clear. Tochapa would endow his warriors with the strength of
wolves and allow them to defeat their enemy.
When the healer dropped the items into the bowl, the smoke
from the fire began to swirl around itself instead of rising. The yellow flames
threw sparks so plentiful and bright that the chief shielded his eyes and took
several steps back. With one final explosion of sparks, the flames shrank down
into orange embers and the smoke stilled before it resumed its path to the roof
of the cave.
Nayavu’s hands shook as he grabbed the bowl and handed it to
his chief. Ahiga touched his fingers to the clay expecting to feel the heat of
fire, but instead felt only a slight warmth. The potion inside swirled as the
smoke had done only a moment before.
“Feed this to all of our warriors. Quickly.” Ahiga watched
as the healer tilted the bowl to every man’s lips. Once the injured were
treated, Nayavu brought the potion to all of the others, saving the last drops
for Ahiga.
That night was a restless one. Sleep would not come, even to
those exhausted by battle. Some complained of pain, others of strange thoughts
racing so quickly as to make them lose their balance. Still others remained
perfectly quiet, staring into the brightness of the almost-full moon from the
mouth of the cave.
When the sun finally began its ascent, Ahiga gathered all of
his uninjured warriors. “Tochapa has blessed us. Let this be the day we prevail
against the Yavapai.”
While war cries echoed throughout the canyon, the Havasupai
ran toward their enemy with spears raised. When they arrived at the small group
of caves they knew the Yavapai tribe used as their gathering grounds, they
found the spot empty. Smoke trailed lazily from the remains of several fires, but
the warriors were gone. Ahiga’s heart clenched in his chest as he realized his
mistake. He’d taken every warrior that was well enough away from their home,
leaving the injured and the women and children alone. “We must get back and
protect our people.”
He’d taken but two strides when he heard it—the whooshing
sound only airborne spears can make. “Raise your shields!” Before the words
were out of his mouth, the Havasupai warriors were gathering in a tight circle,
backs to the center, crouched behind worn wooden shields.
The Yavapai had been lying in wait, hidden behind rocks and
in the darkest shadows created by the large caves. The sharpened stone-tipped
spears came at them from all directions, most clattering uselessly off their
shields. Then came the Yavapai warriors. If it had not been his warriors caught
in this trap, Ahiga would have been impressed with their strategy. They had
them surrounded.
The familiarity of the situation overwhelmed Ahiga as he
thought back to Nayavu’s vision. Was this that battle? Without wasting another
moment, he led his warriors in a mighty war cry and they rushed their
attackers.
The sensation of the change was almost lost on Ahiga as he
felt the first Yavapai club strike his shoulder. The pain from the blow
radiated outward until it encompassed his entire chest. He reached for the
knife sheathed at his waist only to have it fall from the fur-covered paw that
was once his hand.
Swiveling his head from side to side, the chief saw the
Yavapai tribe’s expressions change from triumph to bewilderment and finally to
horror as his men changed. His mighty warriors were now ferocious wolves.
Acting on pure instinct, Ahiga pounced, powerful jaws
tearing at the Yavapai’s throat. The unfamiliar taste of flesh covered his
tongue, and before the first bloodied body hit the ground, the chief added two
more. His tribe—now his pack—ravaged the unsuspecting Yavapai until rivers of
their blood flowed down the canyon walls.
The battle was over before the sun reached halfway to its
apex. Surveying his surroundings, Ahiga’s heart swelled with pride. Resting on
his haunches, he raised his eyes toward the heavens and howled his thanks