Free The Outcast by David Thompson Page B

learn.”
    â€œThey are animals and we are men,” Star Dancer declared.
    â€œIt will be a great thing we do,” Splashes Blood said. “Our people will praise us. Songs will be sung around the campfires about what we have done.”
    Skin Shredder tingled with excitement. It was a very fine idea, indeed. He couldn’t wait to start the slaying. Not only would he have his revenge, he stood to stand high in the councils of the Tunkua. “We should thank the Bear People before we kill them.” And he did something he rarely did—he smiled.

Chapter Eight
    Zach King tried to tell himself he had no reason to worry. There had been only the one shot. If Lou and Blue Water Woman were beset by hostiles, surely there would have been more. They were tough, strong women; they wouldn’t go down without a fight.
    Then Zach remembered that his wife was forever traipsing outside without her weapons and leaving the front door open. He glanced at McNair, riding hard beside him, and said loud enough to be heard over the pounding of hooves, “What do you think?”
    Shakespeare thought they were making a mountain out of a prairie dog mound. There could be a perfectly ordinary explanation for the shot. Either woman might have shot a deer or some other animal for the cook pot. Or maybe a fox had got in with the chickens. Or a rattlesnake decided to sun itself close to one of their cabins. He seemed to recollect that Louisa, in particular, was skittish about snakes.
    Since Zach was looking at him and waiting for a reply, Shakespeare shrugged and said, “I bet they’re fine, but it doesn’t hurt to check.” He said that last for Zach’s benefit. The boy—Shakespeare mentally caught himself—the young man had a tendency to overreact. When there really was danger, well, heaven help anyone or anything that threatened Zach King or those he cared for.
    The south shore came into sight. There stood McNair’s cabin, awash in sunlight, as picturesque as a painting.
    Shakespeare counted the horses in his corral. “My wife went somewhere on her dun.” That the packhorses were still there told him that no one had stolen it. No self-respecting horse thief would steal just one animal.
    Zach rose in the stirrups to try and see the north shore. He spied his chimney. It was too far to be certain, but he thought wisps of smoke curled to the sky. That was a good sign. Lou was supposed to be doing some baking. “Do we stop at your place or go on to mine?”
    â€œOn to yours.”
    When they reached the west end of the lake, Zach slowed to a walk to spare their sweaty mounts. “If they ask why we came back, I’ll tell them I forgot my whetstone.”
    â€œ ‘You do advance your cunning more and more,’ ” Shakespeare quoted.
    â€œI just don’t want Lou to think that I think she can’t take care of herself. She’d never let me hear the end of it.”
    Shakespeare chuckled. “ ‘Oh, what men dare do. What men may do. What men daily do, not knowing what they do.’ ”
    â€œCan you say that in English or Shoshone so I can understand it?”
    â€œLout,” Shakespeare said. “It’s not my fault you’re so light of brain.” He quoted again. “ ‘A lip of much contempt speeds from me.’ ”
    Zach laughed, but his heart wasn’t in their banter. He’d noticed that the front door to their cabin was wide open. “Why don’t women ever listen?”
    â€œThat was a rhetorical question, I trust.”
    â€œA what?”
    â€œWomen are the queens of curds and creams, and queens need not stoop to listening to their subjects.”
    â€œI ask a serious question and that’s the answer I get?”
    â€œHaven’t you learned by now that women have minds of their own? They listen when it suits them and don’t when it doesn’t. But to be fair, men don’t listen at