Chapter 17

A tall man, dressed in green clothing, his face streaked with black markings, crouched in the bed of the wagon, bracing himself by gripping the sides of the wagon as it lurched on the road. Sergeant scrambled around, snarling and barking and Samantha clutched at him, nearly falling off in her efforts. John grabbed her with one hand and threw a look over his shoulder.

“Take the reins, Sam!”

He shoved them at her and in seconds was over the seat into the wagon bed, crouching behind her seat. Sergeant leapt off the seat and joined him, snarling and baring his fangs. She’d never heard such sounds from him before.

Samantha wildly tried to control the horses and still keep her eye on the men behind her. The horses were running hard and the wagon rocked and bounced along the road. Twice she was nearly thrown off the seat. She looked behind her and saw the man watching John and Sergeant. The indecision on his face would have been funny had he not been so frightening. Then, he reached down, picked up a long, thick, black club and began to move forward, stepping over the bags in his way. He must have brought the club with him because it had not been there when they loaded the wagon.

John had no weapon but Sergeant and the club leveled the field. With the club, the man might be able to knock either the dog, John or both out of the wagon. Sergeant crouched low and she knew in moments he’d spring at the man.

Samantha looked at the running team and made a snap decision. She clutched the reins tightly and shouted at John, “GRAB THE SEAT!” Then, she leaned back and dragged hard on the reins, letting her body act as a counterweight. Her father would have beat her half to death for such cruelty but the stop had to be quick and hard. It was.

The sound of the horses screaming as the wagon slewed around in the road mingled with Samantha’s own scream as she was catapulted from the wagon seat. She saw the forest close in on her and then everything went dark.

From somewhere above her, in the darkness John’s voice whispered, “Sam? Sam, wake up.”

Someone was washing her face. She opened her eyes and groaned as a huge wet tongue dragged across her mouth and then her neck. Sergeant was administering his own brand of first aid.

“Arrrrgh!” she said. “Stop you, hellhound! Oh, my head." She clutched her head and tried to rise. It wasn’t happening. "How long was I out?” she said and fell back, into the ferns surrounding her.

“Wait!” John said. “Let me check you for broken bones. You’ve been out for half an hour. I was getting worried.” His hands gently moved along her arms and shoulders but she brushed him away.

“John, I’m fine. The only thing broken is my head. . . I think. Gee, Sergeant, we have to get you some peppermint.” At those words, Sergeant proceeded to wash her face again and managed to get in two licks before she shoved him back.

John chuckled.

As she sat up and brushed leaves from her hair, aches presented themselves. Apparently satisfied that she was still in one piece, John offered her his hand and pulled her to her feet.

“Are you and Sergeant o.k.?” she asked.

“Yes. Bruised but not broken,” He looked toward the wagon. It lay on it’s side, it’s contents spilled across the road. “Thankfully, so are the supplies and the wagon. You’ll have to help me right the thing.”

She moved to where the horses were grazing in the grass along the edge of the road. “Here, Belle, come on, girl. Let me have a look at you.” She spoke softly and stroked Belle’s nose until she was sure that the animal was calm enough to allow her to check for injuries. John checked Buddy. Both animals were shaken but uninjured, a feat that John declared a miracle in itself.

Nearby lay a green lump, unmoving.

Samantha jerked her head toward it. “Him?”

He looked back. “Not dead. Hurt pretty bad. I think he has a broken arm. I splinted it but I don’t think he’ll wake up for a while and when he does, he won’t be going anywhere very fast. We’ll have to take him with us to the settlement.”

Her mouth fell open and then sputtered, “Take him with us! What for? He attacked us.” She looked around. “Where are his friends?”

John moved back to the road and stood, studying the wagon. “Not sure. They seemed to just disappear with that whistle. He seems to be the only one who stayed behind.”

“Why would they do that?”

“Maybe they didn’t see us as a challenge.” He looked at her and grinned, “Of course, if they had ask me, I’d have told them you were far more dangerous than either Sergeant or I.”

She made a face at him and stuck out her tongue. He got the horses and positioned them so he could use them to pull the wagon upright. “You know, don’t you, that what you did is one of the stupidest things anyone could possibly do? And you could have injured or killed the horses.” he said.

"Never mind us." she said and began to gather up the items that had been thrown clear. Nothing was seriously damaged but then it was mostly sacks of grain, seeds, and a box of tools. “I didn’t see much alternative. What would you have done?”

He shrugged and manipulated Belle and Buddy until they were in position. “I’m not sure. Maybe something equally stupid. Samantha, don’t get behind that thing. If it slips, you’ll be crushed beneath it. Just tell me if you see a problem.”

“Sure.” She moved to stand off the road and watch. Sergeant sat beside her but facing the woods, rather than the road.

“Hey there, Belle! Hey Buddy! Giddup there!” John shouted at the horses and began to snap the reins, urging them to pull. The wagon resisted at first but then slowly, it tipped on two wheels and then flipped upright, on all four.

John pulled up and patted the team, thanking them for their efforts. Sam took two carrots from the bag of vegetables they had packed and fed one to each of the horses, patting and stroking them. Their father has stressed that good work should always be rewarded, even if it were animals doing it.

John loaded the supplies back into the wagon and then, he put their passenger in on top of the grain sacks, tied up snuggly. Finally, everything was loaded and John backed the team in and hitched them up. He handed Sam the reins and said, “You’ll have to drive from here on. I have to watch him and our backs.”

“Can’t Sergeant do that?”

“No, I want him to watch everything else. You read him better than anyone. He’ll let you know if he senses anything.” He sat down on a grain sack, their prisoner’s long, thick club bouncing in his hand. “Let’s go, Samantha. Dark is catching up with us. I’d like to be somewhere populated by then.”

She couldn’t agree more. She snapped the reins and shouted to the team. The started off again, with only the crushing sound of the wheels against the surface of the road.