CHAPTER 61

Without their esteemed leader, Raging Bull, the herd clusters together and mills around in a disorganized circle. Dust clouds form all around their meandering traffic. It serves as cloud cover and allows the wolves to mix in and strike where they please.

"Circle back for Raging Bull," Thunderfoot shouts at the confused herd.

"Show us the way and we will follow!" a young bull answers.

Thunderfoot strains to see through the dust, but the choking air is incredibly thick, and he cannot see which way to go.

Kida disappears into the dust cloud created by the terrified buffalo.

As the young tire and separate from their mothers, the Indians are there to catch them. Kida emerges from the cloud with a wailing yearling clenched in her jaws. Makes Trouble runs up and opens his arms.

She drops the calf. "Who is faster than the wind now, ugly brother?" She grimaces and turns away. Within moments, she has another calf on its side.

Makes Trouble wants to sign an insult back, but instead, he scoops the calf up and turns to run off with it.

This is much easier than hunting with bows and arrows, Makes Trouble thinks as Paw sprints past him. He snarls at the black wolf, who returns the insult with a clacking snap.

"I will do as you tell me!" Walpi shouts to Kida, approaching the herd.

His words please her. She smiles and bares her white fangs. Her cinnamon fur glows brilliantly in the sun's setting light and makes her seem more like a fox than a wolf.

"Don't wait to be told, Hopi. Act for yourself!"

Walpi joins in the fight by biting a young buffalo on the same side as Kida.

"No, Hopi…Go for the throat. I will steady him."

Walpi hesitates. "What if I get hit by its horns?"

"He doesn't have horns. He is a child. If you want to stop being treated as Hopi, you must stop acting as Hopi! Become a wolf! Kill!"

Walpi bites down on the panicked calf's neck. He feels its pulse pound against his teeth and immediately releases.

"I'm sorry, Buffalo. I once was Hopi and grew corn. But I cannot grow corn anymore, so I must do as Kida says."

He bites down in the same place and resumes his grip.

"I prefer you as Hopi," the buffalo calf gurgles.

Walpi lacks confidence and has to reset his bite several times, causing the game a great deal of pain.

"You don't have to torture it unnecessarily, Walpi, like your beautiful fur tortures my eyes."

For the first time Walpi thinks he understands why Kida stares at him. She wants to kill me and wear my fur as they wear scalps on their belts, He shakes his head back and forth as he saw Kiowa do, until the buffalo eventually submits and dies. When he doesn't feel a pulse, he slowly releases. Sadness swells inside. He puts on a brave face and looks at Kida with his blood-soaked snout and paws.

"There, now I have given you reason to stare all you like!" he pants, probing to see if Kida stares at him for a different reason than the one that haunts him.

Kida smiles at him. She turns and scans the herd until she spots the white wolf going after a fatigued yearling. "Let us see what Anoki, the Hopi princess, can do."

Anoki snaps at the buffalo's hindquarters, but with no real success.

"Slow down, Buffalo!" she shouts.

"No. You're going to eat me!"

"Yes, but this is the natural way."

The calf picks up its pace and shouts, "Mama!"

Kiowa flanks the calf and charges it so quickly that both he and the buffalo collide in a bone-rattling explosion. A cloud of dust explodes around the two. Its neck bends at on oblique angle, and it falls dead.

Anoki stares at him with sparkling topaz eyes. "You are more powerful than I imagined!"

Kiowa smiles and pushes his broad chest out. "Follow me!"

Anoki capers behind him with a devilish grin.

Off in the distance, Kida sighs. She puts her head down and begins to whimper.

Paw slowly walks up beside her and lies down. He pants for a moment and then licks his blood-soaked lips.

"Kida, you must let go of your pain. Kiowa never loved you. His heart is with the white wolf. Surely your eyes can see this."

Tears well up in her eyes. "My heart aches. Will I ever love another as much as I loved him?"

Paw puts his arm around her. "In time I think you will."

W.H. stands on concrete steps in front of the Université de Saint-Boniface. It's Winnipeg's first Western university and was founded in 1818. The three-story rectangular building, including attic, has a gabled roof and a Colonial bell tower styled after a Roman gazebo. The decorative roof on the bell tower is of such a design and size that in comparison to the rest of the building, it makes the building seem like it's been crowned.

W.H. takes in every architectural detail first, then steps back and sees the picture in its entirety. Oak clapboard, painted white, gives the lines a symmetry that makes the building seam neat and orderly. Male students entering the front doors in their suits and ties prove that the standard of tidiness is upheld.

W.H. gazes at his reflection in the tall, lead-glass Colonial windows. He chuckles at his distorted image as he sways back and forth.

They sure did a good job matching the front turret to the bell tower, he thinks as he scans the high and low arches.

"I suppose I'm late for class," he mumbles as the bell rings. He joins the crowd of young men shuffling through the halls and into their classes. Biting his bottom lip, he shoves his hands in his brown suit pockets and tucks his belt-strapped books under his arm.

He reaches for the classroom door and opens it. With one foot out, he's about to join the last of the fluttering students, but he hesitates. He retracts his step and puts his hand on the yellow maple wainscoting, feeling the smooth surface. He isn't sure why, but his hand refuses to let go of the classroom door handle and his lead feet seem to be in communication, as they will not allow him to take one step in. The bell seems to chime, W.H., you're late. Late to your first day of winter semester.

He closes his eyes and imagines being on the other side of the door. He can hear it slam shut. In those stuffy classrooms, he's forced to learn algebra, geometry, finance, and Latin. The slamming door triggers an avalanche of dissatisfaction he's felt in class his entire freshman year. If I join them, I'm never going to be anything but a man in a suit, he cautions himself, pressing his hand to his bottom lip.

With a deep grumble, he adjusts his round, gold-framed glasses and looks up at the beautiful, artistic building.

"That's my problem. I'm too young to burden myself with all this art."

He drops his books in front of the door. With a swift grip, he swings around and marches down the wood-trimmed hallway, turning to the right toward the dean's office.

With rebellious determination in his eyes, he twists a brass door, swings it open, and boldly storms into the office. He passes a gold-etched placard with the name DR. BENNETT, PHD, HEADMASTER.

"How may I help you?" a middle-aged secretary with bright red hair and green eyes asks the fiery youth.

"I need to speak with the dean."

"Do you have an appointment?"

W.H. takes a step back, gets a wild look in his eyes, and says, "The art of the wild tells me I go where I want when I want! Is he in there or ain't he?"

Startled by his boisterous, unsettling behavior, the secretary takes his glasses off, showcasing a firmness he had not expected.

"Yes, but do you have an appointment?"

A red-brown mahogany door opens behind him.

"Come in." An older, gray-haired gentleman in a fine black 1800s-standard suit accepts the unsolicited appointment.

W.H. storms past the fussy secretary.

"He needs an appointment."

"This one is different, Herbert," the headmaster says, winking at her.

As W.H. enters the office, the old man rises and motions for him to sit down.

But W.H. waves him off and blurts out, "Sir, I'm here to resign my seat and scholarship."

Authors plea: Reviews? If you like the story, lets hear it in the reviews. If you dont like it, lets hear it.