"David Robbins - Blade 05 - Pirate Strike" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robbins David L)

"Hold it," Jeannie said, grabbing his left forearm. "You're not going
anywhere."

"Your husband will need me," Red Hawk stated.

"Her husband has a name," George observed. "And I don't want you
tagging along. I intend to travel fast."

"I am going."

"Grandfather, you're being stubborn and foolish," Jeannie said. "The
woods are no place to be after dark."

"I will be safe. The Everywhere Spirit will protect me," Red Hawk
assured her, and tried to move forward.

"Ned" Jeannie stated, restraining him.

"Let him go," George unexpectedly declared.

Jeannie glanced at her husband, perplexed. "What?"

"The trails are not easy to follow at night. Once he sees that he can't
keep up with me, he'll come right back here."

"Are you sure?" Jeannie queried, reluctant to release her grandfather's
arm,

"Trust me," George said, then turned and headed off at a brisk clip,
crossing the cleared section in front of the lodge and taking the narrow
path bearing to the south. Even without the aid of the moon, even in the
inky gloom of the forest at ten o'clock at night, he unerringly knew the
correct course to take. After covering 30 yards he came to the crest of the
low ridge on which their home was situated and looked over his left
shoulder, grinning at the sight of Red Hawk's thin figure dimly visible ten
yards to his rear. Confident he could easily outdistance the oldster, he
hiked over the crest and bore toward the Fraser River.

It was time to teach the shaman a lesson. For years George had
tolerated Red Hawk's constant criticism of the white race and abided the
medicine man's bragging about alleged powers and communion with the
spirits. Red Hawk was full of so much hot air, and George took delight in
finally having an opportunity to put the old man in his place. George
respected the old ways as much as anyone. Although he could only claim
direct Kutenai descent on his mother's side, he was genuinely proud of the
heritage bequeathed by his ancestors. But the ancient methods did not
apply to a world still recovering from a holocaust of global proportions.

His mind drifted as he wound between the trees and skirted boulders,