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Winchester: The Legend Builds

by Warren Dean Nelson

214 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #04-1325; ISBN 1-4120-3497-3; US$20.50, C$24.95, EUR17.00, £12.00

Winchester: The Legend Builds features spine-tingling confrontations between Indians and white men, horrid massacre and rape, love and honor in both Indian and white settlements and heart-wrenching guilt.


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About the Book      About the Author      Table of Contents or Excerpts      Catalogue Information

About the Book

Winchester: The Legend Builds is a novel about teen-aged frontier hero, Zane Winchester, his family, friends and enemies. It is a continuation of Winchester: The Legend Begins, which featured Zane, his good friend Trent Blaisdell, their two romantic interests, family members and their Indian counterparts in the Mohawk tribe.

This novel features marriages, births, deaths, a bloody massacre, rapes and carnage as the participants in settlling the Ohio River Valley area conduct numerous conflicts in trying to establish control. There is heartbreak and guilt that threatens to break the union between man and wife, and tragedy that could forever change the lives of both whites and Indians. There is deceit and integrity in both settlements.

Along with the hardships, there is love, kindness and the helpfulness so much associated with the pioneer spirit.



About the Author

Warren Dean Nelson lives in Ashby, Minnesota with his wife Marlene. Warren is retired but still coaches high school baseball, a sport near and dear to his heart for over fifty years. He also enjoys hunting, fishing and golf with family and friends, traveling, and, especially, spending time with grandchildren.



Table of Contents or Excerpts

Chapter 13

Zane awoke at dawn, ate another cold meal and was on the trail within minutes. He arrived at the hiding place he had used the day before and slid into his sanctuary. The village women were already up and making breakfast outside their lodges for the families. Zane noted that, despite their grief, the two women who had lost their men were also preparing food.

After about an hour's time, Zane could see sub-chiefs moving toward the biggest lodge in the middle of the village. He knew this to be Grey Hawk's lodge where the counsel would take place.

As Zane was observing the goings-on in the camp, a tall young warrior threw back the flap of a tepee and stood up. He appeared to be over six feet in height and well-built.

Zane thought he saw something familiar in the way he walked and held himself. Realization soon hit Zane as he saw it was the young warrior who had walked behind the raft carrying the kidnapped Blake children.

Zane thought to himself, "This one will be, or may already be, a great warrior. He carries himself with assurance and dignity."

As Zane's eyes followed White Feather's path, he saw the young brave stop next to a tepee where an Indian boy about twelve was beating a puppy with a willow branch. A few words, along with some firm gestures, from White feather soon caused the young boy to throw down his willow switch and hang his head. White feather then walked over to the lad and, placing one hand under the boy's chin and the other on one shoulder, spoke words which were unheard by Zane but were obviously reassuring to the boy. The boy nodded his head and gave White Feather a tentative smile.

Zane was amazed by the maturity and kindness demonstrated by the young brave. He had never seen or heard of Mohawk warriors who would show a humanitarian side. He looked to the side at other warriors near White Feather. It surprised Zane that none of the warriors showed disdain or ridicule for White Feather's actions. Yet, when he remembered how this young warrior carried himself, he could see why no one would question his behavior,

Zane looked to the north where guards surrounded Graft's tepee. A squaw came out of the tepee to tend to the fire and prepare breakfast. She was unkept and dirty and showed no confidence in herself. Zane felt she had been so demeaned by Graft that she cared about nothing. It appeared that she simply went through the motions in food preparation. After a few minutes, she carried the pot she had been cooking in into the tepee.

Graft partially opened the tepee flap and looked around. He quickly withdrew when Bear Killer gestured emphatically with his rifle to get back in the tepee.


Zane maintained his alertness while watching the everyday occurrences in an Indian village. Some warriors left the camp for a time but returned shortly. Zane was sure that none wanted to miss the verdict to be issued by Grey Hawk.

The warriors worked on bows, arrows, tomahawks and knives. Braves who had flintlock rifles took time to make calls from lead. They heated the lead until melted and then poured it into mold. All would steal looks toward Grey Hawk's lodge from time to time waiting for the chiefs to appear. Finally, after about two hours, the tepee flap was thrown back and the counsel members began to emerge. The sub-chiefs came first. When Grey Hawk showed himself, all warriors who were sitting got to their feet.

Grey Hawk spoke to one of his sub-chiefs who then motioned to Bear Killer. Bear Killer went to the tepee of Graft and opened the flap. Issued a command, Graft soon appeared in the opening. Despite the spot he was in, he maintained the insolent look that seemed to be a natural part of his personality. Bear Killer spoke to him and, using his rifle as a prod, urged him toward the waiting Grey Hawk. Graft, irked by the prodding of Bear Killer, started to turn toward his escort. The look on Bear Killer's face made Graft think wiser. Had Graft made any challenging move, Bear Killer would not have hesitated in killing him on the spot.

Zane would have liked to be nearer the proceedings but knew this was Mohawk justice about to take place and he had to be content to simply observe. He watched as Graft approached the chieftain. Grey Hawk glared at the renegade but this time Graft did not drop his eyes. He was determined that he would not bow down to this man that he hated and would kill without a moment's thought.


Finally, Grey Hawk spoke. "Sylvester Graft, you came to us when you were but a boy. Because you could not return to the white man's settlement, we took you in as one of our own. You have fought well for Mohawks against your kind but you have also brought dishonor on our tribe with some of your vicious ways. Some of our young warriors have been taken in by your bloodthirsty methods of making war. Because of your hate for the whites, many of our braves have gone to the spirit world. The white man, Rand Latham, came to our village under a white flag of truce. He should have been allowed to leave under the same protection. He asked for counsel with me so that he could tell what happened to the farmer and his family. He wished to challenge you to a fight to the death. I told him that I needed to find out from our own people if what he told me was true. Now, I have words of proof from within our village that what Rand Lathan said is true. Graft, your vicious ways are no longer welcome in this Mohawk camp."

Graft looked with disbelief at Grey Hawk. He was being banished from the home he had known for over twenty years. Where was he to go?

"Are you sendin' me away after all I did for you? Many battles would not have been won without me fightin' me heart out. Who taught your young warriors hot to shoot them rifles we stole from the white men we kilt? You never seen me back in the pack in a fight. I was always out front where the greatest danger was."

"Enough!" said Grey Hawk. "You boast about your deeds but you take no responsibility for the wrongs you have committed. Now, go and say no more. You will be given your rifle, some ammunition, tomahawk, knife and enough food to last two days. Bear killer, take two warriors with you to escort this killer of women and children out of my village. Graft, if you are ever seen in or near this village again, you will be put to death."

Graft sputtered, "But... what about my squaw? She goes with me!"

"We will let her choose. If she wishes to stay here, she will be taken care of. Whatever life she would have here would surely be better than one with the likes of you. Bear Killer, bring her to me."

Bear Killer walked to Graft's tepee and softly asked the squaw to come out. Her name was Willow and she had once been a slim, beautiful young woman before she became Graft's woman. Now, when she came forward to meet the chief of her village, she plodded heavily with her head down.

White Feather, sensing her lack of self-esteem, approached her and whispered something to her. She looked at him in surprise, then smiled and held her head up high. She now walked erect with a pride she had not known for years.

Willow had been Graft's squaw for five years but had never conceived a child. Perhaps she had done this on purpose as she did not want to hear a child with the beast whom she lived. There were roots available to prevent conception and all women and young girls in the village were told where they could be found and how to be used.

As Willow approached Grey hawk, Graft glared at her. He was not accustomed to seeing Willow stand proudly. Five years ago, he had asked for the beautiful, young woman after he had been particularly brave in a battle with another Indian tribe in which he killed six or seven warriors himself.

Granted permission he had set out right away to take away the pride she displayed. The first night in his tepee had been a nightmare for Willow. An innocent virgin, she had hoped Graft would be gentle with her but, instead, he ripped her dress off, grabbed her, kissed her with his foul-smelling mouth, threw her down on the bearskin bed and savagely assaulted her. When she cried, he hit her and told her "Shut up, squaw! You do what I tells you. Don't you ever forget it." Then, he hit her again.

Willow stood before Grey Hawk. The chief had noticed the interchange between White Feather and Willow and was pleased. He had long ago witnessed the maturity of the young warrior and hoped that one day White Feather would be selected as chief of the Mohawks.

Grey Hawk said, "Willow, I am happy to see you walk once again with your head in the air. It has been a long time. You now have a decision to make. Your man, Graft, is banned from this village forever because of what he has done that has brought dishonor on all Mohawks. You may choose to go with him or stay in our village. You will be provided for if you stay. If you go, there will be no returning ever. It is no secret that he has mistreated you but he is your man and we do not interfere. What do you say, Willow?"

Willow looked around at the warriors gathered about. She preferred to stay but was afraid none of the warriors would want her and she would be relegated to servant-like duties for another squaw. Before she answered, she looked at long at White Feather. She thought, "If only I could be the wife of such a one. Unfortunately for me, he will soon tie his horses outside the tepee of Morning Dove."

She looked at Bear Killer, who had spoken softly to her at the tepee. He nodded and smiled as she gazed upon him. He was ten to fifteen years older than she but he was a powerful warrior who carried himself proudly and was intensely loyal to Grey Hawk.

"Great Chief Grey Hawk, I do not wish to go with Graft but I have no one to share a lodge with. Perhaps it is beast if I leave." With this statement, she hung her head in the hopeless posture she had held for the past five years.

Graft, assuming he was going to get his wish, sneered at Willow and started towards her.

"Stop! You cowardly murderer of women and children!"

All eyes turned to the speaker. It was Bear Killer who advanced. He walked right up to Sylvester Graft and pushed him away from Willow. Then he turned to Chief Grey Hawk and spoke.

"Chief Grey Hawk, I lost my wife when our last child was born. I have no wife or mother for my three children. If she will have me, I will take Willow to my lodge as my wife. I will treat her with respect."

Willow looked at Bear Killer with tears in her eyes. Grey Hawk spoke, "Willow, what say you? Do you accept Bear Killer as your husband?"



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