TIME TRIPPERS GO WEST

Chapter 1: The Mr Wells Mystery

"Where's Mr Wells? Why isn't he at school?"
It was Thursday, and Matt Johnson and his friend Linda Chapman looked at each other, surprised. They usually had History on Thursdays, but their favourite teacher was still absent. Nobody knew where he was.
"Where can he be?" said Linda.
"Remember, he disappeared after our visit to the castle!" replied Matt. He looked at Linda and smiled. "Perhaps he's lost in time!"
"Sssh, Matt!" warned Linda. "The others can hear us!"
The two friends had a secret and Mr Wells was part of it. Thanks to their teacher's special computer software, Matt and Linda could travel in time! Their first adventure into medieval times was still fresh in their memory.
Matt saw that Linda's open, friendly face was serious now. "Don't worry," he said quietly. "Nobody knows our secret."
"Except Mr Wells..." said Linda.
"Stop talking, Chapman! And Johnson, sit down!" A thin man with an irritated expression came into the classroom. It was Mr Briggs, the Maths teacher.
"No History today, but extra Maths exercises for everybody!" he said. The class groaned. Mr Briggs was the strictest teacher in Greenwood Middle School, and his lessons were worse than medieval torture!
"Come back soon, Mr Wells!" thought Linda.
After school, Matt and Linda walked home together as usual. Greenwood was a quiet London suburb where people weren't too curious and here, for now, the secret of their trip in time was safe. Outside her house Linda said, "Matt, why don't you come in? Mum made a chocolate cake yesterday, and we can surf the Internet."
Linda was a computer fan - and a chocolate cake fan! Her parents were divorced and she lived with her mother, who made the best cakes in Greenwood.
"Okay, can I use your phone to call Gran? She worries if I'm late." Matt had lived with his grandmother since his parents' death in an accident some time ago.
Ten minutes later, the chocolate cake was still on their faces, the two friends were sitting at the computer. Linda switched it on, but then an unusual thing happened. Instead of the usual menu on the screen, a strong white light appeared.
"What's this?" said Linda. "I hope it isn't a virus!"
"Look, it's Mr Wells!" said Matt, pointing at the screen.
There was an animated picture of a familiar figure - a cartoon version of Mr Wells! Suddenly, it spoke with Mr Wells' voice. "Linda, Matt, help me! I'm stuck in the past. It's 1864 and I'm in North America, but I haven't got enough power to come back to the present!
They watched, incredulous, as the cartoon figure took a letter from its jacket pocket.
"All the details are here. Please come soon! You're my only hope!"
There was a flash of light, and only the letter remained on the screen. Linda quickly clicked on it with the mouse and saved it on her hard disk. Astonished, she turned to look at her friend.
"Well, what do we do now, Matt?" she asked him.

Chapter 2: Time for Another Adventure

"There's nobody around. Quick, open it!"
It was 5 o'clock on Friday afternoon. The school was deserted and Matt and Linda were standing in front of Mr Wells' locker in the staff room. They had to try and find his CD-ROM, notebook and PC battery before someone discovered them. Five minutes later, hearts beating fast, the two friends were outside the school gate with all the things in Matt's backpack.
"Let's go straight to my house and try to load this CD-ROM, Matt." Linda suggested.
"Okay. I hope we can understand Mr Wells' notes. His handwriting is terrible!" replied Matt.
At Linda's house, they started work. Mr Wells' letter told them to load the time travel software on the CD-ROM. They put the CD-ROM in the drive and Mr Wells' cartoon appeared again. "To travel in time," said the funny figure, "you must type the coordinates of your destination, the month and the year."
Matt and Linda saw there were two boxes, one for the coordinates and one for the date.
"We know the year," said Matt, "but the month?"
"Look!" Linda moved the mouse and a window appeared on the screen.
"'Time Trip Files'," she read. '"Ducksbury Castle, October 1215' - no that's not it ... 'Kansas, September 1864' - yes, that's it, Matt! I knew that Mr Wells was a cowboy film fan. Now he's stuck in the Wild West!" she laughed.
"And we have to help him, Linda," Matt said seriously. "Now, the coordinates should be in his notebook..."
"We'll need the right clothes for America in 1864," interrupted Linda.
"Good idea. What have we got?" Matt looked at his clothes.
His jeans were okay, but in his football shirt he didn't look like a cowboy.
"Let's see," said Linda, looking in her wardrobe. "My jeans are fine and I've got a denim shirt and leather boots!" Then she took out a large checked shirt. "Try this. It was my Dad's."
Matt hesitated. "Not really my style, but..." He put it on over his Newbridge United top, then put the PC battery in the pocket. "We need this to get back to Greenwood. We mustn't lose it."
How it was time to go. The two friends looked at each other. What new adventures were waiting for them in America in 1864?
"Okay, read the coordinates!" said Linda, sat down at the PC.
Matt looked at the notes. The writing was awful. He found the word Kansas, but Mr Wells' numbers were worse than his letters - was it 86.30 degrees? He read out the coordinates and Linda typed them into the computer. Now, they saw an hourglass, which began to rotate on the screen.
"Sit beside me, Matt - quick!" cried Linda, and pressed ENTER.
There was a flash of white light and they disappeared!
Matt opened his eyes slowly. Linda was on the ground beside him. They were in a field of tall plants with soft white flowers.
They stood up and saw a black girl nearby picking the flowers.
She saw them, too, and looked surprised but not afraid.
"What are you doing in my cotton field?" she asked curiously. "Cotton field! Oh no, Matt! We're in the wrong place!" said Linda.
Suddenly there was a terrific explosion, and all three of them dived to the ground.
"You are in the wrong place, friends," said the black girl. "Don't you know there's a war here?"

Chapter 3: Where Are We Now?

"A war!" Matt and Linda looked at each other incredulously.
"Of course. Where do you come from?" asked the black girl curiously.
"We arrived from England a few min... months ago," replied Linda. "We're lost. We want to go west."
"That's dandy!" The girl shook her head. "I have to pick cotton in the middle of a war, and then I find two lost English kids in my field." She laughed and continued her work.
"Where are we, Linda?" whispered Matt, looking around them.
"Oh, Matt, your geography is terrible! All the cotton plantations are in the southeast of the United States, so we must be there. It's a disaster! We're hundreds of miles from Kansas and Mr Wells."
There was another terrible explosion in the distance.
"But who is fighting who, Matt?" Linda asked.
"Your history is terrible," replied Matt. "If this is 1864, then it must be the Civil War, between the North and South."
"Wasn't that war about the abolition of slavery?" asked Linda, watching the black girl at work.
"Not exactly. I know there were slaves in the southern states and not in the North, but I think the war started because the South wanted its independence and the North didn't want to divide the Union."
"So that poor girl's a slave," said Linda angrily. "But she says that it's her field..." she added, puzzled.
"It is my field now." The girl was beside them again. "My name's Dinah. My master's dead, killed in the war. The other slaves went away but I decided to stay for the harvest. I need to sell some of this cotton. I want some money to reach my sister in Kansas."
"Kansas!" cried Linda. "We have to go to Kansas, too. Why don't you come with us?"
"But I haven't got any money now," the girl smiled sadly.
"Do you think that we have?" laughed Matt. "Anyway, you can't stay here, it's too dangerous. We'll find some free transport somehow."
"Now it's late. You need some food and a bed for the night and I need to think." The girl looked at them, serious for a moment, then she smiled. "Let's go home."
Matt and Linda followed Dinah out of the field. The dark blue evening sky was coloured to the west by the soft orange light of the sunset.
"That's where we have to go," said Linda, pointing. "West, to Kansas."
"But not tonight," said Dinah, pointing to the east, where the sky was red with fire. "Tonight you're going to poor old Atlanta."
As they walked towards the town, they met many wagons of sad, frightened people travelling in the opposite direction.
"Turn around!" somebody shouted to them. "Everybody has to leave - they're burning Atlanta!"
"Don't worry," said Dinah to Matt and Linda, "I live outside the town."
Soon they arrived at a large white stone villa in an enormous park. "I'm living in the big house now the master's dead," said Dinah.
"The other slaves took a lot of furniture and fancy things, so there's not much inside now, but there are beds for us all and it's better than fifteen years in a little wooden cabin - that's where I used to live. Come in, eat and sleep. In the morning, we'll decide what to do. Tomorrow is another day."

Chapter 4: Matt Makes a Bet

Matt woke up. There was a strong smell of smoke. A fire? Gran! He jumped out of bed and then remembered where he was. The smoke was from the remains of the city of Atlanta. Today they had to go west, to try and find Mr Wells.
Downstairs Dinah was in the kitchen, washing the dishes from last night's dinner of salted pork and sweetcorn.
"Can I help?" asked Matt.
Dinah smiled. "Don't you have...," she hesitated, "... slaves in England?"
"No, and after this war, slavery will end in America too," he replied.
"Do you think the North will win?" she asked him.
"I know they'll win," he answered.
Dinah was surprised by his conviction, so Matt quickly changed the subject.
"Who's that?" he asked, pointing to a portrait of a severe, pink-faced man with a background of cotton fields and slaves, on the kitchen wall.
"He was my master," said Dinah. "He wasn't a bad man. He whipped the men if they didn't work well, but never the women."
"I'm ready." Linda came downstairs then. "Let's go west!" she said, smiling.
They walked from the white house to the main road.
From Atlanta came a slow procession of wagons.
Their occupants all looked sadly down the road, as if towards an uncertain future. Smoke from the town blocked out the sunlight and there was a strange, uneasy silence. The wooden houses they passed were burnt, many reduced to ashes, and other buildings were damaged by the North's cannons. There were many Union soldiers in their blue uniforms, but they were all too busy digging trenches, to transform the city into a military base, to notice the three friends.
In the centre, some of Atlanta's commercial buildings were still intact.
"We need information," said Matt, pointing to a saloon. "Let's try it."
"It's better if we girls stay outside," said Dinah to Linda.
Matt went into the saloon, trying to look grown up. There was sawdust on the floor, a bar with numerous bottles of liquor behind it and a pianist playing a sad melody at the old, dusty piano. It was "Dixie", but he was playing the usually happy song of the South to the tempo of a funeral march.
"What can I do for you, boy?" asked the barman.
"How can I get to Kansas?" asked Matt.
The barman laughed. "First you have to leave Atlanta, hoy, then just ask for directions!" he said sarcastically.
"Kansas?" A tall man in a brown stetson with small dark eyes and a thin black moustache approached Matt. "There's a stagecoach leaving this morning, and I've got three tickets," he said.
"That's great!" said Matt eagerly.
"Yeah, for me and my family!" the man laughed sadistically and turned to the barman.
"Give me another glass of good southern whisky," he demanded.
"In a few weeks all I'll have to drink will be horrible northern liquor in Kansas." He quickly drank his whisky.
"Who wants to play billiards with Rhett Beauregarde, the best player in Georgia?" he shouted suddenly. "It's my last game in the old Atlanta saloon."
Nobody answered. The few silent clients were lost in their own sad thoughts. Matt had an idea.
"I do," he said quickly, "I'll play billiards with you, but I want to make a bet. If I win, I want your three tickets for the Kansas stagecoach!"
Beauregarde thought for a moment, then he said, smiling horribly, "And if you lose hoy, I want that slave girl you left outside."

Chapter 5: The Journey to Kansas

Linda was surprised when she looked in the window of the saloon and saw Matt playing billiards, particularly when someone nearby shouted, "The Kansas stage leaves in an hour!" Then she saw his serious expression and noticed that all the other customers were watching the game closely and suddenly she understood what her friend was trying to do.
"Dinah, he's trying to win our trip to Kansas!" she cried.
Matt was good at billiards but at first the pressure of the situation made him nervous and he played badly. Fortunately, his opponent was drinking too much whisky and slowly Matt took advantage. Beauregarde looked nervously at his pocket watch. The stagecoach for Kansas was going to leave in ten minutes. Matt made a great shot and won the game.
"Now, give me my tickets, please," he said calmly.
"I'll give you this!" shouted Beauregarde angrily, taking a pistol from his holster.
"Stop!" The barman was pointing his rifle at Beauregarde. "The boy won fair and square. Give him the tickets."
The journey was like a strange, tormented dream. They travelled eight hundred miles in three weeks. They left Georgia following the spectacular Appalachian Mountains and continued through the Confederate states of Alabama, Mississippi and Arkansas and into the Union state of Missouri with its vast forests. A memorable moment was crossing the majestic Mississippi River, but the devastating effects of the war were everywhere and impossible to forget - towns in ruins, plantations destroyed, thousands of men in grey or blue uniforms, many of them mutilated by terrible weapons of destruction, and piles of coffins waiting for the dead.
The stagecoach wasn't comfortable, but they stopped at night to sleep. During the day nobody talked much; the war made everyone sad and silent. They often heard a familiar name, Lincoln, pronounced with respect and hope. The other five passengers in the stagecoach changed frequently. One day another passenger, a plantation owner from Alabama, spoke to Dinah.
"Girl, you had a job, a home and food. Now what have you got?" Dinah smiled. "My liberty, sir!" she said proudly.
Kansas City was a lively frontier town, the last stopover for many homesteaders going west. The main street, with its hotels and saloons, was full of European immigrants waiting to form a wagon train for the Oregon Trail.
It was time to say goodbye to Dinah.
Her sister, Daisy, notified by telegram, was waiting for her.
"Stay with us for a few days," insisted the two girls after their happy and emotional reunion.
"Thanks, but we have a job to do," said Linda.
"Dinah, I have to confess that I played with your life in that billiard game in Atlanta," added Matt.
Dinah laughed. "But nobody can play with my life now, Matt!" she said happily. "I'm free!"
"I'll miss Dinah," sighed Linda as they walked down the main street.
"Hmm, yes." Matt said distractedly. "Linda, why is everyone looking at us?"
In fact, the two friends were the object of great attention.
Then they saw the reason. All along the street were big posters with their photograph on them and under it one enormous black word - WANTED!

Chapter 6: On the Oregon Trail

Matt and Linda now felt very conspicuous. They walked along the street feeling the eyes of everyone watching them closely. Then a voice called them by their names.
"Matt! Linda! I think it's time for us to talk!" it said.
A big man with a long moustache and a badge in the form of a star was sitting in a rocking chair on the veranda of a small stone building. The sign above his head said "Sheriff's Office."
The two friends were sitting in the sheriff's office as he explained to them why there were photos of them all over the town.
"Your uncle had the idea of the poster to bring you to my office."
"Isn't our... uncle... here?" asked Matt.
"No, but he left a letter for you," replied the sheriff, taking an envelope out of his desk.
Linda opened the envelope. Inside was the photograph from the "Wanted" posters and a note.
"Dear Matt and Linda," she read, "I hope you like the photo. I took it on the bus to Ducksbury, do you remember? I'll be at Fort Laramie. Meet me there. Best wishes, Mr Wells (your uncle!)"
"Oh no!" said Matt. "Where's Fort Laramie?"
"It's on the Oregon Trail," answered the sheriff. "You can go with one of the wagon trains. But watch out for Redskins."
"They're called 'Native Americans' now," said Linda indignantly, "not 'Redskins'."
Matt groaned.
"Native Americans indeed!" replied the sheriff gruffly, an angry light in his eyes. "Redskins, Indians, call them what you want, they'll scalp you before you can say your prayers! My brother was killed by Native Americans in Colorado and his wife and two kids, a brother and sister like you."
He looked at them sadly now as he polished his silver star. Linda was embarrassed and said nothing.
"Good luck, kids. Now go and find a lift to Fort Laramie."
Matt and Linda, now brother and sister looking for their uncle, were offered two places on the wagon of a young Irish couple, Sean and Molly O'Reilly. The next morning they left Kansas.
A dozen covered wagons pulled by horses moved slowly across the vast Nebraska plains. Sean, a small, cheerful man, talked happily to Matt and Linda. His wife Molly, a thin, red-haired girl with big green eyes, was less enthusiastic about the trip.
"This is the Oregon Trail," said Sean, "used by pioneers for twenty-five years to cross the Great Plains and the Rocky Mountains. We're going to Oregon to start a farm. We were farmers in Ireland."
"It's a long journey," remarked Matt.
"And dangerous!" laughed Sean. "There are tornadoes in Nebraska, and then there are the Indians..." Molly didn't laugh. She looked worried.
"Our wagon is our home now," her husband continued, "and our fort if necessary!"
They travelled fifteen miles a day. At night, they stopped to cook their provisions, or rabbits and other game they caught, on campfires. If the weather was bad, they slept in the wagon; if not, they slept under the stars. One fine night, Linda was woken by a strange sound. She opened her eyes and saw a huge rattlesnake only a metre from her head! She screamed and Sean arrived and hit it with a stick.
"Did it bite you?" asked Molly, worried. "If it did, we must put some horse manure on the bite.
"No, I'm fine, thanks," Linda assured her.
"Thank goodness it didn't bite me," she added quietly to Matt. "Horse manure - yeuch!"
One morning the wagons stopped suddenly. Three men on horses were watching them from a distance.
"Indians," said Sean, preparing his rifle.
As the three riders came nearer, Matt and Linda saw from their fierce, proud expressions that they were indeed Indians. They were dressed in simple leather clothes, rode without saddles and carried knives and tomahawks in their belts.
"Don't shoot, Sean," whispered Molly. "They're going away. Look!"
Matt and Linda, nervous but curious, watched the Indians pass in silence. Now they really were in the Wild West!

Chapter 7: At Fort Laramie

Their journey continued under a cloud, the fear of an imminent Indian attack. But there was no sign of the Indians until, one evening at sunset, the ground seemed to start moving.
"What's happening?" shouted Linda.
"Buffalo!" Matt pointed to the horizon where a herd of the biggest creatures on the plains was running across the trail.
"They're escaping!" shouted Sean. "Look! Some have got arrows in them. It's a hunt. The Indians aren't far away."
Next morning Matt saw some hills in the distance.
"They're the Laramie Mountains," said Sean. "Tomorrow we'll see the fort, and your uncle."
The high wooden walls and watchtowers of Fort Laramie appeared like a mirage in the wintry sunlight of the prairie.
A blue and red flag danced in the cold wind.
"Linda, that's the US cavalry flag," Matt whispered. "Maybe John Wayne is here!"
Linda smiled. "I only hope that Mr Wells is here, after all our efforts to find him!" she replied.
A soldier in a blue uniform opened the big wooden gate and the wagons entered the fort. Inside were some white tents, a few wooden huts and stables for the horses. A tall man with brown hair, tired blue eyes and red cheeks came out of a hut to meet them.
"Captain Angus Mackay at your service," he said, saluting them.
He seemed happy to have visitors at his lonely fort. Linda and Matt came forward.
"Sir," said Linda, "we're looking for our uncle, Mr Wells."
"Yes, I recognise you from the photograph he showed me," Mackay said, "but Wells isn't here. He arrived two weeks ago and spent a few days here but he wanted to see the Indians. He left one morning and didn't come back. I'm afraid his fate depends on which tribe he met."
"We must find him!" said Matt desperately.
"Son, maybe your uncle is safe. The situation here is delicate, but many of the tribes want peace. Thirteen years ago, I was a sergeant here when a treaty gave the Indians hunting grounds far away from the Oregon Trail. They were promised government protection. Then five years ago gold was found in Colorado and the Indians' land was invaded by white men. The Cheyenne went on the warpath. Now their chief, Black Kettle, is offering peace but Governor Evans of Colorado refuses. He wants to see the Indians dead. He thinks they are savages."
"And you?" asked Linda.
"I know the Indians well. I think we could live together in peace, but too many of our people think like Evans. Now, you must be tired after your journey. Let's have dinner."
Matt and Linda were too worried about Mr Wells to appreciate Captain Mackay's hospitality. Next morning they left Fort Laramie early with the wagon train, hoping for news of their teacher at the next fort on the trail.
"Your uncle will be fine," Molly assured them. "Those Indians didn't attack us, remember..."
Suddenly an arrow flew through the air and hit their wagon!
"Form a circle!" shouted Sean. "Hurry!"
The wagon drivers desperately turned their horses as a band of Indians galloped furiously towards them, shouting and whooping.
"Molly, Linda, keep down!" ordered Sean. "Kid," he threw a rifle to Matt, "here's your chance to be a hero!"

Chapter 8: Encounter with the Indians

There was no time to think. Matt pointed the rifle and pulled the trigger. But Linda caught his arm and the bullet hit the ground. "Matt, no! They're not attacking!" she shouted.
Riding towards them now was another young Indian.
He was wearing Indian clothes and his eyes burned with dark Indian pride but his hair was fair and his skin was lighter than the others'. He shouted angrily, then turned to the circle of wagons, his right hand raised in a sign of peace.
Then he began to speak to the homesteaders - in English!
"The great Cheyenne chief, Black Kettle, wants peace with the white man. He offers you safe passage across our land. Continue your journey and speak well of Black Kettle."
He turned his horse, a beautiful white mustang, and began to ride away.
"Wait!" Linda ran after him. He stopped in surprise and looked at her.
"Can you help us? We're looking for our uncle. He's tall and thin with curly, white hair. He moves his arms a lot when he talks."
''That's Crazy Cactus!" the young brave laughed.
Linda laughed too. "You know where he is then?"
"Of course, he's with my tribe. He's very funny."
"Can we see him?"
The brave thought for a moment. "Yes, okay. Come with me to my camp. This is good medicine. The elders say if a white girl visits the Cheyenne it is a sign of peace. But you said 'we'..."
"Yes, there's my brother Matt too. My name's Linda."
"I'm Johnny," the brave smiled, "Johnny Coyote. Linda, can you tell your brother to leave that gun? It's not a toy."
Matt put down the rifle but decided he didn't like Johnny very much. The Indian boy pulled Linda up behind him onto his horse.
Matt didn't like that either!
They said goodbye to Sean, Molly and the others. Then, with Linda riding behind Johnny and Matt behind another brave, they galloped away over the plain. Linda held on to Johnny and felt the wind in her hair and a strange, new sense of freedom and happiness. After a while, Johnny slowed his horse.
"Can we talk," he asked, "before we reach the camp?"
Linda looked at him closely. His dark eyes were typically Indian, but his hair and face were different.
"I'm a half-breed," he told her. "My father was Cheyenne but my mother was American. The Indians took her when she was young. She grew up with the Cheyenne and married one of their warriors - my father. She taught me about the white men and their language - English - but she died five years ago, shot by white mercenaries. Then my father drank a lot of white man's whisky and went to look for revenge. He killed four men before they shot him."
"I'm sorry," said Linda sadly. Thinking of Matt's parents too, she waved to her friend, but he looked angry and didn't respond.
"I can't understand the Americans," Johnny continued. "We could live in peace but they take our land and fight us. Black Kettle wants peace, but I don't trust the white men. Look! That's our camp over there."
In the distance Linda saw a circle of tents. Their long journey was finally at an end. But before they returned to Greenwood with Mr Wells, she wanted to spend some time with the Native Americans, and with Johnny Coyote!

Chapter 9: Among the Tsis-tis-tas

They rode slowly towards the camp. They were almost there but Johnny wanted to prolong their conversation.
"I'm sorry about the attack. Our men are away hunting and the young braves wanted to prove their courage. Fortunately, I followed them and stopped them. Were you frightened?"
"Not really," replied Linda, "it was like a film."
"What a film?" asked Johnny.
"Er... something that isn't real," said Linda vaguely. "In films the Indians are usually the bad guys, but I know it's not true."
Johnny didn't understand, but he liked Linda's smile.
"We are not bad," he said with pride. "The Americans call us Cheyenne, but that is the Sioux name for us. Our real name is Tsis-tis-tas, The Magnificent People. Tsis-tis-tas!" he shouted suddenly.
Matt heard these strange words and saw that they produced a sea of movement in the camp.
He counted thirty tepees, and now from the entrances about a hundred women and children came out to greet them.
He watched Johnny jump from his horse and help Linda to descend.
All the camp listened as Johnny explained why these white children were with him.
"This is wonderful!" said Linda, looking around.
"Marvellous," said Matt sarcastically. Some of the Indian children laughed at his funny voice.
"Matt, it's a fantastic opportunity for us to see the Native Americans' life, and Johnny is an excellent guide."
"He can guide us to Mr Wells then, I can't see him anywhere," replied Matt dryly.
"I'm sure we'll see him later. What's your problem, Matt?"
Matt's problem came towards them at that moment.
"Linda, you and your brother can stay in my tent, with my uncle's family," said Johnny and took them to a beautifully decorated tepee. "These are pictures of tribal legends," he explained, pointing to the designs.
"What's this?" Matt indicated a long stick at the entrance. Then he saw the black hair on it.
"Scalps," said Johnny seriously, "from our enemies, the Pawnee.
Take a scalp and you take the person's spirit. Your enemy can't go to the Happy Hunting Ground." He saw Linda shiver. "It's our custom," he said simply.
A warm fire burned inside the tepee and Matt and Linda felt tired after their dramatic day.
"Why don't you sleep now?" suggested Johnny. "I'll wake you for dinner."
Dinner was when the men returned from hunting. It was dark and from a large fire in the middle of the camp came the smell of roast buffalo meat. The men observed their strange visitors closely and Matt and Linda noticed a familiar, fierce, proud expression on many of their faces.
"They are the Dog Soldiers," Johnny explained, "our warriors. They organize the camp, the hunts and battles. Soon I will have one too."
While the meat roasted on the fire, they ate a strange broth of fruit and animal fat.
"It's called 'pemmican'," Johnny told them. "Now, because you are guests, you can taste the buffalo's tongue."
Suddenly there was great hilarity and they heard a familiar voice. "... the Sioux will defeat General Custer, but..."
Dressed in buffalo skin clothes and with feathers in his hair they saw Mr Wells speaking to a group of Indians. Matt and Linda laughed at his strange appearance too, but then they saw the rope around his feet.
Mr Wells saw them and shouted to them, "Matt! Linda! Thank heavens you're here. I'm a prisoner!"

Chapter 10: A Dramatic Night

When Mr Wells spoke to them, the Dog Soldiers moved towards him and pulled him away. Matt and Linda watched nervously as Johnny and the Dog Soldiers argued.
"Johnny didn't tell us Mr Wells was a prisoner," said Linda desperately.
"Don't worry," said Matt. "I've got an idea. Later tonight, you distract Coyote and I'll try to free Mr Wells. I saw where they took him."
"Be careful, Matt," said Linda, worriedly.
"Ssh," he whispered, "here's Coyote."
"Let's go to my tepee," said Johnny. "I convinced the warriors that you are 'good medicine'. You can stay in our camp, but you can't see your uncle."
"But we came here to take him home!" said Linda angrily.
"Come with me. I'll explain," replied Johnny.
Inside the tepee was full of smoke from the fire and from Johnny's uncle's wooden pipe. They sat with the family and Johnny told them, "The elders think your uncle has special powers. He talks about our future and I translate for them. He says the Indians will meet a terrible fate, that the white men will exterminate us, and he gives many details. The elders think his presence protects us and he is 'good medicine' because he entertains the tribe. But if he leaves the camp, it could be disastrous."
"But why can't we see him?" asked Linda.
"Because you will disturb his powers," the elders say. Now you must smoke my uncle's pipe with him. It's a sign of respect."
"No, thanks," said Linda. "I don't want to smoke."
"I'll try it," said Matt, taking the pipe.
"We believe that the smoke takes our desires to the spirits," said Johnny.
Matt smiled. His desires were to free Mr Wells, return to Greenwood with Linda, and say goodbye to Johnny Coyote! He inhaled from the pipe and started to cough violently. Everybody laughed.
It was time for bed. Linda looked at Matt, who nodded his head.
"I want to talk," she said to Johnny. "Let's go outside."
"Okay," said Johnny, curious, and they went out.
When the other Indians in the tepee were asleep, Matt silently went to search for Mr Wells' tent, protected by the dark of the night. Inside the tepee, it was dark but he saw a figure on the ground. "Mr Wells, it's Matt," he whispered.
The figure stood up and, with horror, Matt saw a creature, half man and half buffalo, with horns and a tail!
Meanwhile, in the moonlight, Linda was speaking angrily to Johnny.
"You're right," he said after a moment. "I was wrong. I didn't tell you the truth, but I wanted you to come with me."
He was looking at her with a strange light in his dark eyes, and she forgot why she was angry.
"Linda, I want you to listen to a poem," he said and his voice began to fill the silence of the plains.
"Beautiful flowers, red, blue and yellow,
Lets walk among the flowers,
The wind blows the flowers,
The flowers dance like girls,
The girls are sweeter than the flowers."
"That was beautiful," she said, smiling at him.
"You are my Prairie Flower, Linda," Johnny told her, serious now. "Soon I will be a warrior, then I can have a wife. Will you..."
Suddenly a monstrous scream echoed through the sleeping camp.
"Matt!" cried Linda.

Chapter 11: The Road to Sand Creek

The camp was suddenly full of activity. Braves were running out from their tepees and in the dim light from the campfire, Linda saw a strange figure with horns and a tail. The strange screams were coming from this creature. "Wh-wh-what is that?" she stammered.
"That's the Shaman," Johnny replied. "Your uncle is staying in his tent. Linda shivered but Johnny assured her.
"He's only a man in a hat with buffalo horns, and with a buffalo's tail for a belt. The Great Spirit, Wakan Tanka, gave him special powers. He knows the tribal rites and secret medicines, and he can communicate with the spirits."
"But why do they keep my uncle in his tent?" asked Linda.
"The Shaman stays with your uncle to produce good medicine against his terrible predictions."
He watched the strange screaming figure in the distance for a moment.
"Mmm. He is angry now, I hope your brother didn't do anything stupid! Let's go back to the tent."
Linda's heart was in her mouth.
"What's happening?" Matt was standing at the entrance of the tent, yawning. Johnny, irritated, told them to go back inside and went to hear the Shaman speak to the Dog Soldiers.
"Matt, are you okay?" whispered Linda when they were alone.
"Yes, I saw that Minotaur and ran back to the tent! I pretended to wake up when you arrived with Coyote," he replied. "I don't think anyone saw me."
"Johnny is suspicious," said Linda. "And Matt," she looked away, embarrassed, "he wants to marry me!"
But Matt didn't have time to comment. At that moment, two Indians on horses arrived in the camp shouting instructions, and suddenly everyone in the camp was running here and there, following a precise procedure.
The Dog Soldiers gave orders and in a few minutes, the Indian camp didn't exist! The contents of each tepee were packed on a travois, a wooden frame on two tepee poles pulled by a horse.
Johnny returned. "Someone disturbed the Shaman." He looked at Matt closely. "Now we must go south, to a new camp.
These are Black Kettle's orders."
Matt and Linda had no choice but to leave with the others.
During the journey they were separated from Mr Wells but Matt saw the Shaman carrying a familiar object.
"Look, Linda! He's got Mr Wells' portable computer!" he whispered.
They travelled on through the dawn. Linda thought of home, her mum, school with Matt. The night under the moon and Johnny's poem seemed like a dream. Johnny, unhappy and irritable now, rarely spoke to her. Linda wasn't sad, her life was in Greenwood, but she didn't want to lose his friendship. She decided to talk to him. "Where are we going, Johnny?" she asked.
"This is our life, Linda, we are nomads. An Indian is man, plant, animal, sky, earth, wind and water. We respect the resources that Nature offers us. Once, we followed the buffalo and lived in harmony with Nature. Then, the white men arrived. Now we can only go where they say. Black Kettle, our great chief, is at Sand Creek.
There, the American government offers us protection from other white men and that is where we are going."
Sand Creek was a sea of tepees in the cold wind and hundreds of tired, hungry Indians sat around the American flag in the centre where a tall, proud Indian was speaking with great conviction.
"That's Black Kettle," said Johnny. "He is a great man, but the price of peace is high. I must speak to Black Kettle. Here we risk losing our identity as a people... or worse."
"Worse? What do you mean?" asked Linda, puzzled.
Johnny turned and looked at her intensely. "Your uncle predicted a massacre at Sand Creek."

Chapter 12: The Sundance Solution

"Mr Wells knows his subject," said Matt, "and he says there's going to be a massacre here. We must escape. The Shaman..."
"... won't stop you," interrupted Johnny, returning at that moment. "I told Black Kettle that a hunt is a good idea. Our people are sad and hungry. The hunting ceremony makes us happy, the buffalo fills our stomachs and the Shaman must sing during the ceremony to bring good medicine. That will be your moment." He looked at Linda.
"I'm happy you saw our real life, not the film," he told her, smiling. Then he turned to Matt.
"You don't like me because I like your sister, but now you must go to meet your destiny and I must go to meet mine. Can we be friends?"
"Okay, Coyo... I mean Johnny. Thanks." Matt felt a bit embarrassed.
"Tonight I do the 'Sundance'," continued the young brave proudly, "and then I will be a real warrior and can go hunting. Good luck, Matt and Linda. Goodbye."
That evening the entire Indian camp gathered around the campfire. Some braves appeared and moved into the centre near the campfire. They had iron hooks sticking into their muscles and attached to these were heavy buffalo bones. In a trance, the braves pulled this terrible weight, their flesh pulled down by the cruel hooks.
"Oh!" cried Linda, horrified. "Those poor men! What are they doing?"
"It's 'Sundance'," said Matt. "And look, there's Johnny."
But Johnny was lost in his rite of initiation and didn't see them. "I can't watch," said Linda, "It's awful!"
They went to the tepee and waited. After a while, the hunters left and only the Shaman's song disturbed the silence of the dawn.
"Let's go," said Matt. "Everybody's asleep."
The Shaman was still singing by the campfire and didn't see them go into his tepee.
"Mr Wells, wake up. It's us! It's time to go home," Matt whispered urgently. Linda untied the rope.
"Thanks, kids. I've got the computer here. Where's the battery?" said their teacher, standing up.
"Here!" Matt produced the precious object from his pocket.
"Poor Indians. They didn't treat me badly, really. But I can't help them, I can't change history," said Mr Wells sadly, attaching the battery to the computer.
"Okay, the computer's ready. Stand next to me."
They heard a distant bugle, then the sound of guns. The Shaman ran into the entrance of the tepee, a terrified expression on his old face.
"I'm sorry," cried Mr Wells, and then the three Time Trippers disappeared in a flash of white light!
They were in Linda's bedroom. Her school uniform and the two plates with chocolate cake crumbs were still on the bed. Their three months of adventure had been only a few seconds in the present.
"Mr Wells, what happened at Sand Creek?" asked Matt.
"American mercenaries killed 450 Indians, mainly women and children. The Indian men were out of the camp hunting," replied Mr Wells. "Black Kettle raised a white flag and the American flag as a sign of peace but the American soldiers ignored it. It was a massacre."
"And... Johnny?" asked Linda anxiously.
"I don't know, Linda. We could try a search on the Internet. Perhaps we can find out something about him."
Linda sat at her computer and started the search. She soon had an answer.
"Johnny Coyote, a Native American hero," read Matt. "He became a spokesman for Indian rights and was an important figure in the Supreme Court case of 1924 that made the Indians citizens of the USA. His work was continued by his daughter, Linda! Look he didn't forget you, he gave his daughter your name."
Linda smiled sadly, then continued reading. "It also says, 'His horse, Matt, appeared in many films.' He didn't forget you either!" she teased.
The doorbell rang.
"That will be my mum. She finishes work at six o'clock," said Linda. "Oh good. Now I can try her famous chocolate cake," said Mr Wells.
Matt and Linda laughed.
"Okay, but you can explain why you're here dressed in buffalo skins with feathers in your hair!" said Matt.