Blogtober 2020 Day 29 Entry
“They will be here soon,” Storm said. “Light the fire and jump.”
The two Osage men who had ridden ahead of them had gathered dry brush and branches and set them below the bridge at both banks and all along the top of the wooden planks and railings. The riverbank was steep and rocky along this stretch of the river, impossible to cross with horse or wagon without a bridge.
Storm and Black Oak rode across and took their place atop Pawnee Rock. They could see Gray’s wagon racing toward the river. “Do it now!” Storm shouted.
Phin and Murphy each took sides lighting the fire, one on either bank, then each to a side on top. The dry tinder caught at once, and by the time they jumped off the side of the bridge and into the river, the structure was fully engulfed.
The boys climbed beside the raft their Osage friends had crafted for them before the braves shed their white disguises for Osage clothing and began their ride home. The top of the raft was camouflaged to look like a pile of drifting brush in case the deputies surveyed the river when they arrived.
Phin and Murphy held on to the front of the raft, the rest of their bodies submerged, and pushed off into the current. The river was deep and swift, and it carried them away from the burning bridge, away from the lawmen, away from hanging and shooting and death.
It carried them home.
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