She landed the canoe on a sandy beach under a canopy of tall pines. I hauled myself out slowly, my legs and feet had fallen asleep and they didn’t want to move. She waited patiently for me, steadying the canoe with her paddle as I bumbled my way over the side. I stood there feeling stupid and useless as she hauled the canoe up out of the river and began to unload her meager supplies.
I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her. She was only the second woman I had seen in five years. She was tall for a woman and her long brown legs were well-defined, as were her arms. The buckskin dress fell to just above her knees and she wore a pair of fringed moccasins that rose to the middle of her strong calves. Her long black hair looked baby-soft and it was pulled into a ponytail. She wore a simple headband and a necklace made out of tiny shells. I admired the cut of her slender jaw, her high cheek bones, her perfect nose and white teeth. I was in love and I didn’t even know her name.
The sun was high in the sky and large white clouds hung suspended in the air. The air was warm and dry and a slight breeze rattled the pines. The river rippled over large stones and the sound was soothing to my ears. The water here was clear and looked clean enough to drink.
“Take this,” she said, handing me a roughly six foot-long stick of driftwood. I plunged the end of it into the sand and nodded. I was still shaking off the effects of the canoe trip and I was amazed at her thoughtfulness. A walking stick was just what I needed.
“Thank you,” I said, leaning against the stick and testing its strength. It was solid and barely bent under the pressure.
One look into her eyes told me that something was wrong. She took the stick from me as if I had somehow defiled it and she sank to her knees. She pulled a short knife from a pocket in her dress and began to carve a point into the end of the staff, which I then realized had been intended to be a spear. “You will need this,” she said. “Try to keep the sharp end out of the earth.”
“Sorry, but I’m only half Ojibwe. Doesn’t that count for something?”
“To me or to the Sioux? We are at war. If they find us before I can get you back to our people, our deaths will be very painful. Can you fight?”
I nodded my head, not wanting to tell her the truth and that I hadn’t been in a fight since I was ten years old. “What is your name?” I asked, wanting to use it in our conversation.
“I am called Man Killer.”
I thought about that and decided that I had enough information.
She stood up, examining her handiwork in the summer sunshine. “Here,” she said, thrusting me the spear. “There are also many cougars and bears inside these woods. You would do well to watch out for them.”
“Where are we going, I thought we were going to rescue my grandfather?”
“We are, but we need to attack the Sioux in great numbers. We were on the Great River of Time and I was not going to waste the opportunity.
“Wait a minute,” I said, shaking my head. “We don’t have the time to attack the Sioux. If we attack anyone it will be Soliah and Millhouse.”
Again, her face clouded over with something very much like anger. “You do not understand anything. Did you just fall from a nest? These are my people and they need to be warned. The Sioux are preparing for war. We must do the same.”
This unpleasant information caused me to remain silent as I thought about my situation. I knew nothing of fighting Indian braves or wild animals. I knew nothing about when this was, but the fact that she had said it was before white men had arrived, made me uncomfortable. I looked down at my uniform and the black riding boots and cringed. What would they think of me? I followed her into the gloom of the pines where we walked on a thick bed of needles that crunched under the weight of my boots. She turned and stared at my feet. “You must take them off,” she said, pointing at my boots.
I did as I was told, removing my socks and one at a time, testing my soles on the soft carpet of pine needles. I smiled and stuffed the socks inside my boots. “Better?” I asked.
She smiled at me for the first time and it nearly took my breath away. She quickly looked away and began to walk deeper inside the woods. Majestic pines towered over our heads. The trunks of these monsters were unlike any I had ever seen, and the mighty ones that had fallen were scattered here and there. I walked in relative silence, rolling my feet and lifting my legs, trying to copy the movements of my guide. We walked like that for well over an hour and the terrain never changed. Occasionally, boulders jutted from the earth, covered in green moss and looking as old as time. Suddenly, Man Killer stopped and held up her hand. She sniffed at the air and gave me a frightened look.
I held the spear at the ready and she quietly took it from me. I blushed with embarrassment and hoped she didn’t notice. I stared out into the forest and tried to see what had caught her attention. I could see nothing but shadowy trees and pine needles.
“Cougar,” whispered Man Killer, sniffing again at the air. “A hungry female with babies to feed.”
I sniffed at the air, but all I could smell were the trees and the decomposing layers of pine needles. I strained my ears, but all I could hear was the sound of my own breath.
The monstrous cat was on top of Man Killer and the spear tumbled from her hand as she was violently pitched forward.
“Stop!” I ordered, shouting at the top of my lungs, which was more like a reflex reaction than anything else. I never expected it to actually work.
The cougar had frozen in its tracks. It hovered over Man Killer with its teeth bared, ready to take a large bite out of the back of her exposed neck. “What did you say to me?” the cougar asked in a silky growl.
“I said stop.” I replied. “I am Buffalo Head,” I prayed this would mean something to the savage beast.
“I do not know that name, but your words are spoken in my native tongue,” the cougar replied, stepping away from Man Killer as if she wasn’t there. “I have not heard a man speak them since I was very young. Who are you and why are you here?”
“I come from the future and I am a friend.”
The cougar sat on her haunches and licked her paws. “I am listening. That does not tell me why you are here. I need to feed and I am about to eat your friend. I will ask you one more time, what brings you here?”
“I will make a blanket out of you and your children,” I said, hoping to call the animal’s bluff.
The cougar walked towards me and sniffed at my legs. It then raised its large head and stared into my eyes. I returned the stare, hoping it was enough. The cougar lowered its gaze and suddenly leapt away, never once looking back as it faded into the woods.
“How did you do that?” Man Killer asked, rubbing her forehead with a strong, delicate hand.
“There’s a lot about me that you don’t know,” I said, walking back and retrieving the spear. “I can speak to the animals.”
For the first time she looked impressed. She gave me the hint of a smile and nodded her head. I wasn’t going to tell her that I had no idea how I was able to speak to the animals, that was my secret. The fact was that I really had no idea of my capabilities here. I had been taught a great many things in a short amount of time. I was very thankful of that, but I wasn’t sure how much of it had sunk inside my thick skull.
We continued to walk and we gradually made our way to a large clearing in the woods. I could smell wood smoke and hear the sounds of playing children before I could actually see them. Man Killer gave me a worried look and quickly looked away. The look made the hair stand up on my arms. Still, I followed her to the edge of the clearing and out into the sunlight. The children suddenly became silent and I blinked hard in the blinding light.
The clearing was punctuated with many wooden lodges, woven together using pine boughs and reinforced with moss. There were too many to count; men and women gathered in the middle of the encampment. A great whoop arose from the throng of people and soon many men were charging in our direction. Man Killer screamed and held up her hands, but they didn’t even look at her. They were comi
ng for me.
At thirty feet one of the Natives stopped and tethered an arrow. I watched him pull back on his bow and I moved as quickly as I could. The arrow missed me by a scant few inches. I began to move faster, explosively, and I ran towards the man and snatched the bow from his hands. He was tall and muscular, but his eyes grew large and he let out a terrified scream. I tossed the bow aside and I was gone in the blink of an eye. The man screamed again.
I continued among the braves, moving with lightning speed and disarming them one at a time. The result was usually the same, but some of the men merely opened their mouths in silent shrieks of horror. I became more confident and felt myself growing stronger with each of my explosive movements, covering hundreds of feet in less than a second’s time.
The last armed man was waiting for me and he wore a stern expression. I charged him, reaching out for the large tomahawk that he held in his hand. What happened next took place so fast that I had no idea where it had come from. The brave took me by the neck and put me flat on my back. He raised the tomahawk and let out an angry cry.
I was a dead man. I suddenly knew that like I knew my own name. I closed my eyes, not wanting to watch the end of my life.
There was an ear-splitting roar and I felt the man’s body being lifted from my own. I opened my eyes to see the cougar and the man tumbling away. The brave rolled to his feet into a fighting stance, but the cougar ran back to me where she stood at my side. I put my hands on my hips and stood there, suddenly feeling very important. I had powerful friends.
With the cougar walking at my heels, we followed Man Killer into the village. The men gathered their weapons and followed at a respectful distance. We walked up to the largest of the lodges and Man Killer turned to me. “You will wait here,” she said.
She disappeared into the lodge and the cougar and I turned to face the approaching men. The cougar let out a fierce roar as the men closed to within twenty feet. They stopped there and looked at the two of us with great interest. We returned their stare.
A long time passed and the men became agitated and they whispered among themselves. My mouth was dry and I could feel butterflies in my stomach. What was Man Killer doing and why was it taking her so long? The sun was hot and I was sweating under the heavy uniform. The cougar began to growl softly.
Just when I thought we would be attacked, Man Killer emerged from the lodge. She was followed by a very old man dressed in buckskin leggings and an ornately decorated vest. On his head was a great head-dress with the feathers of many eagles. The middle of his weathered face was occupied by a large, hawkish nose and deep-set eyes.
Man Killer pointed to me and held up her head. “He is called Buffalo Head and I claim him as my own. He is to become my husband.”
I was shocked at the response this received. The Native men began to chuckle and then to laugh, pointing at me as if she were the village mutt. I remember feeling a great anger rise in my chest. I can also remember wondering why she had chosen me, when she could obviously have had any man she chose.
“No!” cried an old woman who leaned forward when she spoke. “She is to marry my son! I forbid her to marry this newcomer. What do we know of him and look at his clothes. He is a soldier in the white army. Do we want to make camp with one of these people?”
“She does not want to marry Stump Nose and she has found another husband. He should have married her sooner,” replied the old man.
“He is out hunting and we can have the ceremony when he gets back,” cried the woman.
“We will have the ceremony, now,” answered the old man, holding up his hand. “The white man will leave us alone if we have one of their members to speak to them. Go away old woman; I want you to leave us alone.”
The old woman shrieked and charged off into the woods, her head and shoulders bent at that strange angle of hers. The camp suddenly returned its attention to me. I stood there, trying my best to look cool. I didn’t feel cool and my heart was thundering inside my chest. There were so many of them and we had become completely surrounded.
“He will not last the night,” shouted one of the men. “Take a good look at him while he lives!”
“The Man Killer must be hungry,” said another of the men, drawing more laughter out of the group. “I hope she does not choke on his uniform.”
The cougar let out a vicious growl and bared her teeth at the men. The laughter stopped.
The old man began to chant in a language that I could not understand and no one spoke. He joined our hands and prodded me to face Man Killer, without interrupting himself. The experience was surreal and my stomach flopped inside of me as I realized that this was our wedding ceremony. I felt like the luckiest man on earth when I looked at her, but I couldn’t help wondering about what the Native had said. I was marrying Man Killer, but whom else would I have married in the middle of all of this insanity?
The ceremony lasted perhaps fifteen minutes, but when it was over there was no kiss and the men walked away without giving me another look. The old man disappeared back into his lodge and even the cougar trotted away. I looked to Man Killer for a sign because I had no idea what to do next.
She led me to a lodge and she beckoned me inside. The inside was spacious and clean, two large buffalo hides lay on opposite ends of the dirt floor. “You sleep there,” she said. “And you stay on your side of the room if you want to see another sunrise.”
I hadn’t counted on this, but I quickly crawled onto the soft buffalo hide and lay down on my back, staring up at the thatched roof.
Man Killer did the same. “There are some things you should know,” she said, staring up at the roof with me. “We were only married to keep them from killing you. The cougar needs to look after her young and she was going to have to leave you soon. I am called Man Killer with good reason. I have been married three times and my husbands have never lasted the night. They die in their sleep after trying to be with me. Do not be the next one.”
As tempting as it was to crawl across the floor to join her, I was able to stay on my side of the lodge and I quickly fell fast asleep. I don’t remember the sun setting, night falling, or the forest coming to life with the approach of the new day. I woke on my side of the lodge and found that I was alone, hungry, and desperately needing something to drink. I stood up and brushed the buffalo hair from my rumpled uniform.
Chapter Ten
Brindle's Odyssey Page 16