The stream’s waters were crystalline, clear to the very bottom, yet where the whirlpool existed, she could see not at all. It devoured everything that it could pull into its maw and gave her no glimpse of the other side.
She managed to smile up at her twin, and give him her hand when he reached out to her. They strolled sedately along the stream’s bed, stepping between nodding ferns and large, white rocks that had been smoothed and rounded by centuries of floods and harsh weather.
“You have been unusually quiet over the past three days, my sister,” Grey Wolf noted, trying to pull her from the odd silence.
“I know, Mingan, and I am sorry that it gives you worry. I just feel… quiet inside.”
He chuckled. “Now, that is a change that I would have never expected out of you, Katari. Are you sure that you are well?”
“My leg is fine, and there will only be a small scar but…” She sighed, searching for the right words. “I just feel as if part of me is missing, now.”
“Those people we left behind,” Grey Wolf asked, “you had become quite close to them, no?”
When she nodded heavily, he added, “In the face of injury and catastrophe, this is a typical and necessary response for survival.”
“It is just that I did not expect the journey to end so abruptly,” she admitted with a sigh. “I was not prepared at all.”
“So even with all this turmoil, your adventure has still been a good one?”
Katari grasped his muscled forearm. “Oh, Mingan, it has been so wonderful!” she told him. “I did not want it to come to an end at all, even though I missed my family quite terribly.”
“There will be many more adventures, Katari.”
She sighed. “That is what Nicholas said. But not, I fear, like this one.”
Grey Wolf patted her fingers gently. “This French trapper meant much to you, I take it? More so than the others?”
Hesitantly, she nodded. “I loved him, Mingan. I will not deny it to you.”
Grey Wolf contemplated her words carefully before speaking. “Although White Lynx would object, I did see quite clearly that this Nicholas was an honorable man. And that he cared for you greatly, as well. Why did you not invite him to travel with us? Surely, you know that your brother would support the feelings you have in your heart, Katari. I want nothing but happiness for you.”
She looked down, pinching off the threat of the ever-brimming tears that had been hovering, for days now, ready to spill over with a single thought or image. She hated that stinging, burning feeling that went on and on. “He did not wish it, Mingan,” she admitted sadly. “He told me I must go. He said that he is a Coureur de bois, and not meant for the likes of me.”
Grey Wolf touched her elbow, halting her. He tipped her chin up, and looked down at her solemnly. “Sometimes, we must fight like the bull-elk to choose a path in life, and make it so as we wish. But there are other times when we must realize that the Creator would bid us wait, and let the journey unfold as he has intended. This may be one moment of your life that you cannot force to bend to will, Katari.”
She couldn’t help it, the tears slipped off her lashes and onto her cheeks. She drew a ragged breath. “You are right, Mingan. I know I must return to the village, and see my people, and grow my own talents. It just hurts.”
With his thumbs, Grey Wolf brushed the tears gently away. “Here now, I have brought something for my noble sister. A present. This is a special gift that would help to ease her pain as we continue the journey home, together.”
Katari stilled, and looking up at her brother’s bright brown eyes, saw that they were now twinkling. How she loved when he doted on her! Mingan always could change her from tear to smile in a heartbeat. She bit down on her lip and forced her tears to dissolve for his benefit. She simply would not show him her grief again.
“What is it?”she whispered, smiling tremulously.
Grey Wolf slipped a buckskin pouch from his shoulder, and made a show of rooting around inside. “Well…I’m not sure where I put it now.”
Katari stomped her moccasin, knowing the old game that they had played since childhood. “You tease me, Mingan!”
“Ah. Here it is.” Her brother pulled it out of the bag, and placed it in her hands. It was the most beautiful necklace she had ever seen, the very one from the jewel-smith in New Amsterdam, with beads and stones that had arrived by ship, from faraway lands across the sea. She gasped, knowing what he had spent to obtain it for her.
“Mingan, you should save this for your bride! It is too lovely!”
“Nothing is too lovely for you, Katari. I bought it for you in New Amsterdam, not knowing if you were alive or dead. But when I held it in my hands, I felt your spirit. It renewed my determination. And here we are, together, today.” He took the jewelry from her hands and positioned it around her neck to tie the clasp.
“There. Now you look like a princess with such finery to grace your natural beauty.”
Katari ran to the stream bank, and dropped down to her knees to peer into the clearest pool she could find. “It is lovely, Mingan. I cannot wait to see it in Mother’s looking glass!”
“I certainly hope this fine weather holds. If so, we should make it back to the Dark Forest within a week of hard riding.” Grey Wolf gazed up at the puffy white clouds that floated harmlessly above the green shroud of the treetops.
Katari felt a tug of guilt when wondering about how her parents were faring. Waiting and wondering. Knowing that their only children had been away for far too long, and that something was surely amiss. Their group had been gone for well over a month’s time. The green blush of early April had merged with the full emerald glory of late May in these mountain ranges.
“Well, we will make haste, then,” Katari agreed. She eyed her necklace once more before rising. “I cannot wait to taste Mother’s wisaminii ahpòn, her cornbread, yet again.”
Grey Wolf grunted in agreement and rubbed his belly. “I have lost weight, with all the strange foods of the Whites, and so much travel. I will sleep and eat for a week when we return.”
Katari focused on the thought of her comfortable little sleeping pallet arranged with the softest of furs. The comforts of food and family would sustain her through…What, exactly? The uncertainty of her future and its possible bleakness yawned before her.
Resolutely, she took her brother’s arm and walked back to the waiting horses.
Chapter 14
With a sigh of contentment, Jenna rocked back on her haunches. She took a moment to gaze skyward through the massive oak and poplar treetops that swayed over her head. The characteristic scream of a golden eagle had just echoed down from somewhere far above. It was rare to hear one so close to the Minsi village and Jenna took it as a good omen, indeed.
Her anticipation for the evening that lay ahead was boundless. A full night of festivities, music, food, dancing, and tale-telling was in store. It would be an evening devoted to the celebration of the return of her treasured children to the Minsi people. The village was bustling with the preparations.
Jenna’s largest clay pot was nestled in the golden cooking coals of her outside fire-pit. She used a stick to poke the embers, ensuring that their temperature stayed at the most efficient rate. The stew she prepared would feed thirty head, and contained some of the best bounty of the new summer season, in addition to the last of the previous year’s harvest.
The delectable scent of wild onions and garlic complemented the roasting venison. She had collected some excellently flavored wild mushrooms, fresh root potatoes, and hearty chestnuts to round out the pottage. The curling rumble of her stomach was testament to just how well it was coming along. Jenna dipped her longest bone ladle into the pot, and stirred the bubbling contents diligently.
She glanced up in time to see her son approaching. Jenna took the moment to watch him with a mother’s appreciation. Grey Wolf had grown to a surprising height, nearly three fingers above that of his father – who was himself a tall brave, t
o begin with. Grey Wolf also possessed the gracefully corded muscles of his father. Her son was fiercely strong, yet lean and very fast.
But his inner nature was the trait that made Grey Wolf so admirable to Jenna. Mingan was the most loving of men, gentle, and yet fiercely protective of his sister and mother. He would take on any obstacle or foe to see them safe. Her heart sang in his presence.
When he arrived, Grey Wolf bent and kissed his mother soundly on the top of her blond and braided head. “Anati, hello my dear mother.”
“Greetings, my handsome son,” she replied with a smile.
“So, where has my sister lost herself today?” he questioned with a grin, yet his eyes betrayed his concern.
“She is out gathering herbs,” Jenna replied. “She complained of an earache due to all of the loud bustle. But she will return to help me with preparations soon, I am sure.”
“Ha. When has that one ever been one to avoid a commotion of such magnitude and cheer? It usually draws her like a moth to the fire-pit.”
Jenna sighed. “Only since her return from your travels.” She could not help but worry about her daughter’s new and uncharacteristic quietness. “Grey Wolf, you were with her. Tell me, what do you know of her pain? Her leg has healed completely.”
“I believe her quiet is the sign of her heart aching.” He shook his head.
“But White Lynx has done nothing but rejoice, and dote on Katari since your arrival home. Why could it be aching?”
Grey Wolf pursed his lips. “I cannot believe that she has not confided in you.” He regretted his words when he saw the rush of hurt in his mother’s green eyes. “It is only because she regrets her feelings, and wishes not to cause anyone concern.”
“Mingan, why does her heart ache so?”
He did not know exactly how to answer. Mentioning her feelings for the White trapper without her approval could cause more harm than good. “Sometimes, mother, the best way to heal a wound is in quiet solitude,” he offered hesitantly. “On occasion, it can be better not to speak of it at all. To do so would simply and give it a life that it does not need to possess, being fruitless.”
Jenna sniffed. “Well, it is also in a mother’s nature to wish for understanding, especially when the hearts of her children are involved.”
Grey Wolf laughed. “I certainly can see how this is so, mother. Should I go find my sister for you?”
Jenna shook her head. “Let her gather herself before the evening’s approach. I wish for her to enjoy the festivities.”
~~~~~
Katari swiped angrily at her cheeks. She looked at the liquid that had gathered on her fingertips as a result, and then shook them smartly so that the droplets scattered across the nodding fern fronds around her.
It was frustrating to continue on in such a manner. A fool’s manner. Simpering over a White man who did not really want her after all. Fantasizing about mouths and chests and fingertips, like a silly little girl. Those vivid memories seemed branded into her subconscious, because that is where her mind continually disappeared, against her will. Under the bedroll, on the pine floor next to the hearth, in the cool, delicious waters of the sacred spring. How could she undo those tortuous memories?
She shook her head. Well, the crying would continue on no more. The forest floor had collected the last of her tears for Nicholas Belline, and there they would remain. She had a future ahead of her that she intended to live to the fullest. She could create her own adventures if she tried hard enough.
But would White Lynx hinder her future plans, or help them? That was the real question. The brave continued on with his courtship of her, full throttle. When he sensed her reluctance, he backed off just enough to ease her temper. He would disappear long enough that she began to miss his company. Katari would hear the other young girls discussing his physique and attractiveness. Then, just when she would think that she had lost him for good, he would return, with his easy smile and charming banter…he played the game quite well.
He did have an endearing personality. White Lynx was nothing, if not vibrant and fun-loving. However, Katari knew that many a man would change his ways once taking a wife under his protection. Sometimes, such men became possessive and dour, and unwilling to participate in adventurous activities with their partners after the fact. Katari could not stand it if this were to become the case. She had to be very careful when selecting a mate for this very reason.
One thing was certain – she wanted to return to New Amsterdam someday. White Lynx and her brother had made their first journey a successful one…as far as coin went. Would they be willing to return again – with her – after the catastrophe of the dray accident and her disappearance? She chewed her lip and wondered. She knew that she could sway Grey Wolf in her favor. But if she was wedded to White Lynx, it would become his decision.
Such questions needed to be answered quickly. As her grandmother, Willow Plume, would say – chose your mate before growing long in the tooth, lest you gather the unwanted to your skirts. Her friend Kanti, who was nearly two years younger than Katari, was to be married within the week. Kanti’s joy and boundless anticipation leading up to the event was an unwelcome reminder of her own precarious situation.
Katari fingered the beautiful choker around her neck, the symbol of her one, great adventure, and prayed for an answer to come to her soon.
~~~~~
Draping the reins loosely over the branch of a nearby birch tree, Nicholas released his mount to graze upon the sweet meadow grasses that stretched out before them. Such a treat was a welcome diversion, and the horse took to shearing off the stalks like it had received no corn in a full month.
It was a lovely view that Nicholas now enjoyed. A steep mountain valley, with a silver stream snaking between the gorges on either side, was an emerald sea of the fresh, green growth of late June. The banks of the stream were treeless – which was quite unusual in the depths of the mountain, except when in the presence of several generations of beaver families.
Over the years, members of each industrious clan had shorn away the trees from the smallest of saplings to the thickest of hemlock trunks, providing an area open to the sun’s kiss and the growth of native field grasses and small, berried shrubs. It was a paradise for many a forest creature to dine upon, including deer, elk and bear.
This particular paradise was located six days ride south and west of Fort Orange, which apparently had been renamed as Albany by the English in command there. Nicholas, Pétant, and Opichi had built temporary homes of wood and brush to take shelter in while trapping this particular area. So far, they had been quite successful in their attempt.
After the first week, Nick had gone about building his own smaller, but serviceable, shelter. He had blamed the need for seclusion on Pétant’s unrelenting flatulence, but it was not really true. Opichi’s fine and healthy cooking had magically fixed that particular issue. But he simply couldn’t bear to be around the newlyweds for a long period of time. He just couldn’t. The pair didn’t argue with him about it very long, so he figured they understood.
Bitterness was a seed in his belly that he had never actually digested. He had not before been so self-aware of his complete and utter loneliness. No family, no wife, no children. Before this moment, it had not ever really mattered to Nicholas. Quite suddenly, he was no longer content with solitude and the forest’s wild beauty, and its ability to fulfill him. Many times in recent days, he was surely near to cursing Katari’s name with vehemence, and out loud. Other times, he would give anything to simply wrap his arms around her and breathe her scent one more time.
He watched now as a large hawk adorned with a red-hued tail floated down from above the tree line and out into the open valley sky. Its massive set of wings tilted first left, then right, adjusting to the varying currents as it eyed the meadow below for any signs of movement. It was wise to seek out this lush and fertile valley for its prey, just as Pétant and Nicholas had been.
Soon, however, it would be time to
pack up and move on. Opichi insisted that some of the beaver clan be left to breed on, and sustain the life cycle in this beautiful valley. Such a philosophy was the opposite of a trapper’s point of view, but Nicholas had come to understand the wisdom entirely. He supposed that the rhythm of nature should never be halted completely by the heavy hand of mankind. It was the way of Opichi’s people. Now it was Nicholas and Pétant’s way, as well. He thought it a just philosophy.
From his travel pouch, he withdrew a length of traditional native jerky known as pemmican, and began to gnaw it to a tender consistency in the corner of his mouth. Since Opichi had cooked this batch, it did not take him very long. She had added fresh currants and chokeberries into the recipe, adding a sweet aftertaste that was highly enjoyable, as well as nutritional. It also served to make the sometimes tough jerky much softer and easier to chew.
Before long, he heard a wicker of greeting from his grazing mount as Pétant approached them on horseback. The trapper swung his massive girth out of the saddle and freed the beast to eat at will, as well. Nick could see the animal’s visible relief when his burden set him free, and he chuckled.
“I have not become tired of this view, as of yet,” Pétant commented. “Don’t know if it’s possible.”
Nicholas nodded. “I doubt that’s entirely possible, but I am sure the beavers have tired of our presence here.”
“It’s been a fur trapper’s paradise,” Pétant agreed. “I hope there are more valleys like this one nearby.”
“Perhaps, if we ride inland and south,” Nick agreed.
Pétant slanted him a sideways glance. “Well, here’s the thing, friend. I think perhaps we should venture back into New Amsterdam once more before moving inland. Once we head westward, we will be gone through late November, for sure.”
“So?” Nicholas questioned, frowning.
“Two things,” Pétant continued. “You and Opichi.”
Nick was confused. “Why are we an issue?”
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