The Blanket of Blessings

by Betty L. Milne

  AS THEY RODE through the trees of the forest, Angie’s clothes began to dry, but her feet were still wet in her boots. The sun shone through the leaves and she heard birds singing, for the first time since she left Missouri, maybe because the rattle of wagon wheels and the activities around the campfires didn’t drown them out anymore.

  The two men talked in a strange language that confused her, but she didn’t feel threatened, more interested than anything else. She saw two dead rabbits hanging across the back of one of the horses, and a small deer strapped across one of the mules. She supposed the rider she was with had been carrying the deer before they came across her. After many weeks of beans, hard tack and coffee, the fresh meat looked inviting to her. Over a spit, it would taste really good.

  Approaching a clearing in the trees, a green plush valley appeared before them with a small river winding through the middle of it. A large number of teepees spotted one side of the river in among a large grove of trees. Some had campfires ablaze in front of their homes and the smoke billowed through the trees drifting into the air above. Horses grazed in the nearby pastures with dogs and laughing children running through fields of wildflowers and stalks of corn.

  As the horses made their way down a small incline toward the river, the dogs began to bark uncontrollably, alerting the village of someone coming near. Angie was fascinated by what she saw; it was truly a whole new world to her. It seemed so peaceful and serene, and a feeling of awe came across her.

  As they entered the village, activities began to cease as people turned to stare at her. She suddenly felt conspicuous and wanted to hide behind the man in front of her. They stopped at one teepee and both men climbed down from their horses, with her rider holding his hand up to let her know to stay where she was. Then, they disappeared inside the teepee. She looked all around her and noticed she had become the center of attention and she felt herself sink on top of the horse. Soon another man came out of the teepee with the other two, a much older man with silver streaks in his hair and hard features. He looked up at her, and the three continued their conversation. Angie wished she knew what they were saying. Finally, the tall man with the kind face climbed back on the horse in front of her. He took the lead of one of the mules they had brought back with them, turned and went over to a teepee close to the river where an old woman was sitting on the ground grinding corn.

  The man jumped down and after a few minutes of exchanging words, the man began to walk away. He then tied the lead for the mule to a nearby tree and then took Angie down from the horse. After a few words to her, he started to lead his horse away. Angie began to follow him but he turned and held up his hand, said a few more words and pointed to the old woman. Angie stayed where she was as she watched him walk away, blending into the village.

  The old woman looked up at Angie holding her armload of colored string, and a frown came over her wrinkled face.

  Angie was about to say something, when suddenly, the overwhelming odor of skunk penetrated the area as a boy, not much older than herself, came stomping into the village. He was obviously angry and his mixed breed dog trotted sheepishly beside him. As his eye caught sight of Angie, he stopped in his tracks and examined her from head to foot several times. The smell became more than Angie could bear and she stepped back and wrinkled her nose, infuriating the curious boy. He let out a grunt and glared at Angie as he continued to stomp past her. The villagers began to laugh and point at him, and Angie wished she could understand them.

  Soon, a shriek could be heard from the other side of the village and Angie smiled as she saw the boy being escorted by his mother’s grasp to the river and she shoved him in. Angie joined in the laughter when the dog went in the water behind him. The old woman looked disapprovingly at Angie, but she didn’t utter a sound. The smile left Angie’s face as the old woman pointed for her to sit down.

  Angie obediently did so and the old woman grabbed the huge piles of yarn from Angie’s arms and tossed them aside. She then picked up a rock called a corn pounder and began to show Angie how to grind corn on a large worn rock. She then handed the long rock to Angie and barked some orders to her. Angie didn’t understand her, but she knew what the old woman wanted and began to grind the corn the best she could. The old woman became short of patience and shoved Angie’s hands down with her withered old fingers, showing Angie the proper way to grind corn. The old woman voiced her instructions in intelligible sounds to Angie.

  I’m not going to cry, Angie vowed, I’m strong like my daddy and I am not going to cry, not ever again!

  This had become Angie’s official introduction to Halona, the old woman whom she would come to live with. Halona made Angie work hard every day and never broke a smile. She seemed angry inside and had a very short temper. Angie felt as though she was always in Halona’s way and that Halona was irritated to have her living with her. No one came to visit with the old woman and she seemed to like it that way.

  In the evenings, after dinner, Angie would sit around the campfire and roll her yarn into different colored balls. Halona just shook her head and thought the girl to be crazy. Angie spent any free time she had washing the yarn and hanging it to dry. The villagers were curious about her many “colors of string” but no one touched it, as it seemed strange to them, all except Kimana, a friendly girl of Angie’s age. She loved to touch the yarn and helped Angie wash it clean. She was the first girl Angie had befriended in her new home.

  Within the next several weeks, Angie came to recognize most of the children in the village and began to learn their names.

  There was Chocheta, a happy girl who liked to talk a lot. Angie couldn’t understand her of course, but Angie knew that Chocheta was very friendly and that she liked her. Chocheta was pretty with beautiful shiny hair that was carefully combed and arranged by her mother.

  And there was Leotie, another girl around the same age as herself, who was very shy and would follow behind her friends everywhere they went. She was somewhat stout with pretty eyes and braided hair.

  And of course there was Kimana and Angie liked her best. She was the oldest of four children, with a younger sister, a younger brother, and a baby brother who was just born to her parents. She was kind and gentle and very patient with Angie. She was taller than Angie, had long black eyelashes, golden brown eyes, and a smile that warmed her face. Kimana and Angie were very curious about each other and spent most of their free time together

  Angie often saw Enyeto, the 12-year-old boy who had made such a surprising and odious impression on her first day in the village. His embarrassing predicament made him resent Angie and he teased her and tried to embarrass her as often as he could. He was slender and his long hair blew freely in the wind.

  He also had several friends he led around the village. Elsu seemed more mature for his age, with deep brown eyes and a quiet way about him, with a kind face. His thick hair hung in a braid down the middle of his back with a scalplock twisted on the top of his head, and an eagle feather stuck through it. Maybe his maturity came from being the Chief’s son, and more was expected of him.

  Siwili was Leotie’s older brother. He was more immature and he liked to be the center of attention, without much thought to the consequences that were sure to follow. He had a roundish face and his hair was pulled back tightly against his neck, hanging back in one long tail.

  Angie soon learned that her daily duties were to feed and care for the mule and some wild prairie chickens, wash clothes and cooking pots and utensils, and to help prepare food. But her favorite chore was to chase the crows from the maize fields. Together with Kimana, Chocheta, and Leotie, Angie would run and yell at the top of her lungs in and among the stalks of corn, waving their arms wildly, letting go of as much frustration and anger as she could.

  “Go away!” she would yell, thinking all the time the black bird was Enyeto.

  “Get out of here!” she screamed, this time she imagining it was Halona.

  “Don’t come back!” to her imaginary Pearl as she wa
ved her fist at the soaring crows above her.

  She would run and run and yell until she was exhausted. It felt so good to then rest in the green grass and feel almost peaceful. To stare up into the sunlit sky and watch the clouds drift slowly by. She’d dream about better days, days with her mother and father, days when she would play games chasing Billy around the yard and hearing her mother’s voice as she put blessings into the stitches of her blanket.

  One morning, after their early meal, Angie had returned from the river to find Halona busily tearing down their teepee and packing it onto a drag sled, two long poles covered by animal hides. She motioned for Angie to pick up some things and bring them to her. Angie realized that everywhere she looked, the women of the village were doing the same as Halona.

  There was a frigid cold in the air this morning and people were moving very quickly to accomplish their tasks. The poles with all their belongings were soon attached to the mule that had been given to Halona and it was not long when everyone was ready to leave the valley. Some families attached their drag sleds to their dogs that were eager to help with the move.

  Halona knelt down and pulled out an animal hide and wrapped it around herself to keep warm during their journey. She glanced up at Angie and then turned to pull out a smaller hide and handed it to Angie reluctantly. Angie smiled at Halona and wrapped it around her, but the old woman just stood up, and walked to the front of the mule, pulling it along with a rope behind her. Angie had the strange feeling of being back with the wagon train. Only this time, there was no wagon for comfort.

  The men had joined and several hundred Shoshone began the trek to the Plains for the winter. Angie didn’t understand where they were heading, only that they were taking her with them. Halona didn’t seem to mind if Angie was out of sight, so Angie spent most of her time walking with Kimana, who was trying to explain to Angie why they were moving. With the language barrier, the girls were both frustrated, but attempted to communicate anyway. Angie learned a few words along the way, but most of the time was not interested in exerting herself to learn the new language. She was more insistent on trying to teach Kimana the English language, which Kimana struggled with as well.

  In the evenings, the natives would sit around campfires to warm themselves, and sleep out in the open, wrapped up in hides and blankets. During the day, they would move on steadily south. Angie was impressed how quickly everyone moved, the people, the horses, mules, and dogs, taking everything they owned with them.

  Soon the air felt warmer and the ground became dryer, with fewer and fewer trees. Wide open fields lay before them and the sun started to beat down on them relentlessly. The blankets and hides were tied to their poles and drug along behind them, leaving long ruts through the dirt.

  Late one afternoon, Angie could see off in the distance the smoke of many campfires. Another large village of Shoshone people lived along another stretch of river out on the plains with no protection from trees. Just scrub brush and sagebrush lay all around. The last of a corn harvest was being gathered for the winter.

  As the front of the line started to enter the village, people all gathered around to welcome the new arrivals. There was much laughter and happiness as all began talking and sharing news. Angie supposed they must be relatives and it felt like Christmas had come, a time for celebration and merriment. She was anxious to finish her journey and ran up to walk along Halona into the village. Then, that same uncomfortable feeling began to overwhelm her again as the people from the new village stopped talking and began to stare at her. Her blonde hair and blue eyes stood out among the people wherever she was. She ignored them and walked alongside the old woman until Halona found a place she was satisfied with, to set up her teepee. Angie tried to help Halona, but felt she was more of a hindrance than a help. Halona kept pushing her aside and went about setting up her teepee all on her own. Angie was amazed at how efficient Halona was at her task. Angie could see that Halona had done this chore many times before and she knew it was best to just stay out of her way.

  She sat on the ground and petted a stray dog that had come to her for some attention. After the dog went on his way, Angie picked herself up and went to find Kimana. She found Chocheta’s family first, already set up and preparing a campfire. When Chocheta’s mother saw her, she motioned for Angie to come over to their teepee. Chocheta’s mother, Amitola, was very vain, and very beautiful. She smiled at Angie, and had her sit down.

  She pulled out a comb, and sat down behind Angie, and gently began to comb Angie’s tangled hair. Amitola knew that Halona was not interested in helping Angie with her grooming, and that Angie was left on her own to take care of herself. She decided that she would help in that regard and took great pride in fixing Angie’s hair into a beautiful long braid down the middle of her back.

  Chocheta sat beside Angie and showed her the dolls her mother had made her when she was a little girl. Angie held one and was amazed at how intricate the beadwork was on the dolls dress. She tried to tell Chocheta how beautiful the dress was, but became frustrated when her words were not understood. Finally, Angie smiled, nodded at Amitola, and then left to find Kimana.

  By late afternoon, Angie found each of her friends’ campsites and wandered back to her teepee to help prepare their evening meal.

  “See my hair,” Angie said to Halona, stroking her braid.

  Halona looked at her, shook her head, and went back to grinding corn. Then she handed the corn pounder to Angie and went into the teepee, leaving Angie to sit alone, wondering why Halona was so mean. Why couldn’t she be like Amitola? She was nice and seemed to care about her. Why were there so many mean people in the world, Pearl, Homer, and now Halona? But there were good people in the world too, and she would try her best to be like them and to be kind to others, the way her mother tried to teach her to be.

  How she missed her mother. She wished it had been her mother combing her hair today instead of Amitola. Speaking kind words of encouragement and kissing her on the top of her head. Would she ever stop missing her mother? She guessed not.

  I’ll never stop missing my mother. she thought to herself, I will always need my mother.

 

  The Name