She did so hesitantly, but he made her repeat it until she got it right.
Then he pointed at Tanya once more and shook his head negatively. “MattahTan-Yah.” Jabbing her with his finger, he said, “Peshewa Matchsquathi.”
Tanya shook her head. “No, Tanya. Tanya,” she insisted.
He shook his head vigorously. “Peshewa Matchsquathi”he corrected.
For a moment he thought she would weep as she gave him a pitiful look. “I don’t want to be Peshewa Matchsquathi,”she said, pronouncing the name perfectly. “I want to be Tanya!”
“Mattah.”He shook his head at her.
“That, I take it, means ‘no,’ ”she muttered.
Again he jabbed her and waited. With a sigh she capitulated. “All right, I’ll be Peshewa Matchsquathi, whatever that means.”
On a piece of bark he drew a picture of a panther stalking his prey, and repeated his name, and she dually understood the meaning of his name. Mesh-
epesha Tsiwas A-Panther-Stalks. The name rang a bell, and she remembered the soldiers saying that the nephew of the Cheyenne chief, Black Kettle, was called A-Panther-Stalks. Thus she concluded they were captives of the Cheyenne. Later she would discover the meaning of her own name — Little Wildcat.
The remainder of the morning was a language lesson for Tanya. A-Panther-Stalks introduced her to Walks-Like-A-Duck, and the old woman took over from there. While Panther sat repairing a bridle, Walks-Like-A-Duck taught Tanya how to start the fire and cook the morning meal, diligently drumming into Tanya’s head the words for each item she touched.
Acutely conscious of her nudity, Tanya had to force herself to concentrate, particularly since Panther seemed disinclined to leave. Both he and Walks-Like-A-Duck blithely ignored her unclothed state however, and Tanya was forced to do the same, though her color remained high the entire time. Never had she appreciated privacy more than now, when she lacked it completely.
Tanya learned the Cheyenne words for face, arms, head, legs, mouth, nose, hair. Later Panther would teach her the words for the more intimate parts of her body, but ignorant of this for now, Tanya struggled to wrap her tongue around the strange, guttural syllables. She did not stop to ask herself why she bothered to learn; she just did it.
Besides picking up a few basic words and phrases, Tanya learned to fix the morning meal. Then she learned, much to her dismay, that after cooking it, she had to wait for Panther to eat first. The women were required to either busy themselves at something else or sit quietly until the man was finished, when they and the children could eat.
After breakfast, A-Panther-Stalks gave her a blanket to cover herself, wrapping it about her and tucking the loose end between her breasts. Tanya blushed to the roots of her hair. Looping the hated leash about her neck, he led her to a nearby stream. There he left her in Walks-Like-A-Duck’s charge, to be scrubbed clean with cold mountain water and sand until her skin glowed and her hair outshone the sun.
Gowned in a deerskin sheath that pulled on over her head and reached past mid-calf, Tanya at last felt decently covered. The dress was sleeveless and plain, with a drawstring neckline and a strip of leather for a belt, but it could have been a satin ballgown, so grateful was she for it. Clean, fed, dressed, and with soft moccasins on her feet, Tanya felt almost normal again, but she cringed inwardly as Panther slipped the leash about her slim neck once more.
Before returning her to his tipi, Panther led her about the encampment. When several young boys would have taunted her, a few sharp words from him turned them away. Embarrassed and ashamed, she hung her head, looking at the ground as she walked. He stopped and with firm hands, straightened her posture, throwing her shoulders back and her chin up. From then on, she walked behind him, her head high and her back straight.
Tanya’s natural curiosity soon took over, and she looked about her eagerly. Though constructed the same, each tipi was decorated differently. Panther’s, she knew, had elaborate replicas of fierce panthers painted on it. The chiefs was black and had a bright yellow sun rising over a mountain. Some had moons and stars; some had pictures of animals; but each was individual. The largest and more elaborate were toward the center of the village, the others fanning out in gradually widening circles toward the edge of the camp.
Some tipis had small awnings constructed over the entrance, and many had fires outside as well as in. Tanya noticed that all the entrances faced east, toward the rising sun. In front of many tipis, women were busy at work. No one approached or spoke to Tanya, but every few feet a warrior or woman greeted Panther.
Toward the end of their tour, Panther led her to a staked-off area where the horses were kept. A young brave was trying to tame a wild pony. The pony was tied to a central stake by a long rope, and each time the brave attempted to approach, the horse would rear and shy away. With infinite patience, the man would wait until the horse settled down and try again. Panther and Tanya watched a long time as the brave talked softly, crooning to the frightened beast, until it finally let him come close enough for the warrior to hold out his hand for the animal to smell. The horse would not let the man touch him, but stood quivering and wary, nostrils flared as he inhaled the Indian’s scent.
Panther led her back to his tipi. There he tied her to a longer rope and left her in Walks-Like-A-Duck’s charge. Throughout the long afternoon she learned to grind dried corn into a fine powder with a bowl and pestle. Huge blisters rose and broke on her tender fingers. Panther returned and flung two dead rabbits at her feet, and much to her disgust, she then learned to skin and cook them. As the rabbits stewed in the pot, Walks-Like-A-Duck showed her how to prepare the rabbit hides for tanning.
Weary beyond belief, Tanya watched sleepily as Panther ate the meal she and Walks-Like-A-Duck had prepared. Almost too tired to eat, she forced herself through her own meal. When Walks-Like-A-Duck left for the evening, she took with her Tanya’s dress, leaving the girl bereft, frightened, and naked once again. With no one to see or care, Tanya had cried herself to sleep on her pallet long before Panther returned.
Chapter 3
TANYA’S DAYS took up a pattern after that first one. Each morning she would arise early, and as Panther sat chanting his prayer outside the tent entrance, she would start the fire and prepare their morning meal. Walks-Like-A-Duck would arrive with Tanya’s beloved dress, and they would make a trip, leash and all, to the stream to bathe and gather water. After straightening the tipi and washing the bowls, the day would truly begin.
It was spring in the mountains, and soon the Cheyenne would leave their winter camp to follow the buffalo herds across the vast plains, but first there were preparations to make. Men sharpened their weapons, restrung their bows, trained their ponies, and checked their equipment. Braves, young and old, trained for war, practicing for many hours.
The women were equally busy. While the sun was yet gentle, they gathered in the fields, hoeing and planting the new crop. The food would be planted and left to nature, since they were a wandering tribe, and perhaps in the late fall they would return to their winter camp and harvest what they could for winter. They planted corn and beans, pumpkins and melons, and cultivated wild wheat and potatoes. In the autumn they would find wild squash, onions, carrots, and turnips to add to the fare, as well as fall berries, apples, nuts, grapes and honey.
When the sun rose higher, they would take to the woods, gathering wild strawberries and spring berries. They plucked strange plants Tanya had never seen before, some for stewing, some for seasoning, and some for their medicinal value, and they gathered firewood along the way. Even the flowers had a use other than their fragrant beauty. Finally they would all trudge home to prepare what they had found.
Sometimes the roots and plants and berries were cooked (boiled or stewed) and mashed, then dried and ground to a powder. Others were strung and dried as they were. Walks-Like-A-Duck patiently and thoroughly led Tanya through all the intricacies of the preparations. In addition to this, she taught Tanya how to skin, bone, and prepare the
fish and meat Panther brought in. Nothing, it seemed, was wasted. Some of the fish they smoked and dried; others they ate. The bones were saved and fashioned into needles. Oil was extracted from glands and carefully hoarded in waterproof pouches, as was the fat from ducks and geese. The eggs from the fowl they ate and relished. Turtles were a feast, their eggs a delicacy, and crayfish a delight.
Every scrap of meat from an animal was either eaten or smoked and dried. Every bone and sinew found a use in the preparation of food, clothing, or weapons. Each hide was carefully prepared and treated to become a household article or item of clothing. Every gland had a use of some sort, whether for its vitamin content, its medicinal value, or its lubricating qualities. Tanya had never seen a more thrifty, ingenious, and industrious people. They took from the land only what they needed to survive, replaced what they could, and used everything totally and wisely. Anything else they might need or want …coffee, sugar, flour, blankets …they traded for with their government agent, Major Edward Wynkoop at Ft. Lyon or Ft. Larned.
Tanya was learning the Cheyenne language by leaps and bounds. Panther, Walks-Like-A-Duck, and the other women constantly pointed out new things and taught her their Indian names. Even the children would help her learn and pronounce the strange words. They directed her in her work and corrected her pronunciation, and had in no way mistreated her since that first day, but neither were they open and welcoming. Tanya was both white and a slave, and only Panther’s protection prevented them from taunting and beating her as they often did the other captives.
Tanya saw her friends nearly every day, but was not allowed to communicate with them. The first time she had tried, the result was disastrous. When she attempted to speak to one of them, she was drawn up short on her leash, the words choking in her throat, but this was mild compared to the punishment the other girls received if they tried to speak. Their captor’s wives, or the women set to guard them, would immediately beat them. They hit and kicked and pinched and pulled at their already battered victims, sometimes beating them with sticks or lashes until they fell bleeding to the ground. The girls soon learned to ignore each other’s presence, painful though it was, for it was far more painful not to do so.
Tanya was appalled at the condition of the other girls. Melissa was the worst, her swollen face barely recognizable beneath the lumps and bruises. Still clad, if you could call it that, in her tattered petticoat, she was a mass of bruises and dirt. Her once-bright hair hung in dirty, tangled strands, her blue eyes glazed with pain and misery. She hobbled along, sore and weary, every shred of pride stripped from her.
Nancy fared little better, and though Rosemary now wore a grimy, grease-stained deerskin dress to cover her bony body, she had a gap where one of her front teeth used to be. Suellen also sported an old, dirty deerskin dress, her glorious red hair matted and tangled, her fingernails broken and grimy, but she had fewer bruises than the others.
Tanya was almost embarrassed to appear before them clean and whole, her tawny hair brushed and shining, her dress clean and mended. She felt ashamed to think she had bemoaned her fate, when the others had fared so much worse. Compared to them, she was being treated as a pampered princess! So far Panther had not raped her. He had not beaten her since her attempted escape. Other than the humiliation of the leash and having to expose her nakedness to him each evening, he had not treated her badly at all. He had even introduced her to a lovely young Indian woman, Shy Deer, with whom she was becoming friends.
At some time during her busy day, Panther took her for a walk through the village, always on her dreaded leash. She grew to hate the leash and all it symbolized, but she put up with it so as not to forfeit her precious walks. Always, they ended their walk by stopping a while to watch the young brave training his spotted pony. His progress was slow, but steady. The first day, the horse finally sniffed at his hand. The second, the Cheyenne could stroke his head and muzzle. By the end of the third day, he was stroking the pony’s back and whithers almost anywhere he wished.
If Tanya’s days were busy, her nights were tense.
After her first full day at the camp, she had fallen into an exhausted sleep, only to awaken later when Panther had returned. The first she sensed his presence was when he had lowered himself onto a pallet next to hers. He had removed his moccasins and breechcloth, and lay in naked splendor next to her. He had stopped her with a hand about her wrist when she tried to move away from him, but otherwise he had not touched her. All he required was that she lay quietly next to him.
The following night he had insisted that she share his pallet, holding her closely to him, their naked bodies touching. His embrace was warm, and once she was assured he wanted nothing more, she found his arms strangely comforting. She awoke the next morning to find her head pillowed on his chest, their limbs entangled.
The third night had been more disquieting. Settled on their pallet, Panther had drawn her close to him. Then he had commenced stroking her hair and face. His long bronze fingers followed the planes of her face, tracing her eyes, her nose, the shape of her lips as they quivered under his touch. Briefly he had let his hands discover the contours of her body, lingering for a moment over her thighs and breasts. Just when Tanya was starting to panic, he ceased his explorations, cuddled her close, and went to sleep. It took Tanya much longer to gain her rest that night as she lay awake reviewing this new advance. It confused her to admit his touch had not been repugnant.
Now, as she sat at the edge of the stream with Shy Deer and Walks-Like-A-Duck, she wondered at her reactions. Dread and anticipation mixed equally within her as she sat laundering Panther’s clothes. Panther would be coming to get her soon for their walk. One part of her looked forward to his arrival, and another pleaded for more time before he came.
The brave was making progress with his wild, spotted pony. In the last six days he had gotten the animal to come to him for treats, then to come when called, and then to accept a halter. Now he was able to lead him about on a lead line. Yesterday the pony had accepted a blanket across his back, and this afternoon, the weight of the brave half-laying across his back.
Tanya was making progress of her own. She had been in the Cheyenne village nine days now. She had learned a great deal and worked hard. Her muscles were becoming more accustomed to her labors; her hands no longer bled. Her back and bottom no longer smarted from her lashing, and the scab on her thigh had finally fallen off, leaving only shiny, bright pink flesh to mark her branding. Where her skin was exposed to the sun and wind, she was now tanned a light gold. Her command of the Cheyenne language was rapidly improving to the point that she could now form simple sentences and understand many things said to her if the words were basic and spoken slowly.
When Panther was not occupying her time or thoughts, Tanya worried about her family and fiancé. Had they figured out what had happened to her and the others? Had they searched for the missing women? Was rescue possible in the next few days, or had the Cheyenne covered their tracks too well? Would they give the women up for dead and stop looking?
Where was her family now? she wondered. Had they gone on to Pueblo or returned to Ft. Lyon? Had Jeffrey been notified, and Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle George? Did they have any inkling that A-Panther- Stalks was behind the abduction? Did Julie realize what a narrow escape she’d had? Did everyone miss her as much as she did them? Was Jeffrey distraught? How were her mother and father coping with this disaster?
Tanya’s one prayer was that rescue would come soon, before she became too accustomed to this life. With her fierce will to survive and excel, she was well aware of how quickly she was adjusting. Young and flexible, her ear and tongue were picking up the language rapidly, and her body was beginning to respond to Panther’s caresses in the long, dark nights.
Each night for more than a week now she had shared his mat. Panther had progressed from stroking her lightly to long periods of stroking and kissing and whispering to her in the amber glow of the tipi. Each night she fell more under his hypnotic sp
ell. Beneath his burning black gaze, she felt her resolve melting. With his warm lips molded to hers, his tongue searching out the hidden recesses of her mouth and tangling with hers, her senses would take over and her mind spin out of control. At first she had been too frightened to respond, determined to ignore the first tentative stirrings of her body, but as his hands worked their magic across her skin she was weakening.
Now, over a week later, Tanya was more confused than ever. Just the night before, she had found herself responding hotly to his caresses and returning them with her own. Tonight, as she lay on the mat watching Panther undress, she shivered, a shiver that had nothing to do with fear of being hurt, but everything to do with her fear of losing herself to him entirely.
He was a beautiful male animal; tall, bronze, graceful, with a power representative of his namesake. Panther lay down and gathered her trembling body close. Gazing deeply into her golden eyes, he felt his own body begin to throb with passion. Now thoroughly familiar with her silken skin, his hands took their own course, memorizing her curves and contours. His lips lowered to cover hers, claiming their sweetness as his alone, his tongue delving deeply into her mouth.
Tanya had told herself she would not respond to Panther’s lovemaking this night, but the minute his mouth claimed hers, she was lost to reason. As his wandering hands charted her body, she began to tremble violently beneath his touch. His lips moved over hers, melting them like hot wax, boldly staking his claim. One hand caught her hair and held her head still for his kisses, while the other moved upward along her ribcage, seeking and finding one swollen breast. Slim, agile fingers sought her rosy nipple, teasing it erect, creating an aching throb in her loins.
Leaving her lips, his mouth mapped a course across her face, placing delicate kisses along her brow, her nose, her eyes, her jaw, finding its way to her ear and making her shiver as he traced its contours with his tongue. On down her neck his teeth nipped and his tongue soothed until he found the sensual curve of her shoulder. His loosened hair caressed her breasts and shoulders.
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