The Spirits of Nature

Home > Other > The Spirits of Nature > Page 20
The Spirits of Nature Page 20

by Michelle Post


  Molly had told Lester her husband that she would be tending to a sick friend. She told him not to expect her home that night.

  Winter was a difficult time for fishermen. There were not many days that they could fish. Many had other trades for the long winter. In the best of circumstances they were still on edge and many were difficult to live with through the slow season. Molly and her husband for some undisclosed reason seemed to have enough to not just get by but be very comfortable. Molly asked but she was not privy to matters of their financial situation.

  ~

  Molly was wearing just her corset. Philip loved it. She was facing him while sitting on his lap on the bed in Philip’s hotel room. Philip wanted Molly to know everything. He told her about Fletcher Stone and how he had hired him. He clarified how Fletcher had told him his quest for Molly was fruitless. He was honest about his marriage to Rose. He told her how he met Rose and how innocent the love was that they shared. Philip also explained how the story of Rebecca had made him decide he had to find her.

  Molly understood the love and how it ruled Rebecca’s heart.

  “We cannot go on like this, Molly, there is no future,” Philip implored.

  Molly looked down. “I understand,” she said thinking that this meant good-bye.

  “I am going to take you away, somehow. We will tell Lester about us and you can leave him.”

  “And then what?” she asked.

  “You and I will be together. I cannot bear to lose you again,” he insisted.

  “Philip, have you taken leave of your senses? What makes you think that your father will accept this union any more now than he did before?”

  “Because, he has already lost one child, and he saw the pain when I lost Rose. I think that he may have learned that what he has done in the past does not work. And then there is Andrew. Surely he will want to acknowledge his grandchild and heir. As awful as the news is about Rebecca, it might mean our liberation.”

  “I don’t know, Philip. You are expecting a lot. Beside that, we will never be accepted in the circles your family has always traveled.”

  “I think you already know how I feel about that!” He shrugged off her concern.

  “I have made up my mind, tomorrow I will speak to my father. If that does not work then we will run off together.”

  Molly kept shaking her head. He had gone mad with desire. Their time together was so limited. She did not want to spend it arguing. She kissed him ready for love.

  They were lost in each other. Molly looked beautiful as Philip held her in his arms. She had the look of pleasure on her face that always delighted him so. He did not think anything of the scream she let out until he felt the sharp pain in his back. Just before he lost consciousness he saw her eyes become distant and without life. He could see that she was bleeding from her mouth.

  Lester stood at the hotel door he had just knocked in. He stood there resolved in what he had just done. The look in his eyes was one of a man beguiled and seeking revenge. He stood there for only a moment, his gun smoking.

  Philip did not realize until the next day that he had been shot. Molly had been the fortunate one. She died as the bullet hit her in the lower abdomen. Philip went in and out of consciousness for several days, just barely hanging on to life. When it was determined that he would live it was evident he had suffered severe damage to his spine. He would be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life.

  Jeremiah, realizing his part in this tragedy, had arranged for Molly to be buried in the cemetery behind the house. It was several weeks before Philip was well enough visit her grave. He was taken there by one of the servants. He signaled for them to leave him. He wanted to mourn in private. He looked at the large stone that Jeremiah had designed for Molly. It was an angel with the inscription of Molly Spencer Black. The dried wilted flowers were still there from the funeral, a funeral that he could not attend.

  Philip still could not believe that he had lost her! It had been a relationship that was a struggle from the beginning. He had always thought it could be overcome. Since he had met Molly he could see himself with only her. When he met Rose he had been given new hope. That ended tragically. There could never be another woman who would suffice. Now, in horror, he realized that his dream had died.

  In his sorrow and disbelief he could swear that he could smell the sweetness of her skin and he longed to touch the chestnut hair that she would let down in their moments of passion.

  Philip cried bitterly at her grave until dark. He made daily visits with fresh flowers. He would talk to her for hours at a time. It was believed that he was going mad.

  ~

  Lester escaped with Philip’s son after killing his wife and crippling Philip. He was a desperate man who did not want to lose his son as well. He carefully covered his tracks. He was not to be found.

  There were no family members to press for Lester’s arrest. The only hope that Philip had at this time was to someday find Andrew. It seemed hopeless.

  ~

  Within a week of burying Molly, Jeremiah died in his sleep of a broken heart. He died clutching the lock of hair from Rebecca in his hands.

  Mrs. Walters found him in the morning. He had perished sometime during the night. No one heard anything. He died alone and hopefully found some peace in all the tragedy he had just experienced.

  He took with him secrets that Philip needed to know.

  ~27~

  The Reliance of the Great Spirit

  The Mourning Dove had been with the Crow Indians for over two years. She looked at them in a different light when she began her life as Running Wolf’s wife in the true sense.

  The Crow were a handsome tribe. She had heard that even in her limited knowledge of the Indians. Once she accepted them as people of her level she was surprised at how she felt.

  Not only was she emotionally attached to Running Wolf but she found him striking in appearance as well. This along with the natural desires of a woman made her long to carry his child. She often wondered what they would produce with their parallel races. She knew in her heart the child would be beautiful.

  It had been almost a year since The Mourning Dove had delivered Fallen Sparrow. She wondered if she had not become barren. She wanted so much to give Running Wolf another son. Her arms longed to hold his child.

  Running Wolf wondered about the possibility of a child. He wanted an offspring but remembered the pain of losing Fallen Sparrow. He was also concerned that he could lose his wife. He could remember vividly seeing her with the look of death. After they had come so far he could not bear to lose her.

  He held strong to his faith to sustain him. He had been given a vision and the Great Spirit would fulfill that when the time was right. He was not restless and enjoyed the pleasures of a wife who had become as much a part of the tribe as if she had been born into the clan. The legacy of a great chief would not go unattended. There would be a child he was sure, one that would surpass his accomplishments.

  ~

  Running Wolf had passed the four criteria for becoming a great leader and chief when he was very young. He had been the first on several occasions to touch or strike the enemy during battle. It was considered to be the utmost in bravery when the Brave would only touch the enemy and not kill him. This was called counting coup. Running Wolf had done this on several occasions. He had taken a weapon from the enemy during battle. He had also taken a horse during battle. The fourth he had accomplished when he was avenging the death of Long Summer Day and led his tribe in battle. He was the first to kill and take the scalp of the enemy.

  It took a long time for The Mourning Dove to become adjusted to this chosen lifestyle. She had been raised in a very sheltered environment. She never had to prepare her own food. She had no idea how.

  She became ill the first time she accompanied Running Wolf and the rest of the tribe during the buffalo hunt. They would carefully butcher the animal for consumption on the field and bring it back to camp for further preparation. He had
to look away in amusement as she struggled with the task of preparing the hunted animal.

  Bright Star Over The Mountains was very compassionate to her and gently guided her through all the duties that were bestowed upon her. She was patient with The Mourning Dove and over time the wife of Running Wolf had grown very close to her husband’s mother.

  The affection felt by Running Wolf was indeed special. The rest of the clan emulated his devotion to her. It was not long before she was a revered member of the council. She would be instrumental in the decisions of the tribe and its people. Most of the members of the decision-making council consisted of women. This was especially appealing to Rebecca. She had grown up in a society where women were still basically subservient to men.

  When the incident occurred with Ross she had been the prey of malicious gossip. She knew that she had greatly reduced her success in acquiring a husband of any value when she was a marked woman. Yet, Ross had earned the forgiveness of his wife. He was not joked about in a negative way. He was in fact, looked upon by his peers as somewhat of a hero.

  The Mourning Dove fit easily into the Indian culture. They had a matriarchal family structure that she found appealing as well as natural. She felt much more at home. She understood why she only saw the family of Running Wolf from the side of his mother. When his father, Black Bear, married Bright Star Over The Mountains he was required to leave his clan and join hers.

  Their lineage was traced through the mother. This accounted for the position the women of the tribe held. The Brave still performed the traditional duties such as hunting and going to war. The women did a majority of the work. Like the other women, she would tend to the fire; she would prepare the food; and she was the one who made sure that the lodge was kept in order.

  The Mourning Dove embraced her role in the decision-making privileges that were bestowed upon the Indian women. She also thought back to the day she had such a strong feeling about leaving to come out to the west. How little she knew that she was entering into a realm that she would be much better suited to inhabit.

  Indian women were the heart of the family. She would set the tone for the day. The women had a very cohesive group among themselves. Bright Star Over The Mountains would prove to be instrumental in the raising of the children that Running Wolf and The Mourning Dove would have. The grandmother would tend to the children in order for the women and men to attend to their tasks.

  While the work was hard The Mourning Dove found that at night she felt a deep sense of pride for her chores well done. Her last obligation was to tend to the fire within her lodge and feed her husband. She could not think of a better way to end the day. As she grew to appreciate the ways and beliefs of the Crow, she understood that these feelings were with great merit.

  ~

  The Mourning Dove had hoped that during the time of the winter she would conceive. She was well into her thirty-seventh year and hoped her time for childbearing had not come to an end. She also felt it would make her life with Running Wolf complete.

  For now, she was enjoying the days of the long winter. The Mourning Dove liked the winter season most of all. There was so much time spent with Running Wolf. She loved to listen for hours to the stories Running Wolf would tell her in the privacy of their tent. What she treasured were the many cold nights she was kept warm and safe in the arms of her husband.

  He shared the experience of his vision dream and what it meant. Once she knew this, it only convinced her that her decision to travel west was more than an escape from the pressures of society. She was meant to be here by a force much greater than either one of them.

  ~

  When the first thunder of summer arrived it was time to put all story-telling aside and prepare for the great feast once more. There was new life all around and much to celebrate.

  The Mourning Dove always found this to be bittersweet. She loved the warmth of the winter fires and the closeness that made the nights so special. Yet the summer had its own magic. It was the time to reunite with the members of the tribe who had left to start a new village. It was also a time to merge once again with the people of her own kinship that the winter had kept in her possession.

  ~

  Her desires had come to pass and she was now growing large with child. The Mourning Dove calculated she would have her baby by the end of the summer.

  She was grateful for a sun that grew warmer with each passing day. She had been confined to the lodge for the winter and she needed to move about. She was uncomfortable with her size and with the weather permitting more activity outside she was feeling better. In a short time she was moving with more ease and agility.

  ~

  She stood on the shore with the other women cheering on her Brave. Running Wolf was paddling his canoe in an effort to win the race. He turned for a moment to see that he was ahead of the others by a considerable margin. When he reached the shore as the winner, he held up his paddle as he would a scalp in battle and let out a whelp.

  Running Wolf found his wife and they ran through the wheat field that had already begun to grow tall. They were far from the crowd as they fell to the ground laughing.

  The Mourning Dove tired so quickly these days. She lay on the ground looking at the formations of the summer clouds. Running Wolf lay beside her. He lifted the dress exposing her large belly. He put his head to the skin and felt the kicking of his unborn child. He smiled and kissed the swollen tummy and replaced the fabric.

  The Mourning Dove was always amazed at how he could look so fierce, yet be so gentle. She had seen him return from battle a decorated warrior with the ‘trophy’ scalps he had taken. He could hunt down a buffalo with speed and accuracy. He was able to provide well for her, as well as Rides With Fury and his mother.

  This took a man who did not think twice about the force it took to accomplish his feats. However, with his Mourning Dove he was soothing. The tenderness that he displayed to her was the catalyst that melted her frozen heart when she resisted him in the beginning.

  Today, as she enjoyed the warm spring day she reflected on the wise words of Mrs. Walters. Those words rang in The Mourning Dove’s mind about the kind of man that she should seek and deserve.

  ~

  She was much more guarded about the success of this pregnancy than Running Wolf. She felt more secure when she had past the time of her delivery of Fallen Sparrow. It appeared to her that Running Wolf was not as concerned. That bothered her.

  “How is it that you are not concerned? Are you not afraid of losing the baby or of me for that matter?”

  Running Wolf, confused by her lack of faith yet wanting to let her know of what she meant to him reassured her.

  “I cannot see my life without you. This child will come to us through our forefathers. He will be healthy and strong. It was part of my vision quest. The Creator does not lie in His promises. We have to remain obedient to Him and we will be given what we need.”

  For someone who had been educated in the finest schools that money could buy The Mourning Dove always learned from her husband and his people. They knew how to live from the land. They had a rich heritage and they did not have a need for the things that her culture thought was necessary. They had a faith that the ‘Creator’ would provide what they needed when they needed it. This was a trust that The Mourning Dove eventually respected. In time she hoped she too would grow into the kind of conviction that their faith had to offer.

  ~28~

  A Love Fulfilled

  Jack and I loved the fair. There were so many colors and the inactive reservation came to life with dancing and drums that played all day and into the night.

  My visits with Tiponi were coming to an end. He had wanted to celebrate and I did not want to interfere. Because of my association with Tiponi we were privy to some of the private parties.

  These people touched me. They had so little and yet they found pleasure in being together and celebrating an age-old custom. It was as though they had turned back the hands of time during th
is week. Gone were the problems of the modern day Indian.

  Their love of family was something that had stood the test of time. Children were always welcome and they danced and sang as much as the adults. Tiponi included us when he was invited to a private ceremony. It was a ceremony in which a traditional Indian name was given to a young man. We had reached a level of trust that we both valued as well as respected.

  One night Jack and I were at the restaurant that Lilly and her family owned. Jack was inside having a drink while I went outside to speak to Lilly. It was here that I decided to ask Lilly about my mysterious friend.

  “Why does he lurk about so much?” I asked her. “How come he seems so miserable?”

  “He is just one of many sad cases. You see, the Indians that have chosen to stay on the reservation have few options. Gone is the life we once had. The warrior only knew how to fight and hunt. When we were limited to the reservation the men were told to become farmers. They were stripped of a lifestyle that they thrived in and loved. If a Crow wants to live on the land of his father’s he has only a few options. That is why the unemployment rate is 65%!”

  I had some idea of the depression on the reservation. I wanted to learn firsthand from one of its inhabitants what I could about the current situation.

  She seemed to be in deep contemplation.

  “Let me start from the beginning, or rather the end. The buffalo was our way of life. When the white man came and brought the railroad the killing of the buffalo became a sport. It was thought that for each buffalo killed, the result would be one less Indian. They were right. That is how they justified their massacre of our food source.”

  When Lilly saw how solemn I had become she continued.

  “Floyd White Bird, your friend, once had a cattle ranch. It was land issued to each family head when we were limited to the reservation. He had to sell his land quite some time ago because of the economic situation.” She continued, “When he did this he lost his family in the process. His wife moved to Billings to find work and support their two children.”

 

‹ Prev