Shadow Hawk

by Jeanie P Johnson

  After Shadow Hawk, had washed me, he gave me the root and lifted my hand, placing it on his chest, pulling it down over his skin, as he instructed me to bath him. I felt timid, and pulled my hand away, but he replaced it, insisting I run the strange-looking soap, that resembled an onion, over him, in the same way he had run it over me.

  After a moment of standing motionless, I slowly began to move my hand over his smooth, firm shin. When I hesitated, he encouraged me, and smiled down at me in my inner confusion. The feel of his skin beneath my finger tips had a certain effect on me that I was trying to understand. It was between pleasure and excitement, as I discovered the shape of his muscles beneath my touch. They felt intriguing to me, and I found myself wanting to discover more of the feel of him, as I moved my hand over his body. When I hesitated, as my hand reached his waist, his hand went down over mine, leading my movements, as yet a new discovery presented itself, and made me catch my breath, once his mysterious form that was so opposite to mine, was introduced to my touch. He would not allow me to pull my hand away in shyness, but his insistence that I continue was gentle, and not forceful.

  I tried to calm my breath at this new experience, trying to get comfortable with what I was discovering beneath my fingers. Somehow the soap I had been using had slipped away, and only my hand was making contact with his skin. My fingers continued to explore the texture of him as my growing curiosity began to prod me onward against my will. The silky firmness of him amazed me, and I knew my touch had caused a change in him that I was trying to account for. My curiosity had not been satisfied yet, and since he seemed to encourage this method of discovery, I went boldly on, encountering the shape and feel of him. He seemed eager to allow me to shed my shyness in this; acting pleased that I was not refusing this new knowledge.

  As my fingers continued to trace the shape of him, he led me back up to the shore, where I could look upon what my fingers had touched beneath the water. Though I had seen him many times in the past, this seemed much different and more intimate than it had ever felt then, when I merely looked upon his anatomy, and wondered at my draw for doing so. He was watching my somewhat timid attempt to learn more about our physical differences, and my eyes expanded at the discovery of how he seemed to rise to my touch.

  Suddenly, the moment was shattered by someone screeching, and I turned to see Shy Dove standing on the shore watching us. She marched forward and pushed me away from Shadow Hawk, as she continued to scold him in accusing Indian words. She had a blanket wrapped around her, and I assumed she must have been bathing near by, and discovered us there.

  Shadow Hawk’s face turned fierce, as he grabbed her arm and led her back up the bank, pushing her away, and pointing toward the village, where I assumed he was telling her to go. She gave an angry look in my direction and yelled something at me, and then stomped away.

  Shadow Hawk returned to me, and pulled me back out into the water. There he placed his arms around me, and held me to him. I could feel him pressing firmly against me, as he hugged me to him, not allowing me to move as he kissed my forehead. He spoke softly to me in his own language, as if trying to calm me, and tell me not to fear Shy Dove. Or maybe, he just wanted to prove to me, I was the one he wanted, and not her.

  Finally, he led me to the shore. He dried me with the blanket, he had brought, then began to comb my hair, and braid it, taking his time as he ran his fingers through the strands to separate them into sections. When he was finished, he handed me the comb, and turned his back to me. I remember what Hudson had told me as I started to pull the comb through his thick, dark hair with my shaking hand. Hair he believed to be his soul, which he was putting in my care. Then I too, braided his hair, and when I was finished, he turned and looked at me, taking in every curve of my body as I stood before him, feeling bolder than I ever had, up to this point. I returned the unabashed appraisal, with the same interest he showed, remembering the feel of him under my fingers, and wondering why I enjoyed the feel of him so much.

  Shadow Hawk lifted my dress, pulling it down over my body. He did not give me my under-things. I suppose he didn’t feel they were necessary, since apparently the Indians did not bother to wear under things. He put his breechcloth on, and then scooped up my under things in his hand, along with his blanket. As he walked away, I could see him bringing my under things against his face, taking in a deep breath. Somehow, he wanted to have the scent of me near him, and that must be why he took my clothes.

  Now all I had to my name was a bowl and spoon, I thought sardonically, as I picked up the wooden bowl and spoon. I looked down at them in my hand, but what I was remembering, was the form of Shadow Hawk when I had looked down on him, and the way he felt beneath my fingers. I didn’t think I would ever get it out of my head, and maybe I actually didn’t want to, I thought.

  I had to admit, that Shadow Hawk was slowly trying to seduce me into wanting to marry him, and I wondered if he was capable of doing it. At the moment, my loneliness made me want a partner, to touch me and comb my hair, but my repulsion of actually becoming a part of a heathen tribe, fought against it. I was totally confused, but determined to stand my ground.

  I slept under the buffalo robes in Hudson and Little Flower’s teepee, with no clothes on. Before, I had Shadow Hawk’s arms around me. Now, I felt alone and slightly cold. Nonetheless, I knew the only way Shadow Hawk would ever sleep with me and hold me in his arms like he had before, was if I married him. I was fighting against it, with every fiber in my body. I chalked up my strong feelings towards Shadow Hawk as being homesick, and the fact that I had traveled with him and became familiar with him. It had nothing to do with how I felt about him as a man, or a friend. I had to remind myself he was a wild Indian. He was not the boy down the street come to call and then ask for my hand in marriage. He should go to Shy Dove, I told myself. At least with her, he would know that she loved him and wanted him. With me, he had no promise.

  The next morning, Hudson informed me that Shadow Hawk, had left with the rest of the hunting party, and those women who would be responsible for skinning the buffalo and cutting up the meat. They may be gone for several days because they had to wait for the herd to pass through, where Shadow Hawk had predicted they would most likely come.

  Now I knew why Shadow Hawk had bathed with me, and had me touch him, even taking my clothes with him. He knew he would not be seeing me for several days, and he didn’t want me to forget him. How could he know that the very touch of him would haunt me every night? Could he read me that easily? Or was it because he wanted my touch to haunt him, as he smelled the scent from my clothes that he took? Whatever the reason, I feared it might be working.

  “He told me I needed to teach you some Sioux words before he returned,” Hudson told me.

  “Did he?” I asked. “I told you that if he wanted to talk to me, he needed to learn my language,” I said haughtily. “I have not changed my mind, so if he doesn’t want to end up having Shy Dove as his wife, who already knows his language, he had better make an effort to win me over by learning my language!”

  Hudson started laughing.

  “I believe you are going to wield some of your womanly power,” he smiled. “Shadow Hawk is not going to like it. He is a chief and expects to have respect shown towards his wishes. He has worked hard to attain the position he has in the tribe, and it would not look good for him to be bowing to a woman’s wishes; especially a white woman’s wishes. He would lose face, if that happened.”

  “Then, apparently he doesn’t want me to be his wife very bad,” I laughed back. “My parents once told me that if you don’t have to work hard for something that you want a lot, it has less value. If Shadow Hawk values me at all, he will have to bow to some of my wishes! However, I don’t ever intend to marry Shadow Hawk, so why should I care if he loses face?”

  Hudson gave me a worried look. “Don’t do anything you may regret,” he murmured, and then left the teepee.

  I knew that Shadow Hawk would never bow to my wishes. He ha
d shown me very clearly that he expected me to obey him, while we were traveling together. The only reason he had given in to me at all, was because he was afraid I might drown myself, and he wouldn’t be able to have me if that happened. This was a way I could keep Shadow Hawk at a distance, and subsequently blame it on him when he wouldn’t comply, I decided, cunningly, to myself. Even so, I knew I was going to miss him while he was gone.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The next few days, I became more familiar with my surroundings. I wandered about the camp, watching the women as they made racks. I was told the racks were to dry the meat on when the hunting party started bringing the buffalo into camp. There were hundreds of racks, and I was impressed by the industry the Indians were using to, to ensure that they would have food over the winter.

  I thought about how my mother, and I had bottled food to bring with us on the Oregon trail, and how it took a whole year to prepare for the event. It appeared that the Indians had to prepare like this, every time there was a hunt, which Hudson told me they had about three, or four times a year, depending on how well the hunt went. This was the summer hunt. Next would be the fall hunt, and then after the winter was spent living on what they killed during the fall, along with what other fresh meat they could find by hunting smaller animals, they would have the spring-hunt.

  It was a never-ending cycle of survival, I thought, and everyone seemed to be working so hard, not only to prepare food for the winter, but to make clothes, and teepees, and other things they needed everyday. I marveled at their talent, but I did not envy them. They seemed overworked, in spite of their happy expressions, as they went about their various jobs.

  Each night I thought about how Shadow Hawk had bathed me, and how I had bathed him in return. I wondered if he thought about the same thing at night? During the day, Hudson attempted to teach me Sioux-words, but I refused to show any progress. I already knew a few words I had learned while camping with Shadow Hawk, but it was too much of an effort for me to try to form sentences with the strange dialect, where each one of their words seemed twice as long as one of our words.

  Instead, I occupied myself gathering wild flowers and making wreaths to put in my hair, as I sat upon the bank along the river, remembering how lonely it had become to bathe by myself now. I had made a daisy chain and had just plopped it on my head, when I felt someone snatch it away, and I turned to discover Shy Dove, hovering over me.

  She started bellowing at me in her own language, which I didn’t understand, and I merely looked at her, feeling shocked at her aggressive nature. But then she was a wild Indian, so what did I expect? Before I realized what was happening, she had pounced on me and was tearing at my hair and dress, biting me, and scratching me in her eagerness to show her hatred towards me. It was all I could do, to hold her off, because I hadn’t expected her to treat me so viciously.

  A moment later, Hudson was there, pulling her off of me, and talking to her in her own language. It took awhile for her to settle down and then leave the scene.

  “She is very jealous of you,” Hudson told me what I already knew. “I told her if she harmed you, Shadow Hawk, would have her banned from the village. It is against the rules to fight among the tribe, and if someone kills someone else in their same tribe, even in self-defense, he is banished to take care of himself without the help of the tribe. They are very strict about keeping peace in their own village. Sometimes, when this happens, the banished person goes and joins another tribe, but if he gets the reputation as a trouble maker, no one would welcome him. This goes for both male and female, so Shy Dove would be risking a lot if she harmed you.

  “She doesn’t consider you part of the tribe though. She believes you only to be a servant or slave, because you have not been officially adopted by the tribe, which would have to happen before Shadow Hawk could ever marry you. I had to remind her, that even if you were a servant or a prisoner, you belonged to Shadow Hawk, and he would frown on her for misusing anything that belonged to him.”

  Hudson helped me up on my feet. “You do look a little worse for wear, and I do believe you are going to develop a shiner, not to mention the scratches all over your face. Shadow Hawk is not going to be happy when he discovers that Shy Dove has spoiled your looks. Only I assume it will merely be temporary.”

  I looked down and discovered that my beautiful squaw dress had been ripped, and the beads had been torn part way off, and I felt bad that Shy Dove had ruined Little Flower’s dress.

  “I will mend Little Flowers’s dress,” I told Hudson.

  “It is your dress,” Hudson said. “It was a gift, but it is a shame that Shy Dove spoiled it for you.”

  “Perhaps it would be better if you took me back with you, when you go to Missouri to sell your pelts. I have an aunt who lives there, along with friends we left behind. At least, I will be with someone I know, and if my mother writes her sister, she will discover I am safe,” I suggested. “I am making trouble for both Shadow Hawk and Shy Dove. I don’t belong here. I will never be one of them.”

  “I don’t think Shadow Hawk would let you leave with me. He thinks he owns you now, since he saved your life. It is the belief of the Indian, if they save someone’s life, they are responsible for that life from there on in. Even if you never marry Shadow Hawk, he would feel accountable for your welfare. There is more connection between the two of you than meets the eye, my dear.”

  “But it is his belief, not mine! Why should I follow his customs? I am not an Indian like him,” I complained.

  “But you are here in Indian territory, and so you have very little choice. Even if I wanted to take you with me, he would prevent it, because even though I am a member of this tribe now, I too have to live by the rules, and I cannot take anything that belongs to Shadow Hawk.”

  I fumed inwardly as I began to discover there was very little anyone could do to prevent Shadow Hawk from having his way. The only thing I could do was to make Shadow Hawk change his mind about wanting me for his wife, but I wasn’t sure how to go about it, because when I was near him, he seemed to have some unknown power over me, and I always ended up doing what he wanted me to do against my will.

  I worked at mending my dress, and Little Flower showed me how to do the bead work on the yoke, so it kept me busy, and I remained in the teepee where Shy Dove could not attack me in the future.

  A day later, the women started bringing in the meat. They had it wrapped in the buffalo hides, which were tied to their horses, and they drug behind them. Once they deposited one load of meat, they went back for a new load.

  Now the rest of the tribe members, both young and old, were cutting strips off of the meat, and placing them on the racks to dry. I felt guilty just standing and watching, so I too found a knife, and started helping to cut the strips of meat. Little Flower smiled at me approvingly, and Hudson laughed and said I may end up becoming a good Indian after all.

  When each hide was emptied, someone would take it and start to prepare it for tanning, submerging it in a brine made from the brains, letting it soak, while they went back to preparing the meat. This continued throughout the rest of the day, and late into the night, because they could not allow the meat to spoil, before they put it on the racks. Some of the meat was used for the evening meal, and the whole village smelled of cooking meat.

  It was in the evening, when Shadow Hawk, approached me, as I had just finished cutting strips of meat for the day. My hands were covered in blood, and they ached from all the cutting I had done. Shadow Hawk, took my hands in his and kissed them, blood and all, and then he led me down to the river, where we removed our clothes, and walked out into the water. He looked as tired as I felt, and I knew he too had been working hard.

  When we had washed the blood from our body, for he too had been splattered with blood during the hunt, Shadow Hawk paused, and seemed to notice the scratches on my face, and my black eye. His face looked upset, as he began questioning me in his own language, but there was no way I could tell him what had happened.


  He traced his fingers over my scratches. Then he saw the bite mark on my arm, and he must have guessed what had happened. I could see the anger rising within him as he tried to calm himself, and since I did not want him to be so upset, I put my arms around his neck to constrain him.

  When I did that, he stilled. Suddenly, his head was bending closer, his lips brushing against mine, until they covered my lips completely. It caught me off guard, the way he clutched me to him, continuing to kiss my trembling lips. When our lips parted, he stood there, holding my head in his hands, studying my face, with such passion in his eyes, it took my breath away, and then he was kissing me once more, pulling the essence of my very soul from within me. It raced up to meet him unexpectedly, because I had told myself, I would never allow Shadow Hawk to touch me or hold me again, yet now I was welcoming the feel of him as he hugged me against his body, and explored my mouth with his.

  Soon he was bringing me to the bank, laying down in the shallow water with me, as he continued to consume my mouth and hold me against him, covering my face with kisses, as he placed his lips on each scratch, and against my black eye, and then back to my lips again.

  Eventually, he seemed to collect himself. He still acted upset, making a low sound in his throat, as he pulled me back up to my feet, abruptly handing me my dress. He didn’t stay to wait for me to get dressed. He merely pulled his breechcloth on and walked away. It hurt my feelings, since he had been kissing me, as though he had missed me as much as I discovered I had been missing him. I couldn’t understand why he abruptly left without a backward glance, as though he was angry at me for some reason. He had not even bothered to stay to care for my hair…my soul. I wondered if I had unknowingly done something to upset him, as I watched his strong back disappear into the overgrowth.