Daughter of the Eagle

by Don Coldsmith

  Perhaps Long Walker should have felt more secure. Deep in the storage space behind the lining of Eagle’s lodge was a small rawhide pack belonging to his daughter. For many seasons the girl had assembled items to be used in her own lodge.

  But Long Walker had no way to know the womanly instincts of this young woman. He could only see that she seemed to be behaving in a very unfeminine way. This was affecting the young warrior deeply and in strange ways.

  First, it seemed that the girl was becoming more attractive and desirable to him. Perhaps it was only inaccessibility, but he felt increasingly drawn to her.

  Then there was the matter of concern for the girl’s safety. Long Walker found himself increasingly anxious that she would find herself in a situation of great danger because of her masculine pursuits. He felt an urge to hold her, to protect and shelter her from harm. Wisely he refrained from any move in that direction. He realized that in her present stubborn frame of mind it would only make her angrier with him.

  There was a very real danger in the offing. He was not concerned with the immediate physical danger of the hunt. Long Walker had confidence in her ability to handle that. But, if she succeeded and applied to the Elk-dog Society, the next step was the fast and the vision.

  Each warrior, before formal induction, must go alone to a remote place. With no human contact for at least three days, the aspiring warrior would spend the time in prayer and fasting, seeking his vision. It was during this time that he would find his spirit guide, his medicine animal whose identity he must never reveal.

  Long Walker had gone through this religious rite two summers previously. It had been a deeply satisfying experience. But, it must be conceded, it was sometimes dangerous.

  There was always the possibility of accident or injury, but this was a way of life. It was made only slightly more hazardous by the fact that no one else must know where the vision seeker was.

  The real danger, however, was not from the elements or wild animals, but from the enemy. The Head Splitters were always a threat. Owl, the medicine man, had been captured during his vision quest and carried far away to be sold as a slave to strange tribes. True, in the end it had made his medicine even stronger, but it was certainly not a desirable thing.

  And for a girl to take such risks was beyond the understanding of Long Walker. It was known that the Head Splitters loved to kidnap women or young girls of the People. “Our women are prettier than theirs” had long been the accepted attitude of the People.

  It was true. Longer of limb and more graceful of movement, a girl of the People was a prize for a Head Splitter to capture.

  For all these reasons Long Walker became increasingly apprehensive for Eagle Woman. He could see no way in which he could protect her from the mounting threats to her safety if she persisted in this course of action. That is, he could not protect her from herself.

  He rose from his place of concealment, where he had been watching the girl’s practice, and walked back toward the village. Angry and frustrated, Long Walker tossed a rock at a yapping dog that irritated him. The animal retreated with a yelp. If only all his worries could be banished so easily.

  A young man on horseback was riding through the camp, calling an announcement. Long Walker hurried forward to listen.

  The message was simple. The scouts had discovered a large herd of migrating buffalo moving into the greening area. The medicine man had burned last year’s dry grass at the proper time, and the Moon of Greening had come with the returning herds.

  There would be a great buffalo hunt tomorrow.

  4

  Eagle Woman, tense with the excitement of the hunt, held her gray mare in line with the other hunters as they approached the top of the ridge. On her right Long Walker smiled a nervous smile of encouragement at the girl.

  She knew he disapproved of her efforts. He had scarcely bothered to conceal that he had watched her every day at her practice. The knowledge affected the girl with mixed emotions. She was indignant that he should be so presumptuous, yet at the same time she was pleased. It was a good feeling to have a loyal friend such as Walker.

  Eagle Woman tried constantly to reassure herself that this was the only basis for the warm sensation she felt when she thought about him. Of course she had no romantic interest in Long Walker. He was a friend, a good-natured competitor, whose company she enjoyed. Nothing more.

  Besides, he had laughed at her. At the very memory, she gave her glossy braids a toss over her shoulder in indignation. At least Long Walker had had enough insight to refrain from repeating the error.

  She looked straight ahead, a reassuring right hand resting on the neck of her horse. The animal had been a gift from her father. Cat quick, the mare was called Gray Cat by family and friends. It was descended directly from her grandfather’s First Elk-dog, Lolita, and had much the same appearance and agility, it was said. Eagle had trained the little mare well, and confidence on the part of the girl had resulted in an effective team. The animal thoroughly understood the pursuit of the buffalo. There was no way to teach that. It would either be there or not.

  The riders were now topping the grassy ridge, and Eagle Woman could see the dark shapes of numerous buffalo ahead. The mare’s ears pricked sharply forward at the scent. Eagle Woman balanced carefully, alert lest the mare jump unexpectedly, but the animal remained calm.

  On the left Long Elk, leader of the hunt, signaled forward, and the line moved at a faster walk. The scattered buffalo were becoming alert now. A nervous old cow lifted her head to catch the scent and moved uncertainly back and forth. Her vision was not acute enough to identify the approaching figures. Other animals, previously resting, were lumbering to their feet now, peering confusedly at the approaching hunters.

  A shift in the light breeze suddenly allowed a whiff of human scent to drift in the direction of the herd, and an individual animal here and there started to trot away. Some merely stood and stared, still trying to visually identify the approaching line of hunters.

  Long Elk kneed his horse forward, lance at ready, and the other hunters followed quickly. In the space of a few heartbeats the buffalo herd was running wildly, with the riders gaining rapidly.

  Eagle Woman clutched her short bow and guided the horse forward with her knees, searching for a target. The gray mare, understanding the purpose of the exercise, pressed after the retreating buffalo, her ears flattened against her neck. They moved alongside a fat young cow, and the girl dropped the rein to the mare’s neck, freeing both hands to shoot. She fitted an arrow to the string and pulled the bow to full draw, her eye on the soft flank just behind the rib cage. The bow twanged, and the feathered shaft, ranging forward into the chest, all but disappeared into the body of the running cow. The animal stumbled, and the horse and rider swept past.

  Eagle Woman glanced to her right to see Long Walker make a well-aimed lance thrust at a large cow. She looked aside to find another target of her own. A yearling bull blundered past, and the girl’s arrow again sought vital structures. The animal fell, bloody froth spewing from the nostrils, and the girl rode on.

  An older bull snorted and threatened with a toss of his massive head as he brushed past. Eagle Woman refrained from loosing her arrow. The destructive might of a wounded bull was to be respected and avoided if possible. Besides, the girl told herself, the meat would be better on a fat young cow.

  She called a warning to Long Walker and pointed to the aggressive herd bull. He reined aside and waved his. thanks as the huge animal thundered past. A moment later Eagle Woman lost sight of her friend in the dust and confusion.

  The herd was thinning now, the thunder of their myriad hooves fading into the distance. Eagle Woman glanced around to see the extent of the hunt’s success. The short new grass of the meadow was strewn with dark bodies, some still moving or kicking feebly. Mounted hunters moved among the fallen buffalo, administering a final blow here and there. A thin haze of dust hung heavily over the scene.

  The butchering party was straggli
ng over the distant hill, and Eagle Woman turned to point out her kills to the members of her family. She wondered if she would be expected to help with the butchering, and the thought struck her as amusing. It had not occurred to her until now to wonder if she should perform the duties of both the hunter and the woman. Probably, she decided. It would do no harm and would give the others a good feeling.

  A stray yearling cow came blundering up out of a rocky draw, panicky at being separated from the herd. The animal made a dash for open prairie, its route to pass close to Eagle Woman’s position. The gray horse was instantly in pursuit, nearly unseating the rider.

  Eagle Woman was still excited from the chase. The prospect of returning to the drudgery of butchering was not nearly so appealing as that of continuing the hunt. She leaned forward, fitting an arrow as she rode.

  The cow doubled back, quick and evasive. This, the girl realized, was probably the reason for the animal’s escape from the first onslaught. She reined the horse around and started pursuit again.

  Other hunters, returning toward the area of the main kill, stopped to watch the chase. The sound of their hoots and laughter carried across the meadow, penetrating even the totally occupied thoughts of Eagle Woman.

  It was a question, at the moment, whether embarrassment or anger was her uppermost emotion. She missed another run at her quarry, and a wave of laughter echoed from the spectators.

  The girl was furious. There would be many warriors, she knew, who would delight in her failure. It would be only right, they would say smugly, that a woman who aspired to hunter and warrior status should be proved inept and incapable.

  The cow dodged again, and the frustrated horse pivoted on its heels to pursue. Again Eagle Woman was almost unseated, but she held tightly with her knees. The inside of her thighs ached at the groin from the constant muscular strain.

  Fiercely the girl calmed herself to reason how to end the ludicrous scene. If the animal would only run straight away and allow her to pursue! But it had learned quickly that escape was effected by running straight, then turning back as the horse and rider approached.

  The buffalo now stood still, facing the girl on the gray horse. The front legs were spread wide, sweating sides heaving from exertion. How simple it would be, thought Eagle Woman, if some of the other hunters would help her, would turn the running cow back for her. That would have been customary in the hunt. This, though, was a special circumstance. She knew she could expect no help. She must devise a means of success or be laughed at forever.

  On the last turn the girl had noticed that the running buffalo usually feinted with a toss of the head and turned in the opposite direction. Perhaps she could take advantage of that fact. If she had a warning, even the space of a heartbeat, there might be time to loose an arrow. She rode slowly forward, and the cow blinked suspiciously, then turned to run.

  The run was straight away, like previous sprints. Eagle Woman held tightly with her knees and let the finely trained horse approach on the animal’s right side. She watched carefully for the telltale warning.

  The signal came—the cow tossed her head left, then turned sharply across in front of the charging horse. Eagle Woman was already drawing her bow.

  It was a difficult shot, impossible, almost. The girl concentrated on placing her arrow precisely as the brown blur of the moving form darted past. At the same time the horse had begun to drop to its haunches in a sliding pivot. Momentum carried the rider forward, over the horse’s head, to crash heavily to the ground. Men rushed forward. The cow lay kicking, but the other form on the grass was still.

  Slowly Eagle Woman began to move. Long Walker was first to reach her, cradling her head in his lap. A swelling purple bruise above the girl’s left eye testified to the force of her fall. Dully she smiled at the young man.

  Another hunter rode up and dismounted. “Well,” he commented, “at least she made her kill!”

  Long Walker had reached the height of his tension for the morning. He looked up indignantly at the speaker. “Stupid one!” he shouted. “This is her third kill! Did you make three kills today?”

  5

  It was thought by some that Eagle Woman, after her close encounter in the hunt, would not pursue the goal of becoming a member of a warrior society. Even though her three buffalo kills were admired, talked about, and praised, no one would have thought less of her had she let the matter drop. There were many who expected her to do so, and that would have been the end of it.

  Long Walker knew better. He had helped the staggering girl back to her horse and assisted her in remounting. His heart was heavy. He had tried his utmost to avoid any action which would encourage this headstrong woman to pursue her ridiculous goal. The damage had been done, he realized, when he had laughed at her.

  Now others had laughed at her, and she would never back down. Even though she had made three kills, more than anyone except Standing Bird, she would still feel the need to push ahead, to prove herself.

  Long Walker viewed all this with a certain amount of mixed feeling. He must admit, he had been thrilled with pride when he watched Eagle Woman skillfully drop the first two buffalo. He had been so busy admiring her dexterity, in fact, that he had made only one kill.

  Actually he had not realized the true depth of his feeling until he saw her fall from the horse. As he lifted the limp form from the grass, full recognition of his feelings had swept over him. He felt close to this person as a friend, a rival, a competitor, yes, but there was the other hunger. He longed to hold her in his arms, as a man holds the woman he loves, to protect and comfort.

  Long Walker had been able to hold the girl so for only a moment before she revived enough to resent it if he had continued. He had only the memory of the girl’s body against him. The feeling was of soft and yielding curves, at the same time firm and muscular in total sensation. He had longed to continue to hold her, to minister to her injuries, and to tell her how much he admired her accomplishment in the hunt.

  But he dared not. He wished not even to hint that he approved of this feat, because in truth he did not. He wished that Eagle Woman would behave more like a woman. Then he would know how he wished to respond. As things were, Long Walker began to feel that he should avoid contact with the girl. Any chance remark or action might drive them further apart, and he wished to avoid this at all cost.

  The Elk-dog Society would be meeting a few suns later for one of the usual ceremonials. The Moon of Greening would progress to the Grass-growing Moon, and such a progression was traditionally observed by the warrior societies.

  At any of these celebrations young warriors who had proven themselves in the hunt could request admission to the societies. It was at this time, Long Walker knew, that Eagle Woman would make her application. He had no doubt that she would be accepted, for the entire band admired her courage in the hunt.

  It was the next step that the young man dreaded. The girl would be accepted as a provisional member, ready to undertake the vision quest. That in itself would be dangerous enough, but in proper order of events she would next be expected to participate in a major war party.

  Of course she could refuse any of the steps and remain a lesser member of the warrior society. Long Walker knew her better than that. To do so would carry with it the implication of cowardice. Eagle Woman could never tolerate that. In fact, the young man knew, as she aspired to membership in the warrior society, striving for man things, she would require of herself that she not only equal, but better the efforts of the young men. It had been so in the buffalo hunt.

  If there were only some way, Long Walker pondered, to stop her. His dilemma was that if he attempted to convince the girl, she would overreact in anger and be that much more difficult to deal with. If, on the other hand, he said nothing, he felt certain that Eagle Woman would begin the steps to full warrior status.

  Aiee, what could be done? Discreetly he inquired as to the rules and customs involved. He sought out Standing Bird, leader of the Elk-dog Society, and explained h
is problem. The older man was sympathetic, carefully concealing his mild amusement over the situation.

  “Yes, my son,” he agreed, “it is a problem.”

  Under ordinary circumstances there would be no question as to the admission of qualified applicants. Their acceptance was a mere formality unless the applicant’s qualifications were in doubt. In the case of Eagle Woman there would be no question. Her three kills were an outstanding record for a first hunt, far better than that of most.

  “There is no doubt she is eligible,” Standing Bird continued. “She must be allowed to apply if she wishes.”

  “But, Uncle, there must be some way to stop her.” Walker was almost pleading now.

  Standing Bird shook his head. “No, I think not.”

  There was a long moment of silence, and the younger man started to turn away in dejection.

  “Unless, of course,” Standing Bird added with an amused smile, “you wish to use the Challenge.”

  Long Walker whirled to face his leader again. “The Challenge?”

  “Yes. Any member of the Elk-dog Society may challenge the admission.”

  “What happens then?”

  “A contest. The challenger must be able to prove the newcomer unfit.”

  Long Walker was becoming more interested. “And how is this done, Uncle?”

  The older man was ready to regret having mentioned this possibility. Walker was serious in his wish to stop the girl.

  “They compete with weapons, skill with Elk-dogs, anything.” He finished with a vague wave of the hand, half hoping the young man would forget the whole thing.

  “Who chooses the events?”

  “The challenger first, then the new warrior, until one is clearly the winner.”

  Standing Bird was sorry he had even mentioned the possibility of the Challenge. It was used seldom, and usually only for spite. It could only lead to bad feelings and a potential split in the Elk-dog Society, perhaps in the band itself.