“Because you are strong, Little Fire. You have dealt with evil and tragedy, yet prevailed. When the army comes, I want you to stay with the People for as long as needed. Keep your eyes down and your hair hidden.”
“This is my home. You are my people,” she began passionately and was immediately silenced by the single rise of the chief’s weathered hand.
“Those are your people, too. They will take you if they see your green eyes or red hair,” he cut off.
“This is my home and I will not leave it until you make me,” she argued and bit her lip. You did not argue with your father, adopted or otherwise. She saw his proud gaze quickly masked at the show of temper.
“You are part of the Tsa’lagi, the People… and part of their world. It is up to you to mix them, if you choose. I ask that the survivor in you teach the young ones your gift.”
“My gift was being taken in by a loving family.”
“Your gift is more than that and I believe you know it.”
Little Fire said nothing, just looked away. He had named her Little Fire for her temper when she had arrived bedraggled, exhausted and starved. She had stood up, screaming and intent on fighting her way out of a group. Between her hair color, her sunburn and diminutive size – he had dubbed her Little Fire immediately. Over the next several years, that moniker had stuck. While she had tried to fit in, there was a fighter inside of her. She refused to be bullied or treated differently from the others.
There was one time where Little Fire had talked back to one of the women after a hunting excursion. She had made a snide comment to her face, resulting in Little Fire tossing the fatty scrapings from deer hide onto her. When the woman struck her, Little Fire had flown into a blind rage, bringing her assailant to the ground at the chief’s feet. Both had instantly become meek, yet Little Fire did not look away or back down from him. Instead, she insisted that she will be treated like the others of the tribe and not like a rabid animal.
“Then act like the others,” he said simply. “All fight when pushed, it’s when you are pushed so hard that you discover what a person is made of.” While she expected the chief to reprimand her severely, he instead made the other woman apologize for striking her. It took every bit of Little Fire’s strength to keep from sticking her tongue out at the woman’s back. The chief’s words struck a nerve with her. Act like the others.
From that day forward, she acted like the other women. She tried desperately to be silent, obedient, gentile. She followed Hidden Doe’s routine and mimicked it. To Colleen, Hidden Doe was the epitome of what a proper Indian woman should be. Unfortunately, she felt like the antithesis of it. Her red hair, pale skin and confrontational temperament all were struggles to push down inside. But hide them, she did.
Chapter Three
May 1838
Weeks later, Colleen arose to a loud disturbance outside. A myriad of voices blended in confusion, anger and dismay were cutting through the air from all sides. She heard them but there was so much chaos, their sounds scattered. Rapid fire words were coming from different directions so fast in both languages, that it was indecipherable. English and Tsa’lagi chimed in, blended together.
The rhythmic beating that pounded in her head was not her heartbeat, rather the thumping of horses as they cantered into their wooded area. It was an incredible sight and reminded her of ants. When she had been young, the children of the village would stick a twig in an ant pile to see the massive swarm come spilling over the edge in anger. This looked to be the same. As the horses poured into their village, they went on and on for as far as the eye could see. There was no emotion in the soldiers’ pale faces. No anger, no hate, no offering of friendship.
These soldiers were dispassionate and cold. They were here to do a job and that was it. It was evident they had not one inkling of thought towards making this a kind, gentle move for the families that were being displaced. They were simply ordered here and following those instructions. The army intended to make the move swift.
“You there,” one man on horseback called out towards the chief, who stood stalwartly in the center of the chaos. The chief was incredible to see! He normally dressed as the others, but today? Today he stood in all his regal clothing. His hair was freshly braided and shined. It glowed like two black, twisted ropes. Atop his head, was a variety of feathers attached to a headdress. Beads dangled from his ears and neck proudly to show his wealth. He was dressed simply in buckskin, yet had a drape of cloth over his shoulders regardless of the early morning humidity. Chief Mighty Banner looked to be a force to be reckoned with in the wake of this new change.
“Welcome to my home,” he called out boldly, crossing his arms as he stood there. “I am Chief Mighty Banner.”
“I am General Winfield Scott,” the soldier began, and gave a slow, almost imperceptible nod. “I think we are going to have a long talk about the location of your home.”
“I know why you are here. All my people do.”
“Then you realize we are here to take you to a new setting for you to live.”
“I realize you are here to steal our lands and displace us.”
“So long as we both know what is going to happen very shortly,” the general admitted snidely. “You will have a few days to gather your things and prepare for your new surroundings.”
“Until then, my people will welcome your assistance…”
“I think you misunderstand why the United States Army is here,” General Scott interrupted scathingly, causing a hush around the chief from the People. Chief Mighty Banner’s proud face stood strong as he stared at the general who sat upon his horse.
“The United States Army,” he said, sweeping his arm towards his soldiers. “These soldiers, these men, are here to move you, not to help you move. You are on our land according to the treaty.”
“This is our land. The People’s land.”
“Not anymore,” he said with finality. He pulled his gun and pushed his hat up with the tip of his revolver, smiling. This movement had a ripple effect through the soldiers as they all drew their firearms, waiting. The people of the village were deadly silent, standing proudly and watching. Colleen’s eyes met Hidden Doe’s across the crowd. Her dark eyes looked to be shiny with unshed tears. She would not cry; neither of them would. It took every ounce of restraint to keep from yelling at the soldiers that had their guns trained on them all. Her adopted father, the chief, did not look away from the general’s cold eyes. The white man’s hatred of them was evident, yet their chief masked his own.
“Your land is a bit of a hike from here. I would pack lightly if I were you. Do you understand me?”
“I speak your language quite well,” the chief replied calmly and turned his back on the soldiers. He proudly walked away without reacting or commenting again. As he walked towards where Colleen stood. She said nothing, staring at the ground in disbelief. Entering the darkness of their home, she wasn’t sure how to start.
“Why do we not fight this,” she finally began.
“Did I not tell you change was coming? Did you not listen to your chief’s words?” he asked in English, causing her to flinch. “You were brought here into our home as our daughter to teach us your words, your ways. Our people have learned your words well and it was helpful today. The People understood their words and the hatred they expressed towards us. This is why you are here, remember?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Then remember your lessons well. Teach the others by example. Be strong, speak their words and be a survivor.”
“In a new home? A new land?”
“Yes. You have done this before and thrived. Do it again, Little Fire. Now, help the others pack. I do not know how long we truly have.”
The reality of his words, his wisdom struck her. He had known for years this was coming and played the long game. She was invited into their home, not as an orphaned child but for a secondary purpose: to teach the others. While she had known it all along, it didn’t really hit home unti
l now. She was white and not of the People. She was brought into their homes, their village, to serve as a teacher so that way when this day came they would all understand what was going on.
Silently, she bit back her thoughts and feelings. Getting to her feet, she stepped out into the sunlight. She would begin the task of helping the other women pack up their homes in preparation for the journey ahead. Her legs felt heavy as she walked slowly across the village to where the other women were crowded.
Glancing up, she saw several soldiers nearby as they sat on their horses watching silently. Quickly looking away, she felt her skin flush as she realized that one of them had a look of surprise on his handsome face as her eyes met his. Her green eyes hinted that she was a foreigner. She saw him start towards her, moving her quickly into action. Run! She hurried towards the others, away from the handsome soldier. Nervous, she uttered words she hadn’t heard in years… a Gaelic curse word that her da used to say.
“I dtigh diabhail!”
Colleen remained hidden for several days, tucked inside as they packed their things up. She was driven by instinct and memories from her childhood of their moves together as a family. Which also made her think of those days where she travelled alone. She remembered the hunger, the desperation, the fear of not knowing what was to become of her next. Tossing things left and right, she was gathering up necessities only. She carefully packed the knives, meager utensils and weapons as well as blankets that could keep them warm at night or be used for clothing.
There would be no need for great beaded works or carved ceremonial bowls. Instead, it would be what they could carry and what they would need. Carved items could be created again. Beaded necklaces and hair pieces could be replaced. Necessities would be of the utmost importance’s now.
If they left tonight, would they be all right? If they left in the morning or a week from now, that was what she was hoping for! The angry looks and confusion on the other women’s faces was hard to handle, causing her to work harder than ever before. When things would get tucked into the leather rolls of goods, Colleen found herself having to take a deep breath before asking if it was necessary for survival. They simply didn’t understand.
She did.
She had been alone for days in the woods before being found, with only a knife for protection. They would be travelling under guard and then abandoned in a land they didn’t know. Would there be water? Was it fruitful or a barren wasteland? They would need seeds, tools, weapons, shelter and other necessities.
“We must gather as much as possible, whether the food is ready or not.”
“What do you mean?”
“Pick what we can from the crops now. Do not wait.”
“We just planted not long ago. There will be nothing yet.”
“See if there is anything at all. If so, get it. You two,” she said pointing at the women that stood by, glaring at her. “Gather all the skins and fill them with as much water as possible. If there are no rivers or lakes nearby, we will need it.”
“I don’t have to do what you say.”
“Then get out,” Little Fire announced simply, getting to her feet. “I have travelled before long distances and I know the hardships that come. We will need every bit of help to get through this. So if you aren’t a willing member of this village… of the People, then get out. If you are one of us, then help us,” she said flatly and went back to her work.
“You are not of the People.”
Little Fire did not say a word. The woman was right. She was one of the others, yet chose to be here. “I am alive and wish to stay that way,” she said simply after some time. They stood there silently, then gathered up the skins and did as she ordered.
“You realize that she is incorrect,” Hidden Doe said softly. “You are one of us.”
“No, she is right in her point of view.”
“Little Fire…” she began, yet Colleen interrupted her. “No, she’s correct. If I did not have ash and bear grease in my hair, it would be a beacon for all to see. My eyes are green, my skin white. I am not of the People, but I am your sister. Whether or not I was born in this family or not. You are my people, by my choice.”
“We were destined to be sisters.”
“I believe so, too,” she said with a warm smile, hugging her. “Gvgeyu.”
“In English,” Hidden Doe reminded her.
“I love you, my sister.”
“I love you, too.”
Chapter Four
The People began their arduous trek two days later. They had been given time to gather things, yet Colleen prayed it would be enough. No one knew how far they would be travelling or where they were going. Only that they were leaving their homes and it was a “long walk” as the nasty general had put it. They had laden their horses with as much of their belongings as possible. They had also filled sacks that were strapped to their backs. It was heavy, hot, and exhausting to walk in a long thread of people. Little Fire was just glad that it seemed to be that once they got onto the path, it was a bit easier to traverse. The ground seemed to be trampled upon and the grass broken as if other animals, horses or people had walked this route before.
Each day, the Army would hand out rations to them. Small amounts of water, as well as a serving of cornbread and a turnip. At first, Little Fire thought it was a joke to be handed such small rations. The truth was, it was pathetic the amount of food they were given. She stared at the paltry turnip that was handed to her with great displeasure. No meat, no explanation. These were abysmal conditions. Perhaps when they had a chance to stop, they would be allowed to hunt for food.
Three days later, Little Fire found this was not to be the case. They had walked all day long and towards the evening, came across a great expanse of open ground. She saw deer off in the distance at the tree line and grinned at Hidden Doe. One of the braves must have seen the deer as well, because they watched as he pulled his bow with ease and stepped forward to take the shot.
A loud explosion caused both women to jump, clinging to one another. Wailing began as the brave dropped to the ground dead, a gaping wound at his back. The woman that had told her she wasn’t of the People, the same who had originally refused to take her orders, came rushing forward towards the fallen brave. She was yelling hateful things in their language towards the blond soldier with the smoking revolver who sat on horseback.
”Elowehi!” Little Fire yelled out to her, telling her to be quiet. She saw the soldier taking aim again towards the woman. At her words, he swung the gun her direction. She instantly quieted and shut her eyes, expecting to be shot on the spot. Hearing the gun go off again, she felt her knees weaken, expecting to feel a rush pain. Opening her eyes, she saw Hidden Doe’s horrified gaze and followed it.
They both lay dead together in the grasses. The precious water skins draped awkwardly over her bleeding back, just out of reach. Another woman stepped forward, thinking as she did, that they couldn’t afford to lose the water. As she stepped out of the path, they heard the click again and she instantly melded back into line.
“Anyone else?” the soldier yelled callously, causing another to ride over towards him. The second soldier’s dark head tipped towards the other one, whispering something. She realized it was the same man that had caught her gaze before in the village.
He was tall, with dark hair and an expression that chilled her to the bone. He looked like he could be cruel, if needed. The genuine look of surprise on his face had worried her. She had anticipated that he would say something about her green eyes, regardless of hiding her hair with soot.
“You,” the dark-haired soldier said, pointing directly at Little Fire. “Fetch the water. Your people might need it.”
“Can we hunt tonight?” she asked boldly, staring at the ground not meeting his eyes. He might have let her slip through once, she wouldn’t bet on it being twice.
“That will be taken care of. Just get the water.”
“Turnips again?” she muttered aloud under her breath.
“Water?” he reminded, chuckling. She saw him extend his long arm, putting a hand over the revolver. He pushed the trigger happy blond soldier’s arm away. He had eagerly been aiming at her looking for the next victim.
“Jones, let them get the water and try to not shoot our guests,” he ordered. “Let’s go!” The horses turned and galloped up the trail away from where she stood. That was all the incentive she needed.
Little Fire raced over towards the two bodies, her heart pounding as she heard him start up their proceedings again. She didn’t want to lose track of Hidden Doe or the others. Yanking the skins over Fierce Mother’s dark head, she felt sick as she heard the hollow thump of her head hitting his as it fell back down. They were gone. Pulling the skins over her own head and across her torso, she found she was crying silently at the waste of life regardless if the woman disliked her.
“Are you injured?” Hidden Doe asked her as she rejoined her place in the line.
“No. Sick to my stomach at their senseless deaths? Yes!” she whispered hotly. Little Fire tried not to think of the warmth of the straps or the blood now staining her dress. It couldn’t be helped if she was to gather the water skins and rejoin quickly. There was no time to clean it off nor did she want to waste the water if they needed it later on to live.
“Come, be strong.” Hidden Doe took Little Fire’s hand in hers, clenching it tightly. “It is almost dusk and we will be resting soon.”
They walked for quite a while longer. Little Fire’s legs ached in protest at the amount of walking they were doing. They travelled a long time, but didn’t seem to be getting very far at this pace. How long would this go on? When they stopped, she noticed that several others stayed on the pathway and sat in line. No one wanted to be the next one shot.
They were given their measly rations again, which included the wretched turnips that Little Fire hated. Sighing heavily, she took a bite out of the raw vegetable just to appease the hunger in her stomach. As she chewed, lost in thought, she stared at the line of trees in the distance that seemed so very far away. Those trees offered shade, protection, and food. There would be rabbits, deer and other creatures but it was just out of reach. She jumped at the furry body that dropped on the ground near her.
A Perfect Bride Page 3