Savage Ecstasy

by Janelle Taylor

  She jumped at the ominous tone of the command. She instantly met his gaze, but there was no change in his facial expression. She was sure she had felt vibrations in his chest, but it was as if he hadn’t moved or spoken at al. She looked confused for a few moments, then decided her tension was playing tricks on her ears. He certainly didn’t appear to want to speak with her again, if he had done so before. “Oh, wel…”

  She put the cloth back into the water and picked up the salve. She began slowly to smear it onto the red, raw welts. Again, the deep, icy command seemed to fil the room, “Hiya!”

  She stared at him in bewilderment. Was he teling her to stop or what? She asked, “Did I hurt you? Did you want to tel me something? I do not understand your words.”

  She held up the balm and said, “Medicine … it wil make the welts heal and ease the pain. How can I explain medicine in sign language? Can you understand anything I say?” She answered her own question, “I guess not. Even if you could, you would probably be suspicious of people who beat you and then try to help you. You must hate and mistrust al of us. How could they have been so cruel to you? It was wrong for them to do this… wrong…”

  Realizing the futility of trying to explain further, she picked up Realizing the futility of trying to explain further, she picked up the stew. Placing her other hand under his head to raise it up a little, she started to feed him. Halfway to his mouth, he violently jerked his head and body away. So sudden and unexpected were his actions, Alisha spiled the stew in the spoon onto his chest and the stew in the bowl to the ground. Startled, she froze and stared at him. Slowly, comprehension came to her and she nodded understanding.

  She picked up the bowl and spooned the spiled meat and vegetables into it. She took the cloth and wiped the stew from his chest, noticing old scars from some past injury as she worked. He made no move this time as she spread more balm on his wounds. He refused to show pain or weakness before this woman. Alisha sat for a short time studying him. “I realize the anger and humiliation you must be feeling under these circumstances, but there is nothing more I can do for you. I am only one against many. They won’t listen to me. My uncle wil not let them kil you. He can’t …”

  She moved everything away, knowing he could not refuse food indefinitely. He would come to know she meant only to help him and would relent. Before leaving, she knelt beside him with a canteen of water and inquired, “Water?”

  He lifted his gaze to meet hers and glared at her. The look in his eyes which bored into hers made her heart pound wildly. She halted the canteen in mid-air as chils ran up and down her body. It felt as if he reached into her very soul with icy fingers of hate and gripped her heart in its spel. She shivered at the intensity of it, but could not pul her gaze from his.

  She whispered, “I’ve never seen such anger and hatred in a person’s eyes or face before. How can you possibly feel these person’s eyes or face before. How can you possibly feel these things so deeply? Who taught you to hate with such intensity?” Her face and voice softened as she added, “And yet, you’re stil the handsomest man I’ve ever seen. Never have I seen a man anywhere to compare with you…”

  As her eyes searched his features, that heady, intoxicating feeling stirred and played on her senses once more. She longed to reach out her hand and touch him, to comfort him and his hurts. She was confused by this magnetic attraction to a total stranger. Her mind was troubled and her heart saddened by the way he had been treated. Her hand begged to touch and smooth that knitted brow and caress the tautness from his jaw. Her eyes kept straying to his lips. She found herself wanting to bend over and place a kiss upon them.

  Gray Eagle watched her with the feeling he was a prize of war being examined. As she raised her gaże to meet his curious one, her look betrayed her reasons for her intense scrutiny. Her color heightened as she tore her gaze away in embarrassment. She did not understand the emotions and feelings he was awakening in her. She missed the knowing smile that passed his eyes and mouth. A thunderous voice broke into her jumbled thoughts, “You finished in there yet? Ya been in there long enough!”

  At the sound of Ben’s grating voice, she instantly turned to the doorway. When her attention returned to the brave, he was staring blankly at the ceiling with vacant, empty eyes.

  She arose from her kneeling position and gathered the items she had brought with her. Ben was scowling at her and fussing to himself, caling the Indian names and trying to shame her for her interest and concern in him. He grabbed her elbow so roughly that she dropped everything.

  she dropped everything.

  “You ain’t listening, Miss Alisha! I said I wants you to keep your hands off his heathern body! If given half a chance, he’d attack you and scalp you. These people out here are cold-blooded savages. We haveta get them before they get us. You ain’t seen the things them red bas … them Injuns do to white folks. Best you stay as far away from them as possible. They’re devils, that’s al they are. People like that don’t deserve to live and multiply!”

  She had been momentarily stunned by his verbal assault on her and the Indians. She jerked her arm free, crying out more harshly than she intended, “It’s attitudes and treatments like those, Ben, that feed hate and mistrust and keep them growing and festering. Why must you hate so ruthlessly? Why can’t you try to get to know them and make peace? Surely they want peace and friendship as much as we do. He’s only a man like yourself and the others. This was their land before we came. Can’t you see that we are just as different and savage to them as they are to us? Have you ever considered they do the terrible things you spoke of because of the way they are treated by us, like he was today? How can you expect a man to trust or like someone who beats him or looks down on his way of life? I bet you they believe we are stealing their lands. Surely they wouldn’t resent our being here if we made truce with them.”

  Ben shook his head in disagreement. “You can’t make bargains with the Devil, Miss Alisha. You can’t make truce with savages who don’t know the meaning of the words truce and honor. They ain’t men! They’re like animals and that’s how we got to treat ‘em. They live like wild animals, running around half naked, kiling and scalping people, praying to rocks and trees and making slaves outa decent, honest folk. They’re good-for-nothing, lazy devils. I hear they make the women do al the work while they lay devils. I hear they make the women do al the work while they lay around smoking or hunting whites to kil and scalp. What kind of life and people live like that? Can’t tel me they’s civilized people.”

  “Ben, what am I going to do with you? Don’t you know al civilizations and people are different from each other? Look at him, Ben, and tel me that he has the body and muscles of a lazy man who lays around smoking al day. I’m sorry if it angers you and the others but I can’t hate someone simply because you al tel me I must. This argument is ridiculous anyway. Neither of us is going to change our minds. Besides, I didn’t help him. He wouldn’t let me.”

  Grinning broadly, Ben replied, “Fool! He’s too stupid to know you was trying to help him. I told you they didn’t want to be friends with us. I didn’t refuse help and food from you when me wife was ailing. I stil remember those many days and nights you brought my family food and did extra chores. You knows I’l never forget whatcha did for us. Yore like an angel, Miss Alisha. If’n you ever needs help, Γl be there,” he vowed chivalrously.

  She laughed and questioned in exasperation, “Why can’t you be just as understanding about other things, Ben? You know I didn’t help you for any thanks. I did it because you needed help and I was there to give it. I didn’t help the brave because his pride and mistrust wouldn’t alow him to accept it from his enemy. Stil, kind sir, thank you for your bold flattery and gesture.” She smiled at him and knelt to gather the dropped items. She and Ben joked and laughed as they left the smokehouse together.

  Neither of them noticed the watchful, keen eyes of the brave who had taken in the entire exchange. Gray Eagle remained motionless until they were gone. For
the seemingly hundreth time, he strained against the bonds. He knew by now the bonds were too tight to stretch or break. He would have to think of some other plan tight to stretch or break. He would have to think of some other plan of escape. He cursed his carelessness which caused his capture. Nettled by his subjugation, he admonished himself angrily. He thought, Wanmdi Hota, son of Chief Suntokca Ki-in-yangki-yapi of the great Oglala tribe and their next leader, a kaskapi of these wasichus, these sunka skas. It is unforgivable and shameful that I, of al warriors, should have been taken prisoner. I am yuonihansni… I was not alert and on guard as I passed so close to their camp. Soon I wil be free and they wil pay for their treatment of me and for alowing the wahmunkesa to escape. I wil have vengeance for myself and my father, if he stil lives. When my foot became entangled in the snare, there was not enough time to cut myself free before the wasichu reached me. It would have been foolish to fight so many armed with the mazawakan. The time for escape and vengeance wil come as surely as hunwi appears in the night sky. I have heard how the wasichu have kiled and taken the lands of other tribes to the East where Wi awakens and begins his day. They change and destroy the face of Makakin. They bring mniwakan to steal our minds and weaken our bodies and courage. They are lower than our worst enemies, the Ojibwa. What do they know of our ways? They do not accept or understand what they fear and hate. They look on us in shame. They put up wooden guards to keep land for themselves. They steal what is ours and cal it theirs. They kil the game Wakantanka provides for his children. They kil in sport and waste. They bring death and evil to our land and people.

  Already some venture to our sacred lands in the Paha Sapa where the Thunderbirds live and the medicines grow. They search for the shiny, yelow rock which they lust and kil for. We hear and see them coming… more and more… closer and closer… they see them coming… more and more… closer and closer… they must be stopped…

  The wasichu do not love and honor the land as we do. It was not given to them, but to us, by the Great Spirit. When the harmony between the land and man is broken or destroyed, the man cannot survive. They do not see that al creatures, men and things have a purpose in life and must be alowed to fulfil this purpose. They know nothing of the great circle of life. Wi and the Thunderbirds feed Makakin; Makakin feeds the game; the buffalo and land feeds the Oglala. Al must honor and respect this and alow no man to break this circle. How can they look at the animals and lands and not see the work of the Great Spirit? How dare they destroy and take what He had given to us!

  They speak evil of our women and warriors. My people know and accept their tasks and place in our tribe. They are happier than the ista skas who fight and steal amongst themselves. Their thoughts and ways are strange to us. They treat their families and friends cold and deal harshly with those who are different. They cal us the savages! They are fools…

  With thoughts of families and women, came thoughts of the strange ska wincinyanna. He scoffed, she must be touched in the head, crazy, as the wasichu say, to try to help me. And yet, there was no dul, childlike stare in her eyes or her face. She spoke very strangely … fool! Does she not know we can kil her and al her kind? Why did she stand up against her own people for me? Is this some kind of wasichu trick? I wil see and know more before I decide her fate. Even though her people like her, they did not like her trying to help me. She made them very angry with her, especialy the sunka ska caled Horace. He would have the girl for himself, but I can see she does not wish it so. Why should she care himself, but I can see she does not wish it so. Why should she care what happens to me? Why did she look at me that way? She is indeed strange and unlike the others. Stil, she is one of them …

  The harder he tried to convince himself she was mad, the more her soft innocence and beauty haunted him, teling him he was wrong. When he closed his eyes, he saw her face, soft and white with cheeks that went pink when he glared at her. He visualized her long hair as dark as his own which came to fiery light when the sunlight touched it. When she had stood before him this afternoon, she had only been chest high to his tal, lean body. He had been aware that the ful bloom of womanhood had not long since touched her. Her eyes and body tel me she has known no man, he thought. He could stil hear the musical tone of her voice or the trembling in it when she was afraid or unsure of herself.

  He recaled her large, expressive eyes the color of green grass in spring with yelow flecks, much like the treecat’s. He could stil picture how her feelings and emotions shone openly in them. He was confused at how she looked at him as a man, not as an Indian or enemy. Could it be that she was stil unlearned in the ways of men and life? Could it be she did not seek to trick the Indian with her gentleness? If so, she would be hurt far greater than al the others when the red men returned to slay them.

  If I truly see the winyan that lives beneath the white skin, Gray Eagle thought, then I wil take her for my own and keep her as my kaskapi. He grinned confidently at this last thought and decision. Surely, she wil prove to be a most valuable wayakayuha …

  Once again, he was glad he had forced the white schoolmarm he had captured years ago to teach him the wasichu tongue. She had foolishly believed he would use it to speak with her people for peace and friendship. He laughed sardonicaly as he recaled the peace and friendship. He laughed sardonicaly as he recaled the many times he had used it against them for spying and questioning captives. This was his weapon against their lies and deceit. He scoffed at how these wasichu had spoken so openly and freely around what they caled “that stupid Injun.” We wil see who is the stupid one and who is the sly fox.

  He knew there was no one who could give his guarded secret away to the wasichu. Al who learned of it were kiled instantly. This weapon was valuable only as long as it was unknown to his enemies. He would alow no man to use it against him or his people. He smiled a knowing, cynical smile as he vowed, they wil pay and pay greatly for their evil. He drifted off to a deep sleep, dreaming of the day he would be free.

  The dim glow of dawn’s light slowly pushed away the shadows of night as birds chirped loudly to herald her coming. Gray Eagle stretched as much as the bonds would alow, vainly trying to free himself from them again. Al morning, plans of escape were reasoned out and then dismissed. He concluded he must bide his time until the best opportunity came along. When it did, he would strike swiftly and deadly and be gone.

  It was as the day wore on into evening he realized he was very thirsty and hungry. Stubbornly, he admitted he must bring himself to accept food and water from the enemy to maintain his strength for escape. It would be easier to accept this help from the girl rather than from one of the men. They would humiliate the brave for accepting the food. Pride and anger flared in him and he knew he would accept help only from the girl. Never would he lower his honor to take help from those white dogs, even at the cost of his life or his freedom.

  or his freedom.

  Time passed on and sunset approached. The heat and air were barely tolerable in the smokehouse. Stil, no one came. He was restless to be free, to return to the cool forest and his tribe. By this time, they missed him and would no doubt at this very minute be tracking him. Even though he had hidden his trail from the whites, his lifelong friend and companion White Arrow would find it and folow him. He realized he might not have to humble himself to take food and water from his enemy, for it appeared they were ignoring him.

  He listened to the sounds of the night creatures and to the rustling of the leaves in the gentle breeze. He heard the hooting of the owl, the howling of the coyote and the wolf, the singing of the cicadas and the caling of the frogs and nightingales to their mates. His ears were sensitive to the sounds of the forest and nature. He could hear and sense things the common man did not. Fragrant odors from the settlers’ dinners floated in the air and touched his nostrils, causing him to recal his hunger. He listened to the muffled sounds from the nearby cabins as the people prepared to settle in for the night. Voices and laughter reached his alert ears and he cursed their freedom and happines
s while he lay there hungry, thirsty and a kaskapi. Resentment and fury bubbled up in him like a spring of hot water.

  Silence began to fil the night air. Did they forget his being there? Were they torturing him this way or did they simply not care to think about him at al? Would they just leave him here to die like some trapped animal? Even the Indian fed and gave water to his captives … nearly al were alowed to die like men, not like…. His sensitive ears detected footsteps nearby.

  Who came in secret with the night? An enemy to slay him? A Who came in secret with the night? An enemy to slay him? A friend to free him? His nose quickly told him it was not a koda. He waited to see who the foe was …

  The door silently and slowly opened. He watched as Alisha hastily looked behind her and stepped inside the smokehouse. She lit the lantern but was careful to keep the flame low. She closed the door quietly and looked hesitantly over at him. Her gaze flickered from him to the closed door several times in apprehension. He had the feeling she was defying orders to come there again. She carried some meat pressed between two hunks of bread and a canteen of water.

  Slowly, she walked toward him and knelt at his side. Her expression was one of confusion, guilt and fear. Her eyes bespoke inner turmoil. Knowing the time of the night and watching her tension, Gray Eagle was positive no one had permitted her to come to him this time. He studied her curiously.