by Karen Kay
They had tread well into the Indian camp before Kristina became aware of the smell of fire burning and of meat roasting. The Indians had pitched a small, skin-covered lodge near a stream which ran its course through this stretch of prairie. Their unusual belongings lay scattered all around, and Kristina felt, oddly as if she had stepped into another world. Around the lodge and near the stream were cottonwood trees, obscuring the dwelling from view. The fire was centered in the clearing and beside it sat Tahiska’s two companions, who spared but a brief glance at the women. One of them muttered, the other shook his head, and both redirected their attention back to their labors.
Kristina glanced around the camp, noting that the elk had already been slaughtered, gutted, and skinned. She wondered idly if it was elk meat roasting.
Tahiska motioned to them to sit, indicating the ground next to him, and with as much grace as possible, both women complied.
He had long been seated himself and was preoccupied with unstringing his bow when the two women at last made themselves comfortable.
“Toniktuka hwo?” He glanced at them briefly, then signed to Kristina, “How are you? Have you recovered from the accident?”
“I’m doing well, thank you,” Kristina gestured and he nodded.
The silence that ensued was only broken now and then by a spark flying from the fire. Julia began to fidget nervously, prompting one of the other Indians to make a comment; all three laughed and then again the silence fell. Tahiska didn’t bother to sign, and Kristina assumed the Indians were speaking about her and Julia.
Kristina boldly queried Tahiska about it.
Tahiska laughed, shook his head, but motioned back, “He says you look as frightened as jack rabbits.” He paused, then asked. “Do you fear us?”
“No,” she said, signing. “But we are uncomfortable. We did not know that you were still here. If my father knew you were camped nearby, we would not be allowed outside the fort. I think we had best leave to get back. The sun will soon leave the sky and we must be home before then.”
He nodded in understanding, then placing his bow and quiver aside, rose fluidly to his feet.
“Come,” he motioned, “I wish to show you something.”
Kristina hesitated only a moment, and looking around, arose as gracefully as possible and with a quick word to Julia, trailed after the Indian toward the stream.
Julia watched her friend leave, and turning her head back in the direction of the fire, glanced hesitantly at the remaining two Indians. Her gaze fixed on the knives they were using to skin the small game. She shivered, then with a deep sigh, she settled her hands in her lap and prepared to wait. She could only hope that Kristina was right. Personally, she didn’t feel safe at all.
Kristina followed Tahiska toward the stream and around a swell of land until they were out of sight of the others.
Pausing, he pivoted around to face Kristina. But she wasn’t prepared to match his quickness of foot and rushed straight into him, causing his arms to enfold her, steadying her. He seemed unwilling to release her and Kristina thought she might die from the pleasure of it.
Her heart was racing so fast she was certain he could hear it; she was trembling so, she knew he could feel it. When she raised her eyes to his, the intensity she saw there caused a knot in her stomach. His hand lifted from her waist to caress her neck, his fingers firmly held against her pulse there. She shut her eyes against the exquisite feeling until he took her hand and stretching it flat against his breast, invited her to feel what she was doing to him. His heart raced as quickly as hers, and when she again stared up at him, he smiled.
It was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever done for her and she wanted to stay like this forever.
Her hand lay flat against his chest. She shifted it, excited by the feel of his skin beneath her fingertips. Her hand burned with the contact and she had the pleasure of hearing him groan before he stifled its movement against him.
The fingers he’d held at her neck brushed up against her cheeks, her nose, her eyes. He felt her every feature as though he were a blind man, all the while his head descended closer and closer till his cheek brushed hers.
Kristina was amazed at the smoothness of his face, completely without beard.
She wanted more. She longed for his kiss. Didn’t Indians kiss? His lips were so close, she couldn’t stop herself.
She initiated the contact and touched her lips to his. Her overture had been tentative, shy even, and Tahiska, responding, finished it for her. His lips nibbled at hers, his tongue nipped in and out, his breath filled her till she thought he might be breathing for her. She could hardly bear the sensuality of it. She wanted more. Her tongue met his each time he thrust within her mouth and she moaned, forcing herself against him until at last he slanted his mouth over hers, taking the sweet nectar she offered.
Kristina’s arms reached around his neck, her fingers combing through his long hair, her hands dropping to caress his bare back. She still wanted more and leaned against him. His arousal was evident and Kristina felt a wild urge to know him more intimately.
His hands rubbed her back through the material of her dress. When he brought one around to smooth over her breast, Kristina thought she would melt. She arched her back, inviting him to do more and brought her hips in closer to his, her hands on his waist.
His breathing was ragged when he dragged his lips from hers. He set her slightly from him and rested his forehead against hers. And though his hands continued to caress her, his breathing became more even.
Kristina gradually drifted back to earth, and when her breathing, also, at last slowed, the realization of what she had done set in.
What must he think of her?
A cry welled up inside her, but she stifled it. Instead she straightened away, backing up until at least a foot separated them. Raising her eyes to his, she saw that his were sill glimmering with passion.
A deep longing swept through her, but before she could fall victim to it again, she moaned and spinning around, fled back toward the camp.
Tahiska watched her go, feeling the deep ache inside, yet unwilling to fulfill it. For this long week, he had thought of nothing but her. Revenge, war, the two murderers—these things no longer consumed his thoughts. It was only Kristina. Sweet, lovely Kristina. He thought of their passion. It was good. But she was innocent. She was also good medicine and he would not disgrace her. Besides, Tahiska was pure Indian. He was a patient man.
Parties at the fort were lighthearted events. The whole fort closed down and everyone was invited: Indians, trappers, traders, settlers, and soldiers alike. These occasions were characterized by an abundance of food, good music, lots of laughter, and an ample supply of liquor for anyone who wished to indulge.
This party was no exception. Given in celebration of a wedding between a local trapper and an Indian maid, all at the fort were enjoying the function as a sort of holiday.
Because the garrison closed its gates at sundown during the summer months, the wedding vows were taken midmorning, and by noon the women were serving the wedding dinner while the men hitched up a buggy and rolled out the platform for the band. Soon the celebrating and dancing would begin.
All shops and trading centers were closed, all soldiers except a skeleton crew were given liberty, and the fort bustled with the shouts of fun and laughter.
It was into this scene that Tahiska and his friends entered the fort. They were not made to state their business, nor did anyone meet them to divest them of their weapons. With the gates wide open, they slipped in, each carrying a handful of furs, and each armed with several weapons of his trade.
Unlike the few previous times they had visited the white man’s fort, no one paid the three Indians any attention today. Tahiska had necessarily caused their trips to the fort to be few over these last several weeks. He did not wish too much contact with these people. He found many of the officers offensive, the traders dirty and unkempt, and the soldiers antagonistic. All seemed to ad
opt an attitude of superiority which Tahiska failed to understand. The white man was a notorious liar and braggart. No, from his first several visits, Tahiska had ascertained all the information he required. He knew that the two men he sought were not now in residence; he had sized up the army as opponents, searching out their weak points; and he had compared the trade, seeing it as generally fairer but not so much so that the long trip for his tribe would be justified.
He had no reason, really, to maintain relations with the fort. An occasional trade, a sporadic trip to determine whether the trade wagon had arrived, these were the only reasons for the Indian to come into the fort. But Tahiska’s visit today was touched by none of these. Today he had made an exception. He wished to see Kristina. This was his only motive.
The white woman brought him pleasure, and not just physical. She amused him; she fascinated him. He yearned for her company, her conversation, her charm. He no longer tried to keep her from his thoughts, and he found his mind playing and replaying scenes of her—in the colonel’s office, at the piano, at his camp, by the stream. Indeed, the white woman was never far from him in thought.
The few times he had appeared at the fort since their meeting upon the plains, Kristina had practically burst with emotion, her gladness at seeing him undisguised. And this Tahiska didn’t understand. It was not something he expected in a maiden, though secretly he had cherished her happiness.
Perhaps this was why she was so much in his thoughts. Perhaps when he thought of her he was only trying to understand her spontaneity, her unwillingness to disguise what she felt. She so often did the unexpected.
Tahiska smiled, realizing the futility of his thoughts. How did one make sense of the wind, the rain, all the various moods of Mother Earth? They simply were; one dealt with them.
And so it was with Kristina. Like a sudden cloud burst, he would deal with her.
The fact that she was white, that she came from another culture did not bother him, although he had noted that many white men based their judgments solely on color of skin. He had often wondered about this. Did the white man not know that race meant little? That what was really important came from within, that true worth was measured by one’s regard for others and by one’s unselfish generosity towards others?
Tahiska was no fool. He could see that most whites exercised condescension when dealing with his people. But Kristina did not do this. She was different. Not only fair of face and of figure, she could see beyond such practices, beyond such prejudices. Amongst all men there were good and bad. Race, color of skin meant little. He knew it. Kristina knew it.
Yes, Kristina was truly good medicine.
Filled with the warmth of this realization, Tahiska smiled.
Kristina loved weddings. It wasn’t often that they had an opportunity to witness one since most of the people in this country preferred a simple ceremony. But today was special, and she was involved in the many preparations for the celebration.
She gaily helped out with serving the noon meal, but she glanced often on the fort’s entry. She yearned to see Tahiska. She wanted to include him in the fort’s activities. She didn’t even attempt to stop thinking of him. He was in her thoughts constantly and she found herself watching for him each day. It was funny. He enlivened her whole world. Was it her or was the dew on the grass each morning a little brighter, the sun a little warmer, her friends a little cheerier? Since she had met Tahiska, she found herself smiling more often and humming silly tunes as she performed the drudgery of her daily chores.
Yet, she also worried. Nanny hadn’t been certain that the young Kristina would find happiness among the Indians, only that her destiny belonged there. He was Indian. She was white. She knew of no one who would sanction a relationship between them, and yet she yearned for him in ways she would never mention to anyone. And she took delight in such simple pleasures as a mere glimpse of him.
Kristina glanced up to find a young child staring at her curiously. She smiled, then asked, “I’m sorry. Did you say something to me?”
“Could I have some water, please? Is there a parade or something about to come through the gates?”
“No.” Kristina filled the glass set before her, grinning good-naturedly at the child. “I was only looking for someone.”
The child turned her face to the entry, as well, her chubby hand shielding her eyes. “Look,” she said, her voice low and in a whisper that only Kristina could hear. “Indians.”
Kristina followed the child’s line of vision. Tahiska and his friends stood tall and proud at the fort’s entry. Kristina feasted her eyes upon him, hoping that she would be on the receiving end of his charm today. She could not remember ever being so happy.
“Yes,” Kristina acknowledged to the child and smiled happily. “Indians.”
At first, Kristina had been frightened to come face to face with what she could only call her vision. But now she had become used to it, managing to fit this bit of knowledge into her life as easily as she might a new dress. She could only hope that he somehow returned her feelings. If he did, he was a master of disguising it. She never saw reaction from him when he was about the fort. As a matter of fact, she couldn’t remember that the Indians registered any emotion when at the fort—ever. Perhaps if they were to come more often? He and his friends rarely made visits.
True to his word, while in the fort, Tahiska acknowledged only her translations. Kristina longed to speak to him of many things, yet when the Indians came in to trade, Kristina’s father always attached himself to their party. And Kristina found, to her dissatisfaction, that she was never alone with Tahiska. So all the things she wished to say were left unstated.
She also considered it odd that although he was here to trade, he seldom came in. Since his first visit three weeks ago, his calls upon them numbered less than a handful. This was puzzling to her since she had observed that most Indians, when trading, hung about the fort day after day and only retired at the insistence of their chiefs.
But Tahiska was unlike any of the other Indians she knew. He was wild; he was free; he kept council with himself, and he appeared oddly innocent for so wise a young man. He seemed to shun the ways of the white man and didn’t appear inclined to imitate his white brethren in any way.
Kristina reined in her thoughts. She found it odd that merely looking upon the Indian should throw her into such a state. Scolding herself, she took stock of where she was, and looking around, threw herself into serving the noonday dinner.
He wore the deerskin leggings, moccasins, and breechcloth, as well as a curious article around his neck. Made of bones and porcupine quills and colored white and red and ornamented with leather, it hung down over his chest. It looked to Kristina like a breastplate. Around his arm was a strip of rawhide cured till it was practically white and decorated with beads. In his hair and hanging down his back was the lone eagle feather. He looked magnificent, and to Kristina, who was dishing up dinner smorgasbord style, he provided a welcome distraction.
Julia was standing next to her. She at once marked her friend’s preoccupation. Glancing once at the Indian and then at Kristina, she sighed. “Do you expect me to sanction this flirtation between the two of you?”
“What?”
Julia expelled her breath in a whisper. “I’ll take over here,” she stated. She took possession of Kristina’s serving spoon. “Your pa is nowhere around. I think you could have a few moments alone with your friend. Invite him to eat with us.” Julia untied Kristina’s apron. “You have every right to approach him. The colonel assigned you as his interpreter. Go on. He already knows you’re here. I think that graceful strut you see is for your benefit alone.”
Kristina cast a questioning glance at her friend. “You approve?”
Julia sighed. “No, not really. I can understand your preoccupation, although I have no wish for their company. A safe distance is what I desire.” She helped Kristina off with the apron and watched as her friend folded the article.
Kristina smoo
thed her hair, then her dress. “Do I look presentable?”
“You look wonderful. But what does it matter? They’re only Indian. Oh, here, take them some food.”
Kristina accepted the tray from Julia. She cast her friend a grateful smile and dashed away.
“Toniktuka hwo?” Kristina queried as she approached the Indians.
All three extended a greeting to her.
“Tan yan waun, na nis?” Tahiska responded, then signed, “We are well.” He watched as Kristina drew near, and although he did not smile, admiration gleamed brightly in his glance. His eye had certainly adjusted to her paleness, for he found her beauty growing with each new acquaintance.
She wore a soft yellow dress that caught those same highlights in her hair. And though he did not understand the purpose of her dress, which tore easily, constricted, and did not breathe, he did admit that on her, it was good.
“I’m glad to see you,” she declared in English.
Silence stretched between them. Kristina felt uncomfortable. All three Indians stared at her. No attempt was made to talk or communicate in any way; they simply surveyed her with a steady, unwavering glance. And with the tray of food in her hands, she was unable to convey any of the meaning of her words. “Would you like some food?” She nodded toward the tray.
None of the Indians appeared to understand her.
“Food,” Kristina again inclined her head, but there was no comprehension to be read on the Indians’ faces. With a sigh of exasperation, Kristina forced the food tray toward Tahiska, shoving it at him until he was forced to take it from her.
Dumbfounded, Tahiska looked first to Wahtapah and then to Neeheeowee. Both simply shrugged and appeared as puzzled as he.
With her hands finally freed, Kristina regained her composure.
“We feast today. Two amongst us have been married. I am inviting you to eat with us. This food is for you.”