She heard scratching outside the tepee just before the flap was flung aside.
“Are you going to sleep all day?” Muha ai-wa walked in and crossed her arms over her chest.
“I thought I might. You’re a hard one to rescue.” Mayme pushed herself up and stretched her back. She ran her fingers through hair that had grown past her shoulders. Later she’d divide it into two braids to keep cooler in the afternoon heat.
Mayme yawned. Muha ai-wa was obviously waiting for her. Besides, she had to pee anyway. She rose to her feet and stretched. She tested her ankle. Although it was still sore, she could bear weight on it. She followed Muha ai-wa out and kept her gaze to the ground while her eyes adjusted to the bright sun.
Giggling made Mayme look up. What appeared like the entire village stood in a semi-circle around Osh-Tisch’s tepee. Every person wore a smile and she heard several call out, “Pop-pank.”
Mayme looked at Muha ai-wa who stood next to Ponzo-bert.
“What is going on?”
Several people moved to the side to make way for Osh-Tisch to walk through. He held a rifle, her rifle, in his hand.
Mayme took a step backward in confusion and felt her heels against the tepee.
Osh-Tisch stopped in front of her. Their eyes met and held. He finally broke the silence. “We have waited a long time for this moment. You will now forever be known as Pop-pank.”
“It means jumping fish,” Muha ai-wa whispered and grinned at her.
The villagers nodded and repeated her name. “Pop-pank.”
“When I found you many moons ago, I took this from your saddle. I honor you by returning it.” Osh-Tisch handed the gun to her.
Mayme looked at him in amazement.
“Yaakki.” Osh-Tisch turned around and faced the direction he had come.
Once again, the people parted, but this time gave a wider path to a warrior who led Duster beside him. Duster pranced, shook her head, and snorted in defiance. She alternately pinned her ears and tried to grab his arm with her teeth.
Although Mayme had caught glimpses of Duster and Red from afar, she’d never been allowed to visit her horses. She assumed because they thought she might take that opportunity to escape. But here Duster was, saddled and bridled, and looking fat and sassy. She stood there with her mouth agape.
The warrior passed Duster’s reins to Osh-Tisch and joined the crowd.
“This horse is also yours. I honor you by returning her. She is with foal.”
Duster lunged and nipped Osh-Tisch on the shoulder. She walked forward and put her muzzle against Mayme’s chest and nickered.
Tears streaked down Mayme’s face. She wrapped her arms around Duster’s neck and squeezed. She didn’t dare ask about Red as it would be a sign of greed on her part.
“Osh-Tisch is pleased to be rid of her. She has bitten and kicked him more than once.” Muha ai-wa came to Mayme’s side.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Osh-Tisch is giving you your freedom.”
Mayme looked at Osh-Tisch and then back to Muha ai-wa. “You knew? That’s why you asked me that question while we picked cattails.”
“I only knew he would let you go. And I knew you would go.”
“But—” Mayme was speechless.
“You may go back to your people, Pop-pank,” Osh-Tisch said. “But the Shoshone want you to know, the Shoshone are now your people too.”
Mayme looked to Muha ai-wa for clarification.
“Osh-Tisch means that you are free to come and go as you like. But if you choose to stay away, he must accept that. But if you choose to stay or come back, he would be very much honored.”
Chapter Twenty-two
TWO DAYS LATER, Mayme sat astride Duster and waited as the tribe members filed past, each one patting her on the leg as they went by.
As expected, Muha ai-wa was the last in line.
“I will never forget you, Pop-pank. My friend. My sister.” Muha ai-wa lifted a beautifully beaded knife sheath up to her. Muha ai-wa’s knife was inside. “I give you this to remember me.”
Mayme slid off Duster and took Muha ai-wa in her arms and hugged her tightly. “I will always remember you, my friend, my sister.”
Muha ai-wa pulled back, releasing Mayme. “Go now. The sun is still low. You can put many miles under your horse’s hooves before it travels to the other side.” She turned abruptly and walked into the tepee.
Mayme looked around. It seemed the Shoshone hated goodbyes as they had all disappeared into their tepees. She put her foot in the stirrup and stepped up. She took one look, committing to memory the sights and smells and most of all, the acceptance she’d felt in this tribe.
She knew if she didn’t go now . . .
MAYME BATTLED WITH mixed emotions for two days. She thought about what she’d be returning to in the white man’s world: A society who hated the Indians despite ignorance of their ways. She travelled with a heavy heart and wondered why she wasn’t more excited about the life she’d be going back to.
She didn’t know if she wanted to continue working for the post. They had probably hired her replacement long ago anyway. Could she see herself working at the mercantile for the rest of her life? Would her heart and soul not yearn for the mountains? Would her ears not strain to hear the howl of the wolf? Would her flesh adjust to feeling the scratch of a wool blanket instead of the softness of a buffalo hide beneath her? Mayme looked down at her garments: beading decorated her shirt, leggings and moccasins made of the softest material she’d ever worn. She smelled of pine smoke, sunshine, and horse. Perfumes and soap would accost her senses.
She knew she was caught between two worlds. It was up to her to decide which one was the right one for her. The one she would feel right living and dying in. People would look at her differently if she went back. No one would trust her. There’d only be suspicion.
She pulled Duster up short and looked behind her. The sun was beginning to set. An array of reds, blues, yellows, and orange streaked across the sky.
Instead of heading west, she turned Duster in the direction of Oro Fino Creek. She decided to intercept a post rider. She was determined to wait a week if she had to. She would send word to Betty and Mr. Smart that she was alive and well. Maybe someday, when the world was different, she’d take Muha ai-wa to meet both of them.
DUSTER PRICKED HER ears forward and looked toward the east. Mayme stood up from a log next to the river where she’d been waiting. She’d been here for over a week now. Since this spot was the only safe place to cross for miles in either direction, Mayme knew it was only a matter of time before the post rider would come through.
The rattle of shod hooves on the river rock and a splash signified he was close. She held Duster by the reins and walked closer.
The rider pulled up sharply and yelled, “Whoa.”
Mayme put her hand up. “I used to be a post rider and this was my route.”
“There weren’t no girls running post.” He eyed her suspiciously and slid his hand closer to the gun in his holster. Mayme could see his eyes darting around, expecting an ambush.
“I went by the name Nathan Adams. I disguised myself as a boy so I could ride.”
The rider jutted his chin at her. “Word had it Nathan got kilt by Injuns. How do I know you’re not making this up?”
Mayme studied the boy. Something seemed familiar about him. Was it his brown eyes? Long, slender fingers? Was he carrying a bit too much weight on his hips for a rider?”
“Here.” Mayme took the loop of braided horsehair from around her neck. The pocket watch dangled from it. She’d wound it and adjusted the time, although she was amazed that it still worked. “If you would do me this kind favour. Please show Betty . . . I mean Kitty, in Oro Fino, this watch. She will know. I know I’m asking a lot. But if you could keep this ticking and give it to Mr. Smart when you deliver the mail in Eagle Rock, I will ensure you safe passage by the Shoshone.”
Mayme didn’t know if she could make
good on the promise or not. Surely if she talked to Osh-Tisch, he might be agreeable to keeping the post riders safe. At any rate, she needed something to bargain with.
“All right.” The boy’s face suddenly softened.
Mayme lifted the watch, placed it in the palm of his hand, and studied his face. She smiled devishly. “It’s nice not having to shave, but a bugger keeping your hair short enough, isn’t it?”
Mayme mounted Duster and threw her head back and laughed. She winked at the rider and reined Duster to the west. She was going home.
Glossary
mochila. A saddlebag designed specifically to carry mail. The mochila had a hole in the front to fit over the saddle horn and a slit for the cantle behind. At the corners were four locked leather boxes where the mail was kept.
hod. A small pail for carrying coal
mogo’ne. woman
nana. man
Ponzo-bert. “Otter Girl”
o-yem-fat-sup. chest or trunk
nuikwi. run
anta. different
ba’nangu. up
ca-tto’aih. to remove
bizi. breast
ca’iju. good, thanks
Osh-Tisch. “finds them and kills them”
yetwitigi. be seated
tekkahpaitseh. invite to eat
natekkat-i. good to eat, edible food
naadoihu. urinate
ah-be-guy. lay down
tukkwan. under, beneath
wemmiha. tired
caan-kammah. to taste good
Osh-Tisch tsategi-nei’ aiwa tu hudda. Osh-Tisch has returned with deer
namasuah. get dressed
wookahtea. ask to help (work)
teteaiwoppih. worker/helper
himakka. hold/keep/carry
Muha ai-wa. “Moon Fawn”
we-its. knife
hadug. yes
taipo. white man
Muha ada. “Moon Raven”
eshi eshi. thanks
Pop-pank. “Jumping Fish”
yaakki. bring here
Laurie Salzler holds a degree in Natural Resources Conservation and Outdoor Recreation. She has worked with animals (wild and domesticated) her entire life, including several years spent in the veterinary field and equine industry at training and breeding facilities in New York, Pennsylvania, and Michigan. She is an avid outdoor enthusiast, whose activities include horseback riding, hiking, kayaking, bird-watching, photography, and one of her favourite pastimes, walking with her pack of canines. As a member of WIRES (Wildlife Information, Rescue and Education Service), she is involved in rescuing and rehabilitating native Australian wildlife in New South Wales.
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