Spirit of the Lake

by Paty Jager

  “I will camp alone, outside the village.”

  “Who will cook for you or tend your fire?” She didn’t like the idea of him being alone. Something could happen to him. Now that the others knew of him, what might the other warriors do knowing he didn’t abide to the ways of their band?

  He smiled and her concerns banished. “I will seek nourishment and company from your fire.” He glanced at Crazy One. “And always when Crazy One is here. I will not come into this dwelling if you are alone.”

  She opened her mouth to tell him she wasn’t afraid of him anymore, but he placed a finger over her lips.

  “I will not enter when you are alone to keep your honor.”

  Her face heated with embarrassment. Of course the others would keep an eye on their friendship. Did Thunder Traveling to Distant Mountains think…

  “Did they ask if you and I…” She couldn’t say the rest. Her heart hammered in her chest shoving air from her.

  “No.” He took her hands. “As your child grows some may talk. It is best we don’t feed their thoughts.”

  She nodded, staring at his hands holding hers. This kind of contact she never dreamed possible with a man after what had happened to her. Now, she could not touch him outside this tipi without others thinking wrong thoughts.

  “I must go. I’ll return in the morning and help pack for the journey to the Imnaha.”

  “It is not a man’s job to take down the dwelling or pack.” She turned to Crazy One for her support.

  “Would you make them think she is not a good woman?” Crazy One stepped up and swatted Wewukiye’s shoulder.

  “She’s growing a child.” Wewukiye watched Crazy One then peered into Doves eyes. “You should not do things which could harm the baby.”

  “I must do my work as always. Crazy One can handle what I must not do.” Dove savored his concern.

  “Crazy One is not young.” He ducked from the gnarled hand swinging at his head.

  “Am I not your niece? Who else cares to help sweet Dove?”

  She called herself his niece. That held more meaning than calling him her uncle. The woman was different but not crazy. Why did she not call him her nephew and she his aunt? Before she could dwell on the thought Wewukiye captured her attention.

  “I will help. I can gather wood during the night, hiding it for you to find in the morning. I will do the same with water.” He smiled at his cleverness.

  Dove returned the good-natured smile, her heart opening wider to the man. Many times during the last three moons she thanked the Creator for sending Wewukiye to the lake that night and saving her. Today, she thanked the Creator for this man who showed her the so-yá-po did not take away her ability to want a husband. Not just any husband, but the man standing in front of her, grinning.

  “But a warrior does not do woman’s work. You will need to ready your weapons to hunt with the others.” The moment the words left her mouth she realized, never had she seen him with any type of weapon. Not a knife or a bow and arrow.

  “I will travel with you. I will provide meat for you. I will not join in as one with your band.”

  The firm set to his square jaw and the spark of dignity lighting his eyes made her wonder at the band and family he left behind. Surely, they would miss a warrior such as he.

  “How is it your family will not worry you are gone so long?”

  He glanced at Crazy One then settled his thoughtful gaze on Dove. “My family knows I am on a knowledge quest.”

  She stared into his eyes. Untold stories hid within them. She also witnessed a stubborn set to his jaw and knew he would not tell her what he hid.

  “It is time I go.” He stood, pulling her to her feet.

  She’d forgotten her hands remained tucked into his warm large ones. His touch filled her with strength and security. His strong fingers squeezing hers sent waves of heat tingling up her arms and warmed her suffering heart.

  “When will you return?” She cringed at the pleading tone in her words.

  His lips curved into the captivating, mischievous grin she’d witnessed him bestow on Crazy One.

  “I believe you are going to miss me.”

  The arrogant, playful tone should have angered her, but she smiled back. “I only wish to know if you will stumble into our camp when we are in the middle of tearing down the dwelling.”

  He frowned. “I do not stumble anywhere. I shall be here when the sun peeks over the ridge.”

  She nodded and cast her gaze to his moccasins. If her relief and excitement shone in her eyes she wished to keep those feelings hidden. She must remain aloof or fear becoming too attached.

  Movement outside the dwelling shot her gaze to Wewukiye. Someone approached.

  He released her hands and strode the three steps to the opening. He threw back the flap and stepped outside. Who would wish to speak with them? Had the council not believed Wewukiye?

  Dove stepped toward the opening. Crazy One caught her arm. “Has my uncle not helped you?” She pulled on Dove’s arm, tugging her away from the exit. “Has he not the knowledge and powers to keep you safe?”

  Dove stared into the old woman’s watery eyes. She again called him her uncle, and now she talked about powers. Her face heated remembering his gentle touch on her belly and how it settled her food.

  Who was this warrior with sunshine hair?

  «»«»«»

  Wewukiye crossed his arms and stared at Frog, the younger son of Chief Joseph.

  “My father wishes you remain with the unmarried men.” Frog took the same stance.

  “Tell your father I am honored for his offer, but I will remain on my own.” He was sure the chief had not offered, he’d ordered.

  “I know not of your people. You will respect the ways of our band.” Frog did not raise his voice, but his tone pulled people from their tasks to watch.

  “I do not disrespect your ways or your people. I am on a quest and will remain apart from the band at night. I will help Crazy One and Dove on the journey to the Imnaha and back.” He scanned the growing crowd. He knew not who might be Dove’s family. If they had believed in her, he would not have had to show himself. Anger they could abandon her seethed in his gut.

  He opened his mouth to say as much. A shrill eagle call pierced the gray sky. Sa-qan.

  Wewukiye flinched. She had spotted him in the village. He would much rather face the whole Lake Nimiipuu band than his sister.

  “I will return when the sun peeks over the ridge.” He pointed to the ridge behind Frog. The warrior narrowed his eyes. Wewukiye had nothing more to say. He turned and walked from the village.

  They would watch him, of this he was certain. Once in the cover of the woods, he shifted into an elk and loped up the mountain in search of Sa-qan.

  She sat on a limb. The magnitude of her displeasure shone in her yellow eyes.

  “How could you show yourself to the Lake Nimiipuu? What untruths did you tell?” She paced the length of the limb. “This is not good.” Her head shook, and her tail feathers twitched.

  “I could not let Dove take the blame for my hasty actions.” He placed his antler on the branch to stop her pacing. “They are questioning the friendship of the White man.” He smiled.

  “That is the least of your concerns.” She poked her pointed beak in his face. “How did you explain your hair and the fact they have not seen you before?”

  “I told them I am of the upper Nimiipuu band, one whose ancestors had hair the color of sun and I am on a quest.” He nodded. “I have not told untruths. We are of the band with hair the color of the sun. I am on a quest to help Dove.”

  She smacked him with her wing. “We are of that band from many, many seasons ago. What if they question you? Or ask others?”

  “There will be no one from the Upper Nimiipuu venture this way now. Everyone is moving to lower ground for the coming of the snow.”

  “You are too confident. With the Lake Nimiipuu moving away from the mountain you do not have to protect the w
oman. There is no need for you to remain among them.”

  “I have promised Dove I will remain with her until the arrival of her child.” He ducked his head and added. “I will travel with them to the Imnaha.”

  “That is not necessary. Our niece can take care of her. They will not abandon the two. It is not the way of our people.” Sa-qan tapped his head with her wing. “You cannot be selfish and stay with them to make your own mind light.”

  “I promised the woman I would be with her through this. She draws strength from my presence.” Was he being selfish? His dedication and attraction to Dove rivaled his dedication to the Lake Nimiipuu. The Creator placed him and his siblings here after his selfish father caused the death of many warriors on a hunt. He would not become his father.

  “She is not slow if she has worked through the deceit of the so-yá-po. She will soon see through you and discover the truth. What will you do then?”

  The concern in his sister’s eyes surprised him. How had she circled from anger and reproach to concern?

  “When she has questions, I will answer them honestly. It will be easier for her to know the truth after the baby is born and I return to my full duties.” The thought of leaving her once they proved the White man’s attack weighed like a boulder on his shoulders.

  “It is the wish of the Creator that you help the Lake Nimiipuu see the White man’s deceit.” Sa-qan spoke so low he thought he’d heard wrong.

  “What I am doing is not putting me in disfavor?” He wanted to shout his gratitude to the Creator. From the moment he raised the woman’s lifeless body from the depths of his lake he connected with her and had to keep her safe. His chest expanded with pride in the knowledge he’d been right.

  Sa-qan flapped her wings, drawing his attention. “You must guard the woman. I have seen many so-yá-po gather at the cabin of Evil Eyes.” She narrowed her eyes. “Anger floats from his chimney with the smoke of his fire.”

  Wewukiye knew this anger. He had witnessed it on two occasions. “I will travel with the band, remaining outside the camp at night. The council is not happy I do not wish to live in the unmarried warrior’s lodge.”

  She nodded. “I will keep an eye on the so-yá-po and let you know if he is up to anything.”

  He had planned to slip into elk form at night and run back to the valley to check on Evil Eyes’s actions. The knowledge his sister watched the man would allow him to remain near the band at night. “That would be helpful.”

  “When do you leave?” Sa-qan peered down the mountain in the sparse light of the moon filtering through clouds.

  “They will dismantle the village tomorrow.”

  “I will contact you when you have arrived at Imnaha.” Sa-qan spread her wings and bent her legs to launch.

  “Qe`ci`yew`yew, sister.”

  Sa-qan leapt into the air and sailed into the dark night. Wewukiye stared at her glowing white head until he could no longer see it.

  Sa-qan had remained adamant their brother Himiin leave the mortal Wren alone when they met many seasons ago. She had not come around to the likelihood of the two merging until after the Creator granted Himiin his human form to be with Wren. He’d noticed since then his sister had mellowed to the thought of merging spirits and mortals.

  Could she be experiencing the loneliness he’d suffered before saving Dove? Was the Creator rewarding them for their season upon season of watching over the Nimiipuu?

  The wind blew a cold breeze under his hair, and he stared up at the brightening moon. He shook his grand antlers and stomped his feet. Becoming mortal again did not appeal to him. He enjoyed his freedom and superiority being a spirit and continuing his vigil over the generations of Nimiipuu.

  The vision of Dove, holding his hand and smiling when he said he would travel with them to Imnaha stalled his hooves in the decaying forest floor. His chest warmed. Now he knew and understood the strange mix of emotions Himiin faced.

  Wewukiye raised his face to the sky and stared at the brightest star.

  “Brother, how did you know when it was time to let a mortal in?”

  Pú-timt wax pí-lept

  (14)

  Dove woke to the rustling sounds of Crazy One rolling up her blankets and tulle mat.

  “Are you sleeping well? Will not my uncle be coming?” Crazy One stacked her bedding by the door and stirred the coals in the fire.

  Dove slowly stood. The larger the baby grew the more her back ached each morning. She rolled up her blankets and mat, adding them to the pile by the door.

  “Why do you call Wewukiye your uncle?” She took the dried kouse bread from the older woman and sat down to eat it by the crackling fire. The heat warmed her front. A spiral of smoke rose into the air, disappearing out the smoke hole at the top of their dwelling.

  “Is he not my uncle?” The woman bit into her bread and chewed. Her eyes sparkled like stars in a black sky.

  “He cannot be your uncle. You are older.”

  “Why is he not my uncle? Was not my father his brother?”

  The woman stated her questions with such conviction Dove wanted to believe her, but someone of Wewukiye’s age would be considered a brother or cousin.

  “Then Wewukiye’s brother had to be many seasons older to be your father. He would have been near death when Wewukiye was born. Which means your father’s parents would have been dead or close to leaving this earth. How could either have brought Wewukiye to this earth? It does not make sense.” She chewed on the bread and thought about their vast ages.

  The woman must either be fooling with her or she really did believe Wewukiye was her uncle. Was he really a relative, or had he come across the woman in the forest, and seeing her strange behavior, talked her into believing he was a relative?

  This thought evoked fear and distrust. The food in her mouth stuck in her throat when she tried to swallow. Wewukiye had banished all her fear and distrust of him from nearly the moment they met. How was it his touch and gentle eyes made her believe he would bring her no harm? And his hand soothing her sickness…Did he hold powers?

  The hoof beats of the Sun Herald’s horse vibrated the ground and drummed in her head.

  “Rise up! There is work to do. We leave the lake soon!” His shouts reverberated through the hide covering.

  Dove listened to the movement outside their safe home. There would be much work today. Their belongings would be packed on horses and their dwelling taken down. They would leave for the Imnaha the moment their belongings sat atop the horses.

  She shoved the remainder of the bread in her mouth, stood, and dipped a handful of water from the pouch hanging on the side of the tipi. The coolness washed down the last crumbs stuck in her throat.

  Within minutes, she and Crazy One had all their belongings bundled into baskets, ready for the journey. Dove carried the first basket out of the dwelling. She placed it on the ground a few steps from the door. Straightening, her gaze fell upon Wewukiye walking through the village, leading four horses.

  He smiled and her earlier thoughts disappeared. He had yet to break a promise.

  Her gaze traveled beyond him to the people busy loading belongings on horses or beginning the task of taking down their homes. Many stopped to watch him walk by, his head held high, his stride long and confident.

  She wanted to bask in his gaze and touch him, but to do so with the others watching would start false beliefs among them. She nodded to Wewukiye and ducked back into the dwelling. Her breathing accelerated replaying the way he moved through the village. Thumping in her ears mimicked the thud of her heart.

  “When will my uncle arrive?” Crazy One’s eyes shimmered with mirth.

  Dove covered her burning cheeks with her hands. The old woman could see how the man flustered her mind and heated her body. To travel with him and not show her true feelings for Wewukiye would prove harder than when she stood up to the elders and told them of Evil Eyes attack.

  Crazy One dragged a basket out the door. Dove shook off the new emotions tang
ling in her body and carried another basket outside.

  “Will four horses be enough?” Wewukiye asked Crazy One. He took the basket from Dove. His hands remained over hers a moment. Their gazes locked.

  Good morning. You slept well, for the dark circles no longer shadow your eyes. We must remain aloof while others look on. His words floated in her head, but his lips did not move.

  He gently tugged the basket from her hands and turned to the horses. She stared at his back. She heard his voice, but his lips did not move. How could that be?

  Crazy One grabbed her elbow, directing her back into the dwelling. Dove shook her head and rubbed her hands over her eyes. She had heard his deep lulling voice as clear as if he talked to her. Had she missed his lips moving because she stared into his eyes?

  “Do you want to cause a spectacle? Did he not talk to you without speaking?” Crazy One pinched her.

  “Ouch!” Dove rubbed the pained spot. “Why did you do that?”

  “Why did you not hear me? Do I have to remind you to speak only in your head to my uncle?” The woman thrust the bedding into her arms.

  “How is it I can hear him in my head? Can he hear me, too?” Dove stepped to the door and stopped. She stared at the woman. Her heart raced with fear and exhilaration. “I don’t understand what is happening.”

  “Do you not want to speak with my uncle? Is the village not watching?” Crazy One shoved another basket toward the entrance. “Can you not forget your fears?” She bumped Dove’s legs with the basket, forcing her out into the gray cold morning.

  Wewukiye grasped the bedding, staring deep into her eyes. Do not be afraid. This is the way we must talk when others are watching.

  Dove released the bedding but held his gaze. Can we only speak this way while staring at one another?

  No. I wanted to make sure you knew it was me. Wewukiye walked to the horse.

  How is it we can talk this way? She glanced at the nearest people to see if they heard the conversation. They all continued their work unknowing of their discussion. Her belly quivered.

  I will explain it all later. Wewukiye took the basket from Crazy One.