No matter his reasons for her pardon, she would accept and enjoy it, until it was taken away. She was too timid to try to further reason or understand this change in her treatment. If her situation remained like this, her new captor and captivity would be most bearable. If Wanmdi Hota had even suspected she would have been treated like this, he would never have sold her.
Still, her mind could not help but think and warn her, this is only the lull before the storm—and she was too scared to think about what the storm might bring. Not knowing what else to do, she just stood there. She watched him for a clue to this puzzle.
He sat down on a straw mat near the fire and began to work on making new arrows. He took the sharply honed arrowhead and secured it to the slender shaft. Then, he placed the tapered feathers in a slit cut into the other end. He was very careful to get the balance and weight just right to insure true aim and flight. He secured the arrowhead to the shaft when all was set and ready.
While he worked, she strolled over to a rack-like shelf which held bows, arrows, tomahawks, and other weapons for hunting and warfare. Some of these were new, and others were in need of repair. She picked up an item here and there and examined its lines and artistry. She was amazed at the red man’s ingenuity and intelligence that overcame such crude working tonditions and supplies. He did not seem to mind her inquisitiveness or her handling of the weapons. She mused, how very trusting...
She picked up a long, slender shaft resembling a spear with red and gray feathers on one end and a very large head on the other. Evidently red and gray were Brave Bear’s personal colors. She touched the feather in her headband and guessed it was to denote his ownership of her. She happily thought, I am his!
There were pottery jars on the ground which were filled with similar feathers. There were many pouches which she did not open. She left the storage area and just walked around.
He had been secretly watching her and was pleased she did not try to conceal any of the weapons or try to use one on him. She looked perfectly at ease and happy with her new home. He relaxed and returned his full attention to his work as she came to sit beside him.
She watched the deft workings of his strong, masculine hands and the object he worked on. He handed her the one he had just finished. She smiled and took it. She twisted it over in her delicate hands admiring his workmanship.
She put it down on the stack of others and leaned forward to watch him as he began another one. She became so engrossed in her observations that she did not realize she was leaning so close to him. Her breast lightly touched his bare arm and her hand came to rest upon his leg.
As time progressed, this had a very unsettling effect on Brave Bear and his work. Her fresh, sweet smell, her warm nearness, her beauty, gentleness and serenity made him want to crush her to him and possess her this very moment. He knew he could not until she was his in three more moons.
He turned his gaze to her. The stillness of his hands and the quiet of the teepee caused her to look up at him. Seeing that he was staring at her with an open look of desire and tenderness in his eyes, she flushed. He put the half-finished arrow down and pulled her face to his and kissed her softly.
In spite of herself, she stiffened in fear and sought to pull away He felt the trembling in her and saw the pleading look in those large, brilliant eyes. She did not understand that the cold, dangerous glint in his angry eyes was against Gray Eagle and the things he had done to her to make her feel this way.
She stared at him as his lips grew taut in fury and he gritted his teeth. Her face slowly lost all color and fear leaped into her face. She gazed at him without moving, mesmerized like a cobra before the flutist. She could not seem to look away or move. She could only whisper, “I’m sorry...”
Her words broke into his thoughts and fury. He saw her ashen face and the green eyes so full of panic watching him in anticipation of punishment. His jaw and eyes quickly softened as he reached out to caress her cheek with the back of his hand. He returned to his work.
She stared at him in utter confusion. Why had he acted like that? She could not comprehend the gentle kiss, the sudden violent anger, then the tenderness when he saw her fear and panic. He was not going to press her or punish her? What kind of a man was he? He was far more unpredictable than Wanmdi Hotal
Why had he been so forgiving of her withdrawal? He could have easily overpowered her with his massive strength and done anything he wished to her. She could not figure out what he was saving her for. Is he trying to make me fall in love with him? she thought. But why would he want her to love him? Did he think she might compare him to Wanmdi Hota? If only I knew what he wanted from me, Alisha fretted. His actions seem to ask for more than a submissive slave.
She tried to recall what Powchutu had told her about all tribes being different in laws, customs and ways. The tribes out here were only alike in one way—their fierce hatred and contempt of the white man and his coming. She had come to see and know one thing for certain and that was how greatly her own people had underestimated the intelligence, physical strength, skills and courage of the Indians. Her people had been correct in one assumption: that they were aggressive, restless hunters and warriors, and very powerful enemies. But they were so much more. Alisha sighed. The two peoples could have learned and shared a lot together if they had not insisted on being enemies.
She was lightly shaken from her deep thoughts by Brave Bear’s hand on her shoulder. She looked up in askance. She had been unaware of his departure, but surely he had gone for his garments were clean and fresh and his braids still wet. She must have been lost in her thoughts for a good while.
He stood tall and lean above her. He was wearing what Alisha called a weskit and leggings of matching deerskin, which were fringed and quilled. He placed a grizzly bear claw necklace around his neck. She knew from the stories Powchutu had told her that he had bare-handedly killed a fearless grizzly bear. Only a brave who had slain the fierce animal was allowed to wear its claws. A deed like that would certainly take a great deal of courage and daring. Powchutu had also told her the Indian tried to never kill a bear because it was believed to carry great spirits and magic, just like their brothers the buffalo. When it became necessary to do so, the animal’s death was mourned as a fallen forest warrior.
She gazed up and down Brave Bear’s lithe frame, thinking how much he reminded her of a story about a fierce Viking conqueror. He was so warlike and brave, but yet, gentle. His stance was one of self-confidence and boldness. Her face betrayed her awareness of his good looks and prowess. He was pleased by her expression and smiled knowingly.
Alisha hastily tore her gaze from his and pinkened. How she wished she could overcome this disconcerting habit of always blushing! Why did she feel so guilty at the way he made her react to him?
He pulled her to her feet by both of her arms to face him. He scanned the curious eyes and colorful face very slowly.
Alisha’s gaze settled on his wanapin. She could not resist the urge to reach out and touch the long, sharp, deadly claws at his neck. She had heard the grizzly could open a horse’s side or man’s abdomen with one swipe and empty their insides to the ground. She lightly fingered them, then looked up at him with pride and respect glowing in her eyes.
She softly said, “You must be very brave and strong.”
Her tone was very soft and gentle. He knew from the sound of it and the look on her face she had said something pleasant and nice to him or about him. How he wished she knew the words in his tongue to tell him what she meant.
He smiled and called, “Piintwike ...”
It was nearly dusk. There was a huge campfire not far away which dispelled the chill and dark of the coming night. She hesitated and drew back in sudden panic. He cupped her face in between his hands and gazed into her eyes with reassurance. His mood and expression conveyed protection and peace to her. She followed him.
They sat before the campfire on a buffalo skin along with the old chief. The people appeared to be very happy
and excited about something about to take place. A feeling of expectance and joy was felt all around her.
She involuntarily jumped as a low whoop abruptly sounded in the still, quiet night. Brave Bear’s hand covered hers and held it securely. She watched as an Indian man danced around the fire, chanting some unintelligible song. He wore part of the head of a buffalo over his own with the skin falling down his back like a cape. She knew she was observing some type of ceremony, but could not fathom its meaning.
She studied the faces of the people around her. They held no malice toward her so she was not the center of attraction for what was about to take place. But if she were not involved in some way, then why was she, a captive, allowed to join them? Perhaps she was wrong! Maybe she would be the star attraction later...
After the buffalo dancer completed his part, other braves danced and chanted for a time. Later, they were joined by some young maidens who began to sing and dance with them. Soon, they appeared to pair off, but never touched. They would dance toward each other, giving what Alisha called romantic gazes, then dance away once more. Over and over they would repeat these actions.
The drumming suddenly stopped and five blankets were brought forward and given to the five girls. Each in turn walked to her partner and stopped before him, placing the blanket around her shoulders. She then embraced him, drawing him into the blanket with her.
Loud whoops of joy and excitement filled the area as the couples each ran laughing toward separate teepees. A thought hit her, a multiple wedding!
The chanting and dancing started again and she turned to watch what would happen next. Feeling for sure she was not expected to do anything, she began to relax and become absorbed in what was going on around her. Brave Bear was closely scrutinizing her and her behavior. He noted the disappearance of her apprehension and the smile upon her lips. She was thinking of how beautiful all weddings were.
Someone stepped before her vision and handed her a fork, spoon and cup which had been carved from the horns of a buffalo, along with a clay-type plate. She was then given food and water. She looked at the menu before her, buffalo roast, wild vegetables, corn cakes, and berries. At this feast, she was being allowed to eat at the same time as the men. She ate as she watched the merriment before her.
Several men came forward and seated themselves by the fire and began to play a variety of musical instruments. One beat on a kettle drum, one clicked sticks of different lengths together for a variety of sounds, several blew on eagle bone whistles and others shook gourd rattlers of varying sizes and shapes. The music was very enjoyable. Alisha found herself nodding her head to the beat of the music.
When the eating was finished and the music stopped, she watched as two braves came forward to the fire, each carrying a small baby. She tensed in anticipation. Surely they did not practice pagan sacrifices of babies? The ritual was the same in both cases. First the father and then the child was tattooed. The tattoo was made by first scratching the desired akito on the skin with a sharp bone. Then, the ceremonial chief rubbed cold, black ash from the fire into the etchings. The marks were identical for the man and his child. The man’s was on the back of his right hand and the “papoos” was on its left buttock. The child’s placement was to avoid confusion when he became an adult and had an akito of his own.
Observing the ritual held no special meaning for Alisha. She did not even recall what area of her body the old chief had examined and touched. The thought she carried an akito on her left buttock to match the one on the old chief’s hand never entered her mind.
She looked over to find both men watching her very intently as if they waited for her to do or say something. She stared bewildered, wondering why they stared at her like that. She did not comprehend the ritual’s importance in her life, nor the curious looks from the two men. She nervously forced her attention back to the events before her.
The feasting and celebrating went on and on. She realized the young warrior beside her was appropriately dressed for this occasion and began to wonder at her own dress and appearance. She could easily pass for an Indian and his mate from her looks and his behavior toward her. She felt like the missing piece to a puzzle, where everyone but she knew where it fit!
I feel like a lady being presented at court by the king himself, Alisha thought. How could he possibly feel anything for me when we have just met? I shall surely go mad if I do not guess this riddle soon. He treats me like his prized mate. No, not even that, for he doesn’t even touch me at night. For the hundredth time, her mind screamed, what does he want from me? Why do these people look at me and treat me like I belong here, like this is a natural, normal situation? But I wish it could be like this forever...
Alisha began to get very tired and sleepy. Her head began to nod sleepily. Brave Bear realized her fatigue and took her back to their teepee. She trustingly followed him like a child and lay down to go to sleep. He stayed there for a time watching her sleep. He thought, soon you will be mine, Shalee, and then I shall not have to leave your side at night.
He left the teepee to return to the feast and the others. He would sleep later. He did not need to be so close to her right now. Her beauty had outshone itself tonight. She would be far too tempting lying there so close and warm. He beamed with pride at the comments from some of the other men.
Morning dawned with a bright burst of sunlight and music from eager songbirds, ready to begin their new day. Alisha lazily stretched on the buffalo skins as she attuned herself to her surroundings. It still seemed strange to wake up here, knowing she now belonged to another man. But what a man he was turning out to be! If he was trying to settle her down and get under her skin, he was doing a very good and quick job of it!
She suddenly thought, I bet I’m the only white person anywhere near here. I wonder how long it will be before more whites and cavalry come and the bloodbath begins all over again. Why can’t they just leave the Indians to their lands and in peace? Could anything be worth so many lives and so much suffering?
The flap was lifted and Matu came in, bringing food. She shocked Alisha with her new-found kindness and friendliness. Alisha felt alarm creep up her back and neck at the old woman’s behavior and attention toward her. Alisha had caught her watching her many times with that secretive, knowing smile.
Seeing Alisha’s expression of wariness and suspicion, Matu lovingly patted her hand and spoke rapidly to her. She could only grasp a few of the words, for Matu had slipped back into the use of her own tongue.
“Shalee ... hiya ... iksisakuyi... Mahpiya Sapa... Mato Waditaka... Shalee... hiya Wanmdi Hota ... lalematahpi ... Shalee...”
The young girl stared at her in confusion. Was Matu trying to say Alisha when she kept saying Shalee so many times? She had never called Lese anything before, so she assumed she could not say her name correctly. Why Matu was brought here was a mystery to Alisha.
Why is she waiting on me like a servant rather than me doing the work of a slave? Alisha thought, for she knew she had not been forced to do any work since she had been brought here. Why?
So many questions filled her mind, but still no answers. At least none which made any sense to her. Perhaps she would never understand this strange situation. If only one of them could speak English, or she could learn their tongue. She could tell it was a different dialect from the Oglala, so the few words she had learned in the Oglala village were of no use to her here. If this brave and his people were willing, she would learn his tongue and be able to communicate with them. He certainly did not view and treat her as Wanmdi Hota had done. Would he care if I tried to learn his tongue and talked with him? she wondered. I cannot help but believe he likes and accepts me, white or not! I only hope I am correct. She silently prayed, please let me find peace and acceptance here.
She decided to find out what he would think about her attempts to communicate with him. Powchutu had told her each tribe had its own dialect, but could communicate with each other with a sort of sign language. Powchutu had spoken some o
f the different dialects for her to show her how they differed. Some of them sounded guttural, some nasal, some harsh, and some mellifluous. Powchutu was very quick and talented at picking up a new dialect. I wish he were here now to help me learn just this one, she sighed deeply.
As she was eating, she was wondering where Brave Bear was this morning. She decided she was restless in the confines of his teepee. What would his people do if she walked outside? She looked out the opening in the flap and gazed all around. There did not appear to be anyone guarding her, so she stepped out into the warm sunlight. Still, no guard pounced upon her to force her back inside.
Everyone seemed absorbed in his daily chores and duties. Some of the women were sitting in a group making pemmican, while others bagged it for storage. She came near to where they worked and stopped to watch them. She observed how they pounded the dried meat into a fine powder, mixed it with a type of melted fat, and added crushed, dried berries. They pressed it into rolls and packed it into leather bags to store for use later. It would last for months after this preparation.
Although the Indian women seemed to do most of the work and chores, they were highly respected. The women were allowed to join the men for certain feasts and ceremonies, but most of the talks, meetings and rituals were for the warriors and men only. Powchutu had told her the winyan owned all the family’s property, except for the horses and weapons. Indian women were indeed different in many ways from white women.
Alisha moved on to where other women were cooking meat on a large spit. Others sat talking as they sewed on new garments and moccasins. There were many others, alone or in small groups, doing various chores. As she walked among them or stopped to observe what they did, Alisha was surprised that they would look up and nod or smile to her! She could not believe her eyes, but would nod and smile sweetly in return. Then, she would move on to view others.
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