Caroline didn’t doubt him, but sensed there was far more to his story. “Is that why you hate whites, for stealing you and deceiving you?”
“No, for they were good but misguided people who yearned for a son and believed their God had sent me to them.” That was all he would tell her; he felt it was not smart to expose too much about himself to her.
“We did not start this war,” he went on. “We did not travel to your lands to steal them. When white trappers and traders first came to this territory, they were greeted in friendship. More and more came. Greed was born in them and sprouted swiftly. They made themselves our enemies. But enough talk of such dark things.”
Caroline realized he wanted to change the subject, so she asked, “How old is your son? What’s his name?”
“He is two months old and is called Casmu, which means Sand. My wife is Macha, which means Dawn.” He smiled at his beloved as she looked around when he spoke her name. “I am Yutokeca Mahpiya, Cloud Chaser. If you wish to learn our language, I will teach you. I warn you now, Caroline, it would be foolish and dangerous to dupe us, disobey, or escape.”
“I understand, and I’ll do as I’m told. What do you want me to do? Where will I—” She halted as her captor ducked his head and entered the tepee, carrying her fabric satchel in one hand, and glancing at her with a strange look.
War Eagle spoke with his half brother in Lakota. “I come to bring her possessions. They were on Swift Otter’s horse. Does she obey you?”
A confident Cloud Chaser nodded as he said, “I believe she is a good woman and will give me no trouble. Does that please you?”
“Yes, for I would not want trouble to come from my action.”
Cloud Chaser saw how War Eagle looked at the captive. He also saw Caroline gaze at the younger warrior, then blush and lower her eyes. “Trouble will come,” he told War Eagle, “but it will not be caused by your brave deed. It was generous of you to allow her to bring her possessions with her.”
“I allowed her to bring only what could be carried with us. The rest of the hunters will return on the next sun. When the third sun rises, Father says we will strike camp and leave for the sacred hills. There, we will prepare for war with our enemy.”
“I wish peace could come this season, my brother, but it will not be so with the white war chief riding to our lands to challenge us.”
“That is true,” War Eagle agreed. “What words did she speak to you?”
Cloud Chaser told him, then added, “She knows nothing of use to us in the coming conflict.”
“Do you think she would reveal such words if she knew them?”
Cloud Chaser pondered this, then nodded. He wanted to question War Eagle’s thoughts and feelings about the girl, but decided it was unwise; he needed to do all he could to draw War Eagle’s perilous attention from her. “Did Father order out more scouts to watch for signs of trouble and for the camp’s protection?”
“Yes, and I ride to obey him.” War Eagle smiled at Macha when she turned and greeted him. “Casmu grows larger and stronger each sun. He looks at many things with keen eyes. Soon, my brother will have a shadow trailing him,” he joked with a grin.
“That will please him,” Macha said. “One sun, you will know such feelings, for you are a man now and should seek out a mate.”
“I have much to do before that sun rises. I must help drive the enemy from our lands and protect our people.”
“You are strong, so you can do both tasks at the same time, as do your brothers. I have seen young women watching you with desire in their gazes.”
War Eagle ruffled Casmu’s dark hair, grinned, and said, “I ride before you choose a wild female for me when I am not ready to tame one.”
“If she loves you as I love Cloud Chaser, no taming will be needed.”
“Help me, my brother, for your wife seeks to push me into a trap.”
Cloud Chaser chuckled. “If the right woman shares that trap, you will be happy there with her, as I am happy in mine.”
“I did not know men viewed unions as traps,” Macha said. “Why have you not shared that secret with me before, my husband?”
Caroline listened to the genial exchange, though she could not grasp their Lakota words. It was obvious to her that they were a close-knit family, and that all three had forgotten her presence for a while. From their cheerful tones, expressions, and gestures, she surmised they were joking about something or someone, perhaps having to do with the child since their attention mainly seemed focused on the baby. During the men’s earlier talk, she had heard her name mentioned several times. She wished she knew what had been said. For certain, the warrior who had captured her was difficult—impossible—to ignore. She found herself wanting to stare at him, talk with him, learn everything there was to know about him. She watched him tousle the infant’s ebony hair for a second time, then depart without even glancing in her direction.
Cloud Chaser passed her the satchel, which she accepted with relief and joy. He asked which items she had selected from her belongings to bring with her, perhaps in an attempt to learn more about her. She opened the bag and said, “I have no weapon inside,” in case that thought had entered his mind. “Only clothes, photographs of my brother and parents, a rag doll my mother made for me as a child, and our family Bible. Would you like to examine the contents?”
“No, but show me the photographs.”
Caroline handed the prized objects to him, and prayed he would not keep or destroy them. She watched him gaze at the two pictures for a long while, especially her brother’s, before returning them. After thanking him, she inquired, “Where shall I put my satchel?”
Cloud Chaser pointed to an area near the colorful dew cloth, an added interior layer for deflecting rain and smoke to the outside and to beautify the dwelling.
She stood and placed her belongings where instructed, noticing how clean and orderly the tepee was kept by his wife. A home… Would she, Caroline fretted, ever have her own home? A family? Freedom? True love and happiness? At present, those longtime dreams looked bleak. Yet, she must not lose faith in God or herself and become despondent or reckless. She must make the best of the situation until it changed.
Caroline told Cloud Chaser what she had been thinking about his wife and added, “She’s also a good cook; the meal was delicious. How do I thank her in your language?”
Although Macha spoke some English, Cloud Chaser had instructed his wife to conceal that ability so she could glean information on the sly. “The word is pilamaya for thank you. Good food is woyute waste; it translates to food good. Our sentences are different from English. The main word comes first. Speak to her before I tell you more.”
Caroline realized Cloud Chaser had learned a lot while living with the whites which might be advantageous to her during her predicament. She smiled at Dawn and said, “Pilamaya, Macha. Woyute waste.”
Macha smiled and nodded her gratitude. She listened as her beloved husband taught the white female a few Lakota commands for communication during their chores. She was amused as Caroline repeated them until she could speak them correctly. She was proud of her husband for his keen wits and kindness. She had never been sorry or ashamed for fleeing with him during the last hot season or for becoming his wife under the white law before joining to him in their custom. It had been a long, hard, and perilous task for him to earn his way back into their band, but the Great Spirit had blessed them in countless areas. She yearned for peace to return to their land so they could have safety and harmony again, but she feared it was not to be, at least not during this or the coming season. She also feared for her husband’s safety and survival, as he was the one who rode to the forts to spy on the bluecoats, placing himself in great danger each time he carried out that brave and cunning deed. With the rising of each sun and moon, she prayed for all she loved to be protected from harm. Her thoughts were halted when Cloud Chaser said he had chores to do and that Caroline was ready to help her with her tasks. She watched him rise, sen
d her and Casmu an adoring smile, and depart to join other men.
Macha said, “Uwo, Caroline,” and motioned for her to come.
That night, a weary Caroline lay on a buffalo hide assigned to her as a sleeping mat. Hers was positioned near the back edge of the tepee, with the couple’s unrolled in the center, between her and the entrance, along with the infant’s cradle-board where the baby slumbered in serenity. Considering how hot it was during the day, she was surprised and pleased by how cool and pleasant it was at night on the vast grasslands and near the river, and especially inside the tepee. A refreshing breeze wafted into the dwelling and swept upward to a wide-spread ventilation opening, creating a steady and soothing airflow. Outside the tossed-back flap was a small fire to provide light during the dark new moon’s phase, as it would send forth too much unneeded heat if burning inside.
She was tired and drowsy, as she had worked hard after her long ride. After Cloud Chaser left them alone, the baby had been laid on an animal skin beneath a wooden stand topped with branches to provide shade. She and Macha had tended to his needs whenever necessary and had kept watchful gazes on him. She had helped the Indian woman cut buffalo meat into long thin strips and suspend them over high and sturdy racks to dry for preservation. They had fetched water from the river and gathered scrub wood and buffalo chips as fuel for a fire to cook the evening meal, a stew of fresh meat and wild vegetables, that simmered for hours.
Other than War Eagle’s mother and sister and Macha’s mother, no other women approached them during their labors, as if it were forbidden or perhaps her presence was repulsive. Only Hanmani had half smiled at her during those two visits. Other women, mostly females around her age, observed her for brief periods. From their expressions, she concluded that they were vexed by her presence, or by her capture by the handsome War Eagle. A few times, she caught some of the men glancing at her, but for the most part, they ignored her, which suited her just fine.
After they had eaten at dusk, she and Macha stored the tools for their tasks, checked on the meat’s safety—from wild animals, she supposed—tended the baby, unrolled the mats, and lay down on them. For a short time, she had heard the couple whispering as they snuggled together. She didn’t know what they said, but it was evident they were deeply in love. She couldn’t help wondering how long it would take them to resent the loss of their privacy. What would happen to her when that dreaded day came? Would she be given to another family, endlessly passed around from tepee to tepee, perhaps left in the wilderness to die alone, or be returned to her captor?
Caroline took a deep but quiet breath to quell those harsh concerns.
Stop worrying and get to sleep! You’ll probably have a longer and harder day tomorrow, so you need your rest.
The next day was filled with those same chores and more. She watched as the rest of the hunters returned with loaded travois from their final task, and the women set about to handle the meat and hides. They rode into camp shortly before the return of the braves who had taken the wagons away, which evoked another gathering of the men present to speak with them.
During the hottest part of the day, she and Macha washed clothes in shade provided by trees growing along the river’s bank and spread them out on bushes to dry.
Later, at the water’s edge, she and Macha gathered rushes to make backrests and sitting mats and trays for carrying items. During each trip to and from the tepee, Caroline caught furtive glimpses of War Eagle as he talked or did tasks with other men.
As the August sun sank into the horizon, they foraged the surrounding area for greens and dug up bulbs to be used in their next few meals. She learned which plants were edible, which ones to avoid, and which ones were used for medicines and dyes. She was amazed and impressed by how the Indians used the wild offerings of nature for survival. She also discovered that nothing from the great hairy beasts they slew went to waste. Horns became weapons and tool handles, drinking cups, and diggers. Hooves became glue. Hair was fashioned into balls for children and other items. Bladders and stomachs made excellent water bags and supply pouches. Hides would be turned into tepees, clothing, and shoes. Sinew provided thread for sewing. Bones became tools and weapons. The meat was the main source of their nourishment, especially in the winter when snow covered the ground and many animals migrated to other locations. Of course, other creatures were slain for those same uses, but the buffalo was their main provider for survival. Now, she understood why the Indians were so concerned about white men slaying the beasts only for their hides. It was clear to her that stopping those hunters would go a long way toward peace.
* * *
As War Eagle furtively observed Caroline while she did her chores, just as he had done yesterday, he wondered if she hated him and viewed him as a “savage,” a fierce “hostile,” as most whites did. Surely she was frightened by and distrustful of them, of him, even though she had given him a gift of gratitude for the snake rescue. He touched the pezutaozuha suspended around his neck where he had placed a white circle the size of his two thumbnails. Carved in black upon what Cloud Chaser told him was “whale ivory” was a scene with a big fish, a strange boat, clouds, and water. His brother had said it was called “scrimshaw” and had been done by the chief of a boat that captured huge fish called “whales,” which swam in the big waters far away. A yellow circle on its top revealed it had been suspended on a thong of some kind and worn around her neck after her brother gave it to her long ago, according to what she had told Cloud Chaser. He was amazed she had parted with it, but it must have been the only possession she had with her that was an appropriate gift for a man, and she had felt compelled to thank him for saving her life and for bringing her to a camp of good people. But did that alter her feelings about them? About him?
Neither he nor they had mistreated her, but perhaps she was being obedient and even friendly to Cloud Chaser and Macha only to avoid punishment or death. He tried to study her in closely guarded secret, as he did not want others alerted to his interest in her. He could not help desiring her. With her sunny hair and sky-colored eyes, she was beautiful and alluring. Cloud Chaser’s mother had those same colorings and agreeable traits when she was their father’s captive long ago. Perhaps some white females possessed great magic and could not be resisted, which would reveal why their father had taken Omaste once when he was suffering in a weakened state and she was comforting him. Perhaps because Caroline was forbidden territory made her a stimulating and tempting challenge.
War Eagle remembered during the last hot season how Cloud Chaser had said that Macha made his heart “sing loud.” He himself had jested, “I do not know of such feelings to this moon, but they must be powerful, for your eyes glow with flames like the fire’s and your voice becomes soft as the rabbit’s fur when you speak of her.”
He had not understood such emotions at that time, but since meeting Caroline, they had become as clear as mountain stream water to him. His second brother had advised, “Allow Wakantanka to choose your mate for you as He did for me and Wind Dancer and your spirit will soar as ours does and you will find great happiness and victory in your joining.” Yet, no Red Shield or other Lakota woman had drawn him as this white girl did. She made his heart “sing loud,” though his mind rebelled.
Had the Creator guided him to that location so he could find and lay claim to Caroline? How could a white woman be chosen as his mate? Why did his spirit soar as the eagle at one time and then plummet to the earth? How could he, son of the chief, grandson of their past chief, grandson of their shaman, a great warrior, a hater of bluecoats and white encroachers, desire one of the enemy? How could he take one into his life, arms, heart? Cloud Chaser’s final words to him filled his ears as if he were hearing them spoken again: “If we allow the Great Spirit to guide our steps, War Eagle, we must be willing to walk the path He chooses for us and at His pace. It was the same for Wind Dancer; Dewdrops walked into his life and heart when he did not expect such a glorious event. Perhaps it will be the same for you.”
War Eagle knew that he must not dishonor himself. He must not allow his strange hunger for Caroline to increase, though it was gnawing at him from head to foot. What if it drove him wild and senseless, and made him reckless and weak? No, it must not! It could not, for they were foes and strange’ and he was too strong-willed, a man of great pride and honor. How and why did she affect him so strongly? Should he throw away the gift in his medicine pouch or return it to her? A stimulating and distracting hunt was what he needed! He went to ask Swift Otter to join him, as the deer would be foraging nearby at dusk.
On the third evening in the camp, Caroline saw a warrior approaching, the same man who had worried her with his hateful stares upon her arrival. She quickly averted her gaze to the two rabbits roasting on spits over a fire beside the tepee. Macha was inside feeding her baby.
Cloud Chaser, who was sitting on a rush mat near the entrance as he worked on his weapons, looked up and watched his cousin nearing him. He noted that the man’s expression was stoic and his stride was purposeful. He could not imagine what inspired the unusual visit and was shocked when he soon learned the reason for it. He greeted the man in wariness.
Two Feathers announced, “I have come to trade for the white woman. I will give you two of my best ponies for her.”
Chapter Four
Cloud Chaser put aside his weapon and stood so the man would not be looking down on him. Being several inches taller, that action made him feel more confident for their impending debate, one he was resolved to win. “She is not for trade, my cousin. You hate whites, and you talked against her when she came.”
“Others did not accept my words of warning and our shaman spoke for her to live and stay, so I must side with them as is our custom.”
Custom, Cloud Chaser’s mind scoffed. It is our law that the majority vote must be honored by everyone, even those who opposed and voted against it. He was certain the decision stuck in his cousin’s craw, and the man was up to spiteful mischief. “Why do you want her?”
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