by Adair, Mary
James turned to glance into Dancing Cloud's eyes. He quickly looked away knowing that the others would see his forwardness as an insult, but he hoped his old friend would see his fear for the Cherokee people.
"Each person affected by this disease must find the strength within himself to overcome it. If he does not find the strength he will die, and all his belongings must be burned because the spirit that causes the illness will live on his blankets in wait for another to touch them. Only a person who has suffered the illness and lived will be able to care for the sick and not become ill as well.
"I am such a one. The only scar that I have is the one on my face," he raised a finger to the small circular scar at the side of his face. "And the one on my arm," he showed a much larger scar on his forearm.
"I am fortunate this is all the illness did to my body. I have seen others whose faces were covered with such marks. I will care for The People of Chota Town. I will fight the illness, but for the sake of the other towns, no one from here must enter through their gates. We must defeat the spirit of small pox here, within these walls."
"I hear what my brother says with my heart," Deer beat a fist against his chest. "But the towns must be warned. Our medicine men must be ready to fight this evil spirit. And they must know to shut their gates. How will they know if we do not send a runner?"
Dancing Cloud turned toward the crowd, "My ears tell me that each warrior speaks from his heart and wants only what is best for The People. A runner must be sent to warn the other villages against visitors and alert the medicine men to begin their prayers."
James stood perfectly still as a young boy of about thirteen summers stepped forward. He recognized him as Runs Far, a young boy who had proven to be their fastest runner and was showing promise of some day being a great warrior.
Dancing Cloud laid a hand to Runs Far's thin shoulder. "You must go to Tellico, but you must not enter through the gate. Call out to the Wolf on the gate and tell him they must not allow visitors and that their medicine men must began their prayers. Then return here."
At that moment the runner to their village, which had been all but forgotten, collapsed and James' last thread of hope that the village had not been infected broke.
He turned again to the chief, "You are right. The People do need to be warned. We now know that the illness is among our village, but Runs Far may not be affected. If he returns to us he must camp outside our walls until it is again safe for him to enter."
James glanced down at the boy and saw anger and embarrassment etched into his young features. Even at his age the boy showed a warrior's pride. Loudly he added, "We will need someone who is brave and unafraid to guard our outer walls and do battle with any of our enemies from without while we fight the enemy from within."
The boy stiffened his spine and smiled smugly. His honor had been restored.
Dancing Cloud nodded in approval. Panther had learned well the gentle speech.
Silent Deer's eyes were drawn to the panting boy who, without meaning to, had brought the evil spirit of death into their village. He nodded his agreement.
Dancing Cloud raised his long spear high above his head and announced to the village, "Runs Far will now leave on his finale test of manhood." He turned to Runs Far. "You leave us as a boy. You will return to us a warrior!"
All the warriors raised their arms and sounded the cry that befitted a young man embarking on a trial that could end his young life or mold him into a warrior and protector of his people.
Runs Far ran from the crowd and quickly gathered the few items allowed on a journey of manhood. As he proudly ran through the gate the loud cheering of the warriors followed him to give him honor and encouragement. Once the boy was out of sight of the village the whoops silenced and all turned back to their chief.
Dancing Cloud watched the young boy as he sat cross-legged and shivering on the ground and knew that this illness was indeed powerful.
James spoke up, "Let me take the boy to my medicine hut at the back of the village."
Dancing Cloud looked at the boy through misty eyes, "You may take the boy, Red Panther, but our medicine men will come to pray over him."
Panther stooped down and scooped the boy up into his arms. The heat of the boy's fever burned into his chest and his heart contracted as he looked into eyes that shone bright with the fever.
***
As the weeks passed the entire village lay in the cruel grasp of the illness. Young and old alike died faster than the death ceremonies could be performed. The low, sad mourning songs of death and lost loved ones were sung without ceasing.
The medicine men tried all the cures and chanted all their prayers, but still The People died. Some of the medicine men burned their holy instruments thinking they were contaminated with evil.
The whole village held the stench of illness and death, and the black curling smoke from the charred homes and cherished belongings of the ones who traveled the hanging road to the village of their ancestors. Surely the spirit of death held the village in its grip.
The ones who managed to survive the onslaught emerged scarred. Many of the survivors were not only scarred on their bodies, but in their minds as well.
James wept as he remained at the side of his blood brother through the days of high fever and the nights of anguished struggles with demons that only Deer could see.
Finally Deer's heart became weary and his struggles became prayers for the spirits to take his life and leave him in peace. When this did not happen, he swore to end it himself.
In a desperate attempt to save his friend from himself James ordered all sharp objects removed from his lodge and placed a guard to watch him when he had to be away.
Silent Deer looked down at his arms and snarled at the sight of the scars on his body. Panther had talked for hours in his attempt to ease Deer's heart about the scars.
Were not scars on a warrior's body beautiful to behold? Were they no proof of his strength and cunning? Deer had fought the evil of the white man's disease and had lived. Was not the scars proof of his strength?
But the scars ran deep within Deer. They touched his soul and lay heavy in his heart. To him they were not beautiful. They were a warning. The People were allowing too many of the white man's ways into their lives.
Only Panther had ever urged them to keep sacred their ways. All other white men tried to tell them that their ways were not correct, that they were uncivilized and unclean in the eyes of the Great Spirit.
How could their ways not be correct? The Principal People were one with their brothers and sisters of nature. They cared for one another; sustained one another. They listened to the spirits of the air and followed their dreams. The People had been happy in their existence, as had been their fathers and there fathers before them.
The white man spoke only lies and Deer knew within his heart that this was only one of many evils to come to them from the white man. There would be more to follow. The scars on his body were not a declaration of a battle fought and won, but of a battle lost and prisoners marked. Deer knew he did not have the strength in his heart to go on.
He raised a trembling hand to his deformed face, a face that had once been more beautiful than any other. A face that held eyes that were as sharp as an eagle's, a nose that was broad and proud, lips that were well defined, full and ever truthful in the words that they spoke.
He felt the moisture on his cheeks as his fingertips roamed over the dips and hollows of his once smooth skin. No longer would he be able to stand proud among his people.
The scars would cause them to turn their faces at the sight of him. The children would run in fear of the one they used to pretend to be in their games of war. No longer would he be Silent Deer, most beloved and beautiful warrior. He had been made ugly and unclean by the white man's filthy disease.
His eyes searched the dark interior of the lodge. He stepped over the prone body of the one sent to guard him from himself. Yellow Blanket would wake up soon; he had to fin
ish this now.
His numbed fingers slid around a vertical pole in the wall to wrap around another pole he had long ago hidden there. It was his remembrance stick.
He ran his hands along the carving on the hard wood. His first hunt was there, his rights to manhood, the first time he'd seen Morning Star. He would have offered a bride price for her this spring. A smile curved his swollen lips.
Maybe he would have kidnapped her, the way Panther had taken New Moon. Morning Star had such a sweet heart; she would have liked that. He drew in a ragged breath. He did not know if Star had survived the evil that the white man caused to befall them. And if she did live, would she turn from him because of his disfigurement or because of her own?
Deer wedged one end of the long remembrance stick into the ground and tilted the pointed end until it touched him at the base of his chest where his ribs came together.
A tear slid down his face as his hand stroked one last time along a stick of remembrance that held all the dreams and hopes of one young warrior, for himself and for his people.
Chapter Twenty-seven
James rode slowly up the bend that led to Beau and Rain's home. It was Indian summer and the bite of frost hung in the morning air. He shivered. It was the emptiness in his heart that made him feel cold. He should have been able to enjoy the crisp air, the sounds of raccoon chatter before they settled down for the day, the sounds of birds chirping as they greet the sun. None of these things held pleasure for him today.
He saw smoke curling above the treetops. Rain and New Moon were preparing breakfast. New Moon would be as glad to see him as he would her. He needed her. He needed her to heal his wounds and comfort his soul.
He wondered about the baby who would have been born by now, and smiled. His baby would help his heart to heal. He nudged Eagle to a faster pace. This journey had taken too long.
Beau waited a few feet from the house. Panther pulled in on the reins and looked down at him. The look on Beau's face told him he would not like what he was about to hear.
"Where is New Moon?"
"She's inside. I didn't want to be the one to tell you this Colonel..."
James drew in a deep breath as he tilted his head back and looked up at the slowly drifting clouds. "It's the baby, isn't it, Beau?"
"The child lived for ten days. She was just too small and weak to survive. It's best this way."
Hot tears rolled uncontrolled down James' cheeks as he thought of New Moon. She had suffered so much, lost so much. He should have been here with her. Swinging one leg over his mount's neck and slid down to the ground.
"Take me to the grave." James dropped the reins and followed Beau from the clearing and a short way into the forest where a small pile of rocks marked the tiny grave.
A vision of Akachee's hands, fingers sawed off in sorrow, came to James. "You didn't let her…I mean she didn't…hurt herself?"
"No. She didn't. But she's taking it pretty hard." In silence the two looked down at the small pile of rocks. James knelt down and placed a hand to one of the smooth stones. His tiny daughter lay beneath the hard, cold stone.
"It's all just so unfair," Beau mumbled mostly to himself.
James rose up and let his eyes skim over the horizon. "Whoever told you life was fair? It's only life and death. Anything in between is what you make of it."
James turned and walked from the grave. He would bring New Moon back next spring to retrieve the bones of their daughter, if that was what she wanted.
He and Beau walked to the small cabin. His soft moccasins made no sound as he stepped onto the porch. It seemed appropriate. The only sounds of mourning for his daughter were the sad chirping of a cricket, and the haunting cry of a faraway whippoorwill.
New Moon saw Panther's shadow and felt his presence behind her. Would he hate her because of their daughter's death? Would he blame her strong spirit? She placed the wooden bowls she had just washed on the shelf in front of her and turned to face her husband. Panther stood so stiff, so far removed.
Her heart lurched and she almost lost her composure. So badly she wanted him to hold out his arms to her. She did not feel like a warrior now. She only wanted to be Panther's woman. She wanted to fly into his arms and for him to hold her tightly against his chest and ease all the pain, but he didn't offer her the comfort of his arms.
New Moon wrapped her own arms around herself and raised her chin the way she always did when she felt threatened.
James let his eyes drink her in. She was thin, too thin. Her black eyes looked too large for her face. James saw the slight tremble of her lip and wanted to rush to her, to take her in his arms and make all her hurt go away. But he couldn't make her hurt go away any more than he could make his own feelings disappear.
He saw the tilt of her chin and his gut tightened with sorrow. She blamed him for making her leave her home. He could see it in her eyes, in the way she refused to come to him.
Gentle Rain looked from one to the other. "New Moon is ready to go," she offered into the uncomfortable space.
"You have honored us by allowing New Moon to stay in your lodge," James answered, his voice sounding hollow to his own ears, but he meant what he said.
Gentle Rain lowered her lashes in acceptance of the compliment.
"Come New Moon," he continued, "We have far to go before sunset."
New Moon picked up the heavy buffalo robe, the only thing, other than her baby, that she had brought with her. As she followed Panther from the cabin her gaze drifted toward the woods where her tiny daughter's body lay in the cold soil. Old Woman's words drifted through her mind. "They will take much that is dear to us away."
New Moon knew that her child was not really there beneath the earth, not her spirit, not the part of her that her mother would always carry in her heart. She would draw as much comfort from that thought as she could.
Panther's eyes met hers for a brief moment before he picked her up and sat her onto Eagle's back. Then he swung up behind her and turned Eagle away from the cabin.
New Moon sat straight and stiff until James wrapped his arm around her and pulled her back to rest against his chest. He pulled the robe around them both. She could feel the heat of his body seep through the doeskin she wore and she wanted to turn and wrap her arms about him. She wanted to tell him she was sorry that she had been unable to keep their tiny daughter alive long enough for him to see her.
But she could feel his withdrawal from her. If he would but listen to her she would tell him about the soft black hair that curled about her face and about the tiny full lips that would never suckle at her breast. She bit into her lip as she fought the sobs that wanted so desperately to break free from her heart.
She didn't know what she could or should do. The pain at losing her daughter was great, but even greater was the pain she felt by Panther's rejection. She dreaded returning to Chota Town. She feared there would only be more sorrow there, but she would be home with her people.
She could not understand a white man's withdrawal from pain, and so could not understand why her warrior could not share his pain with her and allow her to share her pain with him.
The only thing, she decided, was to wait. Let him mourn in the way of the white man. Then, maybe, he would turn again to her.
It took many days to reach Chota Town, but finally they were there. Eagle plodded slowly through the gate. New Moon tried not to look at the charred ruins of the lodges of her friends. The villagers, realizing that she returned without her child, lowered their heads in understanding as they passed. She felt their pain and they felt hers. For the first time since the death of her child she felt comforted.
Eagle stopped in front of their lodge and James slid to the ground. He reached up and helped New Moon down. The silence was slowly killing him. He could no longer take the pain of her silent condemnation. He led Eagle into the small corral as New Moon entered the lodge.
James gripped the wooden gate until his knuckles turned white and began to ache. He could wait
no longer for her to come to him.
He turned and walked to the lodge. As he entered New Moon looked up. The anguish she felt showed on her face and he knew it reflected his own pain.
"New Moon."
"Yes, husband."
James ran a trembling hand through his hair. He was so very tired. "I am sorry about the baby. Please don't blame me for sending you away. I could not have survived losing you to the smallpox."
New Moon looked deep into his eyes as she stepped closer. Her own eyes suddenly spilling the tears she had been holding back. "I do not blame you, my beloved," she sobbed and James gathered her into his arms.
"Do not blame yourself," she whispered. "I had to do what was best for our child. It was best that I leave Chota. I would not have left for any other reason."
"Do you hate me for not coming with you?" His hands caressed her back.
"I could never hate you, Panther," his name came out in a soft sigh to be answered by his own deep moan close to her ear.
"I will never send you from me again." He buried his face at the base of her neck as his chest heaved painfully. They held each other as they wept.
New Moon slid her fingers through his hair and pulled his mouth to hers. Her lips were warm and firm, her breath intoxicating as she breathed life back into his broken heart.
James was first to break the kiss. "I thought you blamed me. You can't imagine the pain I felt."
"Yes, I can. I felt it too. Our daughter was not happy to be here, but she is happy now. I thought your pain was so great you needed time to forgive me. That is why I held back from you. I wanted to give your heart time to heal."
James rubbed his hands up and down her back, "You are my heart, remember? We will have another daughter, and a son, as many as you want. But never stand back from me, Little Wa-sa. Never hold yourself from me again. If you don't know what I'm thinking, ask me. If you don't know how I'm feeling, ask me. I never want to feel this pain again."
"I promise."
His lips claimed hers with a passion too long withheld. He ravished her mouth while he slid her dress up with trembling hands, and broke the kiss only long enough to slip it over her head and toss it aside.