‘You look a little flushed. I hope you are not coming down sick with something.’
Once again, Dega tackled the mental task of translating. Coming was what a person did when they walked toward someone else, as when Evelyn’s mother would call her and Evelyn would reply, ‘I am coming.’ Down was the opposite of up. Coming down, then, must mean to go lower. But that made no sense, since they were headed up the mountain, not down it. Then there was the with something. With what? He was so confused, he did not know what to say, so he did as he often did when he did not want to appear stupid in her eyes: he looked at her and smiled.
‘I guess you are fine,’ Evelyn said. That smile of his always made her grow warm inside. ‘Do you ever get sick much? You and your family don’t strike me as sickly people.’
Dega was near panic-struck. He had forgotten what sick meant. To stall, he resorted to another of his tricks. He repeated what she had said. ‘Sick?’ Whenever he did that, she sometimes would talk more about what had confused him, and in the talking, make her meaning more clear.
‘Yes. You know. Sick as in ill. Fever, cough, the chills, those sorts of things. My family has hardly ever been sick. We are a hardy bunch, I guess. My pa says it’s because we spend so much time outdoors, and eat well. Back in the States it is different. There, people are cooped up in houses or apartments. They spend all their time inside, either at work or at home. They don’t eat as they should, either, and many of them are sickly. I wouldn’t want to live like that. Would you?’
Dega hesitated. Clearly, she expected an answer. A yes or a no might do, but which was the right one? If he understood correctly, she had asked if he would want to live like whites who spent all their time in their lodges and rarely ate food. Why they should do either was beyond him, but since neither appealed to him, he answered her honestly. ‘No.’
‘I didn’t think so,’ Evelyn said. She gnawed on her lower lip before saying, ‘It’s funny how life works out. There was a time when I could not wait to grow old enough to go live in the States on my own. I wanted nothing more to do with the wilderness. Can you believe that?’
Dega was spared another mental wrestling match. She went on without waiting for a reply.
‘I thought civilization had more to offer. Clothes you can buy off the rack and not have to make yourself. Food you can buy at a general store or eat cooked at a restaurant, and not have to shoot it and cook it yourself. Carriages to ride around in. The theater and socials. It was all so grand to me.’
‘Grand?’ Dega said.
‘I know, I know. I was kidding myself. I found that out when a woman who hated my family kidnapped me. I told you about that. I learned the hard way that there is a dark side to civilization.’ Evelyn shuddered, recalling the terror of those times. ‘I learned, too, that civilized life is not as carefree as I imagined. I guess it is true that we always think the grass is greener on the other side of the fence, but it isn’t.’
‘Fence?’
Evelyn grinned. ‘Oh, never mind. I’m just prattling. Why don’t we keep going? We can be at the cliffs in an hour, and with luck we will see a few mountain sheep.’
That was the reason for their outing. The other day she had spotted several high on a cliff to the north, moving specks against the backdrop of rock, and pointed them out to Dega. He then mentioned that he had no idea what they were, as there were no mountain sheep, or mountains, where he grew up.
Evelyn had been quick to propose they ride to the cliffs so he could see them. She mentioned, to be polite, that if he wanted, he could bring his family along, but he said that he doubted they had any interest in making the long ride just to see animals jump around on rocks.
Unknown to Evelyn, Degamawaku had not been entirely truthful. The People of the Forest were keenly interested in all wildlife. To them, animals were not mindless brutes fit only to be slain and eaten, but fellow creatures that existed by virtue of That Which Is In All Things, and as such, worthy of respect.
A cardinal belief of the Nansusequa was that they must always strive to live in harmony with all living things, and to that end, the more they knew about their fellow creatures, the better able they were to achieve harmony.
Dega’s family would very much have liked to make the outing to the cliffs—but he never mentioned it to them. He only told them he was going for a ride with Evelyn. He did not mention the mountain sheep because he wanted to be alone with her.
As Dega watched her mount and head on up the slope, riding with that unconscious natural grace she possessed, a constriction formed in his throat. He had to look away for fear she would glance back and read his feelings on his face.
Degamawaku was in love. At least, he thought it was love. He had never been in love before, not this kind of love, so he had nothing to compare it to. He pined for her when they were separated and dreamed of her when he was asleep and saw her face float in the air before him every minute that he was awake.
It scared him.
Dega had always imagined that when he one day fell in love, the woman would be Nansusequa. They would live in the lodge of his father, and raise children together, and life would be as it had always been for him and his people. He never considered marrying a woman not of his tribe, and he never, ever entertained the faintest notion that the woman he would fall in love with would be white.
For weeks now the two of them had spent nearly all their free time together. They had become fast friends. She was a wonderful companion, easy to talk to, always lively and interesting, and so lovely.
Dega could not say when, exactly, he began to think of her as more than a friend, but one day he woke up after dreaming of her, his skin hot and prickly and his throat dry, and he knew a change had taken place.
‘Dega? Are you listening?’
Shocked that Evelyn had spoken to him and he had been too absorbed to notice, Dega glanced up. She had slowed. He promptly did the same. ‘I be sorry. You speak?’
‘I asked if you heard that twig snap,’ Evelyn said, and pointed at a thicket above them and to the right.
‘I not hear anything,’ Dega said.
‘There is something in there. I am certain.’
As if to prove her correct, the thicket crackled and out ambled a black bear cub.
‘God, no!’ Evelyn cried, and raised her rifle.
Five
Spotted Wolf called an early halt for the day on the bank of a stream dotted by cottonwoods. The women went to gather wood.
Earlier in the day Tall Bull had dropped a doe with an arrow. Of late, their fare had consisted mainly of rabbit and other small animals, so they were looking forward to juicy deer meat.
Tall Bull, helped by Tangle Hair, did the skinning and butchering. The boy was fond of intestines and cut off a small section to chew on while they worked.
Careful to move his hair so he did not sit on it, Spotted Wolf sat cross-legged and watched everyone. His rifle was across his lap.
Twilight had about given way to night. The women got a fire going, and the splash of light held the dark at bay.
Spotted Wolf listened to the sounds of the prairie and heard nothing out of the ordinary. All was as it should be. He had been worried about the whites they encountered, but there had been no sign of them. By now, he assumed, the whites were well up in the foothills. He hoped they ran into some Blackfeet. That would teach them to be so arrogant.
The aroma of the roasting meat made Spotted Wolf’s mouth water. The others were staring at the haunch on the spit, eager to eat. Tangle Hair was chewing on yet another piece of intestine.
Soon Buffalo Calf Woman announced the meat was done. Spotted Wolf ate leisurely, tearing at the succulent flesh with his strong teeth and then slowly chewing, savoring each piece. When at length he was done, he licked his fingers clean.
Tangle Hair continued to eat long after the rest of them.
Now came the favorite part of Spotted Wolf’s day. Opening his parfleche, he took out his pipe and his bag of tobacco. The t
obacco was his most prized possession. As a member of the Tobacco Society, this year it was his turn to lead the sacred Tobacco Ceremony. Only members of the Society planted and harvested tobacco.
Spotted Wolf filled the bowl of his pipe and prepared to smoke. As if by unspoken agreement, the rest gathered near, and Tangle Hair, as he did every night, said, ‘Tell us a story.’
‘Which story?’ Spotted Wolf asked him.
‘How the world was made,’ the boy said, his eyes aglow. ‘I like that one the most.’
Spotted Wolf puffed on his pipe, drawing the smoke deep into his lungs. A sense of peace and contentment spread through him. ‘Long ago there was no land. Only water, and four ducks. One day the maker of all that is, Old Man Coyote, came across the four ducks. ‘Which of you has more courage than the rest?’ he asked them.
‘One little duck said that he did. Old Man Coyote told him to dive to the bottom of the water and bring up some mud. The duck dived and was gone a long time. When the duck came back up, it had mud on its beak. Old Man Coyote held the mud until it was dry, then blew on it. Land spread across the world, and since that day has shared the world with water.’
‘What if the duck had not reached the bottom and brought dirt back up?’ Tangle Hair asked. ‘Would there be any land?’
‘Who can say? That is a good question, though.’ Spotted Wolf waited, and when no one else had a comment, he went on. ‘The ducks requested of Old Man Coyote that he make more. ‘There are just the four of us, they said. ‘Where are other livings things that we might share the land and the water with them?’
‘Old Man Coyote blew on the dirt again, and the first man and woman were formed. These were the first Crows. They were naked but did not know they were naked because they were blind. Old Man Coyote opened their eyes, and the first thing they did was ask for clothes.’
‘I would have asked for a lance or a bow,’ Tangle Hair said, ‘so I could protect myself from my enemies.’
‘The Crows had no enemies then,’ Spotted Wolf reminded him. ‘There were no other people.’ He paused. ‘Next, Old Man Coyote blew on the dirt, and from it came all the plants and animals. Among them were the buffalo. Old Man Coyote showed the man and the woman how to kill a buffalo and which parts to eat and use.’
‘That is why there are so many of them,’ Tall Bull interjected. ‘So we will never be in want.’
‘The buffalo will always be,’ Spotted Bull agreed. ‘And as long as they exist so will the Crows.’
‘Tell us the story of the boy who could lift buffalo,’ Tangle Hair requested.
Spotted Wolf smiled. It was a favorite of the young. ‘Deep in the mountains live the Little People. They live in caves. They want nothing to do with us or any other tribe and keep to themselves. Because of this, we do not know a lot about them. Two things, though, we do know. One, they are great with the bow, and can shoot a pine cone out of a man’s hand at fifty paces. The other thing that we know is that they are so strong, any one of them can pick up a buffalo and carry it on his shoulders.’
‘To be that strong!’ Tangle Hair marveled.
‘One day the Crows were on the move. As they went through the mountains, a baby fell from its travois and no one noticed. The baby was asleep. It did not wake up until the Crows were far away. It was hungry, and it began to cry, but there was no one near. Except the Little People.
‘They gathered around the baby and talked about what to do. Some wanted to leave it there since it was not one of theirs. But others of the Little People said it was only a baby, and how could they leave it to die? So it was that they took the baby and raised him as one of their own. They fed it the food they ate and dressed it in the hides they wore.
‘At first the child was weak and a lot of bother. But the Little People did not give up, and a change took place. The child became as they were. It became immensely strong, could run as fast as they do, and as an archer he was without equal. From time to time he came to live among the Crows for a while, but he always went back to the Little People. He would go on buffalo hunts, and to see him pick up a buffalo left everyone in awe.’
‘I would like to hear about his fight with the beast that would not die,’ Tangle Hair requested.
Spotted Wolf regarded the stars and sniffed deep of the wood smoke. ‘Tomorrow night. We must get an early start. We need our rest.’
‘I will sit up first,’ the boy offered.
Normally, Spotted Wolf and Tall Bull would keep watch. But since their trip had been uneventful, except for their brief run-in with the four whites, they had been letting the boy take a turn.
‘Keep a sharp eye, son,’ Tall Bull instructed. ‘If you hear anything unusual, anything at all, wake us.’
‘I will, Father. You can depend on me.’
Later, as Spotted Wolf lay with his wife’s cheek on his shoulder, he caressed her hair and asked, ‘Are you ever sorry we did not have more children?’
Buffalo Calf Woman raised her head to look at him. ‘Have you been drinking the white man’s firewater?’
Spotted Wolf chuckled. Among his people there was a saying: The Crow who drank firewater was no longer a Crow. ‘I am serious. Do you wish we had more?’
‘Three was enough,’ Buffalo Calf Woman said, settling back down. ‘I almost died with the last one.’
Spotted Wolf remembered and shuddered.
‘Why do you ask? The boy?’
‘He makes me think of how it was when ours were his age,’ Spotted Wolf admitted. ‘They were good winters.’
‘Yes, they were,’ Buffalo Calf Woman said. ‘But now our hair is turning gray, and there will be no more talk of more children.’ She paused, then raised her head again. ‘Unless you want to take another wife. Is that what this is about?’
Rubbing her shoulder, Spotted Wolf replied, ‘One woman is all I could handle. I am happy with you.’
‘Are you certain? I have seen how Moon Woman looks at you when she thinks you will not notice.’
Spotted Wolf laughed. He did not make any noise. He simply lay there silently laughing, his entire body quaking. Moon Woman was notorious among the Crows for two traits: she hated men, and she was as big as her namesake. The idea of her being interested in him was preposterous.
‘You must be sick,’ Buffalo Calf Woman said. ‘You have chills.’
Spotted Wolf laughed even more. When at last his mirth subsided, he grinned at her and said, ‘I knew there was a reason I took you into my lodge.’
‘I thought it was my cooking.’
‘You are a fine wife. Have I ever told you that?’
‘Once a day for forty winters.’
‘Has it been that long?’ Spotted Wolf said. ‘Sometimes it seems like only yesterday that you caught my eye. Have you been happy with me?’
‘We have had a good life, husband. Had I to live it again, I would do the same.’
Spotted Wolf closed his eyes. The feel of her warm body against his, the crackle of the fire, soon lulled him into drifting off. He could not say how long he had slept, although it was quite a while, when a sound brought him out of the dream world into the world of the living. Right away he knew that something was wrong. He glanced toward the fire.
Tangle Hair was sprawled on the ground, blood trickling from a gash in his temple.
Spotted Wolf started to sit up but stopped when metal clicked and the muzzle of a rifle touched his forehead. ‘No you don’t, chief. Stay right where you are if you know what’s good for you.’ He looked up into the cold, flat eyes of the white man called Bodin.
The mulatto and the one with muscles stood over Tall Bull. The fourth white man stood well back where he could shoot anyone who resisted.
‘I bet you’re surprised to see us again, huh, chief?’
‘I hoped I would not,’ Spotted Wolf said. Buffalo Calf Woman mumbled and stirred and went to sit up, but he held on to her, whispering in her ear, ‘Do not move. We are in a bad way.’
Tall Bull was still asleep. The white
man with muscles jabbed him in the neck with the barrel of his rifle and he sat up, glancing about in confusion while groping for his bow and quiver.
‘Are these what you are looking for?’ the mulatto asked, and tossed them into the dark.
‘Take furs. Go,’ Spotted Wolf said to Bodin. ‘They what you want.’
‘How would you know?’ Bodin retorted. Smirking, he took several steps back. ‘You are in for it now, chief, and that is no lie.’
Spotted Wolf felt about for his rifle, which had been next to him. It was gone. Then he saw it, in the grass behind Bodin. ‘Hurt us and my people hurt you.’
‘That trick worked once, but it won’t work again,’ Bodin said. ‘We’ve been watching your back trail, chief. There are just the five of you. No one else.’
‘When they find us dead, they hunt you.’
‘By then we will be so far away, they will never find us,’ Bodin declared. He sidled to the packs, squatted, and ran his hand over the hides. ‘Soft as a baby’s backside. When we trade them, we’ll get good value.’
‘Take furs. Go,’ Spotted Wolf repeated.
‘You haven’t been paying attention, chief. The hides aren’t all we came for. We came for fun, too.’
‘Fun?’ Spotted Wolf said.
Bodin nodded at the mulatto, who went over to Tangle Hair, smiled down at him, then, with lightning quickness, drew his knife and buried the blade between the boy’s shoulder blades. The thunk was loud and ugly.
‘Tangle Hair!’ Tall Bull cried, and pushed to his feet, or tried to. He was only halfway up when the white with the muscles smashed the butt of his rifle against Tall Bull’s head. Tall Bull collapsed, his limbs twitching. Owl Woman also tried to rise but was seized by the hair and flung onto her back.
‘Where do you think you are going, squaw?’ the one with the muscles demanded. ‘Each of us gets to take a turn with you. We drew straws, and I’m first.’
‘No,’ Spotted Wolf said softly.
‘Oh, yes, Injun,’ Bodin gloated. ‘And he likes to make them scream when he does them.’
Buffalo Calf Woman swept from under the blankets with her knife in her hand. She thrust at Bodin’s throat, but he dodged and saved himself by the thinness of a hair. In doing so, he tripped over Spotted Wolf’s rifle. She flung herself at him. Her knees came down on his stomach, whooshing the breath from his lungs. For a moment he was limp and helpless, and she raised her knife overhead to slay him.
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