Little Flower

by Jeanie P Johnson

  “Yes, he is my namesake. His mother was killed by a cougar, he was the only puppy left that hadn’t gotten killed,” he told her. “I knew you would love and take good care of him.”

  Rags sniffed at the puppy, but didn’t seem very interested.

  “Thank you so much, Gray Wolf!” Little Flower cried, clutching the puppy to her breast.

  “Will you agree to become my woman?” Gray Wolf asked, as he sat beside her and put his arm around her waist while she cuddled the pup to her.

  “What will your father say?” she mumbled, giving a little giggle when the pup licked her nose.

  “My father and mother love you. They think of you as their own daughter. They would want you to remain with us in our lodge forever as part of our family. They will not lose you to another brave like they would if you did not choose me. Say you choose me, and I will ask Father’s permission to take you as my woman and my wife.”

  “You know my answer already,” Little Flower smiled. “Only it can’t happen until after the Sun Dance, can it?”

  “I cannot take a wife until I become a man. You have already gone through the ceremony of the virgins and have become a woman, ready to stand beside the man who chooses you. I choose you and since you choose me too, Father will give us his blessing.”

  “I do love you,” Little Flower breathed, as she threw her arms around Gray Wolf’s neck after putting the puppy down to ramble about and explore the tall grass.

  “I have loved you from the beginning,” Gray Wolf told her. “Something drew me away from the village that day. I didn’t know why but I decided to follow the feeling and there you were, hidden among the flowers like one of the little people had brought you there for me.”

  “You have taken good care of me all these years,” Little Flower smiled. “I wish for you to take care of me for evermore,” she told him.

  “You know I will do that!” Gray wolf exclaimed, hugging her tighter to him. “Only for now, I have to bring you back to the village. Father and some of the other Chiefs are going into Fort Laramie to trade. They want you to come with them to help translate and barter for them. Everyone is always impressed with you because you are a white girl living with the Sioux and your beauty softens their heart to offer a higher price for our trades. They trust us because they see how happy you are to be with us.”

  “Are you coming with us?” Little Flower asked. “And can I bring Rags and the puppy? I shall call him Lucky because he was lucky he did not get killed and lucky that you found him.”

  “I am the lucky one, for having someone like you,” Gray Wolf laughed. “Yes I am coming and we shall bring Rags and Lucky if you wish. Several families are going together. Merry Morning will come as well with her family. Then I will talk to her and make her understand that you are the one I wish to have for my wife.”

  “Thank you, Gray Wolf. You are always so kind to me. Merry Morning was very upset when she heard you threw woman medicine at me.”

  “She will get used to the idea, eventually.” He looked a little worried though, because he knew he and Merry Morning had been promised as children and he wasn’t really sure if his father and Merry Morning’s father would release that promise. The Sioux valued themselves for keeping their word. His father might lose face if he broke that promise.

  Gray Wolf bent down and scooped up the puppy, trying to push the worry aside. Then he took Little Flower’s hand and walked beside her down to the village, with Rags at their heels making slow progress. From a distance, Merry Morning stood watching them. Determination was in her eyes. Plans were playing in her head. Anyone watching could tell she had no intention of ever letting Gray Wolf take Little Flower for his wife.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The small group of Sioux pulled travois’ behind their horses, laden with pelts, Indian jewelry, and wool Indian blankets labored over by women of the tribe. There were also buckskin clothing that the trappers liked to wear and would trade for. Fort Laramie, situated, it seemed, in the middle of nowhere, offered goods such as sugar, tobacco, calico cloth, iron pots wooden and metal utensils, flour, salt, and salt pork, along with a lot of other goods that were now becoming more and more part of the Sioux’s own daily use. The party of Sioux approached the fort, which was a box-like structure in the middle of a clearing, standing with its tall, white-plastered walls, glistening in the sun. The river, in the distance, meandered and wound its way into the wilderness, accented with the greenery of trees and bushes that clung to its banks.

  As they looked down upon Fort Laramie, they were greeted by the view of many Sioux Teepees that were scattered about the fort, as though they were seedlings thrown out to spring up about the outer wall. Some of the tribe members liked remaining close to the fort for convenience sake. They were friendly with the white people, and many of the Teepees there, belonged to trappers who had married Indian women.

  Many, who knew the group of Sioux approaching the fort, came out to greet them, waving happy hands, raised in their direction. It appeared that a small group of covered wagons with their dingy, white, canvas bonnets, belonging to white travelers, had gathered there too. They had pulled closer to the river nearby, their cattle and horses grazing along the lush, green bank.

  Fort Laramie supplied wagon trains that came through the area as well as trappers and Indians, alike. It was understood that anyone using the fort had to remain civil to any other traveler there, or they would not be permitted to trade. Sometimes, the travelers had things that the fort did not furnish, which gave the Indians more opportunity to exchange goods with the travelers for firearms, horses, or cattle they no longer wished to take with them. They sometimes had extra ammunition and gunpowder for the long-guns or making bullets they were willing to trade as well, with a little persuasion from the Indians.

  Little Flower looked over at Gray Wolf. It was hard to read his features. She knew he had been arguing with Merry Morning and Merry Morning was riding at a distance from them. Her expression was quite clear. She was unhappy, and every once in a while, she would stab Little Flower with a glowering look. Then her eyes would settle upon Gray Wolf, it seemed with determination in her gaze. This worried little flower.

  She and Gray Wolf had barely spoken during the long journey to the fort. Now that they were there, it would give them little time to discuss anything since she was expected to help translate for the Indians and make good bargains with the men running the fort.

  The group made their way through the large doors of the fort, which were open for those trading there, but could be closed to shut the fort up safe and secure on the off-chance of an attack by enemies. They all climbed down from their horses and Little Flower hitched up the sling she had placed over her shoulder to carry Lucky in, as she gazed about her at those gathered there. Rags was following behind, his tongue hanging out, as he plodded beside Starfire, which Little Flower was now leading behind her.

  Little Flower noted the group of white travelers watching them with wide eyes. She looked at the long dresses the women wore and almost remembered when she had worn the same kind of dress billowing around her ankles. It had been the very reason she had lost her balance and fallen, all those years ago. She noticed the long, flaxen, hair of one of the women, and her heart took an unexpected leap. It reminded her of her mother’s hair, she thought. She had almost forgotten what her mother’s hair looked like. The unexpected memory brought it vividly to mind as it shot through her.

  In the beginning, when she first started coming to the fort to help translate, Little Flower had searched through the faces of white people, hoping to find the familiar face of her mother or father. Now, she didn’t think she would actually recognize them, even if she saw them. She had given up hope of ever seeing their faces again, only she couldn’t stop herself from the conditioned habit of looking for them. Therefore, her eyes, once again, roved over the stranger’s faces milling about the fort. Only now, she no longer held her breath or had a glimmer of hope she would see them among the travelers.
She almost felt indifferent, because it was something she had done so many times before without any results.

  The faces smiled back at her, looking surprised when they recognized that she was a white girl dressed in Indian clothes. A couple of women talked excitedly among themselves, pointing at her, as though she was on exhibit. Little Flower abruptly looked away. She wondered what they were saying, but she really didn’t want to know. It was just an idle thought. She merely wanted to get the trading over with so she could relax, and later, talk to Gray Wolf about their plans for the future after the Sun Dance.

  Chief Beaver and other tribesmen, who had jumped down from their horses, were unloading the travois’, carrying their goods, into the main building, where the trading would take place. Inside the fort walls, clamor from bustling activity surrounded them. Blacksmiths were clanging their hammers against metal in the stalls where horses could get reshod. Some travelers were repairing wheels from their wagons. People trading cattle were leading their stock to holding pens.

  The fort seemed overly crowded with a din of noise and confusion filling the air, but Little Flower was used to it. This was not the first time she had come to Fort Laramie, and it wouldn’t be her last. She followed Chief Beaver into the main building, hugging her new puppy to her, as he rested in the sling. Rags looked about, but he too was used to this visit to the fort. He stayed close to Little Flower’s heels.

  Merry Morning did not follow the group into the main building. She had paused hearing the low voices of two white women talking. Little Flower had taught her enough English to understand many of the words, and the word “Daisy” caught her ear. She knew Little Flower’s white name was Daisy, which was why she paused to listen.

  “I swear that girl dressed in Indian clothes reminds me of Daisy,” one woman was saying to the other. “You know, she got lost while we were on our way to California, and I got blamed for it because I was supposed to be keeping an eye on her. She had dark hair and blue eyes, just like the girl leading the white horse, with that ragged looking dog following her.”

  “Honestly, Becky, how could you even remember? You were both children at the time,” the other woman replied.

  “Her parents offered a reward for anyone who managed to find her, only no one knew what had become of her,” Becky continued.

  Merry Morning turned toward the two women. When they noticed her staring at them, they started to turn away.

  “No, wait,” Merry Morning managed to say, trying to remember the right words. “You know a girl called Daisy?”

  “Yes!” Becky replied, surprised that the Indian girl spoke English and knew who Daisy was. “She was lost when she was only five years old.”

  “I too know Daisy. We call her Little Flower. She in my tribe. She one you point at.”

  “My word!” Becky exclaimed, eyebrows shooting up, her hand covering her mouth, eyes wide in disbelief. “Her father will be so happy to discover she is still alive!”

  “You know Little Flower father?”

  “Yes, he has been searching for her for years.”

  “Is father here?”

  Becky shook her head. “No. He is in California, but we are on our way back to California. Daisy should come with us!”

  “No, she not go with you,” Merry Morning informed her. “You send father. Chief Beaver say let her go if father want Little Flower back. He must pay ransom first. ”

  “I should talk to her,” Becky insisted.

  “Not wise. She may run hide, then father never find her.”

  “She loves living with the Indians that much?” Becky sounded astonished.

  “Gray Wolf wants her for his woman. He keep her from you if you try talk to her. Tell father come to fort, ask for Chief Beaver village. He find her there. Tell him bring ransom.”

  “How much?” Becky asked.

  “One hundred, two hundred, white man gold.” She gave a shrug. “Maybe more.” Merry Morning had heard of other white captives that had been returned for ransom and remembered the price.

  Merry Morning turned quickly and scurried into the main building hoping no one saw her talking to the white women.

  Becky stared after her. How strange, she thought. She wanted to speak to Daisy, but didn’t want to make a Sioux brave angry at her, so she went back to her wagon to join her husband. She was even afraid to tell him about what had happened, for fear he would ruin everything by trying to approach Daisy. She was determined to collect the reward, and didn’t want anything to prevent Mr. Radford from coming to collect his daughter from the Indians. A few hundred dollars for ransom was nothing to Mr. Radford. He had offered much more than that as a reward to find his daughter.

  Little Flower turned to see Merry Morning coming through the door. She had a peculiar expression on her face. In fact, she believed that Merry Morning actually looked happy. She was showing white teeth produced by the smile that split her face. Her eyes were glued to Little Flower. Such a change from earlier, Little Flower thought. What had happened to make Merry Morning seem so excited? She quickly glanced at Gray Wolf. She hadn’t been paying attention to what he had been doing while she was discussing prices with the men behind the counter. She suddenly wondered if he had been talking to Merry Morning, and what they exchanged made Merry Morning happy, for some reason.

  “Little Flower,” Chief Beaver repeated for the second time. She seemed distracted, and he needed to get a good price for his goods.

  Little Flower jerked her head back and started bargaining for the price Chief Beaver was interested in for the pelts and other trade-goods they were offering. Payment would come in horses, material for making shirts, and food-stuff. Chief Beaver had already noticed a horse in one of the holding pens that had caught his eye. It was up to Little Flower to seal the bargain, though.

  Gray Wolf always felt proud of Little Flower for her help in getting good prices for their trades. The men at the fort liked her, and those eyes of hers had a way of melting people’s hearts. Especially his own heart, he thought. He caught a glimpse of Merry Morning out of the corner of his eye. She was just coming through the door. She looked straight at him and the way her eyes pierced him, made him feel uneasy.

  Earlier, she had been angry at him for wanting to take Little Flower as his woman. Now her features were calm, too calm for his liking. He darted a quick glance at Little Flower, because that was the direction Merry Morning’s eyes had turned. Merry Morning was smiling pleasantly at Little Flower. That made him all the more suspect; only he didn’t quite know why.

  Little Flower was glancing at him now, a worried look distorting her usual pleasant features. He could tell she felt uncomfortable about something too, and he was sure it had to do with Merry Morning. He wondered what Merry Morning had said to Little Flower to upset her.

  Merry Morning sidled up to Gray Wolf, pretending to be looking at an assortment of cooking pots and pans, set out on crates that contained more of the cookery collection.

  “What makes you feel so happy?” Gray Wolf asked, casually as she neared him.

  “I have decided to forgive you,” Merry Morning stated. Her eyes slid over his handsome face, thinking what it would be like to become his woman. “It could be you and Little Flower are suited for each other. She is very pretty, if you overlook her crazy eyes.”

  “I have always loved Little Flower and her crazy eyes.” Gray Wolf smiled. “Of course we are suited. It was meant to be. The Great Spirit led me to her. She was lost. Anything could have happened to her if I had not come there and found her.”

  “Then I wish you happiness together,” Merry Morning smiled, knowing full well that whatever happiness Gray Wolf or Little Flower were hoping for, would soon be snatched from them. It was right that her real parents take her back, Merry Morning justified to herself.

  “I thank you for your blessings.” Gray Wolf said, but he still had a feeling there was something unusual about Merry Morning suddenly changing her tune after the argument that passed between them earlier.
“The Sun Dance will soon be performed. There is much preparation I must go through for it first, though. Then I will be a man and have permission to ask my father to let Little Flower become my wife.”

  “I am sure he will be happy you chose her,” Merry Morning shrugged. Even though she was smiling at Gray Wolf, the smile didn’t touch her eyes.

  Gray Wolf looked up and saw Little Flower coming towards them. “Is the trade agreed upon?” he asked, as she approached.

  “Our father is collecting the horse he was hoping to get and the others are loading the travois’ with our other choices of goods,” she informed him, happy to have the haggling over with at last.

  “Then come walk with me down to the river to cool ourselves in the shade there,” Gray Wolf suggested.

  Merry Morning started to follow, but one glance from Gray Wolf caused her head to lower and she turned away in another direction, glancing over her shoulder, envy and jealousy gripping her very being. She tried to smile. She hoped that Little Flower’s father came to collect her before the two could be tied together. Otherwise Chief Beaver may now allow her father to take her.

  Little Flower let Lucky out of the sling, once they left the gates of the fort and headed towards the river, allowing him to romp and tumble around her feet, as rags lagged behind. They stopped from time to time exchanging greetings with some of the Indians camped about the fort. Then their footsteps led them down to the river, not far from where the white travelers had their wagons parked.

  Little Flower watched as a group of white children were skipping and playing close by. It reminded her of her youth, when she was like those children, playing close to the banks of the river while they camped and the women prepared the food. It was hard to believe that she once was a part of a group like that. She felt no connection to them now, she realized. She actually thought of herself as a Sioux, not a white person.