Brindle's Odyssey

by Nicholas Antinozzi

Stump Nose seemed to follow her everywhere. Man Killer grimaced when he and his wicked mother began to set up their campsite next to hers. They were nearing the head of the Brule and their summer camp; Sugar Bush. Everyone was very happy because their journey had been blessed with good weather and few problems. Man Killer could not find that happiness. She had a big problem that seemed to be growing with the passing of each sun.

  The day had been beautiful and the afternoon sun was fairly hot on their skin. Man Killer should have been happy, and would have been, if it weren’t for Stump Nose. He had begun leering at her the way the other men leered at their wives before the darkness came. The look frightened her and she knew that she had to think of a way out of the trap. She thought about telling the truth, but who would listen? Wind In Her Face was already planning their wedding ceremony and she was a loud talker. Man Killer’s hands shook when she first heard the old woman telling No Tongue of the fine buckskin shirt she was making for her son.

  Man Killer went about her business and tended to the day’s injuries, which were nothing out of the ordinary. She checked on the babies, making sure that they weren’t getting chewed up by the biting insects. A nice breeze had followed them on their journey and it had blown most of these insects deep into the woods. The sick appeared to be getting better and the wounded seemed to be healing, all of which added up to a very successful journey to the summer camp. She thanked the Great Spirit for this and while she did, she asked something for herself. Man Killer had never done such a thing and she felt funny doing so. She was healthy and the band was doing well, despite what had happened during the Dead Winter. Prayers were not to be wasted, and was her problem worthy of prayer? She certainly thought so.

  Her old canoe was holding up quite well under the circumstances. She patched a few holes, neither of which was bigger than a tick. She then coated the bottom with a thin coat of the leftover wautab and left her canoe in the sun for it to dry. She was running out of things to do and she dreaded the idle hours. How she longed to spend time with the little orphans, but they were being looked after by nursing mothers, which left her out of the mix.

  She glanced over at Stump Nose and much to her horror, she found him staring at her and he gave her a knowing smile. There was a huge gap where his two front teeth should have been, which did nothing to help overshadow his great crumpled nose. There was also something not quite right with his eyes--- they were set too far apart. Man Killer imagined little Stump Nosed children running around and she felt the revulsion in her throat. She turned away and walked down to the river, pretending to look for berries. A minute later she found herself staring into the eyes of two sandhill cranes. They were less than two feet away from her and they did not give an inch.

  “Fear not,” said the nearer of the two long-legged birds. “We have come here to help you.”

  Man Killer quietly gasped and held her hand to her mouth to stifle a scream. From her earliest days, she remembered the stories of the strange birds. They were said to hold the spirits of the Mide Men who had passed on to the next world. While she believed this to be true, she had never expected one to actually speak to her.

  “It is true,” said the other crane in a soft voice. “You are going to be needed very soon. You must be ready to act when the time comes. Do not worry about the ugly one. Things will be different before you know it.”

  Man Killer looked around and saw no one. “Thank you,” she whispered, bowing her head. “I knew the Great Spirit would hear my prayers.”

  The cranes looked at each other for a long moment. They then flew off toward the setting sun. She stood there and watched them fly away, her heart pounding hope into her thirsty soul. She stood there a while longer, absorbing this hope and wondering about what had been said. Had she been dreaming?

  “Who is the ugly one?” Stump Nose asked from behind her, causing Man Killer to jump.

  “What are you doing?” hissed Man Killer after she had collected herself. “Why do you keep following me?”

  “Why did the cranes speak to you? Who do they call the ugly one, my mother?”

  Man Killer didn’t think they had been referring to his mother, but she let it pass. “How dare you interrupt the work of the Mide? Have you no shame? Speak of this to no one. Now, let me be. I wish to be alone to watch the sunset.”

  “I am not going anywhere until you tell me about the cranes.” Stump Nose said, driving home his point by smashing an anthill with the sole of his moccasin.

  “I will ask them to send a bear to feed on your throat while you sleep. Do you want that?”

  Stump Nose lost some color to his face and he swiveled his head a few times. “You can do no such thing. You are a Mide Woman, not one of the Mide Men. You have no such power.”

  Man Killer grimaced. She fought to think of a reply to this, but something spoke on her behalf. “Oh, yes she does,” growled a husky voice from just behind her. The voice was so close that Man Killer could feel the hot breath on her neck.

  Stump Nose’s jaw dropped and his face went nearly white. He began to back away slowly, ever so slowly.

  “I’ll be watching you,” snarled the voice.

  Man Killer spun on her feet and saw nothing except a few jittering branches. There was a loud crash and then there was nothing. When she turned around she found that Stump Nose had fled. And for the first time in so many days, Man Killer smiled.

  Huck