Plenty Proud

by Jeanie P Johnson

  Plenty Proud took two small shoulder blankets from their supply of blankets and brought them to the river’s edge, so the two would have something to dry with before they got dressed again. He stood for a moment watching them, trying to settle his thoughts about the two. Finally, he returned to the camp and took a tin of beans, which he first opened with his knife, working it around the edge of the tin, after punching it into the lid, and placing it to heat on a rock he had set in the fire. He also brought out a package of crackers. The new modern convenience of storing food in tin containers, which were available with the goods at the trading post, was one white man’s invention Plenty Proud enjoyed. He had nothing to put the beans in, though, so they would have to share the can between them, using a buffalo-horn spoon he had with his supplies in his pouch.

  By the time the beans were warm, the two girls had returned from the river, their hair still damp and dripping water. Plenty Proud used an old headband taken from his pouch, and wrapped it around the tin of beans, so it could be held without getting burned. He took a spoonful of beans for himself, and then passed it on to Mackenzie. The touch of her finger tips against his own, as he passed the tin to her, caused sparks to travel through his hand and up his arm warming him in a way that excited him. She, in turn, took a bite and passed it to Little Bird. They continued passing the tin around between them and eating crackers, while waiting for it to come back to them. Once the tin was empty, Plenty Proud rose to his feet.

  The two girls watched as he strolled leisurely down to the river, with his shoulder blanket, and began shedding his clothes. Then he wadded out into the water. Mackenzie could not help but admire his muscular back and strong thighs as her eyes watched him in the same way his eyes had been watching her earlier. She noticed that Little Bird was also watching him with the same intent gaze as herself.

  Now Mackenzie turned and studied the Indian maiden’s face, curiously detecting that the girl must have feelings for the Indian brave. At first, she thought the girl was his sister, but no sister would be looking at her brother bathing in the way this young woman was. Mackenzie began wondering what kind of relationship the young woman had with him. Perhaps she was his wife, and that was why she seemed so nervous and a little abrupt when they were bathing together in plain sight of Plenty Proud. She couldn’t understand why the thought bothered her. It could be the Indian maiden was merely Plenty Proud’s cousin. That thought made her feel better.

  “Is he your brother?” she asked Little Bird hesitantly, knowing full well that he wasn’t but wanting to make sure.

  Little Bird turned and looked at Mackenzie, giving her a smug smile. “No,” she said boldly. “He is to be my husband. He came to bring me to his village. Once we are there, I will become his wife.”

  Now Mackenzie felt guilty for her unreasonable interest in the Indian. She turned away, feeling embarrassed and ashamed of herself. “Oh,” was all she could think of to say.

  When Plenty Proud approached the campfire, he could sense a change in the white girl’s demeanor. While Little Bird smiled happily up at him as he reached them, he saw the redhead had her back to him and was occupying herself by pulling some blankets out of her sack. She was acting skittish again, and nervous, where before she had started to relax around him and had smiled at him several times while they ate. He wondered if Little Bird may have said something to her that upset her. He couldn’t understand the sudden change in the way she was acting.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked. The sound of his voice caused Mackenzie to jump.

  “No, no, of course not,” she mumbled as she worked at straightening the blankets out on the grass beside the fire on the other side, away from where Plenty Proud had placed his and Little Bird’s blankets.

  “Why you put blankets here? We must sleep close to stay warm,” he told her. “Fire go out before morning.”

  “Oh,” she said, sounding surprised. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  Plenty Proud picked her blankets up and placed them beside his blankets. “You act frightened of being near me,” he mentioned.

  “Oh, no, I am not frightened. I just didn’t want to get in the way of you and your… woman,” she told him.

  Plenty Proud paused. He hadn’t actually thought of Little Bird as his woman. It was just the wish of his mother that he should make her his wife.

  “Little Bird not my woman,” he said softly. “I take her to be adopted by my family. Her family in Other-side Camp.”

  “Where is Other-side Camp?” Mackenzie asked, wondering why Little Bird had told her she was promised to Plenty Proud, while he claimed no such thing.

  “It where people go when they die. “Little Bird’s mother was my mother’s friend. That why we adopt her.”

  “Oh, I am sorry to hear Little Bird lost her parents, only she said she was to become your wife,” Mackenzie stammered. “I just assumed…”

  “My mother would like her to be. I not decide yet. You not in way, Petaile, (pay-dah-ee-lay)” he insisted, patting her shoulder.

  Mackenzie couldn’t understand why it made her feel so relieved to learn the girl may not become his wife after all. Soon she would be departing with the trappers if she could find any who would take her. She most likely would never see either of them again.

  “What did you call me?” she asked, not understand the Sioux word he had used.

  “Petaile… It mean Firelight,” he interpreted. “Your hair like firelight,” he explained.

  “My name is Mackenzie,” she told him.

  “I call you Petaile,” he murmured.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  As the fire burned down to coals, Mackenzie found herself snuggling closer to Plenty Proud, who had placed himself between the two girls when they had settled down to go to sleep. He had been right, she thought, sleeping close was helping to keep her warm. Plenty Proud sat up and tossed more wood on the fire, watching it flair up again. The fire cast a soft glow on the face of the girl beside him. He watched as the light from the flames danced in her hair, causing it to look as though it was on fire too. He knew it caused his heart to feel like it was on fire every time he looked at her.

  Gradually, he lowered himself to a reclining position again. He couldn’t help himself from putting his arms around the girl and pulling her closer to him. She gave a small whimper and stiffened.

  “Leave me be, Griz,” she muttered, pushing away from him.

  Plenty Proud immediately pulled his arms away. In her sleep she must be thinking he was Griz, the trapper she was trying to escape from. It made him start to understand the reason for her fear of the trapper. Plenty Proud reached his hand out and pushed Mackenzie’s tangled hair out of her face. She smelled clean and fresh now and her hair felt so much softer beneath his fingers.

  “Hush,” he whispered at her whimpering. “Griz not here. I protect you.”

  Mackenzie’s eyes flashed open, first in fear and then they softened as his face came into focus, illuminated by the firelight. For one, long, breathtaking moment they merely stared into each other’s eyes. Then Mackenzie moved closer to him, allowing him to replace his arms around her.

  Plenty Proud let out a long breath, which ruffled Mackenzie’s hair, causing goosebumps to form on her skin. She gave a little shiver, and he held her tighter, resting his cheek against the pillow of her curls. “You safe now,” he murmured into her hair.

  Little Bird raised her head. When she saw the way Plenty Proud was holding the strange white girl close to him, it pierced her heart. He could not want that filthy woman whom he didn’t even know. She had been dirty and smelly before he insisted she bathe, which told Little Bird the girl had no hygiene. The Sioux people bathed morning and night to assure being clean, before their Great Spirit, and yet, white people called them ‘filthy heathens’. Now Plenty Proud wanted to embrace a white person as though she was one of his own. She started to shiver in fear of losing his attention and him not agreeing to take her as his wife after all. It was not fair, she cried ins
ide. The white girl needed to go!

  When Mackenzie opened her eyes again, it was light. Plenty Proud was no longer beside her. She looked across the space where he had been sleeping only to meet the angry, dark, eyes of Little Bird. She wondered why the girl was upset. Something was wrong and she didn’t know why. She looked to the river to see Plenty Proud coming from its bank. His hair was damp, and she realized he must have been taking an early morning bath. She thought it strange since he had just bathed the night before.

  While she believed in cleanliness, it was customary to bathe once a week, and wash your body down with a cloth each night in between. However, that was because it was difficult to haul water and heat it for a bath. Griz had been stingy with bath water because they had to melt snow during the winter for water and it was time consuming to melt that much snow. She supposed if you lived next to a river, one could bathe as often as they pleased. She just wondered what the Indians did in the winter when the river was frozen, or just freezing cold. As it was, the river now was rather cold, being early spring and she had been eager to bathe quickly and get out of the river when she and Little Bird had braved the river the evening before.

  When Little Bird saw Mackenzie was awake, she shrugged, got up from the blankets and went to the river herself to bathe once again. Mackenzie sat and watched her, but saw no reason to follow her down to the river to take an unnecessary bath in the early morning cold water. Instead, she warmed herself by the fire, which Plenty Proud must have built up again, before he went to the river.

  When Plenty Proud returned to the fire, he gave Mackenzie a smile and then began to collect the blankets, placing them on the saddle frames of the two horses he had hobbled the night before. She busied herself by folding up her own blankets and stuffing them in her sack and then handing it to Plenty Proud. She hoped he did not expect her to go and bathe again. She felt perfectly clean. Maybe it was some spiritual Indian ritual, she thought, as she watched Little Bird returning to the fire, but since she was not an Indian, she saw no reason to follow suit. Little Bird looked chilled, Mackenzie thought, smiling inside as the fire warmed her.

  Little Bird gave Mackenzie a disapproving glance, and raised her eyebrows. It was just as she thought. White people cared little about keeping their bodies clean. No wonder the girl had smelled so bad! Plenty Proud would surely see the folly in bringing this questionable stranger with them.

  By the time Little Bird had returned to the camp, the horses were ready and the pouch had been packed and secured to the saddle along with Mackenzie’s sack. Plenty Proud gave them each a piece of meat jerky to eat, put the fire out, helped Little Bird up on her horse, and then placed Mackenzie up on his own horse.

  Little Bird savored the feel of Plenty Proud’s hands on her waist, as he helped her onto her pony, Hate, (Ghahn-day) meaning Juniper. However, when she looked over and saw how easily he lifted the white girl up onto his horse, and then leaped up behind her, placing one hand on her hip, as he urged Fly Away forward, the joy of that touch seemed to shrivel into oblivion.

  She paused before she kicked her own horse, causing Juniper to leap forward to catch up with Fly Away. As Little Bird came abreast of Plenty Proud, she looked over at him begrudgingly.

  “Why do you bring that white girl with us?” she demanded, in their own language, frowning at him. “She is dirty! She doesn’t even bathe to greet the morning. She does not pray to the Great Spirit Wakan-Tanka (Wahn-kahn-Dahn-kah), upon rising. She has ugly hair and can’t even speak our language. You have no duty to her!”

  Plenty Proud looked a little scathingly at Little Bird. Even though a wife could scold her husband and put him in his place, Little Bird had not gained that status yet. She was acting like it was agreed between them that she was his woman, when nothing had been decided one way or the other. Although the women in his tribe often gave their opinions and even shared their wisdom with the men or berated the braves when they fell short of their honor, which was tolerated by them, he had not done anything to deserve her tongue lashing. He felt she was being rude to the woman he wished to help. In fact, he was being honorable by helping the girl, and Little Bird did not seem to appreciate it.

  “This woman needs my protection,” he repeated, since she seemed to have forgotten the reason he told her he was bringing the girl along. “She wishes to go to her own home, but must find a way to get there. We follow the river. If we come upon trappers, traveling on the river, they may help her. If not, it is my responsibility to keep her safe as long as she is with us. I am sorry you do not like the looks of her hair,” he muttered back, then looked away, showing his disdain for her words.

  Little Bird swallowed hard at the gruff sound of his voice. However, she was relieved to discover Plenty Proud was only helping the girl find a way back to her own home, which meant the girl wouldn’t be with them for long. Even though Little Bird did not like the way Plenty Proud looked upon the young woman, she decided once the white woman left them he would turn his attention to her, the way she had expected him to do from the beginning.

  When Plenty Proud started to hand out more dried meat, as their journey progressed, Mackenzie offered to share her fresh fruit with them. At the end of the day, once they stopped to camp along the river again, she offered to share her pickled eggs and canned fish. The Sioux did not usually eat fish, but Plenty Proud decided to be gracious and accept her offering, rolling the key to the square container that pulled the top free. He noticed that Little Bird screwed up her face when she ate the fish, but did not complain.

  Once again, Little Bird headed towards the river to prepare to bathe, but this time, when Plenty Proud saw Mackenzie lingering at the camp, he took her hand and led her down to the river himself. Little Flower was already in the water, and Plenty Proud started to remove his own clothes.

  “Come, Firelight, you must bathe with us,” he encouraged. “My people bathe often, to purify themselves before the Great Spirit, Wakan-Tanka.

  At first, she hesitated. Her eyes widened when Plenty Proud showed no modesty as he disrobed before her, offering her his hand. Her eyes took in the look of him, while she tried not to blush, and then she shrugged. Griz had seen her bathe before, and she would much rather have this handsome brave looking at her than Griz. Besides, she was sure he had been watching her bathe the day before, just as she had watched him. She pulled her dress up over her head and kicked her moccasins off, following Plenty Proud into the river.

  Once again he took her hand, leading her down into the river beside him until they were waist-deep in the water. Mackenzie tried not to shiver with the chill of the water. When Plenty Proud saw her trembling, he realized she was not used to bathing in the cold river like he and Little Bird were and that was why she had been hesitant to bathe. It was no wonder she did not eagerly wish to bathe. He placed his arms around her and pressed her against his own warm body.

  “You will get used to the cold,” he assured her, delighting in the feel of her body next to his.

  Little Bird looked over and saw the way Plenty Proud was holding Mackenzie against him. It was not a pleasant sight, and she could feel her temper flaring. She quickly finished bathing and hurried back to the fire, smoldering inside, believing that Plenty Proud was not only betraying her, but he was betraying his own people by being bewitched by the white woman the way he seemed to be. She must have some unknown magic to entrap Plenty Proud in a web of desire, Little Bird decided. It made her all the more certain that the sooner the woman left them, the better!

  As Mackenzie and Plenty Proud came from the river, Plenty Proud reached down and picked up one of the shoulder blankets he had brought with him and wrapped it snuggly around Mackenzie. Then he proceeded to dry his own body before dressing again. He smiled encouragingly at Mackenzie, and she gave a little shiver, not from the cold, but from the way Plenty Proud was looking at her. She lowered her eyes, turning her back to replace her dress over her head.

  Once they were both dressed, Plenty Proud walked beside Macke
nzie back to the fire. Little Bird was already sitting on her blankets watching them approach. She tried to smile, pretending like it did not bother her that Plenty Proud was so engrossed in caring for this unwelcome guest. Plenty Proud sat down on his blankets and pulled Mackenzie down beside him. They all sat quietly, gazing into the fire.

  Plenty Proud sat with his legs crossed, studying the fire, and then he began to speak.

  “We have many legends in our tribe,” he said. “I will tell you the legend of the Faithful Lovers.” His eyes took on a misty appearance and he spoke softly, as he continued to gaze into the fire.

  “There once lived a chief's daughter who had many relations. All the young men in the village wanted to have her for wife, and were all eager to fill her skin bucket when she went to the brook for water.

  “There was a young man in the village who was industrious and a good hunter; but he was poor and of a mean family. He loved the maiden and when she went for water, he threw his robe over her head while he whispered in her ear:

  “ ‘Be my wife. I have little but I am young and strong. I will treat you well, for I love you.’

  “For a long time the maiden did not answer, but one day she whispered back.

  “ ‘Yes, you may ask my father's leave to marry me. But first you must do something noble. I belong to a great family and have many relations. You must go on a war party and bring back the scalp of an enemy.’

  “The young man answered modestly, ‘I will try to do as you bid me. I am only a hunter, not a warrior. Whether I shall be brave or not, I do not know, but I will try to take a scalp for your sake.’

  “So he made a war party of seven, himself and six other young men. They wandered through the enemy's country, hoping to get a chance to strike a blow. But none came, for they found not one of their enemies.