When we reached our own horses, Wawee’ne gave a whistle, and his horse started to follow. I called to Fire Cracker and Bandit, then we were careening across the grassland, heading back the way we came. I never felt more exhilarated in my life. I was laughing and crying at the same time with relief and elation. I looked over and saw that Wawee’ne was laughing too. I felt a strange bonding feeling toward him. I knew I could trust him now.
We did not slow our pace. We wanted to put as much distance between us and those Indians as we could. We let the horses run until they tired, and then we walked them at a steady pace. I lay the hobbles over the neck of my horse in front of the saddle as we continued at a slower pace.
The military saddle was nothing like any saddle I had ever seen. It didn’t have a horn or high pommel like western saddles usually had. It was more like an English saddle and very comfortable. More comfortable than riding bareback, I thought. I wouldn’t get horse sweat all over me now, I thought cheerfully. There was a round pouch connected to the back of the saddle and square saddle bags down either side of it in back. I idly wondered what was inside of them, but I figured the Sioux may have already removed their contents.
Wawee’ne did not stop. We continued through the night, and it wasn’t until we came to the river that he finally slowed, and he slid down from his horse. By that time, it was morning.
“Hobble horses,” he instructed me, I pulled the hobbles from the neck of the horse and did as he indicated. The horses started drinking from the river and then began eating grass. They all seemed as tired as I felt.
Wawee’ne lay his blankets down in the shade of a large cottonwood, so I also rolled out my cot-roll. I watched as he began removing his fringed shirt, and then his leggings, as he got ready to rest for awhile. Then I noticed him removing his moccasins and fumbling with the ties of his breach cloth, letting it drop to the ground. My eyes widened.
“I bathe now,” he said, looking down at where I was sitting on my cot-roll. “You come bathe too.”
I actually think I was scooting backward as I looked up at him, his body displaying his manliness in front of my virgin eyes. I just kept staring at him, trying to pull my eyes away, but unable to do so.
“I’m…I’m too tired,” I mumbled, turning down his offer.
“Do white people not like bathing?” he asked. “The red man bathes morning and night if there is water near,” he informed me.
“Do…do you plan to bathe twice a day now?” I asked with a shaking voice, knowing we would be following the river all the way into Wyoming.
He looked at me as though he couldn’t believe I was asking such a stupid question.
“You do not wish me to?” he asked, trying to read the horror that must have been reflected on my face, as I witnessed a nude man for the first time in my life.
“No….I…I was just asking. Water frightens me and there is quicksand in this river, is all. I do not wish to bathe right now.”
Maybe never, I thought to myself! Anyway, not as long as I was with him. He merely shrugged and turned to walk out into the river. I watched as his bronze body retreated to the edge of the water, looking over his shoulder at me once with questioning eyes, and then he waded out and began bathing in the river.
I found myself mesmerized watching him bathe. I did not feel ashamed. After all, he thought me to be a boy, and he didn’t act shy when he disrobed in front of me. Mama had never discussed men with me when I was growing up, and I never asked. I hadn’t been that curious, but now I suddenly found a strange interest in discovering the difference between his body and mine.
When he came up out of the water, rivulets flowed over his muscular skin. He slung his head, throwing water in all directions, then walked over to where his blankets lay beside my cot-roll. I watched him scoop up a small blanket and begin to dry his skin, oblivious to the interest I was showing. I sat there realizing that I could not continue to refuse to bathe during our whole trek since he apparently intended to do so twice a day. I just didn’t know how I was going to get around it? Eventually, he was going to discover I was a woman, and then what would happen, I wondered? I trusted him, but not if he discovered he was traveling with a lone woman, I thought.
I continued to watch him, thinking how attracted to him I was becoming. Not just because of how he looked at that moment, but the fact there were aspects about him that impressed me, like the fact that he didn’t scalp those Sioux because he knew I didn’t want him to.
He had a strength about him that drew me. He didn’t seem to fear anything. Not even death. I knew I would be safe with him. He had been willing to face several Sioux and risk his life to recapture the horses for the soldiers to show his loyalty to the white man. Certainly, he would also show his loyalty to me in the same way, I was starting to hope.
He lowered himself to the blankets, not bothering to replace any of his clothes, laying on his back and looking up at the cottonwood branches above us.
“We rest,” he said, turning his head and looking at me. I was still sitting, looking down upon his relaxed body, trembling inside, wondering what was going to happen when he finally discovered I was not a young boy as I pretended to be?
His hand reached out and pulled me down on my own cot-roll.
“Rest. Habinide,” he murmured, his strong hand tightening on mine as he encouraged me to lie down.
I lowered myself beside him. He was nerve-racking close to me. His eyes held mine.
“You safe now,” he whispered. “The Sioux will not follow.”
He had taken my shaking body as an expression of fear, but he had assumed the wrong thing that I feared. I felt his hand squeezing mine to reassure me. It only made me feel more frightened.
“Relax and rest,” he encouraged. “It is warm. You should remove your clothes too.”
“I am fine the way I am,” I mumbled.
He gave a low laugh.
“You are shy like my horse,” he smiled. “White people too modest. They wear too many clothes. The soldiers wear clothes under their clothes. Do you wear the long johns under your clothes?”
I shook my head and he chuckled.
“Good,” he mumbled. “You will be cooler, then.”
“Our religion teaches us to be modest,” I tried to explain.
Only I couldn’t remember the last time I was in a church. We moved around too much to attend church, but mama made me read the Bible aloud, to practice reading, so I knew all the Bible stories. I knew a man and woman was not supposed to look upon each other’s body, even after they were married. The only thing my mother had taught me about marriage was giving me the written rules of marriage given to her by the church she used to attend as a girl. I think that was her way of preparing me for marriage.
It was all very clear. The body was sacred. It was not to be looked upon by a man. Even a wife could not look upon her husband’s body. They were required to blow out the lamp at night when they got undressed and were to leave their underclothes on when sleeping together. A man was required to take his wife every night, though, until she conceived. Once that happened he was to leave her be. Copulation was only meant to bring forth souls into the world and nothing more. I wasn’t sure what copulation was, except that it was the way to bring forth children. The woman was not supposed to enjoy the act, and I didn’t know if the man was either, but the “act” had never actually been explained to me, so I wasn’t sure what that entailed?
Now I looked upon this man, in all his manly glory, lying unabashed beside me, and wondered what was so horrible about looking upon one’s husband? Wouldn’t he want to see his wife as well, I reasoned? Since I had turned my back on God, I wondered if I could turn my back on the written rules of marriage too? However, since I was not even close to being married, I tried to put it all out of my mind.
“We have modesty rules between a man and woman,” he explained. “A man is not allowed to touch a woman before marriage, and a young woman must be a virgin before entering marriage,” he
explained. “To look upon one’s body is not forbidden. Families often bathe together and sleep in the same lodge together. We do not wear clothes when we sleep.”
“What about Indians raping white women?” I asked, suddenly. “Isn’t that touching a woman’s body?”
“It is the rules of our society, I speak of. If we have slaves, or we capture women from enemy tribes, we can use them as we please. However, the Shoshoni have stopped taking women captive or raping them since the whites forbid it.”
That made me feel a little better when he told me that.
“Oh,” is all I said.
Then I couldn’t help myself, because I had become so curious, looking at him, and he thought I was a boy, so I asked.
“Do you know what copulation means?”
He gave a low laugh.
“Why do you ask me that?” he wanted to know.
“It is written in our rules of marriage, and it talks about copulation, only I am not sure what it means except for bringing children into the world.”
“It is like when animals breed,” he said assuming I was familiar with what happened with breeding animals.
I took in my breath, remembering when our mare mated with the wild stud.
“I…I hadn’t thought about it that way,” I murmured.
“Only with people, love is involved,” he said gently. “When you find a woman you love, you treat her gently. You show your love for her before you even try to bring on children,” he said softly. “Then when the time comes, you are slow and caring when you do it. You don’t want to frighten her so she will never wish you to do it again.”
“Are you married?” I asked suddenly.
“No,” he said flatly. “I am of age to find a wife. When I return to my village, I will look upon the women there. Perhaps I will choose a wife then.”
“How will you know if you want her for your wife?” I asked, suddenly becoming curious about how a person even knew they wished to marry someone?
“She will look upon me kindly. She will seek out my attention. She will come when I play love flute.”
“Love flute?” I asked.
“Love flute will lure woman who loves you to your side,” he explained.
“What if you play it and no one comes?” I asked.
“Then I wait for right woman to hear it,” he shrugged.
“It sounds so simple. I always traveled with my parents. There was never time to make friends or know if there was someone who loved you,” I mumbled.
“You are young yet,” he said. “There is time.”
I realized he thought I was a young boy, so I didn’t say anything.
“Still I can not bathe around you,” I said, taking in my breath. “I would feel too embarrassed,” I explained.
“You have seen me. There is no difference between us but age,” he said.
“I wouldn’t feel right,” I insisted.
“If it frightens you, I will give you privacy.”
“All right,” I mumbled, feeling a lot better.
“You rest now,” he said, removing his hand from mine.
When he pulled his hand away, I wished I could grab it again. The feel of his hand in mine gave me strength. He made me feel safe, and I thought about how he told me that a man should be gentle with the woman he loved. I had never thought about a wild Indian being gentle before.
I was so tired, though, I found my eyes closing and I immediately fell asleep.
CHAPTER FOUR
When I opened my eyes, the sun was high in the sky. It was starting to get hot. I noticed Wawee’ne was no longer beside me. He was at the river, with what looked like a makeshift spear. I came to stand beside him and he turned to smile.
“I catch fish to eat,” he told me.
I could see carp jumping up in the water in the distance, but there were none close to shore.
Suddenly, Wawee’ne made a thrust and his spear came up with a large blue catfish on the end of it.
“Lunch,” is all he said, with a smile, and we walked back to where he had already built a fire.
Like the snake, he placed the fish, after cleaning it with his knife, on a flat rock and placed it amid the coals. It made me glad he was with me. He seemed to know what he was doing.
After we ate the fish, we un-hobbled the horses and started on our way along the river again. I looked over at Wawee’ne. I felt much more comfortable around him now. We had gotten the horses back and I had helped him do it. It made me feel proud of myself. I felt like I had earned his protection and showed my own bravery by going with him when I had felt so scared.
I put the military saddle on Fire Cracker. At first he didn’t know what to do. He had never had a saddle on his back before, and he seemed frightened, but then Wawee’ne came up to him and breathed into his nostrils talking to him softly until he stopped shivering. I climbed upon his back and when he realized I was the one in the saddle, he started to calm down. Wawee’ne released him and swung up on his own horse.
All the horses followed along, since none of them wanted to be left behind. They seemed to know they should stick together. The military horses were well trained, and knew each other so they were not difficult to keep together. The Indian ponies were used to being on the plains, following their owners wherever they took them. They didn’t need any coaxing either. Since there was plenty of grass for all the horses to eat, we didn’t have much to worry about, as long as they did not wander away at night. However, the hobbles kept them close.
Fire Cracker kept shying at the sound of the saddle creaking on his back, but eventually, he got used to it and accepted the new conditions with me riding him using a saddle instead of riding him bareback.
This time, when we stopped and hobbled the horses, Wawee’ne rummaged through one of my gunny sacks and brought out the two hand guns I had.
“Show how to shoot,” he said to me.
I started laughing.
“I only shot it once and that was when I was trying to kill the snake. I never hit that snake, so I wouldn’t be a very good teacher.”
“We practice,” he smiled. “I see soldiers shoot guns before. It not look hard. Just aim and pull trigger.”
“What should we shoot at?” I asked.
“Cattails,” he suggested.
There were a whole row of them along the bank. I wasn’t sure I could hit anything as small as a cattail head, but I was willing to try.
I handed him a gun and showed him how to put the bullets in. That I did know how to do because the shop owner, where I got the gun, had shown me how to do it.
Wawee’ne and I began shooting at the cattail heads, making a lot of noise without hitting much. When I hit my first one, causing fluff from the cattail to fly out in all directions, I yelled in satisfaction. Apparently, Wawee’ne had practice aiming his arrow and understood the process. He started hitting cattails more often, and I tried hard to keep up with his score.
We laughed and yelled in elation when we managed to hit something. I had never had so much fun before. When we decided to quit, so we wouldn’t waste all the bullets, Wawee’ne started to hand his gun back to me.
“You keep it,” I said. “I stole it off someone who tried to take advantage of me. The other one I paid for.”
Wawee’ne seemed surprised I would give him the gun.
“I am humbled with gift,” he said, “I will make a holster with snake skin I kept,” he informed me.
He seemed excited putting the gun in one of his pouches on his horse. We ate left over fish from earlier, and then Wawee’ne started removing his clothes, getting ready for his evening bath. This time, I boldly watched him. I admired his well formed body, and the way his muscles rippled and flexed as he moved.
“You still shy to bathe?” he asked, when he noticed I was not making any effort to join him.
I nodded.
“Then go behind tree on other side,” he suggested, and I decided I should do it since it had been a while since I had soaked in th
e river and he would be busy taking care of his own needs.
I lay back in the water, staying close to shore because I was afraid of running into quicksand. I looked up through the branches of the trees as I floated on my back thinking about what brought me here and where it was all going to lead? Now I was glad Wawee’ne had found me. I had company besides having someone to find food for me and to protect me. I was thinking I would miss him when we had to part ways. Until then, though, I would enjoy his friendship and company.
When I came back to our camp sight, where my cot-roll was laid out, Wawee’ne was already there, stretched out on his blankets with his arms behind his head, looking up to the first stars that were starting to blink in the sky. I tried to ignore his nakedness, and laid down on my cot-roll beside him.
“Sometimes we fear what we do not know,” Wawee’ne mumbled. “In beginning you fear me. You not know who I am. You listened to stories in head about how bad Indians are.
“It is told that a group of young girls had to be left behind in hiding, as the tribe had to pack up and move quickly due to imminent danger. When girls came out of hiding and went in search of tribe, they came upon injured wolf. After nursing wolf back to health, they became adopted by entire pack of wolves, who saved them from danger many times, as girls continued search for rest of tribe. The warrior fathers, upon returning to find the girls, saw the wolves surrounding their daughters from a distance. Not understanding that the wolves were protecting their daughters, they slew them one and all. After being told of their grave mistake, they vowed to honor wolf as protector throughout time.
Gedi Puniku- Cat Eyes Page 5
