Instead of registering shock, Eric knit his brow and remarked, “I must be daft. That actually makes sense to me. It’s almost poetical.”
“You’re learning, son. Slowly but surely,” Shakespeare said.
Within the hour the women and children arrived leading the packhorses that would tote the meat and hides back. Since the stallions and geldings used in warfare and hunting were far too valuable for such menial labor, they were never employed as beasts of burden. Often they were pampered to the point of being spoiled. Warriors always fed them more than the pack animals received, giving them the best grass or other feed. They were also well watered and groomed daily. Some trappers liked to joke that Indian men fussed over their horses more than they did their wives.
Butchering was a joyous time. The women sang while they worked. Older children helped while the small ones gamboled about. Everywhere the warriors held their heads up proudly and told of their prowess during the hunt.
Winona and Zach had tagged along when the mass exodus from the village occurred. Together with Nate and Shakespeare, they cut up the buffalo the two mountaineers had slain.
Nate was surprised to see Diana Templar and Jarvis ride up. They stayed long enough to see the butchering begin; then Diana addressed the giant and they both wheeled their mounts and left. Nate figured Lady Templar had been squeamish over the gory toil the Indians were doing, until he happened to spy Eric Nash helping Morning Dew and her mother carve up a cow.
Night fell before the work was completed, and the Mandans made camp right there on the plain. Fires were lit to ward off predators and scavengers, and everyone stayed up late talking. The next day, promptly at first light, the work was resumed.
Once again Eric Nash spent his time in the company of Morning Dew and her mother. From what Nate could tell, Four Bears had no objections. In fact, the chief was very kindly disposed toward the Englishman. Before the butchering was done, Nash had received a fine red blanket and a new knife as tokens of the chief’s friendship. And often Four Bears would seek Nash out to try to teach him some of the Mandan tongue.
The Indians worked swiftly out of an eagerness to reach their village; they were all looking forward to the upcoming feast. The days after a buffalo hunt were spent gorging themselves, and compensated for leaner times of the year when they sometimes had to do without meals for a day or two.
On entering the palisade, the first order of business was to have fires started and meat racks built. Young and old joined in. The village dogs, who rarely ever had enough to eat, knew from past experience what to expect and were in an excitable state. To them would be thrown the scraps, enough to fill their bellies to the bursting point.
All was going along smoothly. Or so Nate thought until late in the afternoon, when the Mandans were congregating in the central plaza for the great feast. There was a commotion ahead outside of a lodge. Men were shouting and waving their arms. A woman screamed shrilly. Nate, in the company of his wife, son, and mentor, was near the dwelling and craned his neck to see the cause of the disturbance. What he saw set his blood to racing. For locked in a life-and-death struggle on the bare earth, rolling over and over as they grappled tooth and nail, were Jarvis and two warriors.
Chapter Twenty-One
Suddenly the three men stopped rolling. One of the Mandans had an arm looped around Jarvis’s throat from behind and was trying to throttle the life from him, while the second Mandan was striving to pin the giant’s huge arms so Jarvis would be unable to defend himself. They were both smiling grimly, confident of victory. But they reckoned without the ex-soldier’s enormous strength.
Jarvis wrenched his right arm free and smashed a massive fist into the face of the warrior gripping his other arm, sending that Mandan flying. Then, twisting sharply, he reached back over his shoulder, seized the other brave by the hair, and swung the Mandan up and over as effortlessly as a normal man might fling a little girl’s doll. The Mandan smacked into the earth with a sickening thud and lay there, dazed.
Nate saw other warriors fingering their weapons, and before any of them could move to aid their fellows he rushed forward and touched the barrel of his Hawken to the giant’s temple just as Jarvis was rising.
“What the bloody hell, mate?”
“If you value your hide, don’t move!” Nate cautioned, bobbing his head at the ring of warriors to accent his point.
Jarvis was in a crouch. He scanned the crowd, read their mood, and perceived the gravity of the situation. “Tell them I didn’t start it,” he said. “Those two blooming bastards did!”
“Why?” Nate asked.
Just then there were loud voices toward the rear of the encircling Mandans, who parted to permit Four Bears, Stalking Wolf, and Shakespeare McNair to advance. The high chief stared somberly at the two Mandans who had participated in the fight, then at Jarvis.
“What the hell went on here?” Shakespeare inquired.
“I don’t know yet,” Nate replied, lowering his Hawken.
The giant stood.
Mato-tope addressed the two warriors, one of whom spoke at length, often gesturing angrily at Jarvis and almost as often at an attractive woman in a trim buckskin dress standing meekly to one side. The other said only a few words. Turning to Nate, the chief signed, “I would like to hear what White Tree has to say about this.”
White Tree was the name the Mandans had bestowed on Jarvis. Nate relayed the request, adding, “And don’t leave out a single detail. All of us are in trouble here. If you caused this, the chief might see fit to throw us out. Or worse.”
“There’s not much to tell. I was minding my business near the lodge I’ve been staying at when this wench” Jarvis pointed at the attractive woman “came up to me, took me by the hand, and led me to this here lodge.” He indicated the dwelling behind them. “She wasn’t shy about why she’d brought me, and we were having a go when these two blighters jumped me.”
“Back up a bit,” Nate said. “Do you know this woman?”
“Sort of. Her name is Blue Flower, I think. She was one of those I had the other night during that fertility ceremony or whatever the hell it was.”
“I remember,” Shakespeare interjected. “She and you went off by yourselves twice. The first time her husband asked you to take her, but the second time he didn’t look none too happy about it.”
“Then you knew she was married when she came for you today,” Nate said severely, thinking of the implications for all of them.
“What difference does that make? Her husband let me have her the other night.”
“That was a special occasion,” Nate explained. “The rest of the time the Mandans don’t allow such goings-on unless the husband has given his permission.”
“How was I to know? No one told me.”
Nate seized on that point when detailing the giant’s statements to Mato-tope. When he concluded, the chief interrogated the woman involved, Blue Flower, who hung her head in shame and answered in the barest of whispers.
Murmuring erupted among the onlookers. Mato-tope faced the offended husband and berated the man harshly for over a minute. Surprisingly, the warrior offered no protest. Finally the chief gestured. Both husband and wife went docilely into their lodge. Tears were rolling down Blue Flower’s cheeks, and once the pair had vanished from sight her voice could be heard as she cried out in pleading tones.
“What the devil is happening?” Jarvis demanded.
“We’ll know in a moment,” Nate said.
His expression grave, Four Bears gave a speech using sign. “My people, it is a sad day when the Mandans shame themselves before their white friends who came to them in peace and who have tried to live among us according to our ways. Blue Flower was given to White Tree during the buffalo-calling ceremony. She decided on her own to have him again. She did not tell her husband. She did not make known to White Tree that her husband had not said she could sleep with him. So when Beaver Tail came home and saw her in the arms of White Tree, he became very an
gry. He and his brother attacked White Tree, who had done no wrong. Now that Beaver Tail knows this, he is much ashamed.” The chief paused, then signed specifically at Nate. “Please tell White Tree that I apologize on behalf of all my people, and I hope he will not see fit to talk around white fires about how he was deceived.”
“What’s he saying?” Jarvis asked, but Nate ignored him.
“The whites are our brothers,” Four Bears was signing. “Long have we cherished the friendship between your people and ours, and we hope this friendship will continue for more winters than anyone can count. Just as one bad berry does not spoil a berry patch, so this one misfortune should not spoil the ties that bind us.”
“You need have no fear in that regard,” Nate assured the chief. “This was a small misunderstanding, nothing more. We are not upset and will not be spreading stories about the Mandans, who have always treated our people with kindness and fairness.”
“What’s he been saying, damn it!” Jarvis broke in again. “Are they planning to skin me alive or what?”
Nate had opened his mouth to reply when from the depths of the dwelling rose a piercing shriek that caused nearby dogs to slink away in fear. The shriek wavered, faltered, and became a drawn-out wail, which in turn tapered to a protracted moan.
“God in heaven!” Jarvis blurted out, spinning around. “What is that villain doing to her?” He moved toward the lodge entrance.
“No!” Nate barked, grabbing the giant’s wrist and holding fast. “Your carelessness has already caused enough harm. Don’t make it worse by blundering again.”
“But Blue Flower?”
“Is getting her due for shaming her husband as she did.”
Jarvis half-heartedly tried to jerk loose. “But listen to her? What has he done?”
“We won’t know for sure until she comes out in public again, which might be a while,” Nate said. “It would be my guess that he either chopped off her nose or cut off one of her ears.”
“What?” Jarvis exclaimed in utter horror, and tried to take a stride. “I’ll wring his red neck!”
“Use your head!” Nate snapped. “If you go in there now, you’ll start the trouble all up again. Under Indian custom, Beaver Tail has the right to do whatever he wants to her. He could kill her if he’s of a mind, but I suspect he loves her too much to do that.”
“God in heaven!” the giant declared, his shoulders slumping. “I had no idea! No bloody idea!”
The dispute having been resolved to the satisfaction of the Mandans, they dispersed, moving toward the plaza. Nate went on with Winona and Zach while Shakespeare lingered with Jarvis. Almost every member of the tribe was soon present. Nate saw no sign of Diana Templar, who had taken to keeping to herself or spending her time in the company of her convalescing brother.
As they stood watching the preparations, Eric Nash trotted up to them and stated, “Nate! Thank goodness I’ve found you. Where’s Shakespeare?”
“Yonder talking to Jarvis,” Nate answered, jabbing his thumb westward at the intervening lodge. “He’ll be tied up a while, I expect.”
“But he said he’d translate for me tonight.”
“I’ll do it if you’d like.”
“Right!” Eric said, and anxiously motioned for them to follow him. “I’m sitting with Four Bears and his family, and I’m positive he won’t mind if you join us. Please. I need you near me when the time comes.”
“You seem excited,” Winona mentioned.
“I tell you, I could run all the way to St. Louis right this minute and not work up a sweat,” Eric
replied. “I’ve about gone off my head over this business.”
“Over what?” Nate asked, though he full well knew the answer. He hoped Shakespeare had plenty of plews to spare.
“You’ll see shortly,” was all Nash said.
Mato-tope’s family occupied the middle of the plaza. They were seated between a pair of large crackling fires. Suspended over the flames on meat racks were choice cuts of buffalo, including several tongues and portions of hump meat. The chief’s wives were watching carefully to prevent their meal from being burnt.
The grand chief had but arrived when Eric Nash hastened up with the King family. Four Bears beamed at Nate and signed, “Grizzly Killer, I have a request to make of you. Wolverine has told us that you are highly regarded by the Shoshones and considered one of their greatest warriors. After we have eaten, we would be grateful if you would entertain us by sharing the many coups you have counted and telling us about the many bears you have killed.”
“I would be happy to,” Nate replied to be polite, although he wasn’t normally one to brag of his deeds. In many tribes the men did just that, recounting their brave acts before admiring crowds. Some, like the Sioux, held a scalp or victory dance after each successful raid, during which the warriors boasted of their daring feats. The Blackfeet practiced a curious custom whereby the warriors were required to recite the coup they had earned while repeatedly striking a special post.
Once Four Bears had taken his seat, the festivities commenced. The food was brought just as fast as it was cooked. Every morsel was greedily devoured. Roasted intestines were especially popular, as were pieces of liver or kidney flavored with drops of gall. The Mandans ate and ate until none of them could take another bite, and then they sat back, sated and content.
Shortly afterward, Four Bears pushed to his feet and made an address in Mandan and sign simultaneously in which he gave thanks to the Great Medicine Spirit for the success of their hunt, and for the presence of the white men who had brought such good medicine to the tribe. He then recounted how Eric Nash had risked his life to save Four Bears from a charging buffalo.
Nate had been translating quietly for Nash’s benefit, and it was at this point that Nash held up a hand and whispered urgently, “Can you interrupt him for me?”
“We should wait until he’s done.”
Nash reluctantly did, his impatience transparent as he fidgeted and scratched and absently rubbed his palms up and down his legs. In due time the chief finished and sat down. “Now will you translate for me?” Nash asked urgently.
“What would you have me say?”
“I want to marry Morning Dew.”
“Are you sure, Eric?”
“Are we ever sure of anything in this inconstant world in which we live?” Eric sighed. “I think I’m sure, which is the best I can do. Nate, I’ve worn myself out weighing the scales. Should I or shouldn’t I? Am I really willing to give up any hope of returning to England for a simple but beautiful savage? Or is this a flight of fancy spawned by stupidity?” He glanced longingly at the maiden who had claimed his affection. “All I know for sure is that I want her to be mine.”
“Very well.” Nate shifted and raised his hands. “Four Bears has spoken well and wisely this night, and now I hope he will listen well and wisely to the request I must make on behalf of Lake Eyes.”
The chief glanced at the Englishman, whose unusual eye color had made quite an impression on the dark-eyed Mandans and resulted in the name by which the tribe now knew him. “Lake Eyes saved my life. If I have it in my power to give him what his heart desires, I will do so.”
“Great Chief, any man who is brave enough to stand up to a charging buffalo is a man you know you can rely on in times of danger and hardship. He would bring much good medicine to those who were his people, and to any family of which he was a member.”
“This is true.”
“It is also true that Lake Eyes has traveled far and wide in the white man’s land and elsewhere, and in all his travels he has never met any people he respects so much as he does the Mandans. When first he entered your village, he thought he had died and gone to the great beyond.”
Four Bears grinned. “His words please me.”
“And I hope these next words will do the same.” Nate leaned forward. “Great Chief, Lake Eyes has never known the joy of having a wife and raising a family, and this loss has long saddened him. Bu
t although he looked long and hard, he never found a woman he was willing to call his own, never met a woman who had the qualities he held dear in his heart.” He stopped and gazed at Morning Dew. “Until now.”
“Speak on.”
“Lake Eyes is sorry he does not yet know enough of your tongue to ask you this himself. He would very much like to take your daughter, Morning Dew, for his wife.”
None of Mato-tope’s family displayed surprise at the news. The chief himself sat back and pursed his lips. Morning Dew had her face averted, whether from shame or joy Nate couldn’t determine.
“What was all that you just said?” Eric asked. “Have you asked him yet?”
“Yes. Quiet until he answers,” Nate responded.
Four Bears took his time, which was not a favorable sign. Word had been whispered among the assembled Mandans and all activity had ceased. Silence reigned. They were hanging on their leader’s next words, and presently he cleared his throat and replied, using sign also as he had done before.
“Lake Eyes flatters my family by believing my daughter is special. She is. So special that I must pick her husband carefully or I would not be doing my duty as her father.” Four Bears studied Nash a moment. “There are certain things every man must provide for his wife. If he does not, they cannot possibly be happy together no matter how much they are in love.”
“True,” Nate conceded when the chief stopped momentarily. He could foresee what was coming and felt sorry for the Englishman.
“My daughter is accustomed to living in a fine lodge and having her own horses. She is accustomed to wearing nice robes and dresses.” Four Bears frowned. “I have done my best to provide for her, and her husband must also be able to do the same. Tell me, Grizzly Killer. Does Lake Eyes have a fine lodge?”
“He has no lodge.”
“Does he have fine horses?”
“He has no horses.”
“Can he hunt game? Has he killed many deer, many buffalo?”
“The only buffalo he has ever killed was the bull he slew protecting you.”
Season of the Warrior (A Wilderness Giant Edition Western Book 2) Page 24
