by Rita Karnopp
"No. I'm sorry, Melody. I don't think they'll ever let me go. I remember Joe Brady telling a story about a crazy, old white man who had lived with the Sioux. The Indians allowed him to eat and sleep wherever he wanted to. They considered it an honor and good luck if he chose their tipi to sleep in."
"What does that have to do with you?"
It surprised Sarah to learn Melody hadn't figured out why the Indians had spared them from the beginning. "Haven't you noticed how the Indians look at me?"
"Yes, of course I have."
"Doesn't that tell you they think I'm different? I'm sure it has something to do with the way I sound. I think they're awe-struck by the color of my hair, too. I think they believe I'm favored by the Great Spirit. A Sioux war party like this one rarely takes captives."
They had finally reached the creek. There were warriors everywhere. Some were stripped down to their breechclouts, others to nothing, as they rolled in the water to clean themselves.
"I can't believe they're taking a bath. I thought Indians hated water," Melody gasped.
"Don't be ridiculous! Do you believe everything people say about Indians?"
"What do you mean by everything?"
"Things like they never bathe, they beat their women and children, and they run around naked all summer long."
"Well, it's true, isn't it?"
Sarah shook her head and wondered how Trial Walker would have answered such ignorance. "Never mind, Melody," she said, pulling her fingers through her hair. Sarah looked around, then noticed Melody's flushed cheeks, and quickly said, "Let's get out of here."
"I agree."
Sarah led them further down the stream for a degree of privacy. She worked loose several buttons down the front of her dirty, gold dress.
"You're not going to strip down and bathe with all those Indians around, are you?"
Sarah laughed, and then paused, thinking how strange her own laughter sounded. "Of course not, silly," she finally answered, pulling up her skirt and tearing off a piece of petticoat.
"Now what are you doing?"
Squatting down at the riverbank, Sarah pushed the cloth into the cold water and wrung it out. "I'm going to wash some of this filth off my body before I go crazy," she said, stuffing the cool cloth down between her breasts and across her shoulders, then underarm. "It feels wonderful," Sarah sighed.
"Good idea," Melody said while tearing off a strip of her undergarment, as Sarah had done.
"Come," a voice commanded behind them.
Sarah twirled around coming face to face with Eagle Shield. His dark eyes betrayed no emotion. "You speak English!" Sarah accused.
"Come," he said, then turned and walked away.
"Sarah, let's go. I don't think we should make him angry. Aren't you afraid of him?"
"Yes. I'd be lying if I said no." Sarah led the way through the thick underbrush. Her thoughts swirled. Something about Eagle Shield reminded her of Trail Walker, though she couldn't quite decide what it was. Again she heard the meadowlark sing, she stopped to listen to its flutelike notes.
A scream drowned out the bird's song. She turned, Melody no longer followed. Sarah ran back down the trail. Branches and berry thorns tore at her exposed flesh, but she didn't care.
"Sarah! Sarah! Help me!"
Thoughts of Trail Walker and birds flew from Sarah's mind. She reached the tree line near the creek short of breath.
Glancing across the shallow water, Sarah spotted Melody. A warrior pressed her to the ground, much like René had done not too long ago. He pressed her head into the base of the cottonwood tree.
Sarah had noticed this warrior spent much of his time watching Melody. His eyes spoke the language of a man wanting a woman. If the warrior successfully mated with Melody, he could claim her for his wife. Vision or not, she may be forced to stay with the Sioux. Obviously Melody refused his advances. Loosing face and his temper, he wanted to force the issue.
"Stop. Leave the girl alone," Sarah called out, running toward them. She felt an object whisk past her cheek. She came to a sudden stop. A knife drove into the rough tree bark, narrowly missing the head of the warrior standing over Melody.
Sarah watched the warrior release the bodice of Melody's dress. Rising, he clutched the knife handle, then turned and looked past Sarah. She twisted around to find Eagle Shield standing a few feet behind her.
The look that passed between the two men told Sarah they'd long been rivals.
She glanced down at Melody, her pale cheeks and quivering chin told of the girl's fear. Sarah noticed the warrior, still clenching the knife, adjusted his feet, pinning Melody to the ground. He pulled on the knife. It remained in the tree. He glanced back at Sarah. His stance remained firm, his gaze deadly. Gripping the handle with both hands, he jerked on it again, only to fail once more.
A deep voice ground several Sioux words out at the warrior. Sarah turned and looked back at Eagle Shield. His grim expression unnerved her.
She looked back at the warrior above Melody. He appeared frozen. He stared back at Eagle Shield as though a hardened glare could strike him down. The embittered warrior turned back to the knife. He spit at the weapon and raised his hands to Father Sky chanting several Sioux words. He wrapped his fingers around the elk-horn handle and pulled, grunted, then pulled even harder. His fingers slipped from the knife, causing him to fight to retain his balance.
Eagle Shield walked past Sarah. Upon reaching the tree he bent over and grasped the knife. With a loud cry he pulled. The knife remained lodged in the tree. He turned and glared at Sarah. He grunted several words to his friends. Sarah looked around and found them all staring at her. They picked up a chant that got louder and louder.
Her heart beat hard. An uncomfortable feeling washed over her. She glanced at Eagle Shield. He stiffened as though she had struck him. He moved his hands in quick, demanding gestures, his expression revealing nothing.
"You speak English, talk to me." Sarah demanded.
Eagle Shield stood motionless, his dark eyes flashing a gentle, but firm warning.
She looked around, wringing her hands together. She felt trapped in her own lie. All along Sarah had made every effort to make the Sioux believe the Great Spirit favored her. Now she had to prove it. But how could she pull a knife out of the tree if two strong warriors had failed?
Sarah looked down at the friend she longed to save. Melody would belong to this unkind warrior if Sarah failed to pull the knife out. A feeling of defeat and betrayal filled Sarah.
Taking a deep breath, Sarah moved toward the weapon. It'd been wrong to deceive the Sioux, now Melody would have to pay the price of her trickery.
The presence of Trail Walker filled her. Sarah took a deep breath and straightened her spine. She'd not give up without trying. Trial Walker had told her many things happen for different reasons. Believe and the right things will happen when you want it most. Within seconds a possible solution filtered into her thoughts. She remembered an ax that had been lodged in a tree for years. Many men, even stout women, had tried to pull it free, and failed. At the taunts of several drunken trappers, Trail Walker walked up to the ax, pressed it inward, then jerked it out in one quick motion. It instilled a fear in the trappers, and many of the cavalrymen thought Trail Walker possessed great powers. Word spread like wildfire. Even newcomers heard of Trail Walker's accomplishments and offered him a distant respect.
Sarah looked at the shiny white knife handle, then down at a fear-stricken Melody. The warrior hadn't moved an inch from his domineering position over Melody. Sarah stared into his face and realized he appeared more afraid of her, than she was of him.
Sucking in a deep breath, then slowly releasing it, calmed her. She drew in another, and while releasing it, she studied the faces of the watching, chanting warriors with careful deliberation. If they wanted another miracle by the Great Spirit, then she'd make it as dramatic as she could.
Sucking in a third breath, Sarah tossed her head forward, sending an avalanche of su
n drenched curls across her shoulders, trailing beyond her waist. Theatrically stretching her fingers to the sun, and then crossing her hands, she pulled them into her chest. Her heart pounded against her wrists. What if I fail? She wouldn't think about it. The knife had to come out.
Sarah stared at the weapon for a few seconds, as if hoping it would fall from the tree. She wiped her hands down the front of her tattered bodice and stepped forward.
A slight breeze brushed across her too warm face. The keeer-r-r squeal of a red-tailed hawk stole Sarah's attention. She watched the broad-winged bird soar above. His lonely song filled her with power. She answered the hawk with a cry of her own.
The warriors stopped chanting and silence followed. Sarah looked around at them. They stepped back. She turned to the knife, grasped the elk horn handle with her palms. She pushed in, then quickly out with lightening quickness.
Taking several steps back, she turned to face the Sioux, legs apart, the knife clenched in her fist.
A hum of Sioux comments and chants rose. Sarah turned on the offending warrior, hoping her gaze blazed the anger she felt.
He rose, visibly shaken. He took several steps back. His expression dark, the color drained from his face.
She continued her stare, waiting for him to denounce any claim he had on Melody. Near his right moccasin the grass moved, catching Sarah's attention. She heard the hissing of the snake before she heard the rattling of its tail.
"Stop. Don't move," she ordered, pointing to the ground with the knife.
The warrior jumped at her words, not understanding the words, but interpreting the alarming tone. He took another quick step away from her. The rattler struck with deadly aim.
Instinctively, Sarah tossed the knife with trained accuracy. The snake writhed in place. The knife affixed the triangular head firmly to the earth.
The warrior dropped to the ground, clutching his bitten leg. He stared at the venomous reptile, then up at his brothers. Many had rushed to his side, while others stayed a safe distance from the snake and Sarah.
She wanted to help the warrior, but she couldn't. She had nothing to do with his getting bitten, but somehow she knew no one would believe her.
Sarah rushed to Melody and helped her to her feet. Sarah wrapped her arm around Melody's shoulders, guiding her to a short distance from the fallen warrior. "Are you hurt?"
Melody shook her head.
"I know René treated you badly and now this warrior's behavior didn't appear any kinder. I don't think he really meant you any harm. He wanted you to be his wife. He went about it wrong, but he didn't want you to leave today. Put it behind you. Let it make you stronger, so you can push on to survive. Do you understand?"
Melody pulled from Sarah, standing a few steps in front of her. "I'm not brave like you, Sarah. I can't pull knives out of trees or make eagles talk to me. I can't make a rattlesnake appear and kill my enemies."
Sarah grasped Melody's arm, then turned her around. Sarah closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head. "You silly girl. Those things weren't my doing. They just happened and I took advantage of them. I didn't call that eagle over to talk to me. Nor did I produce that snake so it could bite that warrior. They just happened to be there, your imagination created the rest."
"How did you pull the knife out of the tree? Two strong warriors couldn't."
"I wasn't sure I could. But you see…I tried. Think back to when Trail Walker pulled the hatchet out of the tree stump. I did the same thing with the knife as he said he'd done with the hatchet. It worked for him, and thank God, it worked for me. There wasn't a thing mystical or magical about it…and you know it." She patted Melody's shoulder, and then added, "If I hadn't tried, you'd have become that warrior's wife. He challenged the Great Spirit and lost. Did you want to stay with him and be his Sioux wife?"
"No. I want to go home. I want to see my mother and father. I miss them so much." Tears rolled uncontrollably down her sunburned cheeks.
"Dry those baby tears and toughen up, Melody. You're going to need every ounce of determination you own to get back to Fort Bryson. You'll have to backtrack the way we came. You'll recognize our past campfires and other land marks." Sarah searched Melody's frightened expression.
"I don't think I can make it, Sarah. I'm so scared. What if―?"
Sarah placed her hand across Melody's mouth. "Don't you even think about starting that what if foolishness. It's only asking for trouble. Show these Sioux warriors that you're a brave white woman. Straighten your back and hold your head up high. You're going home, girl!" Sarah said, glancing toward the fallen warrior. He didn't look well at all.
She turned to find Eagle Shield staring back. She hand signed for him to tell the young warrior she had nothing to do with his condition. She didn't want him to die. She only wanted to protect her friend.
"Only Great Spirit have power of life and death. My brother knows this. To take woman against her will not Sioux way. We do not take a woman, unless she give of self. My brother did wrong to force. He knows he did wrong, not you. He will not blame you."
"Thank you," Sarah said, surprised again by his fine English "Why haven't you spoken English to me before?"
"I learn white man's tongue from wife. She much like you. Strong, very beautiful."
Sarah didn't miss the distant look on Eagle Shield's face. "Does she wait for you to return?"
"She waits for me in Sand Hills."
Taking a deep breath, Sarah wondered if she should ask about his wife's death. "I am sorry. What happened," she asked, hoping he wouldn't be offended.
"Two winters ago she and many of my people were killed in sleep by the white man trappers. They are worst animals on Father Earth. My brothers and I found them and made them pay. It did not make our hearts ache less. They will not hurt our people again."
Sarah glanced toward the injured warrior. She didn't have to ask if he had died, the faces of his brothers told her.
"Go back to camp and wait," Eagle Shield said, walking toward the fallen Sioux.
Sarah led the way to her sleeping blanket, then sat, exhausted. She listened to the many sounds surrounding her, and marveled how alive they made her feel.
"Why are you sitting there? Let's take two horses and escape!"
Sarah looked at Melody's pink cheeks. Hope glistened in her eyes. Sarah shook her head. "They'd stop us before we got the horses untied. Don't underestimate their distance. If I were to guess, this might be a test. No. We'll wait like we're told."
"You can't mean it! They'll probably kill us because one of them died. If we run, we'll have a chance. I won't have to find the fort by myself. Please, Sarah. Let's go!"
Shaking her head, again, she glanced down, hating the hopeful, pleading look on Melody's face. "I'm sorry. I wish we could try it, but you have to believe me, we can't. They won't kill us for that warrior's death, you heard Eagle Shield. He did wrong, the Great Spirit punished him."
"I wonder what's taking them so long."
Feeling a growing uneasiness herself, Sarah couldn't refrain from watching the path toward the stream. A deep chanting drowned out all sounds of nature. A chill ran the length of her spine.
She watched the head of the first warrior appear on the path. Others followed. Chanting and dancing in a single row. They stopped in front of Sarah, each leaving a token at her feet. Beaded necklaces, beautifully polished stones, and various trinkets fell before her.
The last warrior, her captor, Eagle Shield, stood before her. He placed his hand across his heart and pointed to her. Reaching behind his headdress, he snapped an eagle feather from it. Instead of dropping it before her, like the others, he handed it to her. His fathomless eyes never left hers.
Confused, she wondered what his gesture meant. Would accepting his feather make her his woman? She had no choice. Sarah took the white feather. Immediate thoughts of the hero's eagle feather surfaced. She brought the softness to her cheek, inhaling, half expecting the scent of earthy cinnamon. Inoffensive, it smelled
of pine and smoke.
She glanced up at him. His smile brought an immediate tenderness to his features. He turned, and then joined the other warriors in getting the horses ready for travel.
"May I use your bonnet, please?" Sarah asked Melody.
"Of course." She untied the knot under her neck. "What do you want it for?" she asked, handing it over.
Sarah took the bonnet, filled it with the warrior's gifts, knotted it off then tied the bundle around her waist. She noticed the approval of those who watched.
Eagle Shield approached and made several hand motions at Melody, then toward a gray and white pony.
"What did he tell you? I saw him pointing at me. What are they going to do with me?"
Noticing Melody's last words quivered as she spoke them, Sarah smiled. "You are going home. He told me to prepare you to travel back to your people as the Great Spirit wants."
"They believed you?"
"Hush, Melody. Keep your voice down. Should Eagle Shield hear you…well, trickery with the Great Spirit would not be forgivable."
"I'm sorry. I can't get use to a wild Indian being able to speak English."
Taking a deep breath, Sarah fought the urge to scold Melody for her insensitive comment. "You'd better go and fold the blanket you were sleeping on. With no saddle, you're going to need it."
"Can't you ask them to let you go with me? Why couldn't you have told them your dream showed us both riding into the fort? They'd have to let you go, then."
"Hush! I can't change my dream now, can I? You want to stay?" Sarah felt her patience wearing thin. She walked over to Melody's sleeping area, shook out and folded the colorful blanket.
"No. I want to go. I just don't want to go alone. You can't imagine how afraid I am."
Sarah understood how Melody felt. "My dream showed you riding toward the fort. Either you ride out of camp on your own, or they'll send your spirit on its journey to the fort. You don't have a choice."
"How could you have done this to me, Sarah? I trusted you. I'm going to die out there. I'll never see my parents again."
