Wilderness Giant Edition 3

by David Robbins

  “Be honest with me,” Bluebird signed. “Do you like us?”

  “With all my heart,” Zach answered, and meant it.

  “My mother is very upset you will not accept,” Bluebird signed in such a way that Zach suspected she actually meant herself and not her mother. “She admires your devotion to your family but thinks you go too far.”

  Stopping, Zach swung around so suddenly Bluebird nearly walked into him. They were nose to nose, tiny red dots forming on her cheeks. “I have made myself as clear as I can,” Zach signed. “If I was free to choose another family, I would choose yours.”

  “Then we would be brother and sister.”

  Forever after Zach would be unable to explain the urge that prompted him to sign, “I would rather be husband and wife some day.”

  Bluebird recoiled, gasped, and bolted like a frightened Colt, fleeing toward the prairie. Those she flashed past gave her puzzled looks.

  Zach hastened off before anyone noticed him and put two and two together. Bird Rattler would be most displeased to hear he had upset her. Once he had lost himself among the lodges, he killed time by strolling aimlessly, intending to keep to himself until it was time to meet with Abby Griffen. He avoided Elk At Dawn and other boys, and once had to scoot behind a lodge when Bird Rattler and Cream Bear went by.

  Less than an hour remained when Zach walked around the teepee of a noted warrior admiring the realistic buffalo painted on the hides and blundered into White Grass.

  “Hello, Hackeryking. How you be?”

  The last person Zach wanted to meet was the keeper of the sacred Beaver Bundle. Since arriving he had learned the position was one of the most revered in the tribe, higher even than war chief or medicine man. Every Blackfoot had a stake in the bundle because the welfare of the tribe was believed to be linked to its proper upkeep. There were many rules that had to be followed by its owner and all who came in his presence. Anyone who violated them risked bringing calamity down on everyone.

  Keepers of the bundle had to be wise, kind, and caring. White Grass fit the bill, but he had one character flaw Zach found irritating: he loved to talk endlessly. Several times he had cornered Zach and gone on for hours. Zach suspected the venerable warrior was delighted to be able to practice his English, and it was just Zach’s misfortune to be the one person other than Abby who spoke it. She wouldn’t give White Grass the time of day.

  “I am fine,” Zach answered politely, adding, “but very busy. There is somewhere I must be in a short while.”

  White Grass placed a weathered hand on Zach’s shoulder. “When I age you, same I do. Always be go here, go there.” He chuckled at the remembrance. “Boys all same. White, Indian, it same, same, yes?”

  “Yes,” Zach agreed. Although, now that he thought about it, he’d had very few experiences with white boys his age. Being raised in the remote Rockies had its drawbacks.

  “You give great chief answer yet?”

  Zach was so accustomed to White Grass mangling the language that it always surprised him when a sentence was phrased correctly. “Not yet,” he said. “I have seven sleeps in which to make up my mind.”

  “You do right thing.” White Grass patted him on the shoulder. “Bird Rattler take care good of you. You grow be mighty warrior.”

  “He would do a fine job,” Zach said while trying to come up with a plausible reason to excuse himself. He gazed toward Cream Bear’s lodge and was horrified to see Abby leaving for the stream early. She never looked his way and was soon lost among the lodges.

  “Something wrong, Hackeryking?” White Grass inquired.

  “No. I just have to go. I promised to help Bird Rattler make arrows this afternoon. Will you excuse me?” Zach hated to lie but felt he had no choice.

  The keeper Of the Beaver Bundle tilted his head and stared so long and hard at Zach that Zach became uncomfortable. “All right, Hackeryking,” he said at length. “Go do what have to.”

  Zach bounded off toward the stream, then caught his mistake and changed direction, making for Bird Rattler’s lodge. A casual glance back showed White Grass watching him, so he smiled and waved. Once out of sight he changed course once more and by a circuitous route was presently in the thick brush bordering the trail.

  Abigail Griffen awaited him, kneeling with the water-bag in her lap. Her expression was unaccountably downcast. There were red marks under her eyes, as if she had been crying. And her hands twined and untwined restlessly. She glanced up, smiled wanly. “I came early in the hope you would too so we’d have more time to talk.”

  “I’m glad you did,” Zach said, squatting. “Lucky I saw you.”

  Abby focused on her hands. “This is going to be very hard for me to do.”

  “Escaping? Don’t worry. I’ll have it all worked out ahead of time. If we plan it right, we’ll be long gone before the Blackfeet miss us.”

  “No, no. Not that.” A long sigh welled up from deep within her. “I’ve changed my mind about going.”

  Zach blinked. “You’ve what, ma’am?”

  “At first I was giddy at the notion of seeing my own kind again,” Abby said. “I don’t think I touched the ground once all the way back to the lodge.” She stopped, her voice choking off, and it was several minutes before she found it. ‘‘But then I had time to do some thinking and I realized I can’t go back with you, no matter how much I want to.”

  Many a time Zach had been boggled by adult logic, but this instance left him thoroughly confounded. “I don’t understand,” he confessed.

  “All you need to know is that I appreciate your offer very much,” Abby said, touching his cheek. “It brought me to my senses in one respect. There’s no going back for me, Zach. Not now, not ever. I was stupid to hope otherwise.” She put the hand over her own heart. “There’s only one thing left for me to do, I’m afraid. I just pray I have the courage.”

  Zach didn’t like the sound of that. “Maybe if you’d explain, I can help.”

  Abby sorrowfully shook her head. “You’re so sweet, but there’s nothing you can do. Trust me. This is a matter far beyond your tender years. You see,” she paused, choking again, moisture rimming her eyes, “I was in love once with the finest man ever trod this earth. Lane Griffen was his name, and there wasn’t a prouder woman anywhere the day I said, ‘I do!’ to him.”

  “Don’t you still love him?” Zach asked when she covered her eyes with a palm and her shoulders gently shook.

  “Oh God, yes!” Abby’s voice sounded as if it came from the depths of a deep well. “But let me finish. I insisted on going trapping with him so he took me into the mountains against his better judgment. That’s when the Piegans found me.”

  “So? If he loves you as much as you love him, he won’t hold it against you.”

  “Not that, no. But something else he will.” Abby visibly wrestled with her emotions. She stiffened her spine while drying her eyes. “There are some things a person can never forget nor forgive. Once you’re much older, you’ll understand.”

  “It’s true I’m green in years, ma’am. But I’m not dumb. I learn as I go along.” Zach paused. “I’ve seen how my ma and pa act. I’ve seen how much they love one another. I know there isn’t anything in the world my pa wouldn’t do for ma. He’d die for her, if need be. And no matter what she did, he’d forgive her.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “I should think it’d be as plain as the nose on your face,” Zach said. “When a man loves a woman that much, he’ll stand by her through anything. Your Lane will welcome you back with open arms.”

  “Never,” Abby said wistfully, and suddenly she clutched at her throat and began to stand. “I have to go now.”

  “Wait!” Zach said, gripping her wrist. “Just hear me out. Please!”

  “What?” Abby responded, halfheartedly tugging to free herself. “There’s nothing more to say.”

  “There you’re wrong.” Zach thought frantically, certain she was going to do something awful if he didn’t
persuade her to come with him. “Listen. In six days we have to leave. I won’t bother explaining why now.” He let go and she didn’t run off. “I think you’re making the biggest mistake of your life if you don’t go. Bigger even than going to the mountains when Lane didn’t want you to. And you owe it to him, I figure, to decide for himself whether he’ll forgive you or not. Saying he won’t is like saying he never really loved you in the first place.”

  Abby made no reply for quite some time. She had gone as taunt as wire, the shifting of her face the only hint of the intense war raging within her. At last she came to life and whirled. “I’ll think over what you’ve said.” She took several steps, then stopped. “And Zach?”

  “Ma’am?”

  “You’re going to make some lucky girl a fine husband one day.”

  Zach watched her dash through the brush and reflected that, young or old, it didn’t matter. Females were downright strange.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Nate King had once heard a learned scientist discourse on the wonders of science and the new frontiers science had opened thanks to the telescope and the microscope. It had been the scientist’s opinion that the latter instrument would prove invaluable to mankind in the years ahead. To demonstrate, he had let each member of the school audience peer into a microscope at the minute world of tiny organisms contained in a simple smear of water.

  Now Nate knew how those organisms must have felt if they had been aware of what was going on. For every eye in the grand lodge of Mole On The Nose was fixed exclusively on him, and he felt as if he was being as closely examined as those organisms had been.

  It had been this way from the moment Nate entered. The warriors had been talking and laughing until he poked his head inside. Then they had clammed up, regarding him in cold, stony silence.

  Now, with the meal completed, Nate sat back and waited for the host to speak, as was customary. He had been seated in the place of honor to the left of the chief. The medicine man was to his left. On the chief’s right sat Red Rock and other members of the Bear Society, as grim a bunch as ever lived.

  “We will smoke,” Mole On The Nose signed. His woman brought a pipe which he filled with tobacco from a small pouch at his side. He took small puffs as he lit, and when he had the pipe going he passed it to Nate, who took a long puff and in turn passed it to White Calf. So it went down the line and around to the row of Bear Society warriors. Then the trouble began. None of them used the pipe. Slowly, solemnly, one by one they passed it along until Red Rock held the peace pipe in his hands. “We do not want you here. We will not smoke,” he signed, and gave it to Mole On The Nose.

  Rarely did Indians insult one another in public. Rarer still did they insult a guest. Everyone looked at Nate to see how he would take it. He hesitated, unwilling to provoke the Bear Society, remembering White Calf’s warning about the sacrifice of males as well as females. And while he sat there mulling how best to reply, the Medicine man bristled in his defense.

  “How dare you be so rude!” White Calf signed angrily. “Do you want Sky Walker to call down the wrath of the gods on all our heads?”

  Red Rock answered in Pawnee and was cut off by White Calf’s flying hands. “Use sign language, fool!”

  Several members of the Bear Society reached for their knives. Red Rock did, and was rising when Mole On The Nose motioned for him to sit. “There is too much bad blood here,” he signed. “We must remember we are grown men and not children who fight at the drop of a feather.” His stern manner caused the Bear Society to simmer down, although each and every one hurled lances at Nate and White Calf with their eyes.

  “I invited Sky Walker here tonight to learn more of the reason he has stepped down from the clouds to mingle with men,” Mole On The Nose went on. “The last time this happened was in the days of Walks With Fire, in the time before our people left the land to the south and made the long journey to this region.”

  Red Rock had listened with growing impatience. “Do you believe he is who White Calf claims, then?” he signed.

  “I had much doubt at first,” Mole On The Nose replied. “It made no sense for a sky walker to be white. But then I thought perhaps we are being tested in a way we cannot grasp.” He faced Nate. “This man does not act as most whites do. He behaves more like a human being. And when he killed the bear without a gun or bow I knew he is much more than he appears and might well be who White Calf claims.”

  Nate could stay quiet no longer. All along he’d known that the medicine man was talking behind his back, spreading stories. He had to know the truth. “Would you be so kind as to tell me White Calf’s words?”

  Red Rock snorted. “You know all things. Why bother to ask?”

  “I have never said I know everything,” Nate challenged.

  Mole On The Nose lifted his arms but had yet to make a sign when White Calf jumped to his feet.

  “No one need give an account of my words. I can speak for myself.” He defiantly sneered at the Bear Society warriors, then at the chief. “Since you have forced this on me in an attempt to embarrass me in front of Sky Walker, I will tell everything.”

  The anger was thick enough to be cut with a knife. Nate wisely made no comment. Somehow he had become like a pawn on a chess board. He was caught in the middle between two opposing tribal forces, and at last the reason would be made clear.

  White Calf strode into the open space between the rows of warriors. “It is no secret that for many winters the chief and I have not seen eye to eye on many matters. Nor is it a secret that some of our people, including the Bear Society, support him, while many support me.” The medicine man’s chin jutted like an accusing finger at Red Rock. “I have ever failed to understand why the Bear Society should back a leader who shuns warfare and shun one who is in favor of it.”

  “There is more to the quarrel than that,” Red Rock objected.

  “What is more important than the welfare of our people?” White Calf retorted. “If it were up to Mole On The Nose, we would let the Sioux ride right over us. We might as well hand over our women and horses to them the next time they raid. And while we are at it, we should cut off our own hair and offer our scalps to them in a special bundle so they need not bloody their hands lifting our hair themselves.”

  The chief shifted. “As usual you twist everything. I have never advocated surrender,” he signed.

  “No, but you have pushed for peace at the cost of lives and our honor,” White Calf responded. “Who was it that sent four of our finest young men to the Sioux to sue for peace? And what did the Sioux do? They killed our young men, hung them upside down from tree limbs, and shot them full of arrows.”

  “You bring up one incident out of many over which we have disputed,” Mole On The Nose signed. “I believed in what I was doing. We have lost countless lives to the Sioux. They have lost countless lives to us. It is in the best interests of both our tribes to smoke the pipe of peace.”

  “And has it never occurred to you that perhaps the Sioux do not want peace?” White Calf signed bitterly.

  “He made a mistake,” Red Rock broke in. “All men do.”

  “Leaders who make mistakes that cost lives should not be allowed to lead much longer,” White Calf said.

  “You are only jealous because more listen to him than listen to you,” Red Rock signed.

  “At least I stand up for the best interests of my people.”

  Nate was a fascinated listener to the acrimonious exchange, gleaning facts as they went along. Apparently the chief and the medicine man had been engaged in a long-running feud, a power play to see who wielded the most influence. That the Bear Society had sided with the chief, who was more interested in peace than counting coup, was highly unusual and reflected badly on the medicine man’s character.

  Mole On The Nose was gesturing for both parties to calm themselves. “This is not a time for name calling. White Calf has been asked to explain about Sky Walker and he agreed to do so.” He stared at the medicine man. “Wil
l you or not?”

  “I said I would.” White Calf signed. He thrust his shoulders back and adopted a grand pose. “Everyone here knows how religious I am. I pray every morning, every midday, every night. Constantly I seek the guidance of Tirawa in all that I do.”

  “No one here would doubt your devotion to your calling,” Mole On The Nose signed.

  Flustered by the unforeseen compliment, White Calf lost his train of thought for a few seconds, then resumed as if this were a speech he had rehearsed just for the occasion. “And so it is with my plan to repay the Sioux for their last visit. They killed nine warriors, stole thirty-seven horses, and took three of our women.” Mentioning the raid twisted his face into a rabid mask of hate. “They must be repaid in kind. We must have vengeance, which is why I, and I alone, offered to lead our young men deep into their territory to pay them back.” Pausing, he puffed out his chest. ‘‘I want them to cringe before the name of the Pawnees.”

  “About Sky Walker,” Mole On The Nose prompted.

  “You all know I went off to fast and pray recently,” White Calf detailed. “I went to a special place only I know, where the spirits are strong, the medicine good. And while I stood there calling on Tirawa, it began to rain, just a little at first, and then of a sudden there was a downpour that nearly knocked me off my feet and the wind picked up, howling so fiercely I thought I would be blown into the ravine below where I stood.”

  Nate wasn’t the only one hanging on every signed word. He could see the others were equally enthralled, especially those seated on his side of the lodge. White Calf’s backers, he assumed, and listened as the medicine man continued.

  “I was wet and turned to seek shelter in the trees when my eyes caught sight of something high in the sky above me. At first I thought it was a bird caught by the wind, but then I saw it coming lower and lower and realized it was a human figure and not a bird.” White Calf paused. Like a crafty politician milking a crowd, he had the warriors under his spell and knew it. “I was too shocked to move. I had never seen a man fly before, never heard of such a thing except in the tales of the old times. I wanted to run but my feet would not obey me.”