Savage Ecstasy

by Janelle Taylor

  For some reason, her thoughts strayed to Jed McDoogan. He was one of the few men who made her feel uneasy and embarrassed. He had a way of looking at a woman with those little, black, beady eyes that made her feel she were naked. Alisha flushed even now, thinking about it. She had been told that the short, redhaired man was an Irishman, but he didn’t have the short, redhaired man was an Irishman, but he didn’t have the brogue of one to her. Although he was a very good carpenter and had a growing trade, he didn’t know how to hold onto money and was usualy broke and begging for a loan. In fact, he had been fleeing bad debts and possibly a jail sentence when he joined their wagon train.

  His wife Janie was the opposite of him. She was a short, plump woman in her forties. She was a jovial, garrulous sort who made everyone feel gay and relaxed. Alisha could stil hear that bubbly laughter that death had stiled forever. She could visualize her fat cheeks and neck jiggling in laughter and the large tummy shaking like a dish of custard. She was forever offering everyone suggestions on how to do anything better or faster. Even though she had been a magpie and slight snoop, she was wel-liked by al for her openness and honesty. Many hard, weary, bitter days, she had lightened everyone’s spirits with her jokes and antics. She had a way of making even the worst time or event go more easily. Too bad, this love for people hadn’t rubbed off on Jed. They were al gone, but why? Why?

  Gone were Simon Tinsley, the candle and soap maker and his wife Elizabeth. They had been almost too weak and slow to make this trip, but with the help of another, younger couple, the Chinners, they had done it. The Tinsleýs had provided transportation and some supplies to the Chinners in exchange for driving the team and for doing most of the heavy chores along the way. This relationship had proven to be helpful for both families. The Chinners, a recently married couple and nearly penniless, had been able to make it out West to begin a new life, and the Tinsleys had had the help they had needed along the way. Mr. Tinsley had kept al the people in soap and candles along the way in exchange for the goods and chores and candles along the way in exchange for the goods and chores needed, other than what the Chinners could provide. In fact, Alisha now recaled that hardly any money had been exchanged along the way. Instead, the people had exchanged goods and services for what they had forgotten or used up on the trail. Now they, too, were dead and gone. Slaughtered like so many others…

  Joe Kenny, who had been their scout, had already left for his old trapping grounds to prepare for the coming winter. He would no doubt be the sole survivor of this disastrous quest for freedom. There had been Bil and Alice Cooper, Matt and Cora Dooley, George and Katie Tanner, Dr. Frank and Virginia Blackstone and many others. Even though she had traveled and lived with most of these people for a year, she now realized that she had never realy gotten to know them. Al these people and many others were al lying dead in the burned ruins of their fortress. Gray Eagle drove two long stakes into the ground about seven feet apart with a large rock. To one, he secured Alisha’s feet and to the other her hands. He knelt on one knee beside her and began to unbutton the neck of her dress. She struggled furiously, but only managed to burn her wrists and ankles with the rawhide thongs. She screamed at him, ducking her neck to prevent his actions. He firmly took her chin in his other hand and held it stil while he undid a few buttons to aid her comfort and breathing, then threw a buffalo skin over her.

  She stared breathlessly at his profile as he lay on a skin beside her, confused by his actions. Why did her comfort matter to him? It seemed obvious that he meant her no further harm or attention tonight. Anger and fear ran rampant through her mind and body as she thought of al the dead people left behind.

  She turned her face toward the sky and tried to stil her She turned her face toward the sky and tried to stil her quaking body and spirits. One good thing about this land was its cool, fresh air and beautiful night skies. The clear heavens were filed with twinkling stars and a ful, silvery-yelow moon, which looked close enough to touch. The stars glowed like hundreds of tiny candles on a mirror lake. The night birds and crickets sang praises to the night and to each other. A light breeze played across her flushed, slightly sunburned face and cooled her. She began to relax and her lids began to droop in fatigue. Soon, she slid into the silent, black world of slumber. Her face roled to lie upon her outstretched, bound arm, and even in sleep, a tear roled down her cheek and she mumbled softly for forgiveness. But from whom? He did not know.

  He propped himself up on one elbow and studied her features. The last time he had been this close to her he had bitten her savagely. His eyes riveted to her hand. The reddish-blue marks, tinged with yelow and purple, were stil vivid and unhealed. He wondered how she had explained the injury to her uncle, or if she had told him anything at al. From the looks of it now, he had dealt her a very painful blow. By now, Gray Eagle reflected, she must realize that we are enemies and that I now hold her life in my hands, just as her people did mine.

  White Arrow, who was lying next to him and watching her also, said in a hushed voice, “She is as beautiful as you said, my koda. I see this difference in her from the others that you spoke of to me. It is this that makes her stand above the others to you. It is not your skin, but your cruelty that she hates and fears. There is a strange look in her eyes when she looks at you. She is very brave. She wishes to suffer with her people and not be treated differently. Her spirit would be hard to bend if not for the strange looks she Her spirit would be hard to bend if not for the strange looks she gives you. Her feelings wil be more of a hurt than your punishments. You are lucky to have found her first.”

  “You are very wise and alert, Wanhinkpe Ska. You see with more than the eye. You also see with the mind, heart and senses. She hates me for what I have done, not that I am Oglala…. those the wasichu cals a Sioux.” They lay down on their skins and were both soon asleep.

  That morning, camp broke in a hurry in the predawn light. The others mounted up and puled out. Gray Eagle untied Alisha from the stakes and put the buffalo skins on his horse. She sat up and rubbed her wrists and ankles. She quickly realized that the others were moving ahead and turned troubled eyes to the brave. Why were they delaying? What did this mean? Was he going to kil her here or… ? Did he have other plans for her alone this morning? She trembled at this last thought. She gazed up into the azure sky and heard the singing of the many birds at daybreak. It al seemed so serene, so out of place after yesterday’s bloodbath. She sat curled in a bal, arms hugging her knees, watching him through eyes wide with fear and dread. He was gathering his weapons and sleeping skins. He came and took her arm and puled her to her feet. He led her to a group of smal trees and walked back to his horse. She looked back at him in confusion, thinking that he was abandoning her here until comprehension set in and she flamed in mortification. She finished her business and returned, not daring to meet his amused gaze.

  He bound her hands before her this time and mounted. He leaned over and lifted her up. He puled her arms over his head and placed them around his waist. As he began to ride away, she had no choice but to lean against his shoulder. They rode al day in the no choice but to lean against his shoulder. They rode al day in the hot sun. She thought sadly, this was what we worked and dreamed and sacrified everything for? This was the life that was going to bring them peace and freedom?

  By mid-day, Alisha was drenched in perspiration. Her hair clung damply to her face and neck. Beads of water formed on her forehead and upper lip and trickled down her face and between her breasts. Her arms and back ached and she drooped in fatigue, thirst and heat.

  The other captives had been tied to the backs of the stolen horses to speed up the trip to the Indian camp. On and on the journey continued. Hotter and hotter the sun blazed. Wearier, wetter and thirstier Alisha became. Stil, they pressed on. When would they reach his vilage? When would al of this be over? What was he going to do to them?

  The constant glare of the sun hurt her eyes and head. Finaly, she lay her throbbing forehead on his chest to shade them. What
did it matter what he thought? She was too tired, hot, thirsty and sad to care. The contact with his hard, muscular arms and chest did nothing to prevent the heat in her mind. Slowly she sank into a stuporous sleep from the heat and fatigue. In her sleep, she snuggled closer to him and murmured words which brought a heat to his body. He slid his arm around her slender waist and held her securely while she slept. “Niyemitawa, Cinstinna,” he said softly. She stirred from the embrace of his arm and awoke just as they neared the vilage. She wondered how she could have slept so long under such conditions, then recaled that she had slept very little since the brave’s escape ten days ago. She had been unable to erase his face from her mind’s eye or remove thoughts of him from her brain. But these were far from the dreams and thoughts that she her brain. But these were far from the dreams and thoughts that she had had about him! How could she have so misjudged him? When he had accepted the food and care, she had thought it meant truce between them. How wrong she had been! If only he didn’t have that strange, confusing effect on her. If only she didn’t think there was more to him than met the eye. From now on, she must let her mind, not her heart rule her thoughts and feelings. His whole being screamed “danger” to her, but she had heeded the warning too late, or was it? Could she somehow find a way to escape this fate?

  Maybe they would be rescued! Fort Pierre wasn’t very far away. But she knew that she was clutching at mist. They would be dead before the cavalry knew they had even been attacked. Sometime soon in this remote vilage in the new world, the life, hopes and dreams of Alisha Wiliams would cease to exist. If only there were some sense to it al, she might accept what was happening. But there was none. She had been caught in a war that was not of her own doing. But stil, she would be caled on to pay its dues with her life. It wasn’t fair! She had nothing to do with the situation! Both sides were wrong in one way or another. Didn’t it matter to him that she was an innocent bystander? Hadn’t there been enough death and suffering? How many lives did his revenge demand? Would anything change with their deaths? She wanted to scream at him,

  “Why? What’s it al for? I offered you truce and friendship and you repay me with hate and death!”

  She looked around the vilage as they entered. Dogs barked noisily at the excitement and the smel of strangers. Women, children, elders and other warriors came forward to greet the returning braves. Gray Eagle moved aside to let the others go first with their prisoners and booty. She watched the expectant faces come alive with the glow of victory and vengeance repaid. The come alive with the glow of victory and vengeance repaid. The white man’s defeat was a happy occasion for the Indians. She watched as they laughed and talked excitedly with each other. Ironicaly, it brought to mind the time when Gray Eagle had been captured and brought to their fortress. Were the two groups of people so different then?

  Alisha sat mesmerized by the vindictiveness of the people to the three men, who didn’t appear to notice or harm the others. They pinched flesh, puled hair, and delivered blows to unprotected areas of the men. Why them? The three men seemed to have a special place of hate in their hearts. Was it because of what they did to the brave, or was there more to it? She was perplexed by this, but could make no rhyme or reason about it.

  The male captives were led to huge posts in the center of camp and bound securely by their hands and feet, but the women were taken in a different direction. Then, the people turned to look over the newfound horses and plunder. Dividing and trading the bounty began immediately with great zeal.

  Alisha was abruptly returned to the reality of her own predicament by a sharp pinch on her leg. She jumped and cried out in pain and surprise. A female voice, dripping with venom, spoke to Gray Eagle. The Indian girl was very beautiful and shapely. She had long, shining black braids; copper-colored skin and large black eyes which shot daggers at Alisha. She was smiling seductively at him and her voice was sultry. Clearly, the girl had her hooks out for him, if he weren’t already hers. Was this his wife or sweetheart, she wondered? The girl ran her hand slowly and possessively along his sinewy leg. To anyone who watched, her behavior and looks needed no interpretation. Her feelings and thoughts were openly flaunted before him and everyone.

  flaunted before him and everyone.

  A spark of anger, closely akin to jealousy, engulfed Alisha and she stiffened in his arms, watching the girl closely. From the corner of his eyes, Gray Eagle saw her reaction and let the game go on for a time.

  Chela asked coldly, “Why is the ska winyan not with the other kaskapis and why do you carry her yourself?” She puled a knife from her sheath and asked permission to frighten the white girl with

  “a few cuts.” Alisha instinctively knew the girl threatened her in some way.

  Alisha pressed closer to Gray Eagle, tightening her grip around his waist, and trembled. “Please,” she whispered against his chest. Gray Eagle gripped the Indian girl’s wrist and brutaly twisted until she was forced to drop the knife. He spoke through gritted teeth to her, “She is my prisoner and I wil alow no one to touch her! You are never to harm her in any way! Do you understand?”

  Chela’s eyes widened in shock and disbelief, then rage, as she realized the implication of his words and tone. He wanted her for himself! “Am I not enough for you? You want the ska winyan for yourself?” Her jealousy and anger flared even more as she jerked her hand free and stormed away.

  Alisha had watched the scene in confusion. It was evident that he had made her very angry with his words and actions. Why had he refused to let the girl harm her? Why had he treated her like that?

  What was the fight about? Who was she and what was she to him?

  For some reason, she felt compeled to thank him, even though he suddenly ignored her.

  He rode over to where the other three captives were bound and dropped her to the dusty ground. He slid off the horse’s back and a young boy led it away. She crumbled to the ground on her and a young boy led it away. She crumbled to the ground on her numb legs. She made no attempt to rise as the pinlike sensations tingled in her legs.

  He stood towering over her like a giant bird of prey as she raised her head to face him, her eyes wide and searching. He stood tal and straight with the look of a fierce Viking god of war. Power and daring flowed from him and hovered al around him. He reached down and unceremoniously jerked her to her feet and shoved her over to an empty post and bound her there. He took the gold sash that the other brave handed him and tied it around her chest, indicating that she was his personal prisoner and was not to be touched by anyone. Without another word or look, he walked toward a very large teepee, ducked, and entered. She looked at the closed flap and then at the gold sash around her chest. What did it mean? Why was she not with the other women? He looked at her and treated her as if she were some animal that he had captured. She raged inwardly, how dare he do this to me! He has the power to dare anything he wishes! But what were his wishes concerning her? What was the purpose of the gold sash?

  Thankfuly, for the moment the Indians were ignoring al the captives.

  Alisha had her first real look around the camp. There were so many of them. There seemed to be at least three hundred teepees, which were arranged in circles, each circle growing wider and fuler. The teepees closest to the center were the largest and most elaborately decorated. Many had stripes at the top and bottom, mostly in red and black, some in yelow. The white, middle area had pictures and designs in red, black and yelow. Many of the scenes nearby were of warriors in battle or on buffalo hunts. The detail and talent displayed amazed her. How could these people be capable of talent displayed amazed her. How could these people be capable of such unusual and artistic talent as this? She studied the style and symmetry in fascination.

  The Indians seemed to be enjoying themselves greatly, laughing, talking and smoking pipes. They did not appear to be the cold, forbidding, sulen people that had been described to her. How could a people who seemed so happy and relaxed now have been so vastly different yesterday? Was it this strange, new
land? Did it extend its wildness and contrasts to its people also?

  Alisha roughly counted five or six hundred warriors and at least two thousand people. Her own settlement had been unaware of so many Indians so close at hand. Only a smal band of about one hundred had raided their fortress. Gray Eagle was indeed from a powerful tribe. What would have happened if they had been friendly to him and released him? Would he stil have returned to attack them? How would she ever know what he was realy like, or could have been like? Why did people facing death always think in ifs and whys? By then, it was always too late to matter. She wondered if the brave they had captured was their leader. He assuredly was in command and highly respected. If so, the whites would pay greatly for their abuse of him. Would he be lenient with her because of her attempts to help? No! He proved what he thought of her and her aid in the smokehouse that night. She studied the many breeds of horses tied outside the teepees. She recaled seeing a large corral near the middle of the camp filed with horses. Those staked near the teepees must be the warrior’s personal horse. The boy who had taken the brave’s horse had placed it outside the teepee he had entered earlier. She looked at the great beast which was an unknown breed to her. He was at least sixteen hands tal and had lean, powerful forelegs and flanks. least sixteen hands tal and had lean, powerful forelegs and flanks. He was larger than the other horses around and the only one she saw of that breed. A horse fit for a leader, fit for a king, for that matter. He was an off-white color with splotches of gray and brown. He was a magnificent creature. She recaled how easily he had carried both of them and how wel-trained he appeared. The horse was indeed as unusual as his master.