Walks the Fire

by Stephanie Grace Whitson

  As if in answer to her thoughts, Rides the Wind said, “Jess-e-king want to go, Rides the Wind will take her to her people.”

  Lord, how can I make such a decision when so much has happened? She was dismayed by the impossibility of deciding tonight. Then she was amazed to realize that she was actually considering staying instead of instantly demanding to be returned to her own people.

  How can I possibly be considering staying with these savages? she wondered. But if I go back, where would I go? Painful memories reminded her how relieved her parents had been when she finally married.

  Rides the Wind waited.

  Jesse avoided answering directly. “You are Rides the Wind. Does the child have a name?”

  “Lakota call him Wablenica—‘mother gone.’ I call him Wicatokapa—‘first son.’ He will have new name if Jess-e-king stays.”

  “A new name?” Jesse asked softly.

  “If Jess-e-king stays, Wicatokapa will be called Two Mothers.”

  The infant stirred in his sleep, and as Jesse moved to feed him, the sounds of his eager nursing filled the tepee. He nuzzled Jesse’s warm skin. Reaching down to take a tiny hand in her own, Jesse felt five fingers close tightly about her thumb. The baby didn’t let go. Jesse whispered, “His name will be Two Mothers.”

  Rides the Wind smiled and retreated to his own pallet across the tepee.

  You should smile more often, Jesse thought I’m not so afraid of you when you smile.

  The next morning Jesse woke when Rides the Wind left the tepee. Rising immediately, she stirred the fire. Old One woke with a start, smiling her approval at Jesse. She joined her in morning duties, correcting Jesse’s clumsy attempts to make the morning meal. Seeing the smoke rise from the vent at the top of his tepee, Rides the Wind reentered his home, nodded to the women, ate without a word, and left.

  When the village women met again to go foraging for roots and berries, one wore the petticoat Jesse had spent hours trimming with handmade lace. The other women laughed and joked among themselves, and the petticoat’s owner soon discarded it in disgust because it kept catching on the plants as they foraged.

  Once again, the beautiful young squaw took the role of teacher. She taught Jesse to say Prairie Flower in Lakota and was obviously pleased to see that Jesse had remembered what some of the edible plants and roots looked like. She patiently repeated the names of the plants until Jesse could remember a few of the new words. Once, when Jesse reached to dig up a plant, the young woman stopped her, grabbing her hand and making a face. Jesse found another example of what she thought she was digging, and her new friend carefully pointed out the differences in the leaves of the two plants. One, edible, had a longer stem than the other. Jesse nodded her understanding.

  Old One had not come on this expedition, and when Jesse returned to the tepee, she proudly presented the older woman with her small contribution to the next meal. One by one she laid the items out, trying to remember their Lakota names, and dutifully correcting her pronunciation when Old One corrected her. At evening that day, they ate alone, for Rides the Wind had left again with a hunting party and would be gone for several days. He had told Jesse in her own language, but he had used as few words as possible. “Jess-e-king,” he had said, “I hunt many days. Old One, Prairie Flower teach you.”

  Jesse waited for his return, trying all the while to learn how to fit into her new role. For every kind act by Old One and Prairie Flower, there were myriad jeers and cruel jokes from the other women. Unable to communicate except with signs to either of her friends, Jesse longed for Rides the Wind to return. In his absence, she read the small Bible by the hour, searching for passages that would have meaning to him. She wondered about his ability to comprehend the old language of the Bible, and despaired of her own abilities to explain anything.

  She prayed, asking the Lord to guide her to the right words, asking for patience with the unkind women of the village, and please, Lord, she added each time she prayed, please help me not to be so stupid and slow about all the new things I must learn. Help me to understand what they say and to imitate what they do so that I can serve while I am here. She knew that she would be leaving as soon as Two Mothers no longer needed her, but she was eager to fit in until that time.

  Just how much there was to learn became apparent two days later when the village suddenly became a hive of activity. Women shouted, children screeched, dogs barked, and everyone hurried about as tepees were brought down, fires doused, and things packed up. Old One somehow made Jesse understand that the activity had something to do with food, but Jesse remained ignorant, fumbling about and getting in the way until finally even Old One grew frustrated and forced her to sit on a travois and hold Two Mothers.

  Eight

  … I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.—Philippians 4:11

  The women and children streamed out of camp. As soon as Old One had everything packed, she motioned to Jesse to take hold of the horse’s jaw strap and lead it along. Jesse recoiled in fear. Old One insisted, strapping Two Mothers’ cradle board to the side of the animal where the child could watch the activity around him.

  Still, Jesse hesitated. At last Old One grabbed the jaw strap herself and, in disgust, started out across the prairie. Jesse followed along, humiliated, but unable to overcome the fear she had always had of horses.

  They had walked only a few miles when they came to the site of the buffalo hunt. Old One unloaded the travois and began to re-erect the tepee. First, she took the four longest poles, laid them on the ground, and tied them with a leather strap. With Jesse’s help, she raised the four poles and spread their ends apart. The framework for the tepee formed, the two women added more poles, completing a circular framework. Old One showed Jesse how to order the process so that the poles would lock into one another. When the poles were set, Old One brought out the tepee cover. It had been folded so that it was easy to lash its middle to the last pole by straps sewn along the length of the cover. Once this was done Jesse and Old One lifted the last pole and set it in place. They each took a fold of the cover and walked about the framework of poles, meeting where the door opening would be. Above the opening, the edges of the cover were fastened together. Finally, a stake was thrust through a loop at the edge of each side of the doorway and into the ground.

  Jesse stepped back to survey their handiwork. Old One patted her on the shoulder and smiled encouragement. They both took the buffalo skins that served as their bedrolls inside, prepared a fire pit, arranged Rides the Wind’s parfleche and their few other belongings and were soon ready to join Rides the Wind at the side of his freshly killed buffalo.

  Jesse gave Rides the Wind’s white horse a wide berth and stood helplessly by, ignorant of what she might do to help. At one point, Old One motioned to her and laughed. Rides the Wind turned his face away, but Jesse caught the expression of disbelief on his face.

  Rides the Wind skinned the buffalo, but not until he had cut open its side and, reaching in, removed the beast’s liver and, to Jesse’s horror, bit into it with relish. He offered her a bite, but she shook her head and turned away. He shrugged and continued his treat before finishing carving up the buffalo, placing each piece of meat on the hide. Once the job was completed, he caught up the four corners of the hide and used it as a sack with which to carry his catch back to camp. To Jesse’s great relief, Old One led the white horse.

  Running ahead to the village, Jesse hurried inside the tepee. Eager to be of help, she had decided that she would start the first fire. She had watched Old One do so several times, and although Old One used sticks instead of the flint and iron Jesse had used on the trail, she still felt confident that she could accomplish this “simple” task.

  Looking around for the long case that held the firesticks, Jesse emptied its contents. Laying the narrow cedar splint on the ground, she held it firmly in place with one foot. Taking up the small bow, she wound the firestick in its strong sinew and placed one end of the stick on the ced
ar splint. With her left hand she placed a hollowed-out rock on top of the firestick and began to saw with the bow, intending to spin the firestick as she had seen Old One do. With the first movement of the bow, her hand bobbled. The stick was dislodged from the indentation in the rock and flipped into the air.

  Jesse repeated the steps again, changing the way the firestick was wound into the sinew. It stayed in place—until her hand wobbled and the stick again came out of the indentation in the rock.

  Patiently, she set up the paraphernalia again. This time, as she sawed with the bow, everything stayed in place, but the fringe on the hem of her dress became entangled in the sinew. She gasped with impatience. Something made her turn around. Several of the village women were watching through the tent opening. They giggled, pointing at her and talking among themselves.

  Jesse’s face flushed red with anger and embarrassment. She tossed the firesticks aside and turned to face them, but they were gone, scurrying away as Rides the Wind set his load of buffalo meat down outside the door. Jesse sat in the dust, the firesticks at her side, fighting back tears. She looked up angrily, picked up the sticks and handed them over.

  “I wanted to help—but I don’t know how.” Her voice was miserable.

  Rides the Wind took the sticks and patiently demonstrated the art of making a fire. As he worked, she asked, “What were they saying?”

  Rides the Wind shrugged and ignored her.

  “I want to know.” She was kneeling next to him, trying to work the sticks as he had shown her.

  Reaching over to steady the hand that held the rock, Rides the Wind said slowly, “They gave you a name.”

  “I have a name. My name is Jesse King.”

  “That is not Lakota. It means nothing.”

  “Then what name do they give me?”

  “Woman Who Makes No Fire.” Jesse flinched and turned away to hide the tears that threatened to spill over.

  Rides the Wind offered no comfort. He continued to demonstrate the starting of the fire. Jesse sawed the little bow back and forth rapidly, angrily, and the force of her anger brought success. A tiny, glowing coal was finally created at the base of the cedar splint. Rides the Wind deftly tossed it into the tinder in the fire pit and blew on it steadily to encourage the flame to grow. In a few moments, smoke rose from the tepee’s opening.

  The village women observed the smoke, but they did not change Jesse’s name. A few of the more eligible young women wondered how long it would be before Rides the Wind realized his mistake and returned the clumsy woman to her own kind.

  Yellow Bird said it aloud. “The child does not need her. I would feed him buffalo soup and cherry juice. He would grow strong. He needs a mother from the people, not this woman who will teach him strange ways.”

  Prairie Flower surprised herself by defending Jesse. “If Rides the Wind had wanted a woman from the village, he could have had one. Many hoped he would wrap his buffalo robe about them. He did not. It is our custom to be kind to the weak. We should help her if she wants to learn our ways. You have seen that she tries to learn. She cares well for the child of Dancing Waters and Rides the Wind. I have seen her tears for her own child.” Prairie Flower took a breath and looked at Yellow Bird as she added, “Think how it would be if you were among the whites, Yellow Bird!”

  Yellow Bird retorted, “Rides the Wind has not wrapped her in his robe. There has been no feast. She is not his wife! She is only a slave. And, Prairie Flower,” she added hotly, “I would die before I would stay with a strange people!”

  Prairie Flower demurred. “I do not know why she stays. Perhaps Rides the Wind will not let her go. Perhaps she has nowhere else to go. She does not seem to care for him. But she stays. If she wants to learn our ways, I will help her.”

  Yellow Bird and her friends were already walking away from Prairie Flower, hurrying to their own tepees to begin the work of butchering and cooking their own kills. Prairie Flower’s defense ended abruptly as Howling Wolf pulled her away, scolding her for neglecting to erect the frame over their fire to cook their buffalo meat. He had erected the frame himself and brought in the small buffalo’s paunch. Filled with water, the paunch was hung on the frame over the fire. Soon, hot rocks and meat were added and allowed to boil.

  While some of their meat boiled, Old One showed Jesse how to cut other meat into thin strips, which were hung on a large frame to dry in the sun. Pointing to the drying meat, she said, “papa” and Jesse repeated the word. Later in the day, they pounded thin-cut meat with marrow and choke-cherries. Wakapapi, Old One called it. Jesse was surprised to find that she liked it

  That night there was a huge feast. Dancing and singing ran late into the night. Jesse watched as Rides the Wind sat among his friends, telling some story of the day’s hunt, his hands waving the air as he re-created a scene for them all.

  Howling Wolf sat at the edge of the group, listening in stony silence. When the group joked about the size of Rides the Wind’s kill compared to his, Howling Wolf rose and stalked away without a word. When Rides the Wind protested and went after him, Howling Wolf refused the hand of friendship.

  Still, there was great happiness in the village, and they all ate until they could eat no more. Jesse watched the dancing with lively interest. Dressed in their finest dresses, the women stood about the edge of the fire, hopping about slowly from left to right, then right to left. Each dancer stepped out with her left foot and then dragged the right to meet it, then the direction was reversed. Drums played by the men seated in a circle inside the dancers provided the rhythm for the dance.

  She saw Old One with a band of crones and Prairie Flower smiling softly at a friend’s whispered secrets. Quietly, she slipped away from the campfire to the tepee of Rides the Wind. Two Mothers slept, but she scooped him up anyway. When Rides the Wind missed her and left the celebration to search, he found her sleeping soundly, Two Mothers nestled in the crook of her arm.

  In the days that followed, Jesse learned that nearly all of the buffalo would be used by the Lakota. Horns became ladles and cups. Hair from the scraped hides was collected and used to stuff pillows. The ribs were kept for the children to use in games. Old One claimed the bladder as a pouch for storing some of her precious herbs.

  Tanning the hide took all of Jesse’s strength. First, the skin was stretched on a large frame and allowed to dry in the sun. Once their hides were dry, the women began fleshing them, scraping fat and tissue away with an elkhorn scraper. Jesse worked hard, ignoring the aching shoulder muscles that complained about the new workout. The first scraping done, the skin was left to dry again, and in a few hours became stiff, dry rawhide. Still more scraping was needed to remove the hair from the hides.

  Jesse inwardly recoiled from the next step in the tanning process, but she tried not to show it. Buffalo brains were cooked and, when cooled, spread over the skin until it was totally covered with the paste. Then, round, smooth stones were used to work the mixture into the skin. Finally, everything was covered with the broth the brains had been cooked in and allowed to age for the rest of the day. The hides were then soaked in a mixture of water and pounded yucca roots. They took on a sweet smell. Remounted on their frames, the hides were stretched again and the water worked out.

  At Old One’s instruction, Jesse stretched and worked the hide over and over. Her shoulders and arms ached and she panted with the effort, but still Old One instructed her to continue working the hide. Finally, the two women pulled and stretched the drying hide over a braided buffalo sinew rope that had been attached to a tree limb high off the ground and stretched to a stake that had been pounded deep into the ground. The two women pulled and tugged with all their might as the hide was drying. To Jesse’s amazement, when it was finally dry, it was as soft as velvet.

  At last, Rides the Wind took the softened hide and staked it over a slow-burning fire. As it was smoked, the hide turned a soft brown color. He explained to Jesse that smoking would keep the hide soft if it got wet.

  Jesse h
elped Prairie Flower sew many hides together, using the long tendons from the buffalo’s back as “thread.” Howling Wolf smiled at the prospect of a new tepee and set to work decorating the outside with skillfully drawn pictographs. Jesse was amazed by his artistic ability, and her opinion of him softened as the beauty of the tepee grew. Surely there must be a good side to a man who has such artistic abilities.

  Jesse watched and learned as the women of the village transformed their buffalo hides into tepee covers, moccasin tops, dresses, leggings, and cradles. Feathers, porcupine quills, and dyes made from berries or roots were constantly in view as the women worked to create beautiful things for their families. Rawhide provided moccasin soles and parfleche boxes for storage. As they worked, the women sometimes roasted a large buffalo bone over a cottonwood bark fire. Every few minutes, someone would turn the bone so that it would cook evenly and thoroughly. When it was done, the women cracked the bone and ate the brown, tasty marrow.

  One morning Prairie Flower signed that Jesse should begin a pair of moccasins. Jesse nodded her agreement and became a willing student. However, when time came to decorate the moccasins, she quickly displayed her own artistic skills, wielding the awl easily and creating an intricate beadwork design for Prairie Flower to admire.

  When the moccasins were at last ready, Prairie Flower smiled coyly and suggested that Jesse give them to Old One. Old One accepted the gift with a warm smile and kind words.

  Pointing at Jesse that night when Rides the Wind had joined them, she showed him the moccasins, and motioned for him to translate what she said.

  “Among the people, it is the custom for a new wife to make moccasins for the husband’s mother. When the mother accepts the gift, she welcomes the new wife into the family.”

  Jesse blushed at the message her innocent gift had sent to the old woman. Rides the Wind watched Jesse carefully as he concluded, “My mother accepts the gift you have given. She says that she welcomes you as my wife.”