by Karen Kay
“Ah,” she said, as she put her weight on one foot, hand on her hip. “So that is your plan. To leave me and go about seeking the prince on your own.”
When he didn’t answer, Sierra stared up at him, boldly holding his gaze. And she inquired, “May I ask how long you have intended this?”
He looked away from her. “Perhaps since last night.”
“I see,” she said, wondering if her face mirrored the unexpectedness of this remark. Although, she thought, perhaps she should have been more prepared. And she commented, “How cleverly you have avoided telling me this until now.”
He didn’t answer.
But Sierra went on to say, “And what about the advice from your grandfather? Do you not remember telling me that he advised you to take your woman with you wherever you go?”
High Wolf hesitated, looking away from her, although at last he said, “Yes, I do. But look around you. Have I not done so?” he asked. “Have I not brought you here to the Mandan village and to Fort Clark, instead of taking you back to St. Louis? Princess, understand. I cannot put your life in constant danger.”
For a moment, she looked sullen, then, “Well, I think you will have to change your plans.”
“I think not,” he answered at once. “There is little else I can do, and remain an honorable man.”
“Because,” she went on as though he hadn’t spoken a word, “I won’t stay put. Do you understand? We have had this conversation before, but it appears we need to have it again. Heed my words on this, I intend on going the entire way into Indian country. And I aim to find the prince, whereupon I will either gain his cooperation to return with me to Europe, or die trying.”
At this last declaration, High Wolf sent her a lopsided grin. “Don’t you mean that someone will die…if he doesn’t cooperate?”
But Sierra was in no mood for humor, and she shot her chin into the air, saying, “I have no idea what you are talking about.”
But High Wolf was not about to utter more on that subject. However, he did observe, “If I find the prince, I will bring him to you.”
“No, no. This is not what you promised me. You gave me your word that you would help me, and that you would take me with you.”
“Yes, that I did, and I have brought you here. And look here before you: I have helped you, and I will continue to help you.” He paused. “Notice, however, that I do not, and did not say in the past, how I would give you that help.”
“A fine concession. You know as well as I that I assumed we would go on together.”
It was a legitimate point she presented, but High Wolf did not seem in any mood to be reasonable, and he said, “Then that is your error, and not my problem.”
Not my problem?
Had he actually said that? As she straightened up, she began to wonder if this stubborn man was the same man who had taken her in his arms only hours ago? The same man who had declared his love?
After a short pause, she said, “I beg to differ with you on that subject. It is your problem. And if it isn’t now, it soon will be, for I mean it. I will run away if these are your plans. As God is my witness, I will find the prince—if need be, on my own.”
But High Wolf’s reaction was hardly what she expected. Instead of retaliating, he merely tottered back on his feet. And he said, “You know you will not do so.”
“Yes, I shall.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Am I to understand that after only a few days, you believe you have learned enough about scouting to accomplish this on your own?”
She scowled at him.
“Do you? Tell me true.”
“Oh!” She was caught. Truly caught, and she knew it. “You…you…”
“Come,” he said, taking hold of her elbow. “There is only one thing for us to do that is sensible. Keep in mind that I am not your enemy. I am the man who loves you, and I have pledged myself to help you. And I will help you, but in my own way. Now, perhaps it is best that we go forward, to the fort, where you will be secure. Then I shall go on to discover what I can from the Mandans.”
But Sierra was far from finished, and she pulled her arm out of his grip. “If I go there, to Fort Clark,” she declared, “I swear I shall find another guide to lead me to the prince.”
“No, you will not,” he said, “for I will ensure that the scouts know better than to take your bribe.”
“Oh!” she sputtered. “Oh!”
But High Wolf seemed unaffected by her temper, and with a speculative look in his eye, said, “When we arrive at the fort, you must also pretend that there is nothing between us. To them, I will be no more than your guide. There can be nothing familiar; no touching, no unnecessary talk.”
Sierra shot her chin into the air. “Good. That is very good, indeed, for that is exactly how I feel at this moment.”
He nodded, becoming silent. But when he didn’t offer a word, not even to comment on her sulking, Sierra asked, “Why is it that we must act that way? As though we have no relationship? It seems a little ridiculous to me.”
He gazed away from her, the air about him tense. “I know,” he said. “And it is. But you have not experienced yet the dynamics at play here in the West. There is much prejudice. Why this is so, I don’t know. Suffice it to say that it is there—much more so than anything you witnessed in Europe.”
“Ah, I see,” she said. “So great is the prejudice, then, amongst your friends, that you do not wish it known that you have married a white woman? Is that it?”
From beneath his own disguise, High Wolf gave her an astounded look. “Princess, again you twist my words into misunderstanding. It is not for myself or the Indian people that I worry. In sooth, there is little prejudice from my people against yours—except that they believe that all white men are liars…”
“Do they?”
But he ignored her, and said, “There is, however, great bias from the white man toward the Indian in this country.”
“What makes you think that? I have seen very little of that myself.”
“Yes, I am certain this is true. But you must ask yourself, have you been here long enough to observe it?”
She shrugged.
He continued, “If you stay here, you will see that this is so. It is to be observed in the way the white man does business, in the way he treats the Indian customer.”
“Humph.” Her nose shot into the air. “I’m not certain I believe you.”
“I invite you to look, then. Once you are at Fort Clark, observe how the white man acts: that he does not allow the Indian into his fort except during certain hours of the day. Witness that though the white man marries into the tribe, he holds himself apart, never participating in the ceremonies of the people or becoming part of the tribe. He has even been known to desert his wife if he has to leave the country. No, heed this advice, Princess. It is best to keep the white man in ignorance of us. Besides, you and I have problems enough without adding long explanations to them.”
“What do you mean, long explanations?”
He clenched his jaw before saying, “If it should become common knowledge that you and I are together as more than guide and princess, I fear we shall be forced to do nothing more than spend our visit explaining to the proprietor, James Kittridge, and his company, why you prefer being seen with a red man instead of a white man. Are you ready to do that?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Yes, I’m sure that you could. But I think it best to avoid a problem before it begins. No, Princess, while we are within the realm of the fort—even within the Mandan village—we will give others the impression that I am no more than your guide.”
“Will we? Will I? You forget, High Wolf, that as a princess, I am entitled to act in any way that suits me. Do you really think these people would question me because of my taste in friends? Besides, what does it matter to me what Mr. Kittridge and his friends might think?”
“It matters not in the least, except for one thing.”
“Oh? What
is that?”
“That a scout functions better if undetected. Hear me on this,” he said, raising a hand in protest, when she might have interrupted. And he continued, “It is the scout who tells his people where it is safe to camp, where is the enemy, where is the buffalo. It is the scout who tracks down the enemy, the scout who tells the others when and where are the best places to stage an attack. It is the scout who can enter an enemy camp undetected, thus bringing back valuable information for his people. This is why we wear the wolf disguise and why we paint our bodies to blend in with the environment; it is why we sneak into enemy territory, rather than ride straight into it. Our warfare is mostly of the mind and of the senses. When undetected, one can learn many things about an enemy. When detected, we fail.”
Sierra, although listening intently, was, however, in no state of mind to be moved by a speech, and she said, “I fail to see why—”
“Because if we act in the manner that we have these past few days, we will be found out; my business will be laid out for all eyes to see, like an open hand. This, and this alone, would make it difficult, if not impossible to glean news about the prince.”
“Humph!” That bit of information caused her some speculation. Perhaps it was true. Maybe.
Defiantly, she met his cool look with one of her own. However, at some length, given the logic of his reasoning, all she said was “Very well. If that is how it is to be, so be it. But I still think it monstrous ill that you have decided all this without consulting me. Or without even giving me a chance to relate my own opinion on our predicament.”
“I have.”
“No, you have not.”
He quirked his brow at her. “Have I not?”
“No, you have dictated to me what I am to do, without finding out what problems, if any, I might have.”
“But I know your problems.”
“No, you do not. You think you know them. That is the problem.”
“Is it?” He stared at her for several seconds, then, reaching out toward her, he touched her face, his graze gentle upon her.
But she pulled back from him. “Keep away from me,” she said. “I am very upset with you.”
“I know,” he said. “And I am sorry. Truly, I am, but it cannot be helped. I am doing what I think is best.”
“Yes, I know you are, but I disagree with it.”
He breathed out on a sigh. “Then, tell me, Princess, if my plan is not to your liking, what do you suggest?”
Sierra threw caution to the wind, deciding to tell him exactly what she thought. And she said, “You do me an injustice. I am a princess, and used to having my own way. Now, when I told you I was going with you, I wasn’t asking you, High Wolf. I was telling you.”
He shook his head. “Now who is ordering whom?”
“But I, at least, have every right to do so.”
“As do I, when you are in my country,” he said. “But tell me, why do you object so strongly? I am thinking only of your safety. Is there some problem that you know of that I have not considered?”
From beneath her lashes, she shot him a covert glance, saying, “There is.”
“And that is?”
“If you understood me at all, you would know.”
“I am sorry that I do not. Please tell me.”
She blinked, slanting him a frown. “Well, the truth is,” she capitulated, “that if you left me behind, not only would you upset me, but I would worry about you. And if something happened to you, how would I discover it? I already have one man I am seeking. I have no wish to make it two.”
For a moment, High Wolf seemed taken aback. At last, however, he concurred, saying, “You are right. I had not considered this.”
And although this might have mollified her a trifle, she was hardly in a mood to give quarter, and she added, “Anything, even danger, is preferable to sitting in some dark fort, alone, worried, wondering.”
Again he acknowledged her with the tilt of his head. “I know of women who feel similarly. They often go with their husbands on the war trail, for they would rather die with him than live without him.”
“Yes, not knowing is worse than…” She glanced up at High Wolf, as his meaning became clear to her. For a moment, she brightened. “Does this mean you will let me go with you?”
But he shook his head, effectively erasing the smile from her face. “I cannot promise you that yet. What I shall do is consult with an elder, and I shall tell him all we have spoken of. He will give me wise advice.”
“Oh.” Her voice, even her look, must have carried her disappointment.
And she wondered, what good was this? A tribal elder would surely relegate her to the fort.
“But I will promise you this,” High Wolf went on to say. “In the future, anything that concerns us both will be discussed by us both before I again tell you what to do…that is, unless it is an emergency.”
“Oh,” she said. “Yes, that is good, then, I suppose.” Briefly, she gazed toward the village once more, before she said, “I would still rather stay with you in the Mandan village.”
“I know, Princess. But James Kittridge is most likely expecting you. Your servants should be there, also, and, if I am correct in what I have seen, Kittridge has scouts out looking for you.”
“Oh? Has he? Have you seen any?”
“There have been one or two. But we have avoided them.”
“And they didn’t see you?”
“No,” he said. “Those men sent out by the white man to scout are not the same as those of us in the wolf clan. Those men, under the direction of the whites, are not trained in the same manner as we of the clan, and they do not know of the most intricate knowledge that is kept only to a wolf clan scout. Such men are easy to fool, easy to avoid.”
“Oh,” she said. “Then there are differences amongst scouts?”
He nodded. “All Indian men of all tribes know how to track and how to find game. But the knowledge of the clan goes beyond this basic tracking; the clan takes it further, and a scout learns to become so much a part of the environment, he cannot be seen in it. There is great difference between the two.”
“Ah,” she said, “and have I been learning the true method?”
“Haa’he, I have been teaching you the way of the wolf clan. But there is still much you do not know. Now, if we wish to arrive at the fort while the sun is still up, we should start out now, for the white man bolts his gates, and no one, particularly an Indian, is admitted after dark. Come, your disguise is complete, and the way is not far.”
And so it was that the two wolves—one male, one female—approached the fort with great stealth, and not once were they seen for who they truly were, until they were well upon the gates.
Chapter 20
And I recollect well that Governor Clarke (sic) told me, before I started for this place, that I would find the Mandans a strange people and half white.
George Catlin, Letters and Notes on the
Manners, Customs, and Conditions
of North American Indians
Sierra awoke to the din of high-pitched whoops, the running of what sounded to be thousands of feet, battle cries and children’s laughter.
Laughter? Were they being attacked? By children?
Rousing herself from her bed, she pulled on her robe and stepped to the crude window in her room. Throwing back the wooden barricade, Sierra looked out upon a scene of much beauty and curiosity. Before her was a most luscious view of the prairie. Between Fort Clark and the Mandan village itself was a beautiful mixture of green valleys and hills, with thousands upon thousands of swells and rises extending as far as the eye could see. At present, the sun was bathing the ground with a fresh, morning glow, and the grass fairly twinkled with dew, waving under a gentle, majestic wind.
To add to the excitement, out upon that prairie were hundreds of young boys, playing, who were all, except for a belt around their waist, completely naked. In his left hand each boy toted a bow, and in his right many arro
ws—or were they arrows? In truth, these objects looked as though they were no more than long blades of grass.
Sierra smiled. What a pleasant sight.
It was then that she espied an older man, two of them, each leading hundreds of these boys.
Why, this was no more than a mock battle, she thought. Training for the boys, as well as exercise for the youngsters’ bodies. She smiled and yawned, all at the same time.
Best to arise as quickly as possible and see what this day was yet to hold for her.
Of one thing she was certain, however: She would not remain long under the roof of Fort Clark. For, though James Kittridge, its proprietor, had been most gracious and had tried to make her stay here as comfortable as possible, her quarters were unbearably hot, shabby and dirty. Plus, the bed housed tiny creatures, so many that Sierra feared to ask about them. Worse, the previous evening, her dreams had been haunted by the sound of the Euro-American’s drunken brawl.
And she couldn’t help but wonder if High Wolf knew of these matters, deciding that he, in most likelihood, did not.
Well, regardless of what High Wolf said should be so, Sierra would seek out the Mandan village and decide for herself if there might not be more pleasant accommodations there.
As to her maid and steward, Sierra had quickly learned that the two of them—unable to determine what had happened to her—had travelled farther north, toward the Minatarree village, where, according to Mr. Kittridge, the two hoped to learn more of the whereabouts of Prince Alathom.
But alas, rather than comfort her, that piece of knowledge only served to upset her. If Maria could travel in this country, why was she to be denied?
But these questions would have to wait until she saw High Wolf, whom she hadn’t laid witness to since yesterday afternoon.
And despite all reason to the contrary, she missed him. She might be upset with him, she might disagree with him, but she could not deny that she yearned for his presence. Truth be told, she missed his kindness, his helpful suggestions, his patience with her mistakes…his love. But most of all, she missed—of all things—his trustworthiness.
