by Paty Jager
Sa-qan nodded. “I followed him all the way back. He was not happy to find his horse standing inside the animal dwelling.”
Wewukiye cringed. “He did not hurt the animal did he?”
“Only scorched the animal’s ears with his harsh words.”
Relief ebbed. Spooking the animal had provided the easiest way to put the man at a disadvantage, but he did not want the innocent animal to come to harm.
“Agent William. Do you know where to find him? Crazy One says he lives in several places.” After learning of the agent’s familial affiliation with the Nimiipuu, he had to find the man and have Dove tell him of her attack. To have the attack written in the White man’s word would be good. Crazy One had spoke of Agent William with high regard. Insisting he was an advocate for the Nimiipuu. This knowledge encouraged Wewukiye the White man would listen to Dove and believe her.
“If he is in the area he would be at Fort Lapwai.” Her eyes narrowed. “You do not plan to travel there do you?”
“I wish Dove’s attack be noted by a so-yá-po. She says he is one with her people.”
“This is foolhardy. You cannot travel all over and be seen by many.” She walked away and back. “It is wrong you have shown yourself to the Lake Nimiipuu, to walk into the mission…” She shook her feathers and stared at him. “I do not understand this need to help one, when the whole tribe is at risk to the so-yá-po and his greed.”
“Dove is the key to helping the Nimiipuu.” His gut rippled with anxiety. “I would not have risked so much had I believed otherwise.”
She shook her head. “I will see if I can find the agent. But I do not think it is wise to go to the mission.”
Wewukiye watched his sister soar into the air. If only he had her ability to fly he could collect the answers they needed.
«»«»«»
Dove pressed her hands into her lower back. The days on the horse, and now the rigors of erecting the tipi intensified her aches. She stared longingly at the sweat lodge. Did she dare ask to use the structure? She was certain most would believe she would desecrate the spiritual nuances by setting foot in the lodge.
“Is it not a long day?” Crazy One nodded toward the sweat lodge. “Should we not loosen tight muscles?”
“I would like that very much.” She glanced around to be certain no one lingered close by. “Will I be allowed? It is not usual for a woman with child to use one.”
“Is not the sweat lodge used to make one stronger in body and spirit?” The anger in the old woman’s words rang strong and clear. She straightened from dragging a basket into the dwelling. “Should the old man not be awakened?” She exited the tipi.
Dove stepped out to watch the old woman stalk across the ground between their lodge and the sweat lodge. She giggled at the woman’s flailing arms and motions as Crazy One spoke to the old man who tended the sweat lodge.
The woman stormed back across the grounds. “Does he not see you carry the future of the Nimiipuu?” She stormed into the dwelling. She chanted and tossed herbs from her pouch onto the small fire they had started as soon as the tipi stood erect.
“It is all right. I do not need to use the sweat lodge.” She touched the woman’s arm, stopping her chant.
“Does he think your condition will weaken the warriors? Is he so blind to not see you are more powerful?” Crazy One spit into the fire and flames leapt to life.
“Do not harm him. He only knows what he knows. It has been passed down that women with child bring bad luck to their warriors.” Her stomach clenched with confusion. Why would her not being able to use the sweat lodge make the woman so angry? In all her years she had not seen a woman with child enter the sweat lodge also used by the men. The thought of moist heat on her back brought a smile to her lips.
“I seek the women of this lodge.” Wewukiye’s strong voice rang from outside the dwelling. His presence offered the help she needed.
Dove ducked out the opening and stared up into his wonderful face. The concern etched in his brow and confusion flickering in his eyes led her to wonder if he knew of Crazy One’s anger.
“What happened? My ears burn from the old woman’s chants.” Wewukiye lowered his voice and motioned to a log he must have brought for sitting in front of the dwelling.
“She went to the old man of the sweat lodge to see about the two of us using it. He would not allow a woman of my condition to use the lodge.” She glanced at the tipi and the low growl of Crazy One’s voice. “She did not like his answer. I fear for him. I have never seen her so angry.”
Wewukiye peered at the lodge and stood. “I will speak with her alone.”
She nodded and stared at the opening Wewukiye disappeared through.
Wewukiye held out his hands as Crazy One focused her red glare on him. She had also inherited the changing colors of their eyes. “You know all through the ages it is believed to allow a woman with child into the men’s sweat lodge will weaken the warrior’s power.”
“Does she not carry the future of our people?” Crazy One shoved gnarled fists on her hips.
“I can make a sweat lodge for the two of you to use. Would that make you happy? You can be the tender of the lodge and allow who you wish inside. I’m sure the elders would not interfere.”
Anger wafted from her like tendrils of smoke from a fire. “Are you not a good uncle?” She patted his arm. “Do you not make Dove’s life happy?”
He hoped he made her life happy. The young woman deserved much happiness. She had so little to this point in her life.
“I will speak with the old man of the sweat lodge and Thunder Traveling to Distant Mountains.” He ducked out of the tipi.
Dove walked quickly up to him. “Is she better?”
He nodded. “I have appeased her and will seek permission to set up another sweat lodge for the two of you.”
“Do you think they will allow this? Do you know how to build one?”
He noted the skepticism and awe in her voice.
“I will soon find out.” He frowned at the growing clouds and cool air. “Go back in to wait.”
Wewukiye watched her enter the dwelling and set off in search of the old man of the sweat lodge. He barely remembered using a sweat lodge as a youth before becoming a spirit. He would need the man’s skills to learn how to build one. Crazy One’s spiritual powers would be enough to make the place sacred.
«»«»«»
Wewukiye spent the remainder of the day learning how to construct a sweat lodge. The entrance must point to the rising sun, the fire pit the right depth to hold coals and warm rocks. He found a spot beside the river he wished to use and strode to the dwelling of Thunder Traveling to Distant Mountains. The warrior’s young wife, Springtime, stared a moment before casting her gaze downward as Wewukiye entered the tipi.
“I seek your permission to build a sweat lodge for Crazy One and Dove. The old man of the sweat lodge made an enemy of Crazy One.” He sat crossed-legged on the opposite side of the fire pit from Thunder Traveling to Distant Mountains.
“Women with child do not use the sweat lodge.” Thunder Traveling to Distant Mountains’s gaze drifted to his wife. A slight smile tipped the corners of his mouth.
Wewukiye peered closer at the woman and realized she, too, was with child.
“Crazy One believes it would be good for Dove.” He spread his hands open in appeal. “My aunt has a forceful presence that is hard to disobey.”
Thunder Traveling to Distant Mountains nodded his head. “This is true. She is much like her mother, tenacious as a badger, and filled with the essence of her father.” His eyes narrowed, scanning Wewukiye’s face. “My father sees much in you that matches her father.”
Wewukiye held his body from squirming under the man’s scrutiny. There would come a day when they would know the truth. To remain a mystery would be best until then.
“I am of her father’s people. Do you give your permission for me to build another sweat lodge? All women who wish to use it are welcome.” H
e didn’t glance at Springtime but glimpsed her move closer to her husband.
Thunder Traveling to Distant Mountains stood. “Show me where you wish to build the women’s sweat lodge.”
Wewukiye stood also. Their gazes met at the same level. He moved to the opening, a scraping sound filled the silence when his shoulders pushed through the opening. The sound echoed as Thunder Traveling to Distant Mountains exited.
They strode side-by-side to the edge of the river. Wewukiye motioned to the marks he gouged in the dirt with a stick.
“The door will face the water and the rising sun.” He motioned to the peaceful view of the river rolling by.
Thunder Traveling to Distant Mountains nodded. “I will tell my father I have granted permission.” He glanced over his shoulder at his dwelling. “When will it be finished?”
Wewukiye smiled. His wife would no doubt be second after Dove to use the sweat lodge. “I wish to have it finished by tomorrow night.”
Thunder Traveling to Distant Mountains nodded. “Do you wish help?”
“No. I have talked with the old man of the sweat lodge.”
“As it should be.” Thunder Traveling to Distant Mountains stared across the water.
Wewukiye watched the water ripple, sensing the man’s need to say something else.
“You have grown close to Dove. And you believe she was attacked by our friend—”
“I do not believe, I know.”
“How? Did you see?” Thunder Traveling to Distant Mountains held his eyes on the river.
“I did not see, but I believe it happened.” No woman would bring shame to her family by trying to end her life if such an outrage had not happened. He would not tell this man of her disgrace. He shifted, watching the man next to him. “The man is not a friend of the Lake Nimiipuu. Be ever watchful of him.”
“You are not of our band. How do I know you are not making trouble with the so-yá-po to gain our home?” Thunder Traveling to Distant Mountains continued to stare at the fast moving water.
“I call no band my home. I am Nimiipuu and will always place my people before my own life.” The conviction in his words came from his heart and his duty as spirit of the lake.
“This I believe and because of these words, I will trust you know what you are doing. But should my people come to harm through your need for revenge, I will take you before the council.” Thunder Traveling to Distant Mountains pivoted, drilling him with his dark brown gaze.
Pú-timt wax `oymátat
(18)
Dove pulled her shawl tighter around her body and watched the gray blanket of dusk slip up the canyon walls as the sun set. Wewukiye spent last night and all of today working on the sweat lodge.
She and Crazy One walked with him to see the finished sweat lodge. The cold night air bit at her cheeks, but the smile curving her lips warmed her inside as she witnessed the newly erected structure. The dwelling resembled the old man’s sweat lodge exactly.
“This is a special place,” she whispered and stared into Wewukiye’s eyes. The color deepened taking her breath away and reflecting his pride in his work.
Crazy One strolled around, smoothing her hands all over the outside and chanting through the inside.
Dove stood to the side, watching the woman chant and the man scoop water from the river in an animal skin pouch.
“This should be enough water.” Wewukiye placed the large pouch beside the opening. “I’ve stacked wood inside to last several uses.”
“Thank you for building this wonderful sweat lodge and stocking it with wood, stones, and water.” In the growing darkness Dove moved closer. She missed being held in his arms and had trouble sleeping the night before knowing he slept alone somewhere beyond the village. Seeing the beginnings of the sweat lodge when she awoke led her to believe he spent most of the night working on the structure. She stared into his glowing eyes. His easy smile, solid stance, and twinkling eyes did not give the appearance of one who worked all night and day.
“Anything you wish, I will see it comes true.”
His low husky voice sent shimmers of excitement skittering across her skin.
She took one more step closer and whispered. “I wish I could sleep in your arms.”
He glanced around then took a step, their bodies barely touching. “Think of me while in the sweat lodge. I thought of you with each stick I shaped and each rock I placed. My spirit lives within the walls and will hold and keep you safe.”
“Is it not time for you to leave?”
Crazy One’s voice and gentle pull on Dove’s arm drew her gaze from Wewukiye and her body from the magical hold he held on her.
Wewukiye captured her hand. Think of me.
His words clung to her mind. She savored them like being embraced in his arms. Crazy One led her to the opening.
“Is it not best to take off your clothes?” The old woman undressed and ducked into the structure.
Dove quickly shed her moccasins, wool shawl, and blanket dress. She quickly stepped inside the warm dark lodge. Heat from the blazing fire met her as solid as a wall of thick hides, taking her breath away. Crazy One’s skinny fingers gripped Dove’s arm, directing her to a rock with an indention perfectly shaped for her bottom.
Crazy One chanted and the flames grew lower with each stone she placed in the middle of the fire.
Dove studied the lowering flames and glowing rocks. Darkness descended like the gradual lowering of sleepy eyelids. The heat penetrated her body warming the aches and easing her tight muscles. The low flicker of red images waving on the squat wall drew her gaze to the reflections. Did she see a likeness to Wewukiye’s warm smile in the visions?
Crazy One’s chants lowered in pitch. Steam hissed and filled their enclosure as she slowly dripped water onto the rocks.
Dove closed her eyes, breathed in the moist warm air, and wrapped her arms around the leather belt securely holding the life growing in her.
A small flutter in her belly, under her arms, shot her eyes open. Her mind focused on the amazing ripple. The life inside her stirred again. Her heart melted to the sensation. There was one person she wished to share this with. Wewukiye.
Warmth wrapped around her as snug and safe as his arms. A whisper of heat, the slight stirring along her skin, the gentle weight of his hand when he soothed her belly replaced her hand cradling her swollen belly. She sucked in air, experiencing his presence as fully as if he held her.
Her head lolled back against the hardness of his chest, cradling her and bathing her neck in his hot, moist, enticing breath. Tremors of excitement tickled and cooled her skin. The weight and warmth of his hands sliding down her moisture slickened arms released a spark of fire in her center. Heat and pressure, so like his hands, moved across every inch of her skin, dallying here and there, rubbing out the aches of her back, and igniting her inner fire of desire.
His feather-like touch explored as cool puffs of air, sweet and intoxicating, covered her face and neck.
Her past experiences in a sweat bath never filled her body with desire or left her feeling sated and cared for.
Wewukiye enjoyed holding Dove in his spirit form of water. In the state of steam, he wrapped her with his love, dropping kisses upon her face and neck, easing away all her aches and marveling in the sensation of the life within her. Her firm, young body responded to his water form with equal acceptance.
When she said his name, he sensed her yearning to be with him. She now embraced the pleasure of the child growing in her. He could not have stayed away if the Creator himself had held him. This strong woman and her child meant everything to him. And he would do all he could to ensure their happiness.
She sighed and relaxed deeper into his body. His own urges had surfaced at his first touch of her skin. Now he wished only to please her.
He ran his palms over her buckskin belt, wishing he could touch her skin. Her hands covered his, holding them in place.
I wish this baby were ours.
His heart st
uttered. She knew he was here. He glanced at the old woman’s back. Did his niece also know of his presence? If so, she did not show it.
Do not go. Dove’s hand pressed tighter over his.
He splayed his fingers, allowing hers to fall between, gathering her fingers inside his palm. He kissed her neck.
Never.
With their joined hands, he wrapped his arms around her under her breasts, reveling in their gentle weight upon his arm. Dove’s easy acceptance of their intimacy swirled gratification in his chest. If she could feel him as a spirit, hope sprung in him that they could remain close after the birth of the baby.
“Is it not time to enter the water?” Crazy One pivoted on one foot.
Wewukiye kissed Dove quickly behind the ear and drifted out of the sweat lodge.
Outside the lodge, he returned to man form and hurried away from the river before the two women exited to wash the sweat from their bodies.
«»«»«»
Dove walked into the freezing water and quickly washed away her sweat and impurities. She hated rinsing away the heat of Wewukiye’s hands loving her. His whispered word, Never, hung in her mind and her heart. He would not leave her and the baby, but who or what was he? After their shared experience she knew he could not be a man. No one, not even the strongest shaman, could move about such as Wewukiye.
Her skin shivered as she pulled her dress over her body. She wrapped the shawl around her shoulders, and quickly donned her moccasins.
She stared up the canyon wall. Where are you?
“Is it wise to go to my uncle?” Crazy One placed a hand on her arm.
“I know he is not like any other. I must talk with him.” Dove peered into the darkness, making out darker clumps of bushes and rock on the canyon wall.
“Is he not watching you? Should you not walk carefully?” The old woman gave a gentle shove toward the canyon wall.
Dove understood and did not hesitate. Wewukiye would find her. She did not fear anyone seeing her leave the camp. This time of night, everyone remained in the central lodge telling stories. She strode past a tipi, away from the circle of dwellings. Her gaze probed the dark ground to avoid tripping as she traveled up the slope of the canyon wall.
