Spirit of the Lake

by Paty Jager

  “You did not see your weyekin. How can you sing of your gift?” He stared at her with the same uncaring expression she endured as a child.

  “I did. You were so upset over my appearance at my return you flung my vision from my mind.” She drew her body straighter, taller, sensing Wewukiye’s presence. “I have remembered and will sing of it tonight.”

  Her father narrowed his eyes. In the past, his expression would have sliced her heart with fear. Tonight, she smiled and entered the packed lodge seeking Crazy One. The old woman sat in the singing circle.

  She sat cross-legged in the spot Crazy One indicted. The old woman patted her shoulder and stepped back into the crowd of people who would listen and not sing this night.

  Is not my uncle here?

  I know. Her txiỷak grew. This was the first time she could also speak with Crazy One. That revelation and her skin tingling and warming the moment Wewukiye stepped into the lodge increased her confidence. His essence seeped into her, calming her nerves. The other occupants watched expressionless as he sat in the singing circle directly across from her.

  Three fires blazed down the middle of the long structure. The middle fire glowed in between them, but it felt as though he sat beside her.

  “My father has asked me to begin the ceremony,” Thunder Traveling to Distant Mountains announced. He chanted and passed the singing stick to the man on his left. The man stood, singing of his weyekin and the gift given him, and how he used his gift on a hunting trip.

  The stick worked its way person by person toward Dove. The closer it came, the more her stomach knotted. The young girl beside her sang of her gift and how she fulfilled it each day by helping with family chores. She handed the singing stick to Dove and sat.

  The smoke in the lodge from the fires drifted across the heavy silence. Panic squeezed her chest, realizing she must sing for the first time in all her seasons. Many faces watched their expressions curious to see what brought her here this night.

  You are strong and true. Sing of your gift.

  She stood, drew in a breath, and smiled at the flutter in her belly. The child wished a song.

  “I was but a child of ten seasons when a beautiful doe spoke to me. She told me to remain loyal to my people. One day I would sit with a White man and set my people free.

  My gift is to visit with the agent to help my people avoid prosecution from the White man. Of this I have dreamed and now I sing.”

  Dove peered through the smoke at Wewukiye. He nodded.

  You have done well.

  She handed the stick to the next person.

  Her father stepped into the ceremonial circle. “How is it my daughter is just now singing of her gift when it was many seasons ago that she went on her vision quest?”

  Dove glanced at Thunder Traveling to Distant Mountains.

  “I would like to hear as well.”

  Her heart raced. Her hands shook. She knew they would question. All knew the winter after your quest you sang of your gift. She had believed her father, who refrained from engaging in matters, would not confront her publicly.

  Tell them the truth. You are strong.

  She inhaled deeply and peered at her father. “The day my gift was bestowed on me, I fell down the mountain. I returned bloody, covered in dirt and sticks. You did not ask me how it happened or if I were hurt. You said I had once again been a disappointment.” She glanced around the lodge, making eye contact with those of her immediate family. “I had learned through my seasons to not stick up for myself. Instead of rejoicing in my gift, I thrust it from my mind to wallow in how much I disappointed you.”

  Crazy One stepped forward, placing her hands on Dove’s shoulders. “Did my care not help her to remember?”

  Mumbling broke the silence that had filled the lodge from her first word.

  Thunder Traveling to Distant Mountains raised his arms. “Dove you will visit my father tomorrow.” He motioned to the woman next to her. “Sing of your gift.”

  Relief drained Dove’s legs of strength. She sank to a sitting position and tried to concentrate on the woman’s song.

  You did well. I am proud.

  Wewukiye’s words sent a wave of pride washing through her weakened body.

  Many sung their songs before the stick passed to Wewukiye. Again, the lodge held an unnatural silence as all waited to hear his song.

  The pureness and huskiness of his voice captured Dove’s heart and held her attention.

  “I travel the lands of Nimiipuu as was told in my gift. Mother Earth is my home, my heart. My gift is to learn from all Nimiipuu and help them grow in strength and become one united force to save their mother earth and prosper with her always.”

  He handed the stick to the next person and slowly sat back down. Dove watched the faces of the people. His words weighed on each man, woman, and child. She witnessed their deep inner reflections and a springing of hope shine in their eyes. He held an aura they all respected.

  You have a beautiful voice and an honest heart, she told him.

  He inclined his head slightly. Meet me at the cave when all is still in the camp.

  Her face heated, and her heart quivered. She had hoped for time alone with Wewukiye. But did they dare meet at the cave? The night before played in her mind.

  What about the sentries?

  Walk that direction. I will find you.

  She nodded slightly.

  The final person sang of his gift. She waited for several to tell stories and silently slipped from the lodge. Crazy One caught up to her.

  “Did you not tell them the truth? Will they not be fools to ignore the strength of your words?” The old woman motioned for her to enter their dwelling.

  Dove placed wood on the glowing embers. Smoke rose from the flames lapping at the wood. The acrid scent burned her nostrils. She wished to inhale the earthy scent of Wewukiye.

  “Does not my uncle wait for you?” The old woman sat beside the fire, drawing the willow frame she worked on every night onto her lap.

  How did she always know what had been spoken between she and Wewukiye? Heat rose up her neck, infusing her cheeks. Did the woman hear every word they exchanged? She shook her head. She did not hear spoken between the old woman and Wewukiye. The woman was wise and realized they would meet after the opening of their souls tonight at the gathering.

  “Where are the sentries?” She raised her head from her work. “Do you follow your heart?”

  “Is it safe for me to find Wewukiye?” Dove wanted more than anything to spend time in his embrace, but if it would damage what she established this night, she would remain in the tipi.

  “Does he not look after you? Does he not wait?” The old woman waved her hand toward the opening.

  Dove smiled, pulled her shawl tighter around her, and ducked out the entrance. The darkness of the night stalled her feet. She walked a straight line up the canyon wall directly behind their dwelling.

  Her heart pounded in her head, and her breathing rasped. In her exuberance to see Wewukiye she forgot to take her time.

  “You should rest.” Wewukiye stood by her side. Earth, wind, and grass scents wafted around her. His arm settled upon her shoulders, tucking her against his strong body.

  “You are all I need.” Her words spoke true. She could handle anything with him by her side.

  “We cannot go to the cave this night. The sentries have already walked by twice. They wish to catch us together.” He faced her.

  His eyes glowed in the dark night. “Do you trust me?”

  “With my life and that of my child.”

  He blinked. His eyes appeared brighter and bolder blue. “Your words fill me with gladness.”

  Before she could respond, he scooped her into his arms, and started at a run along the canyon wall. The ease of his strides and unlabored breathing did not surprise her knowing he was a spirit. His show of stamina marveled and excited her.

  Far from the encampment, he stopped. She remained snuggled against him, her
arms draped around his neck, the child cozy between them.

  “What is your wish this night?” he whispered in her ear.

  “To remain in your arms, feel the beat of your heart, and strength of your body.” She pressed her lips to his neck.

  “It is so.” He carried her into an area padded with dry grass and surrounded on three sides and the top with rock.

  Her feet slid to the ground, his hands came to rest on her hips. She raised her face to peer into his eyes. He drew her closer, lowering his head, and brushing his lips tantalizingly across hers.

  Eager to experience everything he had to offer, she pressed her body to his. Sensations of desire, honesty, and acceptance undulated through her body. To be one with this man would fulfill her every need.

  She kissed him open-mouthed, running her hands under his tunic, stroking the hardness of his muscles.

  Wewukiye wished to treat Dove with tenderness. He also wished to fulfill her needs. He returned her kiss, ardor for ardor, slipping her shawl to the grassy floor and gently placing her upon it. His body and her clothing would keep the cold night air from her.

  The bulge of her belly reminded him they could go no farther than kisses. There could be no doubts to who planted the seeds that brought this child to grow in Dove’s belly.

  He deepened the kiss, feeling protective and jealous. His heart ached for her to have gone through the attack. Rage simmered in him over the brutal White man being the one to take her innocence. He wished to show her the gentleness she deserved.

  Dove’s small hands continued their exploration under his tunic, searing a path up his back.

  He pulled out of the kiss and hissed, rolling to his side and drawing her tight against him. He wanted to stroke her skin but dare not, for fear he would not be able to stop.

  He kissed her forehead. “Your hands must not touch me—”

  Pleasure shook his body and blinded his thoughts at the soft touch of her hands ignoring his request and skimming up his belly and exploring his nipples. Wewukiye wrapped his arms around her, hugging tight, holding her hands still between their bodies.

  “Do not touch my skin with your skin. I cannot control—” He growled at the playful movement of her fingers. The sensation of her touch aroused him physically and spiked lightning in his mind.

  Her lips brushed along the underside of his jaw. The brief touch flared fire that jerked his manhood to a bulging, throbbing need.

  He pushed away from Dove and stood, pacing the small area like a starving mountain lion. He wanted her. All of her.

  “Did I do something wrong?” Dove knelt on the blanket, her hands raised in a plea. Her eyes shimmered with confusion.

  “You have done nothing wrong.” He paced trying to defuse the fire of need pulsing through him.

  “Why do you pace and run from my kisses?” She stood, walking toward him.

  He backed up, slamming his back against a cold, hard boulder. “I want you as a man wants a woman.”

  The corners of her mouth tipped into a seductive smile, and her eyes sparkled. “That is my wish. You have filled my empty life in every way. Now I wish you to be one with me.”

  “To become one is my desire as well.”

  She stepped close, her breasts and belly touching him. Her head tipped back, and she peered into his face. “You will not harm me or the baby. I have talked of this with Crazy One.”

  He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of his niece discussing the mating of a man and woman knowing it involved him.

  “If someone were to learn of us, they could question your accusation that Evil Eyes fathered this child.” He placed a hand on the side of her belly.

  He put his other arm around her shoulders, drawing her firmly against him. A tremor rippled through her body.

  “Is it that or because Evil Eyes has tainted me and you do not wish to be one with me?”

  The sadness and disappointment in her voice pierced his heart.

  He grasped her head in his hands and kissed her with all the pent up emotions he held for her. She sagged and he scooped her into his arms, carrying her to her shawl, and placing her upon it.

  “I wish to be one with you but believe it is best to wait until after the birth.” He kissed her closed eyelids, her nose, her chin. “We will be one the minute you have healed. I promise I will not let anyone come between us.”

  He kissed her neck, and she snuggled close, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  “I will count each day together as a blessing and dream of the day we become one.”

  Wewukiye held her sleeping body, wishing he could bring them both the ecstasy they wanted. But he could not harm her chance at proving the so-yá-po’s deceit. Even as his body ached to make her his.

  He watched the moonless night begin to fade and roused Dove. “You must return to the camp before the sentries change or the sun herald wakens everyone.”

  Le’éptit wax lepít

  (22)

  Dove emerged from the tipi after the Sun Herald welcomed the new day. Wewukiye had escorted her to the dwelling without anyone seeing them. She had spent the time between returning and emerging into the cold gray morning thinking about her actions and his reactions. Evil Eyes attack had convinced her she would never want a man to touch her. Now, she craved Wewukiye’s touch and the mating she understood would be nothing like the attack. But his honor as a spirit and his dedication to help her fulfill her gift had him restraining his own desires.

  That was why she would give her whole being to him. He would never take more than she was willing to give.

  Thunder Traveling to Distant Mountains walked up from the area the men bathed. She quickly picked up the rawhide bucket of water Wewukiye left each night by their dwelling and entered the warm isolation of the tipi. Did the others realize Wewukiye performed her chores?

  “Is not my uncle a good provider?” Crazy One held out a bowl of mush.

  “He takes very good care of us. I wish we could live as a family.” Dove sighed.

  Crazy One chuckled. “Is he not honorable? Does not my uncle suffer for your sake?”

  She stared at the old woman. “How is it you know everything we do?” She sat down, her stomach uneasy with the knowledge. “I do not like that you seem to know our every move.”

  “Do I not know my uncle? Do I not watch your love, your sorrow?” She patted her shoulder. “Do you know some needs are stronger than a spirit?” She winked and dug into her bowl.

  Dove pondered the woman’s words. Did that mean even Wewukiye would eventually not be able to fight his need for her? The idea lightened her mood. If they continued to spend time alone together, she could show him how much he meant to her.

  “Crazy One. It is One Who Flies.”

  The voice outside the dwelling jolted Dove from her reveries. Was he here to summon her to Chief Joseph again?

  Crazy One smiled and patted her shoulder as she stood and walked to the opening.

  “Why do you come to my dwelling so early?” she asked without opening the blanket.

  “Chief Joseph and Thunder Traveling to Distant Mountains wish to speak with Dove.” He coughed. “I am to escort her.”

  Crazy One winked at Dove. “Do they not listen now? Should you not finish your hair?”

  The old woman stepped out of the dwelling, and Dove hastily braided her hair, checked to make sure her clothes befitted one of her status, and ducked out the tipi.

  Her racing heart stopped when Wewukiye walked into the circle of dwellings. She wanted to run to him, but Crazy One captured Dove’s arm and shook her head. Dove peered at the woman.

  Do not let them know how much I mean to you. Wewukiye’s plea filled her head. I will be by your side, but you must be strong. Do not express your feelings toward me.

  I will try. She nodded to Crazy One, and the woman released her arm. One Who Flies watched her with a critical eye.

  Dove nodded to One Who Flies and fell in step by his side. She felt the weight of disapproving eyes.
A peek over her shoulder revealed her scowling father. She straightened her shoulders and held her head high crossing the distance from her dwelling to the chief’s lodge.

  One Who Flies held the blanket back, and she stepped into the largest dwelling other than the communal lodge. Wewukiye sat cross-legged near the fire, his back to the entrance. Thankful she would not meet his gaze, knowing the strength it held over her, she downcast her eyes and approached the three men seated across from him.

  Chief Joseph motioned for her to sit beside Wewukiye. She crossed her ankles and sank to the floor as best she could with her added weight, making sure she kept ample distance between her and Wewukiye.

  “Most Nimiipuu receive their gifts from their weyekins at a young age and sing of this soon after.” Chief Joseph watched her with watery eyes. “How is it you have been told your gift now?”

  “My chief, my gift was given to me at ten summers. Things happened afterward that hid my weyekin’s visit until the kindness of Crazy One helped to set it free.”

  He nodded. Thunder Traveling to Distant Mountains and Frog exchanged a look across their father.

  “This gift, tell it to me.” Chief Joseph leaned forward.

  Dove licked her lips and glanced from the chief to his sons and back to the chief.

  “My weyekin told me one day I would sit with a White man and set my people free. I believe this means I must travel to the Agent William and tell him of my attack by the so-yá-po with two different eyes, Two Eyes as you call him.” She stared unflinching at the chief. “I wish his evil to be written in the White man’s scribbles for others to see.”

  Chief Joseph studied her, the pop and crackle of the fire sounded like an explosion in the weighted silence. Thunder Traveling to Distant Mountains and Frog both remained solid as rocks on either side of their father.

  Chief Joseph nodded. “Your steadfast conviction about this attack makes me think you wish revenge.”

  “I do seek revenge.”

  The chief’s eyebrows rose, and he started to speak.

  Dove interrupted out of fear he would not listen otherwise.

  “I seek revenge so you can see he has evil plans for our people. You did not suffer his violence or his vicious words.” She closed her eyes and gulped. Images of the attack swirled in her mind.