by Paty Jager
“O’Rourke thinks highly of himself. And I’ve seen his mean streak, but to accuse him of this—” William shook his head. “He could rally the government to push you onto the reservation.”
“That is why we have asked Dove to not cause trouble.” Frog glared at her.
“But do you want this man to hurt more maidens? How can you fear him so much that you do not protect your people?” Dove held the fear gurgling in her stomach. Of Chief Joseph’s sons, all knew Frog held the strongest temper. The glare he bestowed upon her shivered her skin.
Wewukiye pressed against her legs. His confidence and strength flowed into her.
“No, it is wrong to look the other way if someone is hurting your people. But we have to go about this the legal way.” William stood and crossed to a small desk. He pulled out paper and a writing stick. He sat in a chair by the desk and smiled at her. “You coming to me is the right way. I will take down your statement. When the baby is born, have someone come get me. I’ll be the witness of his likeness to O’Rourke.”
Happiness swirled and warmed her chest. The White man believed her. She placed her hand on Wewukiye’s head. Qe`ci`yew`yew for telling me to come here.
She told her story again slowly, allowing William time to scratch his writing stick across the paper.
“Come sign your name.” He held the writing stick out to her.
Dove’s hand shook as she grasped the writing stick. She had not written her name since her two seasons at the mission school. She printed the letters M-A-R-Y.
William scratched his head and stared at her. “I thought your name is Dove?”
“At the mission they called me this and taught me to scribble this.” Resentment at the teachers’ refusal to call her by her given name came back. Her reluctance to accept their ways forced her decision not to return after two seasons.
“Damn missionaries.” The man mumbled in the White man’s language.
He crossed out her marks and on another piece of paper drew letters.
“Copy these letters onto the paper here.”
She copied the letters. D-O-V-E.
“That’s your name.” He smiled and took the writing stick from her.
She liked the roundness and softness of the letters.
William glanced at Frog. “Camp in the area behind the stables. And come by in the morning before you leave. I have something for your father.”
Frog nodded and walked to the door.
Dove stood. She nodded to William and followed Frog through the building. Hope spun inside like a leaf swirling on a sparkling stream. Not only did Wewukiye believe in her, she also had the faith of the White agent William. Her leaders must also believe in her or they would not have allowed her to speak with him.
Her light steps carried her across the wood floor like bird wings, floating and gliding. She stepped out of the building and met a whirlwind of snow and breath-stopping cold air.
Frog motioned to the others to follow him. She grasped the rope on her horse and followed. Wewukiye stayed by her side as they walked through the village and stopped behind a large structure with fences holding many horses.
A shiver of apprehension tickled the back of Dove’s neck. Someone watched them. Do you feel them?
Yes. Wewukiye moved closer to her side.
Le’éptit wax pá-xat
(25)
Dove couldn’t shake the feeling someone watched, and watched with menace in mind. She held Crazy One’s horse as the old woman dismounted with the help of Many Scars. The woman had sat too long in the cold. Her body moved in jerks and starts.
Dove scanned the area for firewood. “Crazy One needs warmth. Where can I find wood?”
“Too Short, find wood. The women cannot move about alone here.” Frog waved toward the large building. He strode to the horse carrying their hide and poles. “I will help you set up the structure.”
To know Frog would help with women’s work showed his favor for Crazy One. Dove draped a blanket around Crazy One and helped Frog.
They soon had a tipi large enough for them all to sleep under this stormy night. She did not like sharing with the men, but she understood they all needed to be out of the weather. Too Short unloaded an armful of wood. She started a fire in the middle of the tipi and settled Crazy One on a folded blanket near the growing heat.
The warriors forbid Wewukiye’s dog form shelter in the structure. Are you well?
I am fine. I would be better by your side.
She smiled. His presence filled her with security the vigilance of the warriors did not offer.
Dove dug through their pouches and handed the men and Crazy One bread and dried fish. She wished for water to boil and put warmth inside of Crazy One.
“Can we get some water? I would like to make a warming tea for Crazy One.”
Frog nodded to Many Scars. The warrior picked up a rawhide bucket and left the structure.
Do not leave. I will be back. Wewukiye instructed Dove and fell in behind the warrior trudging through the white world of heavy snowfall.
He circled the warrior and the well, watching the warrior struggle turning the handle that wound a rope around a stick. Relief flashed across the warrior’s face when a bucket emerged. He filled his rawhide bucket.
Wewukiye sensed another person drawing closer. He focused on the man raising his arm. Wewukiye leaped. His teeth clasped the man’s arm and Wewukiye growled. The warrior swung around, saw the confrontation, and grappled with the man. Wewukiye stepped back, giving the two men room to fight. He saw the glint of a knife clasped in the so-yá-po’s hand at the same time the two fell to the ground.
The two struggled and flipped across the ground too quickly for him to sink his teeth into the attacker’s leg. He barked and ran in circles around the two. Dove, send Frog to seek Many Scars.
The pounding of feet and shouts exploded from the fort and the tipi. He stopped barking as a soldier and Frog each grabbed their own.
“What’s going on here?” the soldier asked, taking the knife from the White man.
Many Scars sucked in air and pointed at his opponent. “This man jumped me as I filled the bucket.”
The so-yá-po glared at the Nimiipuu. Wewukiye wondered at his hostility. Nimiipuu visited this fort often. Why would he single out Many Scars to harm?
Frog interpreted Many Scars’s accusation to the soldier.
“Why are you causing trouble?” The soldier shook the White man. He firmly held his lips together, his narrow eyes shooting hatred at the Nimiipuu.
“I’ll lock him up until you leave tomorrow.” The soldier dragged the reluctant man away.
Is all well? Dove’s worry penetrated Wewukiye’s thoughts.
For now. He watched the warriors discuss the event again. Many Scars pointed to him and the two studied him. Frog shook his head and picked up the water bucket. They headed back to the tipi. Wewukiye walked behind them, listening to their conversation travel from suspicion to anger and back to suspicion.
“William would not allow harm to us.” Frog stated flatly.
“Someone does not want us here. I saw other Nimiipuu. Why did the man pick me to attack?” Many Scars stopped. His eyes burned with suspicion and disquiet.
“I do not know. When I visit with William tomorrow, I will tell him of this man.” Frog stopped at the tipi. He glanced at Wewukiye, then nodded, holding the flap open.
He had won over the warriors.
Wewukiye sauntered into the small structure. His gaze fell upon Dove kneeling beside Crazy One. She glanced over at their entry. Her eyes lit with happiness and a small smile tipped the corners of her lips. Her welcome warmed him more than the fire.
He walked past the women and lie down behind them, licking the snow from his paws.
I am pleased Frog allows you to join us.
It shows on your face.
Frog placed the water next to Dove. “Do not leave this dwelling without a warrior.”
Dove’s eyes narrowed slig
htly. Her annoyance bristled in the air.
Do not argue. He is only thinking of your safety. A so-yá-po jumped Many Scars. It is not safe here for us. Do as Frog asks.
Dove accepted Wewukiye’s caution and cast her eyes down. Worry accelerated her heart. Had her truth brought this on them?
The tension in the two warriors rippled through the small structure. They huddled on the other side of the fire whispering with the two who had remained in the tipi.
She dipped a cup of water from the bucket and dropped in a small rock—red from the fire.
The water rippled and moved as the hot rock heated the water. She dropped in calming herbs from her pouch. When the water stilled, she handed the cup to Crazy One.
“Are you not a sweet child?” The essence of life that usually surrounded the woman slowly grew and glowed as she sipped the warm drink.
Dove spread the blankets for their beds then started for the opening. Wewukiye joined her by the time she put a hand on the blanket entry. “I wish a moment outside.” She said to Frog.
He nodded and stood. She ducked out into the thick white world of falling snow. She clutched the scruff of Wewukiye’s neck and allowed him to lead her a short distance from the tipi. Frog’s presence offered security, not anger or embarrassment, after the events of the evening.
Dove grasped the dog’s fur and scurried to the warmth of the small structure. She quickly curled onto her blanket. Wewukiye snuggled against her back, and she fell asleep, wishing she could feel his arms around her.
«»«»«»
The following morning, Frog stormed back to their camp. Dove overheard him tell Many Scars the man who attacked him had been set free. Frog confronted William and learned the man had an accomplice in the soldiers. The agent would find out who the man was, but he could do little about the incident.
“William suggested we stay here until he finds answers.” Frog stormed to the already loaded animals. “Our business here is done. We will return to the band.” He mounted and waited for Many Scars to help Crazy One.
He made no move to help Dove. She stared pointedly at Frog. She needed a boost to mount her horse. The area offered nothing to stand on to raise her closer to the horse’s back.
He leaped off his horse and bent his leg to make a step for her to stand on to mount the animal. Anger and frustration seeped from him like a storm slithering down the side of the mountain in summer.
Dove scrambled to mount her horse and put distance between herself and the warrior. Wewukiye had disappeared before the warrior returned from meeting with William. Wewukiye’s essence lingered, reassuring her he remained near.
Frog mounted his horse with a flourish. The growing morning sun cast glittering stars across the white expanse of snow. The hooves of their horses squeaked with each step they took. The cold air bit at her cheeks. She drew her shawl up to cover all but her eyes. The trip back to their Anihm home would take longer and be more brutal than their trip to Lapwai.
The long cold day froze her toes and fingers. Her breath came in puffs when she dismounted that evening. They had stopped often without her asking Wewukiye to intervene. Frog realized their cold limbs needed frequent exercise to circulate their blood.
She worked as quickly as her stiff body allowed, setting up the cover for she and Crazy One. The old woman had become quiet the last part of the day. The cold seeped into her, drawing away her energy.
Too Short scrounged for wood and started a fire. The warriors and Crazy One huddled around the growing flames.
Dove spread the blankets and hides in their structure and straightened, closing her eyes. I welcome your company tonight.
As do I. Strong warm arms wrapped around her.
She opened her eyes and looked down at the male arms holding her back against his solid front. I have missed you.
He spun her, and his lips rested upon hers. The sealing of their spirits heated her to her toes. She pulled back fearful they would emit light and cause Frog to burst into the enclosure.
“Do not fear. The light of the other night joined our spirits, we are now one.”
His breathy whisper beamed radiance as bright and warming as their kiss the night she discovered him as an elk.
She pressed back into his arms, lifting her lips to his. “I have felt one with you since our first embrace.”
He kissed her deep and long.
The enclosure shook and Crazy One stuck her head in the opening. “Do you not want to feed yourself and the child?” She offered o’ppah bread and dried berries.
“Eat.” Wewukiye released her.
Dove took the bread and drew the woman into the enclosure. “Wrap in your blankets and rest.” She did not like the weakness she witnessed in the woman brought on by the snow and cold air. She needed the woman to help bring her child into this earth and the woman had become the family she lost.
Wewukiye helped ease Crazy One to the hide. He sensed his niece’s weakness. Touching her he cringed inside. This trip proved hard on her. Her years upon this earth were coming to a close. Her strength and belief in Dove would give her the will to remain to help her with the birth. Beyond that, he now saw why Sa-qan thought Dove should marry their nephew. Lightning Wolf’s family would provide companionship and shelter.
In his head, it would solve many problems. In his heart, he could not accept her living with any but him. “Now that Lightning Wolf has joined the Lake Nimiipuu for the winter you have met him. Do you feel he would make a good husband?”
Dove looked up from tending Crazy One. Her eyes narrowed. “I like his wife, Silent Doe. But I would not take him for a husband.” She shook her head. “I will not be in another family where I am useful and not loved.”
Her statement caused elation and sorrow. He was glad she would not marry his nephew, but he ached for the child who felt unwanted.
Dove carefully wrapped the old woman in many blankets, leaving few for herself.
“You must not become weak. It is not good.” He picked a blanket off Crazy One to place on Dove’s bed.
“I will have your arms to keep me warm. What I have is enough.” Dove tucked the blanket around the woman’s feet.
He noticed Dove’s food sat untouched upon a blanket. “You must also eat. I cannot give you nourishment.”
Dove smiled. “Your love nourishes me.”
He shook his head, but acknowledged he, too, was nourished by her love and acceptance. Wewukiye sat, drawing her against him to sit in the vee of his legs. “Eat.” He handed the bread to her.
“The man who attacked Many Scars, I have seen before.” He whispered in her ear.
She chewed her bread. Her jaw muscle moved against his cheek. The rhythm and motion instilled the sensation they were one. He placed his hand under her shawl and over the bulge of her belly. The slight rippling motions and gentle push against his hand heightened the sensation of oneness.
Dove finished eating and reached for the water pouch hanging from the crook on one of the poles. He grasped the bag and watched her swallow. A droplet of water trickled from the corner of her mouth.
He leaned down licking the moisture from her skin. The combination of cold water and her warm skin against his tongue sliced his body with need so deep and primitive he wondered at his sanity.
Dove shifted and their lips met. He slid them to recline on the buffalo hide and wrapped his leg around hers. His desire roared through him like a blast of fire—hot, burning, and insistent.
Her arms wrapped around his neck. She pressed her body tight against his, moving in slow rhythmic motions, further awakening his instincts to mate.
The shrill cry of Sa-qan screamed through his head freezing him in place and reminding him he could not cause Dove any harm.
He drew out of her embrace, kissed her again, and whispered so close his lips caressed hers, “Sa-qan calls.”
“I heard.”
He sighed and smiled. “I will return to keep you warm.”
She nodded and he wrapped
her in the remaining blankets. He kissed her forehead and shifted into smoke, exiting the enclosure and drifting into his elk form a good distance from the sleeping warriors and their horses.
He had contacted Sa-qan that morning to linger at the fort and learn about the man who attacked Many Scars. Her news would either lessen his guard or make him more vigilant. The gnawing inside, drew him to fear the later.
Le’éptit wax `oylá-qc
(26)
Wewukiye skidded to a stop on all four hooves in the knee-high snow at the sight of his sister huddled on a boulder.
“What have you discovered?” he asked, peering through the falling snow.
“The snow is your friend. It hides your tracks.”
Her words rippled fear along his rib cage. “The man from the fort follows?”
“He and two others left the fort half a day behind you. They know you are the Lake Nimiipuu at Anihm camp and will head that direction.” She ruffled her feathers, sending the snow that gathered on her flying.
“Who are they?”
“I could not hear well. He comes from the valley of the Lake Nimiipuu.”
Wewukiye stomped his hoof. “I know his face but cannot remember where I came across him.”
“Be watchful and keep all who travel with you safe.” Conviction in Sa-qan’s tone enforced his mission.
“They are all good of heart. All will be watched over.”
Sa-qan nodded. “I will watch the men. If they are close I will let you know.”
“Qe`ci`yew`yew, sister.”
Sa-qan leaped into the air and silently disappeared among the falling snow.
Wewukiye charged through the snow in the direction of the fort. He wanted to watch the men himself. He found them two ridges over from where Dove slept. Their hobbled horses shuffled in the snow scrounging for feed. They had a tarp set up, open to the front and angling to the ground in the back. All the men slept rolled up in blankets under the tarp.
He could learn little here this night. He loped back to the camp of the Nimiipuu, shifted to smoke, and seeped into the women’s structure. Dove snuggled close, pressing her body into his open arms.
