Spirit of the Lake

by Paty Jager

  “What did Sa-qan want?” she whispered.

  He did not want to keep secrets, but he also did not want her worrying. “White men left the fort headed this direction.” She stiffened in his arms. “Do not worry, they will not find us.”

  She relaxed in his arms, and he kissed her head as her breathing evened.

  He would leave early and follow the men. If the wind showed favor with him, he could hide in the trees and their words would drift to him.

  «»«»«»

  Dove woke with a start. The piercing cry of an eagle rang in her ears. Her body shook as she sat up. Noise outside the enclosure did not sound like other mornings. Horses snorted and stomped their hooves. Men’s raised voices added to the unsettling sounds. She woke Crazy One and immediately began gathering their belongings.

  She peeked through the opening.

  Three White men scuffled with the warriors.

  Visions of White men, soldiers, and Nimiipuu clashing on horses with women and children running for cover flashed in her mind. She squeezed her eyes closed. They had to stop this.

  Where are you? No reply from Wewukiye riveted her to alert. She yanked her head back inside.

  “Wewukiye is not answering me. There are so-yá-po challenging our warriors.” She stared into Crazy One’s weary eyes. Fear for Wewukiye and those she traveled with surged cold though her body.

  “Will he not come? Is he not here to protect all of us?”

  “I hope you know what you are saying and he is fine.”

  A horse squealed and a man howled. She could not sit inside like a cowering mouse. She was the reason for the trip. Her action could not harm others.

  Dove left the safe confines of the enclosure. Crazy One’s gnarled hands grasped her ankle, but her strength easily shook the old woman free.

  Too Short lay bleeding in the snow. A so-yá-po with injuries crawled toward the trees. Frog wrestled a man with a rifle. Many Scars and Red Bird struggled with a large man.

  What should I do? Why didn’t Wewukiye come? How could she help the warriors?

  Thunk! The man with the rifle knocked Frog in the head. The warrior sunk to his knees and fell face first in the snow. The man glared at her, stalked forward, grabbed her arm, and dragged her to one of the saddled horses.

  She struggled and fell to her knees, dragging her body through the cold snow, leaving marks and hindering his retreat. He knocked her alongside the head, shooting pain behind her eyes and churning her stomach. She slouched to the ground. He grabbed her roughly, tossing her over the horse like a dead animal. The pressure on her belly and her throbbing head spun her into darkness.

  «»«»«»

  Wewukiye staggered to his feet. He rubbed a hand over his face and stared around him. Recollection came slow.

  Three White men had galloped over the rise, surprising him. The next thing he knew explosions in his elk form ripped through him. He woke up and shifted to his man form.

  He stared down at the elk. The violation of the body he’d occupied for so many years, roiled his stomach and surged anger—hot and vile. They took the hindquarters and the tender meat along the backbone. Leaving the carcass mutilated and wasted. So wasteful. So like a so-yá-po. A Nimiipuu took all of an animal they killed.

  Rage pounded in his head and accelerated his heart. He was left in man form until he found another animal to occupy.

  Traveling as a man would take him longer to return to the group than as an elk. He glanced at the desecrated form. He would have to find another fine specimen to use as his conveyance in elk form. Over the seasons he had been hosted in many fine bull elk. They had all gone to the earth at an old age. This was his first loss at the hands of others—White men who did not revere their kill and use the whole animal. Anger rose in bitter bile in his throat.

  He used the sun to determine the direction to find Dove and the rest. He set his path and trudged through the snow.

  Urgency pushed him through the knee-high snow. He thanked the Creator for his endurance as a spirit and kept a steady pace.

  Brother, there is trouble. Sa-qan’s words struck him in the chest as mightily as the bullets which took his elk.

  Dove? Dread sunk in his gut heavy as a granite boulder.

  The so-yá-po took her. The Nimiipuu warriors split up. Two are taking our niece back to their winter home, two are following the so-yá-po.

  He dropped to his knees. Why had he left her side? Pain, raw and searing ripped through his chest. He failed to be there when she needed him.

  Brother. She needs you. Sa-qan’s words burned in his head as a reprimand.

  I have lost my elk vessel. He had to find a way to catch up to them.

  Sa-qan’s cry echoed in the clear morning air. Her form circled above him, highlighted by the bright blue sky.

  Her call lured a hawk. The bird dived his way. He dissolved into smoke and entered the creature. Qe`ci`yew`yew, sister. Side by side they flew to help Dove.

  «»«»«»

  Dove wiggled and her belly churned. Unbearable pressure in her head throbbed. She opened her eyes. Her body ached from cold and her position folded over the horse. She moved her hands, amazed they were free. She moved her feet, they also were free.

  Through the pain shooting behind her eyes she glanced at the man riding ahead of her, leading her horse. She twisted her head, glanced back, and spied a large man hunched over his horse. She could not slide off unseen.

  She clutched the saddled, pulled her body up, and straddled the animal. The pounding in her head angered her stomach. She leaned to the side and retched.

  Where was Wewukiye? Crazy One? And the warriors?

  I need you. Sending the thought increased the throbbing. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the sway of her horse. Moving her body with the jostling of the animal lessened the jolt on her pulsing head.

  Her hands and feet tingled and ached from the cold. They kept up a relentless pace. The earthy scent of horse sweat normally relaxed her, but today it meant the horses were being pushed, and she was being drawn farther from the ones who could help her.

  An eagle’s cry pierced the air.

  We are here.

  Wewukiye’s words brought tears to her eyes. She swallowed the lump of relief in her throat. We need you.

  Warmth radiated through her body. She felt the presence of another. Her head ceased hurting, and her fingers and toes warmed and wiggled. You said you could not enter me.

  It is I.

  Sa-qan’s voice soothed the last of her worries. The presence of another lessened.

  You have left my body?

  Yes. We will now enter the horses of the men. Hold this one steady. We will return.

  Dove grasped the handle on her saddle and watched as both horses carrying the White men surged forward, catching the men off guard. The man in front of her dropped the lead rope to her horse, jerking to calm his horse and cling to the saddle. The man behind her shot past. Their horses raced through the snow.

  Turn your horse around. Frog is headed this way.

  She leaned down, caught the rope in her hand, and turned the horse to follow the tracks back to Frog. The essence Sa-qan infused in her body kept her warm. Her horse crested a hill, and she spotted two warriors on horseback loping her direction. She waved. Then remembered she would have to find a way to explain how she got away.

  Frog rode up alongside her, his eyes scanning all around them. “Is this a trick?”

  “No. Their horses gave them fits and took off. Where is Crazy One?” She hoped to focus him on something other than how she became free of the White men.

  He narrowed his eyes and stared at her. “Their horses ran away? Why did yours not?”

  She shrugged and nudged her horse forward. “It is trained better. Where is Crazy One?”

  “The old woman is with Too Short and Red Bird. They are headed back to the Anihm camp.” Frog rode on one side of her and Many Scars claimed the space on her other side.

  “
Why did they take me?” Dove asked already knowing he would not have an answer.

  The warrior stared at her a long time. “I do not know. Have you seen these White men before?”

  She shook her head. A slight ache started in her head, reminding her of the blow. “He did not treat me like he planned to let me live.” The idea of what could have happened to her had Sa-qan and Wewukiye not arrived, radiated cold and numbing shivers up her back.

  “You will live and so will the child you say will set our people free.” Frog nudged his horse into a quicker pace, trotting ahead of Dove and off the trail the two processions of horses made. Many Scars dropped behind her. Single file they rode through the day and half the night, coming upon the other three as the moon started descending toward the mountains.

  Her body ached from relentless hours on the horse and the cold seeping through her few layers. Crazy One placed a steaming drink in her hands and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders as she sat by the fire in the tipi they erected to house more than she and Crazy One. The injured warrior lay on a blanket. Crazy One tended his wounds.

  All is well.

  Dove smiled. She tried a couple times during the day to speak with Wewukiye. They will not be back?

  They would need horses first. Their horses tossed them in a pile of snow.

  She heard the smile in his words.

  Why did they take me? All day she wondered about this. Did they hear what she told Agent William? Were they friends of Evil Eyes?

  Sa-qan will keep watch over them. We believe they will visit Evil Eyes.

  Even though she also believed that was the connection, a tremor of fear wracked her body knowing he and Sa-qan believed the same.

  Crazy One returned to the fire and winked. “Is he not sleeping well?” She nodded to the wounded warrior and eyed the cup in her hand. “Is not my uncle what you need?”

  “What about the other warriors? They aren’t staying out in the cold all night?” She wanted Wewukiye’s arms around her, but they dare not have the others questioning how he came to be here.

  “Do they not take turns watching? Is their fire not warm?” She nodded to the bedding she spread far away from the wounded man. “Will you not be in darkness?”

  Dove hugged the old woman. “Thank you.”

  She lay on the buffalo hide and drew the blankets over her. Soon warmth ran the length of her back and the back of her legs. Strong arms wrapped around her and air puffed against her cheek.

  “Sleep well,” whispered in her ear.

  “Now that you are here, I will.”

  Wewukiye breathed in her herbal scent and relaxed for the first time since escaping the dead elk. Failure had ripped through him realizing the White men had taken her, and he had feared a repeat of her attack by Evil Eyes, or worse, her death. He held her safe in his arms and vowed to never leave her alone. Her powers exceeded those of mortals, but she was still a mortal.

  Mortals and spirits could not exist together, even though she had welcomed his differences with an open mind and heart. His heart squeezed with the knowledge they could not continue to exist like this. One day Crazy One’s body would give out and they would no longer have someone to help them be together.

  He loved this mortal, but how could they remain together without his identity being revealed?

  Le’éptit wax `uyné-pt

  (27)

  Dove welcomed the melting snow and warmer days and nights. Soon they would move to the camas meadows and begin gathering the kouse bulbs. After the trip to see Agent William, the elders and Chief Joseph treated her with more respect. Her family still kept their distance, but others had begun to nod or talk with her as she moved about the encampment.

  The trip proved hard on Crazy One. She did not move as spry as before and drank more herbs for her aching bones. Dove did most of the chores required for the two of them. Wewukiye always had wood piled by their dwelling and water in buckets by the wood. It tickled her no one questioned the appearance of the wood and water, and they now treated Wewukiye as one of the band.

  She glanced up as the spirit of her thoughts walked across the open area. His stride, the width of his shoulders, and the carriage of his head posed a regal view. An outsider would think him one of Chief Joseph’s sons.

  A smiled pulled at the corners of her mouth. Her heart always expanded at the sight of him.

  “You appear happy today. Is it the fine weather?” He stood back much too far, but correct for their status.

  “The sun and the warm weather make me yearn to dig roots.”

  He laughed. “That is still a moon away.” His gaze lit on the now obvious bulge of child. “You should be caring for a child by then.”

  She wrapped an arm around her belly. Happiness swirled. “I am anxious to meet this child.”

  “Do not be too anxious. To have the baby early would not be good.” The mischief lighting his eyes made her laugh.

  “Crazy one would not allow the child to come early.”

  Wewukiye nodded his head. “This is true. How is my aunt today?”

  Dove’s elation wavered. “She gets better as the weather warms. I fear she will not be of this earth much longer.” Sadness washed over her saying out loud the words haunting her thoughts and fears.

  “She will not let you or the child down.” Wewukiye took a step toward her.

  She longed to lean into his strong embrace. Instead, she stood tall. “This I know.”

  “Are you and Silent Doe meeting today?”

  She nodded. The third wife of Lightning Wolf, a relative of Crazy One, had asked Dove to help her pound herbs into powder for Crazy One.

  “We are working in front of her dwelling.” She knew Wewukiye and Crazy One wished her to become friendly with the family. She enjoyed all three wives, Lightning Wolf, and the four children, but she did not like the idea of Lightning Wolf marrying her once the child came.

  She stared into Wewukiye’s eyes. She would only give her body to the man before her.

  “Crazy One will not always be around. You need support of family. They will be your new family.” Wewukiye again took a step toward her.

  I wish to visit with you in the cave. She yearned to wrap her arms around him and ply him with kisses. He no longer slept with her, and their time together happened only in the open where watchful eyes took note.

  After you help Silent Doe, come to the cave, but make sure no one sees.

  The baby pushed on her belly and fluttered. She placed her hand over the spot and marveled at the size and shape of the foot. Soft, sweet, rich elation flowed through her.

  The love and awe reflecting in Dove’s eyes, struck Wewukiye like a club knocking his legs out from under him. His hand reached toward hers. An inner voice warned against it, and he jerked back. He clenched his fist to keep from reaching toward her again.

  “Do you need to sit?” he asked, motioning to the log they used to visit.

  “No. The child is strong. I can feel his foot as he grows and pushes for more room.” She gazed into his eyes. Her love for the child shone like the brightest of stars.

  Crazy One exited the tipi. “Is this not what you need to help Silent Doe?” She handed a hide bag to Dove. The heavy stone bowl and pedestal in the bag stretched the bottom.

  Dove took the pouch. “You will be fine while I help?”

  Crazy One nodded. “Is not my uncle going to take me on a walk?”

  Wewukiye smiled and agreed, this being the first he had heard of their walk.

  Dove glanced from one to the other. “Do not take her too far. Her body is still healing.”

  He smiled. “My niece does not want to walk; she wishes to warm my ears.” A gnarled hand smacked his arm and he laughed.

  Dove laughed and waved to them. He watched her cross to the far end of the dwellings. Her small body waddled slightly from the weight of the child.

  “Do your eyes follow her? Do your actions make her yours?” Crazy One drew him behind their tipi and up the side of
the cliff, away from the activity.

  “She is mine. I just cannot do anything about it yet.” He pondered their predicament night and day. She would not marry anyone other than he. They were meant to be together. He just could not figure out how.

  “Are your actions not seen by many?” Crazy One sat on a boulder in the sun. She patted the flat part next to her.

  Wewukiye sat, staring down onto the encampment. His gaze quickly sought Dove kneeling next to Silent Doe as the two used long rocks to pound dried herbs to powder. His anger simmered noticing Lightning Wolf watching the two. He knew Crazy One had asked the warrior to marry Dove.

  “Do not push Lightning Wolf to marry Dove. She will refuse, and I will not allow it.”

  “How do you know she will not see it the best for her child?” Crazy One picked at invisible things on his buckskin shirt.

  He thought of the expression on her face as she experienced the movement of the child. Her eyes had lit with such love and contentment. Would she pick Lightning Wolf over him to give the child a safe home?

  He shook his head. She would do what was right for the child, but would she do what was right for her? He could see her sacrificing her needs to give the child what he needed. Did his selfish wish to want her for himself override what was best for them both? This thought tugged on his mind and heart.

  “Do you not make her feel like a woman?” Crazy One’s eyes twinkled. “Does she not say your name in her sleep and moan?”

  The thought of the woman dreaming of him, sent his blood racing and heating.

  “This is why she belongs with me and not Lightning Wolf.” He stared into the old woman’s eyes. “She would not give herself to him and would remain unfulfilled.”

  Crazy One nodded. “Do you speak the truth? Does not giving your child a family also bring fulfillment?”

  Wewukiye stared at the woman in the village below. She had sacrificed so much already. An unloving family, the attack of Evil Eyes. Would she also sacrifice being fulfilled as a woman to give her child happiness? If she did—would he be able to abide by her choice?