“You see what comes of helping those heathens?” Emmet bellowed, and turned his back and strode away.
I watched him winding through the crowd of Indians, who seemed so interested with Darie baking the bread. I was hoping he did not cause any trouble for us.
Nigel had run off, probably preparing for his new baptism, and Sport had trotted off with him. I felt Muraco take my hand in his.
“Your little brother seems happy to be here. Perhaps you will find happiness here also.”
“I am not staying,” I told him. “This is not my home, and it never will be. I would not even be here, if you hadn’t captured us so you could keep our food!” I scowled.
Muraco let my hand drop. His face had fallen, and his eyes darted over to where Lomasi was standing at a distance staring at us. Apparently, his telling her never to look upon his face again, had not daunted her, because she stood there glaring at both of us, without flinching.
I wondered if he was regretting giving up the woman he was supposed to marry, in order to protect me. Maybe once I ended up leaving, Muraco would have a change of heart. I knew that Lomasi would be glad to see me go.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
We all sat in a circle, passing a loaf of bread around, as each person took a piece, and then passed it to the next person. When one loaf was eaten this way, a new loaf was passed about the circle, until all the loaves of bread that Darie had baked had been eaten. The members talked among themselves as they ate, and passed the bread around. I did not see anyone take more than their share, and sometimes they passed the loaf on without taking a piece, offering their share to an elder, or a child, who they believed needed it more than they did. Their politeness impressed me, especially when it came to the elderly.
Once the loaves were all eaten, everyone rose up and followed the medicine man, who brought us all to the river. Nigel walked proudly beside the medicine man with a wide grin across his face. I noticed Emmet did not look happy, but he followed, just the same.
When we reached the river, the Medicine man turned toward the group, explaining that the tribe was welcoming a new member into their midst. He explained that once the old person was washed away, the new person would be born. That new person would be as one of them, and never be considered any other than a member of their tribe. The new person would receive a new name, which he would go by from that day forth.
After the medicine man spoke, Nigel stepped forward, and agreed to wash his old self away and take on a new self. Next, he took his shirt and leggings off, only leaving a breech cloth around his waist, and waded out into the river. Once he reached the middle he laid down in the water, covering his whole body, then came up, his arms reaching to the sky. I was sure that someone instructed him on what was expected of him, if he wanted to join the tribe.
Then the Medicine man gave him a new name, calling him Bay Khaul Lallo, which meant ‘Turn Around Man’. Once he was named, each member of the tribe welcomed him as one of them, shaking his hand, or patting him on the back. Even some of the young girls and women gave him a hug. Emmet refused to show any acceptance of what Nigel had done. He merely turned his back as Nigel came up to him.
“You’re not my brother any longer,” Emmet stated. “You are one of them now. I hope you are happy!”
Then he stomped off, and I could see Nigel’s face fall.
“It’s all right,” I told him, giving him a hug. “He doesn’t understand, but even if you enjoy being an Indian, it doesn’t mean you can’t come back with us if you change your mind later.”
“There is nothing to go home to,” Nigel complained. “Father is dead. Everything has changed. There is nothing there but the farm. Here I have friends, and people to do things with. I will learn new skills, and learn to live off the land, just the way the Indians do.”
“The problem is, the government is taking the land away from the Indians. Pretty soon, there will be no land to live off of the way the Indians are used to doing,” I told him.
“Then I will teach them how to farm,” Nigel said brightly. “From now on, you have to call me by my Indian name, Bay Khaul Lallo.”
Nigel turned away and went to join his new Indian brothers, and I saw Apenimon taking him under his arm.
“Come,” Muraco said as he took up my hand again. “We will go to the welcoming ceremony.”
He handed me some moccasins to wear, and I put them on. They felt soft and strange on my feet.
He led me back to the central camp fire, where the old men usually told stories to the young of the tribe, and the tribe ceremonies took place, Muraco explained. I could already hear the drums beating as we got closer.
The medicine man was doing a chant, and shaking a rattle around Nigel to ward off any bad spirits, and put his heart in the right rhythm. Then some of the braves came forward and started dancing in a circle around the medicine man and Nigel, singing their own chant, while the rest of the tribe sat in a circle, chanting as well. Some would get up to dance with the rest. It all seemed extemporaneous, as the group took part in the celebration of a new adopted member to the tribe.
The celebration seemed like it was going to last all night, as the drums got louder and the chants became more pronounced. Wood kept being added to the fire as it leapt and fell, it seemed to the time of the beat, and cast distorting shadows over the faces of those who joined in the dance.
I could see the happy expression on Nigel’s face as he joined in the dance, and got caught up in the excitement. I wished I felt as elated as he seemed to be. I looked around, but did not see Emmet anywhere. It seemed like our family was being torn apart. I realized it had all started when I first decided to help Muraco, and now it seemed like everything was starting to spin out of control. I wondered if my life would ever be the same again, and I had to admit I didn’t think it would.
Not far away, I could see Bertha, who was accompanied by a tall, older Indian. He seemed rather possessive of her, making sure she remained at his side at all times. I didn’t think she would try to escape, since there was no place for her to go, but she looked very frightened, and frail, not like the haughty woman who came to our farm and tried to take over, along with her son.
I realized that losing her son had changed her, but what did she think losing our father would do to us, I wondered. She deserved everything she got, I told myself, and I didn’t care if she ended up remaining as a permanent guest, or perhaps prisoner, of the Indians, or went back to Dodge. I was just glad I did not have to look at her face everyday and remember how she brought my family to this.
Sport chose to come and lay down beside me, since Nigel seemed occupied with the dancing. I wondered what he thought of all this? He had been used to living on a quiet farm, and now he was in the middle of strange people and a lot of noise going on. I absently patted him on the head.
After awhile, I informed Muraco that I was tired and wanted to go back to the lean-to. He shrugged. Although he looked a little disappointed having to leave the event, he accompanied me back, with Sport at our heels. Sport remained outside when we went in. There was something about the lean-to that he didn’t seem to like, I thought.
When we entered the lean-to, Muraco began undressing, and so I followed suit, since it was rather uncomfortable to wear my dress while I slept, anyway, and I felt Muraco would insist I disrobe the same as him. We crawled under the soft buffalo hides, and Muraco pulled me against him, as before. I was starting to get used to having him there, and especially at night, when I felt the most lonely and unsure of myself.
I remembered the angry look Lomasi had given me, from across the circle during the dance. She had gotten up to dance, and deliberately danced in front of Muraco and myself, as though to taunt him, for having chosen to protect me from her. I could see Muraco’s eyes following her movements, and I wondered what he had been thinking. The drums were still going strong, in the distance.
Now Muraco’s hands smoothed my hair, and caressed my back, but he didn’t say anything to me. P
erhaps he was regretting his decision to keep me at his side, and shun his old girlfriend by doing so. Only I had not asked him to keep me in his lean-to. I had intended to go with Darie. It had been his choice to keep me with him, so he had no one to blame but himself.
After a long silence, he started to speak. “Tomorrow we will chink the lean-to,” he said, absently. “You will have to show me how it is done.”
“It’s not hard. You just have to mix up some sand, clay, and straw or grass together, and press it into the cracks between the branches of the lean-to walls,” I explained.
“Then we will stay warm over the winter,” he murmured.
“Yes,” I agreed.
“Your brother will make a good Kiowa,” he said, changing the subject. “Perhaps you would like to become one as well.” His voice sounded almost too hopeful.
“And leave my farm and everything my father worked for, for the last four years? In the spring, Emmet and Darie and I will have to return to the farm and start the next season of planting. It is the only way to survive. You and your tribe will have a hard time finding enough game to support you over the next winter, if you keep getting pushed back. I could never take that risk.”
“It would not be that way, if the whites were not so greedy for our land. We could easily survive on what Mother Earth offers us.”
“I am afraid that the Indian’s way of life is never going to be the same, Muraco. More and more people from the east are coming west, and there is no way you can stop it. The government believes they own all the land from one coast to the other, because the English came and took over the land, back before America was even an official country.”
“It is not their place to do so. Only they have killed so many of us; we don’t have enough warriors to fight against them. Once again, Dohasan will have to speak to the leaders, and make a new treaty with them, which will mean we must suffer whatever they demand of us.”
“I am sorry this is happening to you, but I am not the one responsible, and all I want to do is go and live happily on my farm again, with my brother and sister, if Nigel refuses to come back.”
“I think that Tala wants your sister as his woman,” Muraco stated.
“She is too young to become anyone’s woman. She is only fifteen!” I was starting to feel alarmed.
“Fifteen is plenty old to have a man and raise a family. She may not want to come back with you.”
“Of course, she will! She loves the farm. It is our home!”
“Maybe she will choose an Indian village as her home,” he said cunningly.
“Well it doesn’t matter! I know Emmet would never choose an Indian village over our farm, so he and I will have to return on our own, if Nigel and Dorie choose to remain here.”
I was starting to feel desperate, at the thought of losing half of my family. I could understand Nigel’s infatuation with the Indian way of life, but certainly Dorie would find it way too archaic to ever desire to live among the Indians as one of them.
“I will miss you, if you go back,” he said quietly.
I thought about how comfortable I was feeling in his arms at the moment, and realized I would miss him too. I had missed him when he had left our farm, after his wound healed, but no matter how much I may miss Muraco, there was no way I was just going to leave our farm and join him along with his people.
“Then enjoy my company over the winter,” I murmured, “because, I fear, that is all you are going to get.”
Muraco crushed me against him, and I could feel his hard strong body pressing against my own body. It didn’t feel decent to have him holding me the way he was, when our clothes were off, so why was I feeling so content, I wondered.
“Maybe you will change your mind,” he said against my ear, and his breath sent chills through me, causing goose bumps to jump across my skin.
I could feel his lips kiss against my cheek, and my heart stilled at the touch of his lips, as it wandered closer to my mouth, but he never reached my mouth. He merely pulled my head down on his chest, like he had done from the beginning of our sleeping together. I had to admit; I was disappointed that he had not kissed me.
When I awoke the next morning, Muraco had already left the lean-to. I was surprised, because the last time he did that, Lomasi had come and tried to use her knife on me. I sat up and shrugged into my dress over my head.
Muraco entered the lodge and handed me a biscuit with a piece of ham inside of it. I knew it came from one of our pigs, and I could tell that Dorie had probably made the biscuits.
“Tala is very impressed by the way your sister can make such good food. I don’t think he will be willing to let her leave in the spring,” Muraco smiled, eyeing me.
“I don’t think it will be up to him whether she leaves or not,” I said, starting to feel anxious.
I decided I needed to talk with my sister.
“After we eat, we can start chinking the lodge,” Muraco informed me.
“Fine, but I want to talk to Dorie before we start,” I said. “We have hardly said two words to each other since we got here.”
“I will take you to her. She is still cooking food for others.”
I followed Muraco to where Dorie was making more biscuits in the reflector oven.
“Can you imagine that the Indians don’t know anything about reflector ovens?” Dorie asked me as we approached.
“Well, now that you have shown them how it works, others can make their own to use to bake their food in,” I suggested.
“Actually, I like cooking for Tala’s friends and family. It makes me feel useful, since there isn’t much to do in the winter time, so Tala tells me.”
“I am glad you are happy. You looked so frightened when we first got here,” I reminded her.
“Tala has been very kind to me,” she mumbled. “Do you know that the Indians don’t sleep with any clothes on?” she half-whispered. “Tala won’t even let me use the nightgown I brought. Does Muraco make you sleep like that too?”
I nodded, feeling like I should try to protect her from such situations, but not knowing how to do it.
“It’s not so bad. I mean at first I wouldn’t even look at Tala, because I felt so embarrassed. Now I am starting to get used to it.”
“He hasn’t done anything with you, has he?” I asked anxiously.
She shook her head no. “He has asked me to be his woman,” she gave a shy smile.
“What did you say?” I prodded.
“I said I would think about it. I sort of like Tala.”
“You can’t be serious,” I said, feeling more shocked than I thought I would.
“Where will I ever find a husband on the farm?” Darie asked. “There aren’t any boys any place near our farm, and unlike you, I don’t plan on becoming an old maid. I want a husband and children.”
“But surely not an Indian husband,” I muttered.
“I just said I would think about it. I didn’t agree to anything.”
“You will talk to me before you decide on anything, won’t you?” I asked anxiously, wishing I could whisk her right back to the farm, before that could happen.
“Of course. Whatever you do, don’t say anything to Emmet. He is so upset about Nigel wanting to become an Indian, I am afraid he might try to shoot Tala, if he knew about it.”
“I won’t tell him. I don’t think he likes any of this, but what else could we do? He was angry that I told them about the extra food we put in the cave.”
“I was upset at first too, but then I got to thinking, with out our extra food, everyone would have even less to eat. At least this way we can eat the kind of food we are used to having, and share it with the Indians at the same time.”
“When It all runs out, I don’t know what we will do, then,” I sighed.
I felt Muraco’s hand upon my shoulder.
“Come, we have work to do,” he told me.
He was carrying two brass buckets under his arms.
“We can use these to mix the c
lay and sand in, to make the chink,” he informed me, and I nodded, following him back towards the river.
I pulled my skirt up between my legs, and tucked it under the waist band, to keep it from dragging in the mud on the banks of the river. When we had bathed there, I had noticed a pocket of clay on one side of the river, and I waded across to where it was. Muraco followed closely behind me, and we started digging our hands into the clay that sucked at our fingers as we tried to remove it from the bank. Once I had enough in my bucket, I walked downriver until I came upon sand, and added that to my bucket. Muraco was doing the same.
Finally, we took our buckets to the other side of the river, and found dry grass to mix into our make-shift mortar. Once that was done, we took our buckets to the lean-to and I showed Muraco how to press it into the cracks of the walls. It was a time-consuming job, and we had to make several trips to the river and back, to continue to get more chinking material.
After awhile, a group of Indians started to gather around us, intrigued with what we were doing. When they saw what we were trying to do in order to weatherize our little shelter, they too started to bring buckets and gather clay and sand, to do their own shelters.
I smiled to myself. I was teaching them how to build a good weather tight structure, only when winter was over, they would end up leaving it behind, I thought. It seemed like a lot of wasted work, just to leave and go to a new camp ground, but then, I thought next winter, they could probably use them again, if they didn’t have enough buffalo hides to make new teepees.
My hands were covered in slimy clay, and I was starting to get tired, as we stood at the bank of the river, collecting more clay for our buckets. The others had already left to go back to camp to eat. We could smell Darie’s cooking from here, and many other Indians were cooking their supper in their brass kettles. I stepped back, and started to stagger, as I caught my foot in a hole. With a surprised shriek, I grabbed out for Muraco, to catch my balance, clinging to his neck with my clay covered hand, smearing clay across the side of his face.
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