Stolen Ecstasy
Page 27
The two women began their task at a leisurely pace. “Is love a lesson to be learned?” Bonnie inquired softly, tossing a limb on the pile.
Rebecca laughed. “And you claimed to be a novice with men and such emotions?” she jested. “You sound as if you know more than I do, and I’m supposed to be the experienced one.”
“I can see more clearly than you right now. You’re too involved in this situation. I won’t get in your way, Rebecca,” she promised.
To Bonnie’s surprise, Rebecca responded merrily, “And I won’t get in yours. We’ll let Fate decide for us, agreed?”
Bonnie smiled. “I think I’m going to like it here,” she concluded aloud. “I’ve never had a friend like you before. Thanks, Rebecca.” Enjoying this quiet time, they gathered far more wood than they needed.
“Maybe that’s why we took an instant liking to each other, why we can trust each other.” Rebecca mused aloud. “I’ve never had a friend like you before either. I lived in the wilderness with my parents until I was fifteen. My mother was mute, so we couldn’t talk like regular folks. We had to use sign language. When they died of a fever, I was taken to St. Louis to live with my mother’s uncle. He was an evil, mean devil. Your father sounds like him! I worked in his roadhouse for free, like a slave. The few women working there weren’t the types to make friends, and the ladies didn’t even notice me. When my guardian decided to move into a new area, he forced me to go along. Like you, I had no choice. Oh, how I dreamed of escaping from his clutches! Some nights, I even plotted how to kill him and run away to where the law could never find me,” she disclosed, her face flushing with unforgotten hatred.
Rebecca’s voice chilled as she continued her shocking tale. “Along the way, some of the soldiers started making offers for… my company and… attentions. Uncle Jamie was greedy and evil; he had actually planned to deal with them, and then the Indian attack came. The captain in charge of the wagon train had wanted to be first to have me! He was shouting all kinds of threats and trying to rip my clothes off when Bright Arrow appeared like magic. I’ll never forget that lecherous snake! I’m glad he’s dead; now he can’t attack any more innocent victims. The worst part was being so helpless; not a single man would defend me against Uncle Jamie! I was rescued, Bonnie, not captured. The trouble was, Bright Arrow and I did the forbidden—we fell in love. And we haven’t stopped paying for that innocent mistake since we met. And I always thought love would be so simple and easy,” she murmured, slinging a heavy limb into the bushes to vent her anger. She instantly retrieved it, for she knew it would burn a lengthy time.
“I’m so sorry, Rebecca. It must have been terrible for you. How long will they be away? Are they riding into danger?” Bonnie returned to the original questions with which she had begun their conversation.
“Any time an Indian rides into a white settlement, he faces danger. But with Bright Arrow, there is more. His father is the most wanted Indian on the soldiers’ and whites’ lists. Sometimes I think they would sell their souls to have Gray Eagle’s scalp. He’s untouchable. He’s like magic, and no force can harm him. In spite of his fierce hatred for whites, he’s a great man, Bonnie. I doubt a braver, more intelligent, or daring warrior has ever lived. Bright Arrow looks and fights like him, and he was to become the next chief; that’s why it was so destructive for him to take me. How could an enemy become the wife of their glorious warrior and future chief? And since the soldiers and whites can’t get to Gray Eagle, they’ll settle for Bright Arrow. He’ll never be safe alone. Someday someone will recognize him. He belongs with his people, at his father’s side. He should become another legend, not some forgotten exile or white trophy. I don’t know how long he’ll be away; it could be weeks or months. Windrider is escorting him to the edge of the Yankton territory, and he should return in about two or three weeks. I’m not sure how far away it is or how fast they’ll travel.”
“If he’s not returning to his people, where is he going, and why?”
“On a mission revealed in a vision quest, a mission that he hopes will sway his people’s vote in my favor,” she answered cryptically. Seeing how much wood had been gathered, Rebecca chuckled, then suggested they start hauling it to camp, as it would require many trips. When Bonnie asked about the mission and vision quest, Rebecca explained the ceremony and its meaning to her, but withheld the vision’s message.
“What did this vision tell Bright Arrow to do?” she pressed.
“Until his quest is fulfilled, a warrior can’t relate his vision to anyone but the council. Once it’s carried out, the village is told and there’s a celebration and feast. When Bright Arrow returns, he’ll relate his message and adventures to everyone,” she replied without lying.
“It must be hard to sit around and wait for some vision or another person to decide your fate,” Bonnie remarked absently.
“Truer words were never spoken, Bonnie,” she concurred. Then she looked at Bonnie and asked, “Do you know what day it is? I lost track of time out here. It feels like fall is just about here.”
“September third,” Bonnie informed her, confirming her thought that it was time for the winter buffalo hunt. They made another trip to the river for water, then built their morning fire as other faces appeared from many tepees to begin the new day.
The children awoke and came outside to see their mother. Rebecca knelt and hugged each one tightly, then told Bonnie it was time to prepare their meal, feed the children, and begin their other chores for the day. Both women took small hands and ducked to enter the large tepee decorated with colorful, artistic scenes of Windrider’s coups.
Miles from the Cheyenne camp, Bright Arrow and Windrider rode swiftly in pensive silence. They covered a great distance before the sun vanished from sight behind them. When they halted to camp for the night, Windrider glanced over at his friend to check his stamina after the long, hard ride. From Bright Arrow’s nimble movements, his even respiration, and his glittering eyes, Windrider could see that the exertion had not adversely affected him. The Sioux warrior didn’t appear in the least fatigued or stiff. Windrider was glad, for his renewed condition would protect his friend’s life during this perilous quest.
‘The moon will pass over us ten and three times before we reach the camp of our Yankton brothers. I will count many coups when I defeat the white enemies of all our brothers,” Bright Arrow declared confidently. He wondered if he should discuss Rebecca and Bonnie with his friend, but he decided it was best to allow the Great Spirit to reveal Windrider’s vision. He didn’t want the Cheyenne warrior to resist the message or the truth of his words by thinking it was only a jealous game.
‘The Yankton camp lies ten and one moon passes from my camp,” Windrider corrected him genially. “Do you wish to ride as a woman?” he teased. “You are strong once more; we can ride swiftly.”
“Three camps of my Lakota Teton brothers stand between the Yankton camp and Cheyenne camp. We must visit. We must learn all news of these strange white-eyes. A man must gather all clues and signs before he rides into a dangerous battle. Defeat and death easily strike down a warrior with an empty head. I must speak with my brothers, the Itazipo, the Hunkpapa, and Minneconjou. I must learn of the whites’ plans and travels. And I must be careful, for I am to pass as white when I reach the Yankton camp of our Nakota brothers. I must know all facts before I join the white band,” he explained.
Windrider did not expose his inner anxiety as he reasoned, “It is the buffalo season on the Plains. Your Hunkpapa brothers will be hunting. The Minneconjou did not return to camp near the river with two tongues. They made camp many days up the big river, near the place where your father burned the bluecoats’ fort many winters past. Winter comes, and we must hurry. I must return and hunt game for my family; you must seek the whites before they travel fast and far.” Windrider did not tell Bright Arrow that the true reason he did not want his friend to enter the Sans Arc Itazipo camp was because he feared he would meet a brave called Weasel Tail there…
There was a great deal of excitement in the Cheyenne camp the next day. During the rest period, an exhausted horse walked to the edge of camp and halted. A white trader was lying semi-conscious across his back. The limp man slid to the ground, landing roughly and painfully. He begged for assistance and mercy from those who gathered around the strange sight. The reins of a pack-mule were tied around his left hand and, as the man fell, the horse’s head was jerked downward. The frightened animal reared and neighed. If a brave had not grabbed the bridle, he would have bolted and dragged the sick trader. The brave untied the reins, then claimed the mule and horse as his. Clearly the trader was dying; his belongings would go to those who could seize them the quickest. The brave scowled and wiped the sticky fluid from the trader’s injured hands on his leggings.
Rebecca had been leaving the forest after a refreshing swim in the river. She observed the curious scene as a crowd gathered around the fallen man. A chill of fear and danger tingled over her body, and she shuddered at the eerie sensation. Rushing to Windrider’s tepee, she entreated Sucoora to remain inside with the children while she examined the situation that had shot warnings through her. So intent was she that she didn’t notice Bonnie racing after her.
She approached the group and moved close enough to witness the action. Many Cheyenne were stripping the pack-mule of possessions. Others were actually taking items from the man’s horse and his aching body! The man was too ill and weak to stop them, and he continued to plead for water and help. Rebecca stared at the numerous blisters on the man’s face, palms, arms, legs, and the soles of his feet. She could understand why he wasn’t wearing his boots and why he couldn’t place those tortured feet in his stirrups or grip the reins with his raw and blistered hands. There was a variety of sores on his body. Some were like tiny pimples; others were small blisters; and still others were raised sores with fiery heat and pus sacs. He was covered with them. From his exertions and contacts, some had burst; they oozed a sickly liquid.
The petite Bonnie wiggled close to sneak a look around Rebecca’s arm. Her blue eyes widened in shock and fear. Seizing Rebecca’s arm, she shook her violently. “Get them away from him, Rebecca! It’s smallpox! It’s very contagious, and it kills! They have to burn everything, including him when he dies,” she nervously blurted, her conclusions and advice startling Rebecca.
“Are you certain?” Rebecca murmured in rising panic, glancing down into Bonnie’s ashen face and frantic eyes.
“Yes. Don’t touch anything he’s touched! Don’t let anyone who’s touched him touch you. We must get the children away from camp. It’s too late for them,” she remarked sadly, pointing to the ones tightly gripping the man’s possessions. “You must convince them to burn everything, including their clothes. Everyone who’s touched him or his belongings should leave camp before infecting others.”
“If they get sick like this, who’s going to take care of them?”
Bonnie replied in a rush, “They should make camp away from here. They’ll have to take care of each other. The ones who die should be burned, and all possessions touched must be burned. It’s the only way to prevent the spread of this horrible disease. No one should enter or leave camp; the illness must be contained here until it’s run its course. Listen to me, Rebecca; unless this disease is handled carefully and sternly, everyone in this camp could die.” Bonnie tugged on Rebecca’s arms in her urgency, trying to convince her of the disease’s danger.
“My God, you’re serious,” Rebecca mumbled faintly. “Are you sure it isn’t chicken pox? Or some other illness?”
“I told you; I’m a better doctor than my father was. There’s no medicine for this illness. Once they get it from him, there’s nothing to do but make them comfortable, force them to eat and drink, and pray. The disease’s evil is on anything he’s touched. Until every dead body and infected item is burned, the disease will run rampant.”
“Let’s go; we must hurry,” Rebecca stated apprehensively. They rushed to the tepee and warned Sucoora of the lethal evil that had invaded their camp. They told her not to allow anyone to enter or to give her anything. Rebecca ordered Bonnie to remain there and to keep the children inside while she and Sucoora went to speak with the chief, as she needed the Cheyenne woman to interpret for her. Then they rushed to Chief Yellow Robe’s tepee with the dire news.
The man listened to Sucoora’s words as she translated Rebecca’s warnings and advice. He asked skeptically, “You say we must send those who touched the white man away for twelve moons? We must not leave our camp or allow our brothers to enter? You say we must burn bodies and possessions for an evil we cannot see?”
Rebecca grimaced. She tried over and over to persuade the chief of the danger they were facing. He shook his head and refused to believe her, or to believe the situation was so serious. “It is time for the buffalo hunt. You wish us to look like fools who follow the crazy words of two white women?” he scoffed sarcastically. “We do not make war with your kind. We have been your friends. Why do you wish to trick the Cheyenne?” he demanded.
When Sucoora interpreted those insulting words, Rebecca winced in emotional pain, then flushed red with anger. “Tell the old man to choke on his stubbornness and hostility! I’ve warned him. If he refuses to do anything to protect his people, then he must explain their deaths to the Great Spirit when he joins Him soon. Tell him Bonnie is a white medicine chief, and she knows of this evil. In twelve passes of the moon, those who touched the white man or touched his possessions will become ill; Death will battle fiercely for their lives. We wished to save the lives of our Cheyenne friends, but he sees us as sly enemies and foolish women. Tell him he cannot stop this evil; his medicine chief will be helpless to fight its power. Tell him not to ask for the help of two lowly white women when he and his people are suffering and dying. Once he has allowed the powerful illness to overrun his camp, we can do nothing to concpier it. We must fight it now while it is weak, or face bitter defeat later. Ask if it is not better to appear the fool for a few moons in order to save lives? Tell him I take my family and leave to prevent the evil from attacking us.” With that, she haughtily turned and left before Sucoora could repeat her stunning words.
Sucoora boldly and bravely suggested that the chief should discuss this matter with the full council. If the white women’s warnings proved true, Chief Yellow Robe would stand alone with the blame for an awful defeat on his shoulders. He nodded agreement, knowing the council would not heed such ridiculous claims. He left to view this dying white trader and the so-called enemy that lived on his body. Sucoora returned to her tepee to find Rebecca and Bonnie packing their belongings.
“Hurry, Sucoora,” she instructed. “We must dismantle the tepee and move away from the camp. We must protect ourselves and the children. That foolish man will regret his decision. When Windrider returns, he’ll agree with our action. Make sure you take only the things inside the tepee,” she cautioned, then returned to her task.
Sucoora remained rigid and watchful. “We are women and children. Who will protect us? Who will provide our game? We will be scorned and mocked. Our chief has spoken; we must obey. We must not leave camp and safety,” the woman argued.
“What is a little laughter and a few insults in the face of such a deadly alternative? We’ll defend ourselves; we have weapons. Besides, what enemy is going to come around to raid during the hunting season? I’m good with a gun and knife; I can even shoot an arrow and make traps. I will hunt and fish for us. We must no
t touch food they’ve touched, Sucoora. We must not let them come near us. We won’t go far, just up the river a piece. We’ll camp and wait for Windrider to return. We must stop him from entering the camp. He could take ill and die.” When the woman remained unmoved, Rebecca snapped, “If we obey the chief, we won’t live to see the winter! It is safer out there than here. Please help us; please come with us,” she earnestly beseeched.
“We will not go far?” she pressed fearfully.
Rebecca smiled and replied, “We will put up the tepee within sight of camp. We need an empty distance across which the illness cannot travel. We cannot accept any food or contact with others for twelve moons. Then, we must not allow anyone ill to visit us. I promise everything will be fine if we do as Bonnie says.”
Sucoora shifted her probing gaze from one woman to the other, then nodded agreement. “First, we must take the children to the safe place,” Rebecca continued. “Bonnie can watch them while we take down the tepee. It’s been a long time since I’ve helped do that chore, but I’m sure you can teach me again.” They both laughed.
Fortunately most Cheyenne were in their tepees or still grouped around the dying trader and didn’t notice the curious action taking place at Windrider’s tepee. Sucoora placed their belongings on the backs of two horses, then led the animals out of camp and headed along the riverbank. Rebecca carried Tashina in the cradleboard and held Little Feet’s and Moon Eye’s hands. She wanted them close enough to protect them from being approached by others. Bonnie carried Windrider’s small son and held Pretty Rabbit’s hand. Tansia was told to stay close to Bonnie. When the seven-year-old girl halted for a moment, Bonnie turned and called for her to hurry. They walked until they found a flat area without grass. Sucoora nervously glanced back at the camp, which was now a mile away and unobscured by trees. She sighed heavily; they were near, but a safe distance away.