Apache Protectors: Running Wolf Part 16

His brow knit as unease trickled through him. Had her words of last night, her reluctance, her proclamation that she could not be his woman because she was Crow and the daughter of a chief, had all that just been some trick, some bait?

Big Thunder's words came to him. His friend had mentioned their bear hunt and reminded him that there was more than one kind of trap.

Running Wolf rolled away. Was she so calculating? It was hard to think so when she had been panting and purring beneath him. But she was a woman.

"What did you think? That I would bring you home to your father?"

Her silence was answer enough. When he turned to her it was to see her forearm thrown over her eyes as if she could not even bear to look at him.

"Big Thunder was right. But you will not trap this bear."

"I do not understand you," she said, and then lowered her arm so she could look at him. Her features were shadowed like the dark side of the moon.

"If I marry her, I can be with you."

"And what of me?"

"You will be safe in our household."

Snow Raven struggled to breathe past the shame and sorrow that rose up like floodwater. This was his solution. He would keep her safe by keeping her captive. This was not love, but just another kind of possession.

She would not live under the rule of the Sioux, even the Sioux who had stolen her heart. He would not bring her home. She must do it alone.

As her breathing slowed and she again became aware of the world beyond him, Raven glanced to the sky. The wind blew a sudden gust of cold air. They both stared at the clouds sweeping across the skies, blocking out the stars.

Running Wolf spoke. "A storm is coming."

"Yes." There was. And she did not know if she would survive it.

Chapter Fourteen.

The tribe departed the next day in a cold rain, following the wide trail of the buffalo. By midday the scouts returned with news; the herd was just ahead and they would make camp here.

Raven helped set up the chief's lodge, and when it was up Spotted Fawn sent her to the stream for water. The rain clouds that had followed them all day now swept on without them. In their wake came wisps of steam rising from the warm, wet earth.

The mud tugged at Raven's moccasins, making her footsteps heavy. She glanced to the sky, following the flight of a hawk as it soared on the wind. Soon she must also take wing and be away. For the longer she stayed, the harder it would be to leave Running Wolf behind.

Raven found Snake first, trying to help Wren raise the lodge of the old widow. Raven lent a hand and soon the poles were up and the skin stretched tight. Snake set the last spike through the hide, holding it tight over the lodge poles, and Raven released her grip on the tanned buffalo hide.

"Thank you, sister," said Snake, wiping the sweat from her face.

Raven waved off the thanks. Little Deer arrived carrying a cradle board. Raven stared in astonishment and Little Deer laughed.

"He is not mine, sister. This one belongs to Snake."

Raven glanced at the infant. She felt slightly ill as the reality of the task ahead of her landed cold and hard in her belly.

The old widow, Pretty Cloud, carried a bundle of goods past them.

Wren waved a hand. "You can say what you like before her. She is deaf as a chunk of wood. They ought to call her Stooped Woman or No Teeth Woman. I have to pound her food before she can eat it."

Raven turned back to the problem at hand-Snake's child.

But Snake beat her to the question. "Should I leave him behind?"

"If you bring him, he will be the boy born of the Sioux," said Wren.

Snake rounded on her. "Do you not think I know this? Our people will hate him, these people will hate him. But at least there he will not be a captive."

"He will never be accepted," said Wren.

"What would you have me do, drown him in the river?"

Wren did not reply, but her lips pressed tight. Was Wren's sour face because she thought that this infant would slow them or because she so hated the Sioux?

Raven stepped between them. "What is the child's name?"

"I call him Stork."

She looked down at the small, round face of the sleeping boy. He was innocent in all this.

"A baby is born of his mother's tribe. That means that he is Crow and one of us. He will be no more to carry than a blanket or a buffalo robe."

Snake's strained face flushed red and tears welled as she stroked the face of her child. "Yes. He is Crow."

Wren lifted her hands in defeat. "Fine. But what of Mouse?"

Raven frowned in confusion. "What about her?"

"She is ill with her break with the moon." Snake motioned to the small lodge set some thirty paces away.

That was not too serious, thought Raven. The once-a-moon cycle of bleeding was natural, and required Mouse to remain in a separate lodge until her time ended. This was to protect the men and keep a woman from draining the power of his medicine from his person and weapons, while she drained of blood. But women had nothing to fear from a woman at this time.

"We can go to her," suggested Raven.

"Let her rest," said Snake.

"But..."

Frog stopped her words. "It is more than a break with the moon. I asked Turtle Rattler to see her."

Raven could not stop her jaw from dropping at this news. A medicine man did not treat one such as Mouse.

Frog nodded. "Yes, he saw her, because I asked it. He says her insides are bad and she cannot have children. He thinks she takes something to keep from getting with child. Perhaps that is what makes her sick. Mouse told him that she would rather die than have a Sioux baby."

Little Deer's eyes bulged. "Can a woman do such a thing?"

"Prevent a birth? Yes," said Wren, and then glanced to Snake's infant. "It doesn't always work."

Raven returned to the subject of Mouse. "Is it so bad?" asked Raven. It was rude to interrupt this way but she had to know.

"No one can bleed like that for long," said Wren.

Snake nodded. "It is very heavy and it stops for only a few days each moon now. The men will not take her, which suits her fine." Snake scowled and Raven recognized that with Mouse unavailable, Snake must be very busy indeed.

"You are lucky, Raven," said Wren. "If not for Running Wolf, you would be a common woman already." Wren looked to Little Deer and wrinkles etched her brow. "They'll wait for Little Deer to break her link with the moon so she can take Mouse's place."

Little Deer was only fourteen winters, according to Mouse, but would take her place with the common women. Raven needed to get them out of this camp before Mouse grew any sicker, before the baby got any older, before Little Deer was taken to the lodge of common women.

"No," said Raven. "We are all going. The scouts have found the herd. There will be a hunt and then a feast. We go on the night of the feast."

"Mouse is very weak. Maybe too weak to travel," said Frog. "Perhaps I should stay with her. I could take Stork, as well."

Snake looked at the older woman as if she had suddenly lost her reason. Her grip on the cradle board tightened.

"Should we leave Mouse behind?" asked Wren.

"No one is leaving me behind."

They turned to see Mouse step clear of the newly set lodge of Pretty Cloud.

"I will go when you go, and I will make it home or die." She looked at Snake and then to Snake's swaddled infant.

No one argued with this particular mouse.

Raven looked from one to the next. "We will see our mountains soon and join our tribes for the winter camp." Raven saw Mouse's head bow and she knew she thought of her husband and son. She squeezed Mouse's arm and their gazes met. "You will come to live with me in my grandmother's lodge, in the lodge of the chief of the Low River people."

Mouse cast her a rare smile and took her hand. "I hope I can repay this kindness."

Raven gave her hand a squeeze and released her. "It is no kindness to welcome one so brave to our home." She turned to the group, feeling protective and frightened and hopeful all at once. "The night of the feast. Be ready. Meet at this lodge when the men begin the buffalo-hunting dance."

The morning of the hunt, Running Wolf led the familiar formation. First came the soldiers, riding twenty across. This was his place. He had earned it with many successful battles and hunts. Big Thunder rode to his left and Crazy Rider on his right. Behind them were the hunters six deep riding five abreast. Behind the hunters came the people, ready to strip the carca.s.ses of the fallen buffalo.

Running Wolf rode upon his buffalo horse to the top of the ridge, pausing for a moment to savor the antic.i.p.ation of the hunt. There was nothing so thrilling as to ride at a full gallop into a herd of buffalo.

Unless, he thought, it was sharing a buffalo robe with Snow Raven.

He glanced back to the new camp the women had set. Already they stood behind the last of the hunters, skinning knives ready to harvest what their men could catch. Was she there with them?

Any moment they would sweep down the incline and the herd would run. His blood rushed in antic.i.p.ation, for he loved the challenge and the danger of hunting these most mighty creatures.

He checked the leads that ran from the back of his saddle to trail behind him on the ground. If he lost his seat, he knew that he must catch the safety rope. Just a tug would bring his well-trained buffalo horse to an abrupt halt, even amid stampeding buffalo. Such training had saved his life once when a stumbling horse had sent him from his saddle.

This fall hunt would provide fresh meat for the entire tribe and, if their arrows were sure, enough meat to dry in preparation for the coming cold. He needed enough to provide for his mother and offer some to Spotted Fawn. He did not worry too much over Snow Raven's survival over the winter, for the chief would always be provided for.

Crazy Rider drew him from his musings of Raven. "This is my first hunt without Iron Bear."

Running Wolf nodded. It was a visible reminder that their chief could no longer provide for his own family, no longer ride. But he had two sons and the husband of his oldest daughter to provide meat for his family. Still, it caused more talk of who would take his place and when.

"If Running Wolf keeps collecting coups, he will be an easy choice," said Crazy Rider.

Big Thunder rubbed his nose and looked away.

"Do you not agree?" said Crazy Rider.

"I do agree. But there are those who think our war chief spends too much time in the company of the enemy. Red Hawk now tells all who would listen that you are as crazed as a bull elk and that this woman bewitches you."

"She is not a witch," said Running Wolf.

"But she is Crow. It is enough to ruin your chances."

Running Wolf did not offer a reply.

Big Thunder lowered his voice and leaned toward Running Wolf. "You are a leader, or that is what you told me you wished to be. A true leader leads by example."

Running Wolf glared.

"Are you really going to risk it all for this woman?"

Running Wolf pressed his heels to his horse's sides and rode to the top of the ridge, waiting as the soldiers followed, forming a long line.

The buffalo stretched out before them, covering the hill and valley. He waited for the call to charge and then realized the chief was not here to shout. He glanced about to see who would make the call and found the soldiers all looking to him.

Lead by example, he thought, and lifted his voice.

"Heka hey!" he shouted, and they all cried out in unison as they charged together toward the herd.

The women followed the hunters, using horses to turn the great carca.s.ses from one side to the other. Skinning knives flashed in the sun and hides were gathered with the meat. Women tugged arrows from the bodies, each shaft a.s.signing the prize to the hunter who had made the kill. Skinning the huge beasts was hot, sticky, messy work-women's work.

They labored late into the afternoon. At sunset they carried away what they could and left the rest for the scavengers. By firelight they cut the glistening red muscle into thin strips of meat. The persistent wind and dry air would draw away the moisture and leave the leathery meat that would last all winter as jerky or be pounded into powder for pemmican.

The next morning Raven's muscles were sore and her back ached, but she rose and gathered water before Spotted Fawn and Laughing Moon were even awake.

Tonight the tribe would feast. Tonight the Crow women would flee.

As she crossed the village she found the Sioux women already lighting cooking fires. In the center of the village sat the large open area where a pile of dry cottonwood awaited lighting this evening for the great central fire.

When she returned it was to find Iron Bear coughing so hard he turned purple. Turtle Rattler was summoned and gave their chief a tea to ease his raspy breathing. As always, the oldest captive, Frog, accompanied him. While the men, Spotted Fawn and Laughing Moon were occupied, Frog pulled Raven aside.