Chapter 17 #2
“Look there.” Red Hawk had reined in his pony and had dropped back to her, since she accompanied the last wagon.
She was on foot and was holding on to their horse, as though to guide it.
Carl Bell, with reins in hand, was driving the wagon, while John Owens sat next to him.
They were awaiting their turn at crossing the river.
Pointing to a particular beaver, Red Hawk said, “Watch ksis-atukki closely.”
“Ksis-atukki?”
“It means Cuts Trees with His Teeth, or, as you call it, beaver. But notice this one. He is unusual.”
She looked where he indicated. The beaver in question was industriously attempting to fell a tree. But the tree wasn’t going anywhere.
After quite a bit of work, the animal moved to another side of the tree and began chipping away. All to no result.
In a moment, the creature stepped back away from the tree and scratched his head, just like a person might do. Once again, he tried to gnash away at the tree from another position. Still the tree stood, firmly planted. Again, the beaver backed up and repeated the entire process.
“Oh, my dear Lord,” said Effie. “He acts like a human being.”
“He does. It is one of the reasons we Blackfeet consider the beaver to be a sacred being.”
“Do you?”
“Aa, ohkiimaan.”
Gazing up at him, she asked, “What does that word mean?”
“Ohkiimaan?”
“Yes.”
Leaning down, he whispered to her, “It means my wife.” Without awaiting her reaction, he winked at her, set his pony away from her and trotted to the lead wagon and horse, where he took hold of the animal and began leading it toward the other shoreline.
Effie watched Red Hawk for quite some time. His was a proud figure as he disappeared out in front of her. She feared she was growing more and more attached to him.
How could she not? The man was gentle and kind in word and deed, but he was also rough when he had to be, wise when others were demonstrating their stupidity and never did a word of complaint cross his lips.
She shook her head. Was she out of her mind, not accepting his proposal?
Red Hawk signaled it was their turn to cross the river, and while he turned around, reining his horse back across the water toward them, Effie guided their horse out into the deep stream.
Crash!
A tree fell behind her, and she wondered if the beaver had at last won his prize.
But then, crash! Down came another tree. A shot blasted through the air, sounding much like a lightning strike. At that same moment, something whizzed past her. Had it been a bullet?
Meanwhile Red Hawk was whipping his pony across the water toward them, his arms waving in the air. He was yelling at her, and she could barely hear him, but she thought he was saying, “Hold on to the horse, Effie, and get across this river now.”
“Yah! Yah!” He fought with his pony to increase her speed, even though the animal was bounding through the creek’s current as quickly as she could.
But Red Hawk was still too far away from her. The horse she was leading was frightened, and in reaction it reared. Though the water cushioned the animal’s strength, Effie had no choice but to lunge away from it.
Carl tried to rein in the horse. He was on his feet, and Effie could see that every muscle in his body was strained. Owens sat helplessly, his hands white from clutching his seat.
Another blast sounded behind her, causing the horse to panic more and Effie to dive even farther away from it. Another something flew past her, but this time, Effie wasn’t certain it had been a bullet. It seemed bigger.
Luckily she was unharmed by both the horse and the shot. But then, perhaps she had thought too soon.
Screams from the other women told her that something terrible had happened. Looking forward, she was in time to watch Red Hawk’s pony go down. With horror, she saw him sink along with it.
“Red Hawk!” she added her screams to the others’. She tried to run, but only managed to push uselessly through the rushing stream. “Red Hawk!” she shrieked again.
Flailing her arms, she fought through the water until she reached his side. Luckily, Henry Smith had braved the stream from the other side and helped drag Red Hawk toward the shore.
Struggling with him through the river, panic turned to terror, and some barrier broke free within her.
As one thought after another rushed through her mind, she knew she had been foolish.
She loved this man. Certainly, she had always been enchanted by him.
No doubt she had loved him when she had given herself to him so freely.
But adoration seemed to come wrapped in many different layers. What had once appeared as a mild infatuation was in reality as hot and wild as an exploding volcano. She loved him. Nothing, not even this all-consuming dig, was more important than he was.
Meanwhile, Red Hawk’s pony had come to her feet and had drifted back to the shore. Red Hawk, however, appeared to be unconscious.
“Red Hawk!” she cried out his name, then in a little softer voice, “Red Hawk.”
No answer.
“Henry,” she said, “in your wagon is a medicine kit. Go fetch it for me, please.”
Immediately, he did as bid. Meanwhile, Effie smoothed her hands over every part of Red Hawk’s body, seeking evidence of an injury. She found none.
But his eyes were closed, and he wasn’t uttering a word. Was he merely unconscious?
Or was it worse?