Chapter 17
Chapter
Seventeen
Frightening thunderstorms came up suddenly. They would sweep over us, and away they would go as suddenly as they had come… Looking back now it seems to me that we had a thunderstorm almost every day.
— MARIAN RUSSELL, LAND OF ENCHANTMENT: MEMOIRS OF MARIAN RUSSELL ALONG THE SANTA FE TRAIL
Swift Hawk summoned Julian to him. “Leave the buffalo to Red Fox and myself. We will finish skinning them and bring them to camp. But you must ride to the wagon train and warn the people there of the unusual storm that is coming.”
Julian nodded.
“Be quick and tell them that this is not the same sort of thunderstorm they are accustomed to.”
Again Julian nodded.
Swift Hawk stared hard at the young man. “Have you ever experienced the whirling winds? The Wind Spirit of the prairie?”
“Wind Spirit? No,” said Julian. “Do you mean a twister?”
“Perhaps. I do not know what the white man calls these things.”
“If you are talking about what I think you are, they are called twisters. And, yes, I have read of these prairie winds.”
“Good, then you have knowledge of the damage that they can do?”
“I do.”
With his right hand, Swift Hawk made a quick motion outward, saying, “E-peva’e, good. Tell those in the caravan that they are to search quickly for low ground, and they are to go there and stay there until the storm has blown itself out.”
“Yes.”
“A coulee or deep valley will do as a shelter. The mules, oxen, the wagons—everyone and everything must go into that shelter. The winds and debris will likely blow over a coulee without causing it damage. Tell them this. Do you understand?”
“Yes. I will tell them.”
Again, Swift Hawk made a motion outward. “E-peva’e. Go now.”
As Julian pulled away, Swift Hawk patted the horse’s rump. For a moment, looking up at the young man, Swift Hawk experienced a sense of loss, but it was not because he feared for Julian. No, if only it were that easy.
Rather his response was due to her. Julian reminded him too greatly of Angelia, his Little Sunshine.
Seven suns it had been. For the cycle of seven suns, he had stayed away from her.
Presently Red Fox joined him, his gaze, too, following Julian. “My friend, you would send the boy on such an errand?”
“He is a man, let us not forget that.” Swift Hawk spoke without turning around. “And in truth, I think the white men will be more inclined to believe him than either you or me.”
“Perhaps.” Red Fox chuckled. “But that is not the reason that you have sent him, when you could have gone to the wagon train yourself.”
Swift Hawk raised an eyebrow.
“For many days now you have not sought out the fair-haired woman.” Red Fox grinned. “And this from a man who in the past has braved many a dark night in order to return to her side.”
Though he knew his friend teased, Swift Hawk didn’t reply, and he began to pace toward one of the fallen buffalo.
With a few long strides, Red Fox caught up with him and kept to a similarly paced gait.
“As you might remember, my purpose here is to help you attain what you must, and though I am young, to give you counsel. For many moons we have been friends. So I would ask you, my friend, have you had a change of heart? Or perhaps had another vision?”
“Hova’ahane,” Swift Hawk admitted. “I have not.”
“Saaaa.” Red Fox chuckled once more.
Swift Hawk blew out his breath, and stopping, he turned to his friend. “You are my friend, in truth, and your counsel is wise. But tell me, why do you tease?”
Staring off to the side, out toward the prairie, it took Red Fox more than a few moments before he spoke. “Our people have long observed that the wolf takes but one female for his mate. We have seen, also, that if tragedy should befall his mate, he will mourn her loss for the rest of his life.”
Swift Hawk stared hard at his friend.
“I think that in regard to this woman, you share many traits with the wolf.”
“Perhaps,” said Swift Hawk. “But there is a difference. She is not my wife.” Pivoting, Swift Hawk resumed his pace toward the buffalo.
But Red Fox was there beside him. “Is she not?”
Swift Hawk didn’t answer.
“My friend,” offered Red Fox, “I mean no dishonor. But I remember your telling me that she is your wife, that the spirits showed this to you, and that you are only awaiting her announcement to her people.”
Swift Hawk knelt at the side of the buffalo, and taking his knife in hand, began to skin the beast. Over his shoulder, he responded, “I spoke when I should not have. For I have since learned that the white man has many different views on marriage. In truth, I was wrong to claim her as my own.”
“Were you?”
“Haa’he.”
“And yet, you were following your vision. That is never wrong.”
Swift Hawk cut away at the hide of the buffalo, and without looking up replied, “Perhaps my vision was given to me by evil spirits.”
“No. If that were true, there would be other signs.”
Swift Hawk sat away from the buffalo and put down his knife. Looking up at his friend, he retorted, “Haa’he, you are right, there would be other signs. And yet I know that something is wrong. I feel it. In truth, I am beginning to believe that I may be on the wrong path. Again.”
“I can understand your frustration,” stated Red Fox. “Many are the times you have tried to end this curse, and still it remains a force that enslaves your people.”
“Yes. What else must I do? Twice I have battled with the Crow. In each fight, though I won, I showed them mercy. I helped the enemy by healing their wounds. Three times I have done battle with the Cree. Each time, though I could have counted coup, I did not. I helped them, instead. Twice I have met the Pawnee in battle. And three times I have stood against the Shoshone. Again, I have shown mercy. Tell me, I have always done as I have been instructed to do. Why does the curse remain?”
“I do not know. I can only say that you must continue to follow your vision. You know that the elders would tell you this, were they here. Therefore, I, in their place, must say it in their absence. We all are aware that a man who is not following his vision is only half alive. But with you, because of the task that you carry, it is even more imperative that you remain true to that which you have been shown in your vision quest.”
Swift Hawk nodded. His friend was right. Did he not know it in his heart? Was this not the same wisdom he had been taught all his life? He was thankful that the Creator had given him a vision, a path to travel to enlightenment. He must remain loyal to it.
Still, a man was allowed time to come to terms with the world around him. Swift Hawk had given himself seven days to stew over his loss. Perhaps that was enough.
Pride was an interesting thing, he thought. For seven days, it had kept him from following his vision; kept him here, out on the prairie, when he really wanted to be with her.
It was an odd thing, this sense of denigrated dignity. Especially since he had come to realize days ago why the angel had done as she had. He had even come to see her actions as noble, for she had considered the good of all in her plan—himself, her brother, herself.
Though seven days ago he had accused her of flirtation, upon reflection, he knew this could not be true. It was not so because he had touched, had been touched by her spirit. And when this has happened to a man, there are no barriers.
He understood her.
Alas, he understood why she had given herself to him physically. She had said she had done it as a gift, a return favor. Though he suspected there was more to it than that, this action demonstrated that hers was an unselfish heart.
But her gift had not been a gift alone. For him to believe that, he would have to forget that she had melted in his arms, that she had wanted his embrace, that she had begged him for it.
These were things no man could forget.
No, he was fairly convinced her problem was something else, that she was withholding something from him, something important—and worse, it was almost without doubt he knew what it was.
She loved him. He would be a fool not to recognize it.
It was there in her gaze, in her gentle touch, in the way she rejoiced in his embrace. Indeed, it was there in the way she returned his advances.
Yet what did he have to offer her in return? The hallowed place of being second, third or fourth in his thoughts?
What she didn’t understand, and what he could not tell her, was that he was a haunted man—haunted by a duty to his people, haunted by a curse that would mark him for the rest of his days if he failed in his quest. Moreover, he could not confide his problems to her so that he could bring her to understanding.
“My friend,” Red Fox interrupted Swift Hawk’s thoughts, “you know the truth of what I say. You must continue following the path that has been shown you by the Creator.”
“Haa’he,” said Swift Hawk, “you are right, and I am glad that you have spoken to me about this.”
Red Fox nodded. “It is to be regretted that you are not free, like other men. That you cannot bestow your favor upon whomever you love. But know this. You are entrusted with a grand purpose, you were selected. I, for one, envy you that.”
Swift Hawk came up onto his feet and placed his hands on Red Hawk’s shoulders. “You are a good friend. Your counsel is always wise, and I am lucky that you have chosen to help me. With you here, I am not alone.”
Red Fox nodded, he too taking Swift Hawk by the shoulders.
At that moment, the wind rushed into Swift Hawk’s face, reminding him that a storm, one that looked to be deadly, was headed this way. “Perhaps we have lingered here too long. The storm is coming quickly, and you can see the signs as well as I. It is a bad one.”
“Haa’he.” Red Fox whistled for his pony and stuck out his hand to receive it. “Let us separate that we might finish our work as fast as the winds that chase us. I will ride to the north and finish cutting the meat there. If we work swiftly enough, it will be done.”