Chapter 6 #2
“Hau, hau. I could do this.” Looking askance at her, he gave her a wink.
Marietta stared at him. Had he meant to wink at her? Was he flirting with her?
“What we will need,” he began, “is something dry and small—”
“But these branches I gathered are small.”
“Scrawnier yet,” he said. “What is required is something like dried grass or moss, which we have here in plenty. Watch.” Pushing aside the buffalo robe, he pulled up some brown grass, taking it in his hand and pinching it until it resembled dried flakes.
These he placed on top of a small, flat stone.
She watched his hands yet again at work, and swallowing hard, she recalled their feel on her skin when he had helped to button her dress.
But he was continuing to speak, and she gave him her attention easily enough. “Now rub the stones together, over this grass.”
She took up the flintstone and pyrite to do as he said, rubbing the two together.
Several tiny sparks fell down to the flakes. At the same time, Grey Coyote bent low and blew on those hot specks, adding more grass, until the whole mixture of grass and moss began to flame. To this he assembled tiny bits of dry wood.
“Do you see how it is done?” He gestured toward the fire and looked up at Marietta. “First one must feed the fire with dry grass, then blow on the sparks until they ignite, then add chips of wood. It does require some patience, but not much.”
A tiny flare shot up from the mixture.
“Now we need a place for our fire, for we will require it to be somewhat bigger than this small stone. Perhaps we can pull back the buffalo robe and make a bigger fire here at the entrance, since there is a smoke hole here.”
She nodded.
“Watch.” He sat up, pushed away the buffalo robe and set the stone and the gentle blaze on the ground. “Now we gradually add more wood. It must be dry wood, for if it is green, it will send up smoke and alert our enemies that we are here.”
Again, she nodded.
He glanced up at her, his gaze soft. “Do you think you could keep the fire alive while I find more wood which is dry?”
“I think so.”
“Hau, hau.” After crawling out of their refuge, he was gone but a few moments. When he returned, he carried boughs and offshoots, and only two or three larger pieces of wood.
“But the wood you’ve brought will burn through quickly.”
“Then we will keep feeding it. What we need is a small fire, nothing large. A fire can be seen at great distances on the prairie. The trick is to make the blaze small, and one that is smokeless, almost impossible to detect.”
“I see,” she said, and they both fell silent, watching the fire. Occasionally one or the other of them would feed pieces of wood to burn.
After a short time he asked, “Are you hungry?”
“I am.”
“Then come, the fire is good. It will keep. I have brought us fresh meat.”
“Fresh meat?”
“Two rabbits. Follow me, for I left their carcasses outside our shelter. You can help me skin and clean them, and we will have a good meal.”
Marietta noisily sucked in her breath, causing Grey Coyote to arch a brow. “Did I speak in a wrong way? Is something wrong?”
“No, no. It’s only that I have never skinned and cleaned a rabbit before.”
He nodded. “Do not worry. They are gutted much like a deer or a buffalo.”
“No, you do not understand. I have never skinned or gutted anything in my life. I was a lady’s maid, and this...this kind of duty was never required of me.”
This seemed to surprise him, and he frowned at her. But he said not a word of censure. Instead, he crawled out of their sanctum, and without standing up, held out a hand to her and motioned her to come after.
Leaving their tiny lodge, she came down on her hands and knees beside him, where he knelt next to the rabbits.
Grey Coyote didn’t immediately set to skinning the game. Rather, he placed his hand on the still bodies of the rabbits. Then with head bent, he said, “Thank you for giving your life to us, my brothers. Your sacrifice will mean our survival. Thank you, Creator, for this food.”
It was a simple prayer, but only when it was uttered did Grey Coyote pick up the game, and coming up onto his feet, he set off toward the stream.
Marietta followed, uncertain she was ready to see a rabbit gutted. It was one requirement to eat meat; it was another to behold the animal from which the meat came.
Once at the rivulet, Grey Coyote squatted beside the flowing water, and gesturing toward her, urged her to come closer. Again, she did as asked.
“I did not realize how new this is for you.” He unsheathed his knife. Marietta drew back from the weapon, but all he said was, “A good tool is necessary if one is to skin the game well.”
Turning the handle of the dagger, he offered its hilt to her. When she hesitated, he encouraged her with a few simple hand motions to take it.
Gingerly she grabbed hold of the object, but her fingers came into contact with his. At once, a charge like lightning raced over her spine, and without hesitation, her eyes sought his.
Had he felt it, too?
He was, indeed, staring back at her, and his gaze was intense. But again, he said not a word to her about it, and Marietta slowly let out her breath.
At last, when he chose to speak, his words were soft.
“The first requirement to know about hunting and cleaning game is to realize that all life must eat in order to live. To survive, one must take from nature. But it does not also follow that life must be taken without thought. Life is precious to all. All life has a spirit, otherwise it would not be alive. And all life has a right to live.”
She nodded.
He continued, “And so if one is to take a life, no matter if it be plant or animal, the need must be great. Once the deed has been done, one must always thank the animal or plant which was killed, for the creature has given of himself so another might survive. This is why prayer is necessary. Do you understand?”
“I do,” she said gently, “although I have never heard of doing this before now.”
He lifted his shoulders. “I know. My Assiniboine sister is married to a white man.” Then, turning his attention again to the game, he handed one of the rabbits to her.
“We begin here.” From his belt, he grabbed hold of yet another blade.
With this, he ran its sharp edge from the anus of the animal up toward the head, cutting along its belly.
While she watched, Grey Coyote gutted the animal, pulling the skin from the body and washing the meat off in the creek. He even tore off any remaining fur. Then, without a word to her, he reached for the rabbit she was supposed to be skinning, and he did the same to it.
“Now,” he said, when it was done at last. “We shall find two long sticks and put the meat on those, place them in the fire, and we shall have a good meal.”
Marietta nodded. She offered him back his knife.
He shook his head. “Do you have a good blade?”
“Ah, no, I don’t.”
“Then you should keep this one. Here.” From the cord around his waist, he untied one of the buckskin sheaths, handing her its casing. “Keep the dagger in there. It will help to ensure it is kept sharp.”
“Yes.” She glanced down at the sheath. It was a beautiful piece of work that he loaned her, soft to the touch and decorated all over with red, green and yellow beads. She ran her fingers over those beads.
“Come,” he said after a while, getting to his feet. Once standing, he reached out toward her.
With some anxiety, Marietta stared at his proffered hand. She knew what would happen if she touched it. Awareness of him would swamp her. Sensation would engulf her. After all, it took little to recall what had happened to her with the merest of his touches only moments ago.
Her gaze caught on to his. Good heavens, he appeared as apprehensive as she felt.
Perhaps it was this that decided her. At last, placing her hand in his, she allowed him to help her to her feet.
If her breasts tingled because of it, and if a most private place between her legs ached for a moment, she decided to do as she believed he had done earlier—she would ignore his effect on her.