Chapter 12 #2
“Wa?té. We will paint our bodies with this clay.” He eyed her with a fair degree of wariness, as though he expected her to suddenly burst into flames.
“I cannot say enough how important it is for a scout to remain as invisible to his environment as possible. Now, in order to paint yourself with mud, you must first strip down to only the barest necessities of clothing.”
At first Marietta laughed, certain he was jesting. But when he remained solemn, she said, “Surely you are making a joke.”
“I am not,” he assured her quietly. “You must strip away most of your clothes. I will do so also, although I do not wear as many as you.”
“But—”
He held up his hand. “Consider this. When scouting, one will be trudging through swamps and valleys, bushes and brambles. Clothing can snag, can tear, and if your clothes are also excessive, they will burden you. If you continue to wear a dress as big as this one”—he touched its cloth—“it will hinder you. It might also catch on branches or pricks, and will leave a trace of you behind for even a neglectful warrior to see, and, because of this, he could follow you.”
“Oh. Of course. I begin to understand.” She looked away from him awkwardly. “But there is one part of this you have failed to consider…”
He raised an eyebrow.
“And this is that every single bit of cloting I am wearing is a necessity.”
His look at her was amused. “Perhaps this is so in the white man’s world, but the kind of clothing you are wearing is not useful here on the prairie, and particularly not if you wish to look as though you are a part of the environment.
Come, it will be a great pleasure for me to help you remove your clothes one by one—and we will discover what your basic necessities are...
unless you wish to go naked.” His grin at her was full of mischief. “I would not object to this.”
She wagged a finger at him, smiling, and she started to respond in kind, but suddenly Grey Coyote froze mid-action, brought up his gaze to scan his environment, and before she could say a word, he placed a finger over her lips.
Motioning her to silence, he came down on all fours, put his ear to the ground and lay there for a good few minutes.
She followed him down, resting on her knees.
Before long he sat up, looked at her, and said under his breath, “A war party approaches.”
Instantly, her eyes went wide and her stomach dropped.
She didn’t doubt him. Why would she? If the man were attempting to teach her how to perceive motion and objects at a distance, it would surely follow that he must, himself, have such an ability.
She asked quietly, “How far away are they?”
He didn’t answer.
Marietta quickly scrutinized the gully, looking for a possible escape. What had once seemed a haven, now appeared a prison. This land was dry, barren. The cliffs were of sandstone, with little to no vegetation. There wasn’t even a good cave in them. Literally, there was nowhere to hide.
True, there were bushes and scrub brush along the stream, but most of these were small, and those that were of a larger variety were full of thorns. Worse, it was the early part of the day. There wasn’t even a shred of darkness to conceal them.
She glanced toward Grey Coyote, but though he seemed alert, he did not appear to be frightened or concerned. On the contrary, he looked vigilant, determined.
Because they were still on their knees, he motioned her to crawl in close to him. In her fright, she plunged forward quickly, but he motioned her to stop, then coaxed her to approach him as slowly as possible.
“Remember, movement can be sensed by an alert scout,” he explained.
She gave him one brief nod then carefully crawled toward him. When she was well within his ability to reach for her, he took her in his arms.
Placing his lips to her ear, he whispered, “No matter what happens, you are not to cry out, do you understand? We must hide. It will not be a comfortable spot I will choose, but it will be a good cover, and it should be effective. Are you ready?”
Too scared to speak, she nodded.
“We will hide in the bushes.” He pointed toward them.
She looked. “Are you crazy?” she whispered, turning her attention back to him. “Those are wild rose bushes. They are full of thorns and stickers.”
“Exactly,” he said. “We will be well hidden.”
“Exactly? But—”
“You must take off your dress now, quickly, for it is too full. I will not be able to prod you into and out of those bushes easily while you are wearing this. Worse, you might get stuck. Hurry.”
“Prod me?”
“You will not be hurt.”
She didn’t think to contradict him. As rapidly as possible, she reached her arms around behind her to undo the buttons, but the clasps were small, material-covered, and difficult even under the best of circumstances.
Her fingers fumbled over the tiny objects, and she was almost crying when she said, “I can’t do it. ”
“Hokahe,” he said. “I remember these well. It would take more time than we have to undo them. Therefore I am going to have to cut the dress off you. Do you understand?”
“Rip it. Just rip the thing off me. I’ll repair it later.”
“Hiya, I cannot. The air around you is much like water—it carries waves. If I rip this dress, it will send out swells, much like the circles you see in the water, but these are in the air, and if this party has a scout within it who is alert, he will sense it. Hold still, it is not a difficult task to cut it.”
She held still, and he cut it away, peeling the garment from her and leaving her standing in only her chemise, corset, drawers, hose and slippers. The chemise came off next, though more easily, and soon it too fell away. Without a word, he wadded up both dress and chemise in his hands.
“Quickly,” he said, “follow me.”
She did so, and they crept toward the bushes as fast as possible, half running in squats, half crawling.
All the way there, Marietta eyed those bushes.
Yes, they were beautiful. True, they smelled sweet…
but she feared them. She wondered which was worse—to die by getting scratched to death by thorns, or to meet the war party?
Clearly, Grey Coyote considered the former the better alternative. But did she?
However, it didn’t appear she had a choice.
Having reached the bushes, Grey Coyote turned to her, and beneath his breath, said, “I chose this particular spot for our training because we can hide in these bushes. They will conceal us.”
Bending down, he pulled up the branches of the rose bushes: Good Lord, there was room beneath those branches, enough to hide. Odd that she had never realized this about the rose bush. It would be a tight squeeze, true, but both she and Grey Coyote would fit.
Grey Coyote had shoved his robe up under those bushes, and pulling it out now, he opened it. For a moment, she stared at him aghast.
In anticipation of such an event, he had planned an escape route ahead of time. Her fear of these bushes had been groundless.
However, Grey Coyote was in motion, and pushing her cut-up dress and chemise into the top of the robe first, he turned to her. “You must crawl within the buffalo robe and pull it around you like a cocoon. Come, lie down on it, and make sure it is wrapped around you firmly.”
“But—”
He interrupted her. “You will then scoot up under the bush with all your might while I will push you. Do you understand?”
She nodded and did as he instructed.
“One moment.” He bent forward to pull the robe up over an exposed spot. “Now go, scoot up as far as you can.”
Without another thought, she did it, using her forearms and every muscle available to her to push herself under that bush. Meanwhile, Grey Coyote assisted by shoving at her.
Fragrances of rawhide, all mixed up with roses, dirt and the woodsy scent of bark assailed her, and, combined with the scent of her own fear, the smell was distinct. But the one fear she had dreaded most didn’t happen. She wasn’t pricked. The robe had cushioned her against it.
At last it was done, but she was yet again surprised when Grey Coyote didn’t follow her.
Indeed, she heard him moving away. Instinctively, she called out in a whisper, “Aren’t you coming in here with me?”
“I will be back. But first I must erase our tracks from the earth. If I do not return, you are to stay here and keep silent. No matter what happens, you are not to say a word or indicate in any way you are here. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she whispered, and then he was gone, leaving her alone with her thoughts.