Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
“Husband…heap…good scout.”
Marietta gave Grey Coyote an affectionate glance, as well as a warm smile, even though he wasn’t at the moment gazing at her. So deeply was he involved in setting up their camp, he took little notice of the two women.
All night the three of them had set their wits against the warriors. By keeping to an irregular path, crawling through bushes and shrubs, and constantly paying attention to erasing their trail from the land, they managed to still be alive.
At last—it was early morning—it appeared as if the enemy had given up, and the three escapees had stopped to set up camp, each enjoying a good bath and scrub.
A narrow coulee would be their home for the day, providing them with shelter as well as a few amenities.
Nearby ran a shallow stream that played host to a solitary live cottonwood tree.
Several dead tree stumps were scattered over the ground, looking as though they had been lifted up by their roots and thrown about the earth, perhaps in some long-ago battle between God and the elements.
Sundry thorny shrubs and bushes grew close to the water, as well as short bunches of green grass.
The walls of the coulee were lined with sandstone, and many of the rocks heaped up next to the stream were of this same sandstone.
It was near these boulders that Grey Coyote worked, and Marietta could tell he was taking pains to set up their temporary dwelling so it would fade into the environment, becoming invisible to all but those who knew it was there.
After a while, Marietta said, “You are right, my friend. Grey Coyote is a good scout, isn’t he?”
Yellow Swan held her right hand up, forefinger up. Twisting her hand slightly, she brought her finger down in a flash—Indian sign language for yes. “Him embarrass enemy…warriors all.”
“Yes,” agreed Marietta. “And he’s teaching me a little about scouting too.”
“Humph!” replied Yellow Swan. “Wolf Clan…secret…hmmm…club. Him risk…much…telling you…”
“Does he really? He dares the wrath of his own people by showing me how to scout?”
“Clan of…scout…secret…even to own…tribe. Many not…know who…are. If warriors know…how scout…track…scout not…safe. Them keep…all secret.”
“How very interesting. I didn’t know this.”
Yellow Swan nodded.
It was still early in the morning, and as yet the sun hadn’t appeared on the horizon. Still, in the east, the sky was starting to come alive in shades of silver grey and navy blue. Not a cloud marred the heavens, and in Marietta’s opinion, it was looking to be a beautiful day.
Not that they would see much of it. For all intents and purposes, they would be asleep inside their hidden shelter.
It would be a well-deserved sleep. They had traveled far through the night, and this continuous skulking over the landscape was becoming wearisome.
They had fled over a midnight prairie as though they were lengthy shadows touching the earth. It had been a pleasing night, but Marietta couldn’t recall ever being more exhausted.
“Tell me, Yellow Swan,” said Marietta as she turned her attention away from Grey Coyote and to her friend. “What happened to you? How did you come to be with the war party?”
Yellow Swan nodded, then began. “When white…friend’s other…husband—”
“Mr. LaCroix was not my husband,” Marietta corrected.
“Oh,” said Yellow Swan, “that right. It hard…for Yellow Swan”—she pointed to herself—“to…understand. But I…try.” She smiled at Marietta. “When white man who act like husband…”
Marietta sighed.
“When him lost…white woman…to him”—Yellow Swan indicated Grey Coyote—“white man took Yellow Swan as wife. Travel far. Go down…Big River. One night…war party come…kill him…take me.”
“That war party that had captured you—they killed LaCroix?”
“Han.” Yellow Swan nodded.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It…bad thing…but…waste…good,” Yellow Swan said. “You go with…this scout.” Yellow Swan inclined her head toward Grey Coyote. “White friend—avoid…bad…men. You go with…white man you be captured…too.”
“That’s true. But tell me, I never did understand exactly why you were traveling south with me, and I never asked. Were you, by any chance, going this way in order to reunite with your tribe?”
“Hiya, no. Yellow Swan…travel south…to find…own husband. Him gone…long time…go south…get ponies. Him gone…too long. I go…look for him.”
“Dear Lord,” uttered Marietta. “I didn’t know this was why you had agreed to make the trip with me.”
Yellow Swan nodded. “I…find him…soon. Be…happy.”
Marietta stared at her friend for several minutes, and though she doubted that Yellow Swan would ever find her husband alive, she kept this opinion to herself. “Then it is good we rescued you. And since we are proceeding south, perhaps we may find your husband along the way.”
“Han,” said Yellow Swan. “Sece, perhaps. White friend…good friend.”
“I try to be. I do try.”
Presently, Grey Coyote approached them both.
He appeared to have finished his chore, but it seemed he needed some piece of rock or wood in order to finish what he had started.
With several hand signals, Marietta could see he was instructing Yellow Swan to help him in some way.
At least it looked this way to Marietta, since Yellow Swan arose and stepped toward the water.
Marietta started to rise and follow in her wake, but Grey Coyote placed his hand over Marietta’s, keeping her seated.
Curious, Marietta asked, “What did you tell her?”
“I asked your friend to get us water.”
“Oh. Not that I’m complaining or anything, but it would be nice if you would speak in English, so I might understand you, as well. Otherwise, I feel rather…left out.”
He nodded. “I will try to correct this, but perhaps also my wife might think to learn the language of sign, for it is the way all tribes talk to one another.”
“Yes. Although…” she cast Grey Coyote a veiled glance, “…since I won’t be in this country very long, there seems little reason to learn it.”
He didn’t comment, but his look at her was long and solemn. “I came to beg a moment alone with you.”
“Oh?”
“Come, I have found something I want to show you.”
“Very well.” She followed him up and trod across their camp. He led her to a log that had fallen across the stream, perhaps in ages past. At least it seemed it must have been ancient, because in spots the log was hollowed.
Without warning, Grey Coyote squatted, poked his hand into its trunk, and pulling back, he came away with something…alive. A tiny, little masked creature.
Marietta gasped. “Oh, my! It’s a baby raccoon. Oh… It’s adorable.” She reached out to touch it. “It’s sweet, isn’t it? But where’s its mother?”
“She is nearby, perhaps gathering food or maybe watching us. Her tracks are here.” He pointed toward them. “And they are fresh. But the baby does not yet know fear, and she has a few brothers and sisters in this hole with her.”
“Oh… Can I pet her?”
Grey Coyote gave her a smile and nodded. “It is why I thought I would show her to you. But we cannot keep her. You know this.”
“Of course I do. But I have never seen a baby raccoon.” She returned his grin. “How can you tell it is a girl? I mean, she’s so small.”
“In the age-old way.” He pulled up its tail. “She may be small, but it is not impossible to distinguish male from female.”
“I see.” She bestowed a good-natured smile upon Grey Coyote.
He laughed with her, but it was more than the gesture of a simple smile. Somehow, in some way, this moment between them was special. It was as though they were sharing an instant unlike any other. Love and affection flowed like a current between them. And all because of a baby raccoon.
She should tell him. After all, he had confessed his love for her. She should at least admit she had…feelings for him. She took a breath, glanced up at him, opened her mouth…but whatever she had meant to say died on her lips.
Behind him, standing at the peak of the coulee, were two coyotes. Seeming neither friendly nor fearful, they appeared rather misty, as though they stood in shadow.
“Mr. Coyote, look there.” Marietta indicated the spot with her head.
Grey Coyote turned, nodded slowly, then gazed at her in a curious fashion. Though he said, “You see them,” his look at her was puzzled.
“Of course I see them.”
Unexpectedly, the coyotes began to howl, yipping, with one answering the other, but gradually, although she was never certain when it happened, their barking turned into talk…human talk…English…
Was she losing her mind?
“The one you seek is near,” said the male coyote, the larger of the two. “Your chance approaches.”
“Neither small nor large, nor wide, nor narrow, the white man possesses a thing that will propel you toward freedom.
Though he will think it is possessed by him and though you must possess it, and it will possess you, only when you are free from it, yet act as it, will your people be released from the mist.
“You alone must solve this, you alone must act on it, and if you do, your people go free. Fail to settle the riddle satisfactorily, fail to act, and your people remain enslaved. Further, if you err and do not resolve this, you will live the rest of your life forever knowing that you did not prove yourself worthy.”
But there was more.
The smaller coyote, who must have been female, yipped, then spoke. “Woman, do not be deceived. You are now, and have always been, a part of this.”
Then in unison, they said, “We have spoken.”
Slowly, the images disappeared, as though they had been no more than a mirage. For a long moment, Marietta could neither speak nor look away from the spot where they had been.
When she shifted her weight and sat forward, the spell dissipated. She shook her head. “That was…bizarre.”
“Indeed,” Grey Coyote responded.
Marietta blinked several times. “I…I could have sworn…no, it couldn’t have been.”
Grey Coyote was looking at her strangely. “Couldn’t have been?”
“Oh, it was nothing. I just… I thought… Did their howling seem peculiar to you?”
“What do you mean, peculiar?”