Authors: Janelle Taylor
As gently as possible, Caroline inserted two clean fingers to examine the child’s crown and hopefully to surmise the problem. It was evident the baby’s head was large and Chumani’s flesh refused to stretch or even tear to give it enough space to exit. “Did Wind Dancer tell you what I must do so the baby can escape your body?”
“My husband said you must use a knife to free our child. He said you must sew up the cut you make as I sew two skins together. It will hurt, but I will bite the stick. I will be still and silent. Do what must be done.”
“I must tell you, Dewdrops, when a baby’s head is trapped for so long in this way, it has a … strange shape when the child is freed. Do not be afraid or worried, for it will change before the next full moon. It may be tepee-shaped for some time, but it will soon become round,” Caroline explained, choosing words she hoped Chumani understood, and knowing the moon had been full only a few nights ago. When Macha lifted Chumani’s head after the woman nodded and gave her something to drink, Caroline asked what it was and hoped it wasn’t some unknown herb that was slowing delivery.
Chumani swallowed ad said, “Willow bark to help soften the pain.”
From days with her grandfather, Caroline was familiar with willow bark tea treatment so she relaxed. “Are you ready to do this task?”
Chumani took a deep breath and nodded. She replaced the softened stick between her teeth and ordered herself to stay motionless and quiet. Never had she been so afraid and uncertain in her life, not even during the many daring rides she had made against their enemies four summers past. She closed her eyes and prayed for her child’s survival, even if that victory demanded the sacrifice of her life, though she also prayed it would not.
Caroline lifted the knife, slipped her fingers between the
child’s head and mother’s body, and was amazed how easily and quickly the reddened flesh gave way with the sharp blade. Blood ran forth but she could not use the alum powder as a styptic at that point, as it could get into the child’s eyes, nose, or mouth. She laid aside the knife and, when a contraction started, told Chumani, “Push hard, Dewdrops; the opening is larger now.”
It required only one more contraction and bearing down for the baby’s imprisoned head to find freedom. As she had witnessed doctors doing, with haste and care, Caroline removed the torn veil and wiped the infant’s eyes and mouth with a cloth ripped from her petticoat. Without much delay and with another determined push from Chumani, Caroline caught its slick body as it almost gushed forth in eagerness to show itself at last.
After she placed the newborn on Chumani’s warm frame, Caroline moved aside so Winona could take over to cut the umbilical cord in a certain way as was their custom, and as she had been told to do by Cloud Chaser as they approached Wind Dancer’s tepee. As she awaited the passing of the afterbirth, Caroline watched the older woman leave several inches of the lifeline attached to the baby, then strap it down to the newborn’s stomach using a leather strip around its waist until the excess fell off. After showing the girl to Chumani, Winona took the infant aside to clean and bundle it.
As soon as the placenta was expelled, Macha cut off the remaining umbilical cord and laid it on a piece of bark so Winona could prepare it in their custom. She placed the afterbirth in a pouch and laced it snug, as it would be buried later in the forest and covered with heavy rocks by Winona, to be reclaimed by Mother Nature, who was thanked for the use of that gift.
Caroline used fresh water and strips from her petticoat to bathe and dry Chumani’s loins. She removed a cork stopper from a small glass vial and sprinkled white alum powder on the incision to halt the bleeding so she could see to insert the
stitches. She chose the curved wire needle instead of the straight one and prepared it with the Chinese suture thread that was called “silver wire 1/4 ounce silk.” She held up the needle and allowed Chumani to view it while explaining what she was about to do. “I will work as fast and gently as I can, Dewdrops, but it will hurt and I must be careful to do it right. The loops I’ll make are called stitches; they remain in your body for seven suns while the cut heals. On the eighth sun, I cut the ties and remove the
hahunta,”
she said, using the Indian word for thread.
As soon as she nodded comprehension and permission, Chumani braced herself for the piercings of the tiny and sharp-pointed bow. As the white woman did her task, Chumani thought of the cuttings and piercings her husband had received on his chest from the shaman’s knife and the eagle’s talons in preparation of his Sun Dance ritual. She winced at the pain, but did not jerk or flinch. This event was something she must endure with courage and prowess, even gratitude for what it had achieved. Her child was alive and safe, and soon she would be healed. To distract herself from the prickings and tuggings, she watched Macha tend her daughter, who was crying now, a joyous sound to her ears. She hoped her beloved husband was close enough to detect those cries, as they would tell Wind Dancer their baby had been born thanks to Caroline. And thanks to his brother for capturing the white girl and bringing her to their camp. Already Caroline had helped save War Eagle’s life and now had saved that of this precious little one nearby. Mutely she prayed to the Great Spirit who had enabled such events to happen and such blessings to be received.
Chumani’s gaze traveled to a humming Winona, who had prepared the cord with preserving herbs and other things from nature. She watched the child’s grandmother coil and insert the umbilical cord inside a leather tortoise that—as was the custom—Winona had made for the baby to wear around its belly until age two, when it would be attached
somewhere on its clothing. A second leather creature—a sand lizard—would be secured in full view on the cradle-board to dupe any evil spirit who might try to steal the child’s lifeline, as a sand lizard was fast and cunning and difficult to catch.
She saw her husband’s mother rock her body back and fort as she sewed shut the insertion opening along the edge of the tortoise’s shell. Her gaze returned to the white female as she murmured she was “almost finished.”
Caroline clipped the length of silk thread following the last stitch. She washed her bloody hands in the water holder nearby. She sprinkled on a little more styptic, then replaced the cork stopper. She put the needle into the water to wash it, planning to boil it later to thoroughly cleanse and sterilize it. She helped Chumani put on a female breechclout, inserting into its crotch a folded section of material from her petticoat that was filled with cattail down and crushed buffalo chips to absorb the blood that would flow for a few days. Then, Chumani was assisted to her sleeping mat.
As Caroline completed her tasks, Macha cleaned up the birthing area. Her work finished, she praised Caroline for her skills and bragged about Chumani and the infant before she left to tell Wind Dancer and the others the good news. Afterward, she would tend her son and get needed nourishment and long-awaited sleep. Besides, her best friend since childhood would be eager to visit Dewdrops, as Hanmani must present her with a cradle-board, for it was the custom for sisters of the parents to make it. Dewdrops had no sister, so Hanmani had made cradle-boards for the children of both brothers. Such a deed was done to show a sister’s love, respect, and pride toward the parents, and to display her many skills.
Chumani lay on her right side, smiling and teary eyed as she looked at her baby, who was nestled against her. Her fingers tenderly stroked the girl’s pudgy face and thick dark hair. Her gaze roamed the infant’s large head, which did have
a conical appearance. She recalled Caroline had said it would go away soon, and she believed the woman who had wrought this magic.
She looked at the white captive, who was watching them and smiling. “You are a good woman, Caroline,” she said. “I thank you for this gift of life. You will be called a friend by me and my husband. When I am healed and strong again, “I will make you a gift of thanks. This daughter will be named Inunpa, for she came
Second
to me and my husband.” Before anyone could speak, Chumani jested, “I would call her Comes Hard or Friend Brings Her, but her name was chosen many full moons past if she entered this land as a female.”
Caroline noticed how relaxed and cheerful Chumani was as she talked and joked as if they were indeed friends. She smiled and said, “She is a beautiful daughter, Dewdrops, and I am honored to be your friend.” She did not say that friendship and words of gratitude were enough thanks for her, as she had learned it was bad manners to refuse a gift. As she watched mother and child cuddled together, she felt a mixture of emotions and sensations: calm, elation, relief, pride, and envy. She also was stimulated and awed by the wonder of this miracle and her important part in it. Surely it was to her benefit being the one who had saved the lives of the wife and child of the Red Shield’s future chief, the brother of her heart’s desire.
Even so, to capture War Eagle’s attention, respect, and affection was not why she had helped Chumani, nor was any attempt to better her role in the camp a reason for doing so. Yet, it would please her if those things happened as result of her help today. Perhaps, her excited mind imagined, her deed would prompt her release. But that freedom would have a heavy and painful price, the loss of War Eagle forever.
How,
her heart queried,
can you lose what you do not possess, will probably never possess?
Caroline thrust those troubling thoughts from her mind as Hanmani entered the tepee and approached them. She watched
the young woman kneel, gaze almost reverently at mother and child, and smile in apparent joy.
In Lakota, Hanmani said to Dewdrops, “I bring you a cradle for your daughter. May it give her many seasons of happiness, protection, warmth in winter, and good dreams on every sun and moon. You suffered long and hard, my sister, but she is with us now, and I thank the Creator.”
The grandmother lifted the bundled infant and secured her in the highly decorated and skillfully crafted cradle. She tied the leather sand lizard to a piece of the top section, then replaced the baby by its mother, which was the signal to summon the father and the family to view the child.
Hanmani leapt to her feet to beckon the others. She noticed Caroline standing at a distance to give them privacy during this special event, or perhaps awaiting the command to leave. For a brief time, she could not help remembering that the mother of her heart’s desire also was white—Sparrow, mother of Red Wolf of the Cheyenne, friend and ally of her brother War Eagle. Nor could she forget that Cloud Chaser was half white, and she loved him as much as she did her other two brothers. She smiled and said in English, “Thank you, Caroline.”
Caroline smiled, and said,
“Pilamaya,
Hanmani.” As the men—Rising Bear, Wind Dancer, and Cloud Chaser—entered, she wondered what she should do now—go or stay, speak or keep silent. She was surprised when the father halted in front of her before approaching his wife and newborn.
“My heart feels great joy and pride in your deed,” he said. “I thank the Great Spirit for sending you to us. You are a woman of much honor and skills. I thank you for saving my mate and child. It is good you are here.”
An emotional lump entered her throat and played havoc with her speaking, but Caroline finally managed to say, “Thank you, Wind Dancer, for trusting me and allowing me to help them. Both will be well and strong very soon. Your
knife,” she said as she held it out to him, and he accepted its return with another smile before joining his wife.
Wind Dancer was handsome, tall, muscular, kind, and intelligent. With numerous coups painted or beaded on his tepee—horses, weapons, and certain garments—he was a man of enormous courage and prowess. From what Caroline had witnessed so far, he was loved, respected, and obeyed by his people. There was a regal air and majestic look about him, no doubt the results of years of training and practice to become the next chief. She felt as if she was in the presence of a man who would be a great leader. She noticed that his father did not join or speak to her, but Rising Bear looked her way and nodded before he focused his attention on his family. But Cloud Chaser did join her for a few words.
“You did a brave and skilled deed, Caroline. Everyone in my family is grateful to you for saving their lives and ending their suffering. Perhaps this event was why you were sent to us and why the Great Spirit did not allow War Eagle to take you to the Cheyenne camp. Most of our people will feel and think the same way. I wish this good deed could earn you your freedom, but this is not the time for you to leave us with war approaching. If we spoke for your release, some would resist it in fear of you revealing our strength and my brother’s past deed to the soldiers. I am sorry.”
Caroline replied in matching whispers, “Don’t worry, Cloud Chaser; I didn’t perform this deed to earn my freedom. I understand your people’s hesitation and reluctance to release me. In their position, I would feel and do the same thing. Besides, Dewdrops will need me to remove the stitches in a week; and, with soldiers on the move, I wouldn’t know where to find my brother. I’m probably safer here for the present. But thank you for believing in me and becoming my friend. Is it all right if I leave now? I’m sure your wife needs my help so she can get some rest.”
“You are kind, Caroline. Return to my tepee and help
Dawn. Then, you must also rest. I doubt you got much sleep last night.”
As she started to depart, Chumani halted her for a moment as the new mother smiled radiantly and thanked her again; so did a grinning Wind Dancer and Hanmani. As for the chief and his wife, Rising Bear and Winona simply nodded. The actions of War Eagle’s family pleased and elated Caroline, but she wondered where he was and why he hadn’t come to visit the new baby. Perhaps it was because she made him uneasy. No doubt he would come to visit as soon as she was gone.
Caroline learned the reason for his absence as she exited and headed for Cloud Chaser’s tepee. She saw War Eagle and two braves—his friend Swift Otter and Dawn’s brother River’s Edge—returning to camp from a hunt, that fact apparent by the large buck lying across another horse. She saw him look at her, his expression one of confusion and surprise as she departed from his oldest brother’s dwelling, alone. Her body warmed from head to feet as she averted her gaze and continued onward to join Dawn. Dusk was closing in fast and she had chores—fetching water and wood, cooking, and eating—to do before night came.