Walks the Fire (9 page)

Looking around for the long case that held the firesticks, Jesse emptied its contents. Laying the narrow cedar splint on the ground, she held it firmly in place with one foot. Taking up the small bow, she wound the firestick in its strong sinew and placed one end of the stick on the cedar splint. With her left hand she placed a hollowed-out rock on top of the firestick and began to saw with the bow, intending to spin the firestick as she had seen Old One do. With the first movement of the bow, her hand bobbled. The stick was dislodged from the indentation in the rock and flipped into the air.

Jesse repeated the steps again, changing the way the firestick was wound into the sinew. It stayed in place—until her hand wobbled and the stick again came out of the indentation in the rock.

Patiently, she set up the paraphernalia again. This time, as she sawed with the bow, everything stayed in place, but the fringe on the hem of her dress became entangled in the sinew. She gasped with impatience. Something made her turn around. Several of the village women were watching through the tent opening. They giggled, pointing at her and talking among themselves.

Jesse’s face flushed red with anger and embarrassment. She tossed the firesticks aside and turned to face them, but they were gone, scurrying away as Rides the Wind set his load of buffalo meat down outside the door. Jesse sat in the dust, the firesticks at her side, fighting back tears. She looked up angrily, picked up the sticks and handed them over.

“I wanted to help—but I don’t know how.” Her voice was miserable.

Rides the Wind took the sticks and patiently demonstrated the art of making a fire. As he worked, she asked, “What were they saying?”

Rides the Wind shrugged and ignored her.

“I want to know.” She was kneeling next to him, trying to work the sticks as he had shown her.

Reaching over to steady the hand that held the rock, Rides the Wind said slowly, “They gave you a name.”

“I have a name. My name is Jesse King.”

“That is not Lakota. It means nothing.”

“Then what name do they give me?”

“Woman Who Makes No Fire.” Jesse flinched and turned away to hide the tears that threatened to spill over.

Rides the Wind offered no comfort. He continued to demonstrate the starting of the fire. Jesse sawed the little bow back and forth rapidly, angrily, and the force of her anger brought success. A tiny, glowing coal was finally created at the base of the cedar splint. Rides the Wind deftly tossed it into the tinder in the fire pit and blew on it steadily to encourage the flame to grow. In a few moments, smoke rose from the tepee’s opening.

The village women observed the smoke, but they did not change Jesse’s name. A few of the more eligible young women wondered how long it would be before Rides the Wind realized his mistake and returned the clumsy woman to her own kind.

Yellow Bird said it aloud. “The child does not need her. I would feed him buffalo soup and cherry juice. He would grow strong. He needs a mother from the people, not this woman who will teach him strange ways.”

Prairie Flower surprised herself by defending Jesse. “If Rides the Wind had wanted a woman from the village, he could have had one. Many hoped he would wrap his buffalo robe about them. He did not. It is our custom to be kind to the weak. We should help her if she wants to learn our ways. You have seen that she tries to learn. She cares well for the child of Dancing Waters and Rides the Wind. I have seen her tears for her own child.” Prairie Flower took a breath and looked at Yellow Bird as she added, “Think how it would be if
you
were among the
whites,
Yellow Bird!”

Yellow Bird retorted, “Rides the Wind has
not
wrapped her in his robe. There has been no feast. She is
not
his wife! She is only a slave. And, Prairie Flower,” she added hotly, “I would
die
before I would stay with a strange people!”

Prairie Flower demurred. “I do not know why she stays. Perhaps Rides the Wind will not let her go. Perhaps she has nowhere else to go. She does not seem to care for him. But she stays. If she wants to learn our ways, I will help her.”

Yellow Bird and her friends were already walking away from Prairie Flower, hurrying to their own tepees to begin the work of butchering and cooking their own kills. Prairie Flower’s defense ended abruptly as Howling Wolf pulled her away, scolding her for neglecting to erect the frame over their fire to cook their buffalo meat. He had erected the frame himself and brought in the small buffalo’s paunch. Filled with water, the paunch was hung on the frame over the fire. Soon, hot rocks and meat were added and allowed to boil.

While some of their meat boiled, Old One showed Jesse how to cut other meat into thin strips, which were hung on a large frame to dry in the sun. Pointing to the drying meat, she said,
“papa
” and Jesse repeated the word. Later in the day, they pounded thin-cut meat with marrow and choke-cherries.
Wakapapi,
Old One called it. Jesse was surprised to find that she liked it

That night there was a huge feast. Dancing and singing ran late into the night. Jesse watched as Rides the Wind sat among his friends, telling some story of the day’s hunt, his hands waving the air as he re-created a scene for them all.

Howling Wolf sat at the edge of the group, listening in stony silence. When the group joked about the size of Rides the Wind’s kill compared to his, Howling Wolf rose and stalked away without a word. When Rides the Wind protested and went after him, Howling Wolf refused the hand of friendship.

Still, there was great happiness in the village, and they all ate until they could eat no more. Jesse watched the dancing with lively interest. Dressed in their finest dresses, the women stood about the edge of the fire, hopping about slowly from left to right, then right to left. Each dancer stepped out with her left foot and then dragged the right to meet it, then the direction was reversed. Drums played by the men seated in a circle inside the dancers provided the rhythm for the dance.

She saw Old One with a band of crones and Prairie Flower smiling softly at a friend’s whispered secrets. Quietly, she slipped away from the campfire to the tepee of Rides the Wind. Two Mothers slept, but she scooped him up anyway. When Rides the Wind missed her and left the celebration to search, he found her sleeping soundly, Two Mothers nestled in the crook of her arm.

In the days that followed, Jesse learned that nearly all of the buffalo would be used by the Lakota. Horns became ladles and cups. Hair from the scraped hides was collected and used to stuff pillows. The ribs were kept for the children to use in games. Old One claimed the bladder as a pouch for storing some of her precious herbs.

Tanning the hide took all of Jesse’s strength. First, the skin was stretched on a large frame and allowed to dry in the sun. Once their hides were dry, the women began fleshing them, scraping fat and tissue away with an elkhorn scraper. Jesse worked hard, ignoring the aching shoulder muscles that complained about the new workout. The first scraping done, the skin was left to dry again, and in a few hours became stiff, dry rawhide. Still more scraping was needed to remove the hair from the hides.

Jesse inwardly recoiled from the next step in the tanning process, but she tried not to show it. Buffalo brains were cooked and, when cooled, spread over the skin until it was totally covered with the paste. Then, round, smooth stones were used to work the mixture into the skin. Finally, everything was covered with the broth the brains had been cooked in and allowed to age for the rest of the day. The hides were then soaked in a mixture of water and pounded yucca roots. They took on a sweet smell. Remounted on their frames, the hides were stretched again and the water worked out.

At Old One’s instruction, Jesse stretched and worked the hide over and over. Her shoulders and arms ached and she panted with the effort, but still Old One instructed her to continue working the hide. Finally, the two women pulled and stretched the drying hide over a braided buffalo sinew rope that had been attached to a tree limb high off the ground and stretched to a stake that had been pounded deep into the ground. The two women pulled and tugged with all their might as the hide was drying. To Jesse’s amazement, when it was finally dry, it was as soft as velvet.

At last, Rides the Wind took the softened hide and staked it over a slow-burning fire. As it was smoked, the hide turned a soft brown color. He explained to Jesse that smoking would keep the hide soft if it got wet.

Jesse helped Prairie Flower sew many hides together, using the long tendons from the buffalo’s back as “thread.” Howling Wolf smiled at the prospect of a new tepee and set to work decorating the outside with skillfully drawn pictographs. Jesse was amazed by his artistic ability, and her opinion of him softened as the beauty of the tepee grew.
Surely there must be a good side to a man who has such artistic abilities.

Jesse watched and learned as the women of the village transformed their buffalo hides into tepee covers, moccasin tops, dresses, leggings, and cradles. Feathers, porcupine quills, and dyes made from berries or roots were constantly in view as the women worked to create beautiful things for their families. Rawhide provided moccasin soles and parfleche boxes for storage. As they worked, the women sometimes roasted a large buffalo bone over a cottonwood bark fire. Every few minutes, someone would turn the bone so that it would cook evenly and thoroughly. When it was done, the women cracked the bone and ate the brown, tasty marrow.

One morning Prairie Flower signed that Jesse should begin a pair of moccasins. Jesse nodded her agreement and became a willing student. However, when time came to decorate the moccasins, she quickly displayed her own artistic skills, wielding the awl easily and creating an intricate beadwork design for Prairie Flower to admire.

When the moccasins were at last ready, Prairie Flower smiled coyly and suggested that Jesse give them to Old One. Old One accepted the gift with a warm smile and kind words.

Pointing at Jesse that night when Rides the Wind had joined them, she showed him the moccasins, and motioned for him to translate what she said.

“Among the people, it is the custom for a new wife to make moccasins for the husband’s mother. When the mother accepts the gift, she welcomes the new wife into the family.”

Jesse blushed at the message her innocent gift had sent to the old woman. Rides the Wind watched Jesse carefully as he concluded, “My mother accepts the gift you have given. She says that she welcomes you as my wife.”

His dark eyes met hers briefly, but then he picked up Two Mothers and said, “My son and I will say good night to Sun, now.” Jesse was left behind to watch as Old One donned her new moccasins, clucking her appreciation.

As the days went by, it became a habit for Rides the Wind to seat himself next to Jesse outside the tepee just at sunset. Holding Two Mothers, he would demand that she read from the “God book.”

Jesse struggled to know just what to read, until Rides the Wind solved the problem. One evening, as the village women looked on and smiled knowingly at one another, Jesse thumbed the pages of the Bible. Rides the Wind covered her hand with his own.

“Is not
all
of it from God?”

Jesse answered, “Yes, it is all from God.”

“Then you tell it all.”

So Jesse began reading,
“In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.
”

Rides the Wind listened attentively. Jesse had no way of knowing what he did and did not understand, for he never interrupted her. Obediently, she read until he would stand up abruptly and say, “It is enough.”

Then he would hand over Two Mothers, return the Bible to his parfleche, and leave to check on his horses. He rarely returned to the tepee until long after Jesse was asleep.

Nine

He paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his strength... He mocketh at fear.
—
Job 39:21–22

Jesse was almost asleep
one evening a few weeks later, when Rides the Wind entered the tepee, sat beside her, and asked abruptly, “Why do you fear horses?”

When she did not answer, he said, “Old One’s horse is a kind and gentle pony. Old One says you fear her. Why do you fear?”

Jesse remembered Old One’s laughter as she and her son had butchered the buffalo. She remembered the look of disbelief on Rides the Wind’s face.

“Has a horse ever hurt you?” he asked.

“No.”

“Your family?”

Jesse shook her head and said, “I have always been afraid—for no reason.” She shrugged her shoulders, feeling stupid for her groundless fears.

The Indian searched her face, trying to understand. Whatever he saw there, he said no more, but retreated to his own buffalo robe. Turning his back to her, he seemed to fall instantly asleep.

Jesse had just finished feeding Two Mothers the next morning when Rides the Wind came into the tent, took her hand, and led her outside. They walked quickly along the edge of the camp. Rides the Wind seemed to be trying to avoid being noticed. Jesse followed unquestioningly, her curiosity piqued by his unusual behavior. They were headed away from the camp. Tall grasses waved in the morning sun.