Savage Tempest (24 page)

Joylynn scratched at her left arm, where wet clay and herbs had been rubbed into her flesh before leaving for the hunt. High Hawk had told her that
the clay and sand served useful purposes on the hunt. Clay reduced the chances of being bitten by insects. The
parakaha
, a fragrant herb, prevented sunburn.

Joylynn was dressed in fringed breeches that had been loaned to her by a young brave of her size. She also wore that brave's fringed shirt, while High Hawk and his warriors wore only breechclouts and moccasins. High Hawk's hair was loose and flowing, while hers was worn in one long braid down her back.

All but Joylynn carried bows and quivers of arrows for the hunt. High Hawk had taught her that gunfire spooked the buffalo, causing them to stampede. High Hawk had told her how he had laughed when he saw the ignorance of white men using guns to hunt them.

Joylynn carried her rifle only for protection, should a buffalo come after her. She would have no choice but to shoot it, only then risking a stampede.

Since they rode in an area that was safe from whites interfering, the Pawnee carried their bows unstrung. Bowstrings made of braided sinew would stretch and weaken if kept continually under the great tension that was necessary during the hunt.

“When there was no need to hurry into a hunt as we are doing today, young boys would join us,” High Hawk said. “It is a good time for the young braves. They take their small bows and arrows and shoot at birds that flutter up from the grass. The
young braves sometimes even take careful aim at butterflies darting before them.”

He chuckled as he continued to describe what he recalled so vividly in his mind's eye. “When I was older, but yet not old enough to join the true hunt, I was among those who would gather to walk in a line abreast and drive out birds, rabbits and other small creatures to be killed. At day's end, enough small game was taken back to the village to fill our mothers' cook pots. The true hunters would come in later with the larger meat for their families.”

High Hawk paused and placed a hand above his eyes, slowly scanning the land on all sides of him; his warriors did the same.

Then he lowered his hand as Joylynn edged her steed closer to his. “What else are the buffalo used for besides food?” she asked, truly curious. She wanted to return to the village with as much knowledge as she could.

She had much to learn in order to be the best wife possible for this young Pawnee chief.

“The best hide coverings are made from buffalo, not deer,” High Hawk said, glad that his woman wanted to know so much of his people's customs. “Bed coverings, clothing and saddles are also made from buffalo hide. Sinew from the animal is used for stringing our bows. My people's women soften and dress the skins with brains from the buffalo. Mallets are made of the hoofs. Water bags are made from the bladder.”

“Buffalo!” Three Bears said as he came up to High Hawk's left side. “They have been sighted around the bend, where the stream turns into a wide river.”

“Spread the word,” High Hawk said.

In his eyes was an anxiousness and gleam that Joylynn had never seen before. She could not help feeling the same excitement, even though she would not participate in the hunt. Just being with High Hawk at such a moment was enough to cause her heart to race with excitement.

High Hawk turned to her. “Go and stay far behind the warriors, where you can safely observe,” he said. “Do not move from that place unless by chance the buffalo are scared into stampeding, or they run toward you.”

“I will be alert at all times,” Joylynn murmured, resting her hand on her rifle, which was primed and ready as it stood in her gunboot at the right side of her horse. “Good luck.”

“Good . . . luck?” High Hawk repeated, arching an eyebrow.

“That is a way white people wish good fortune on their hunters,” Joylynn explained.

High Hawk smiled broadly as he reached over and took one of her hands in his. “The hunt today, a wedding tomorrow,” he said. “Tomorrow, my woman, you will be my bride.”

“Tomorrow,” she murmured, then watched him ride away with the others. She followed more slowly until she saw the buffalo herd just as she
rounded the bend, where tall trees had until now kept them hidden.

She gasped in astonishment at how many buffalo she saw. A vast herd stood there together, grazing on the tall, green grass that swayed in the breeze.

She drew rein and searched out a less dangerous place. Seeing a slight hill where she could look down upon the hunt in safety, she rode up the slight incline. On the back side were thick trees that would also provide protection.

On two sides, the land stretched out far and wide, and on the other lay the river, with its pristine water reflecting the sun and the clouds floating away in the blue sky.

Just to be certain she would remain safe, she drew her rifle from the gunboot and rested it on her lap, then settled in more comfortably on the saddle. She had brought her binoculars, which hung around her neck.

She lifted them and gazed through the glass, watching the men slowly approaching downwind of the herd. The buffalo still were not aware of the danger drawing near.

Some of the herd grazed peacefully, while those closer to the river pawed the earth with one hoof.

She could hear some of the buffalo bellowing, others snorting.

And then her breath caught in her throat when she saw all of the hunters, with High Hawk in the lead, take their assigned positions as they formed a
horseshoe shape with the open end toward the buffalo herd.

Some warriors now advanced on foot and made a line at the ends closest to the herd.

Those with the fastest horses were at a greater distance from the herd. But they waited and watched, and only when several of the buffalo suddenly sat down, resting in the grass and dirt, did the warriors ride at a hard gallop toward them.

The buffalo obviously heard the rumble of the horses' hooves, for Joylynn saw them turn their heads toward the sound. Those buffalo that were standing could see the advancing warriors, yet still stood watching, as though not certain what to do.

Those that were sitting were just starting to rise. Gradually, they all began to move away. But just before they broke into a trot, the Pawnee hunters were among them.

The warriors on foot were shooting their arrows into the animals already, but they could not get closer because of the danger. This part of the hunt had to be conducted by those on horseback.

When the buffalo really began to run, Joylynn watched in awe as High Hawk and the mounted warriors were able to select which buffalo to shoot.

Joylynn knew, from what High Hawk had told her earlier, that they prefered to shoot a female because the meat was more tender and easier to prepare.

Joylynn had also been told that sometimes there was a competition among the hunters. The object
was to see how many buffalo one could shoot with a single arrow.

As she peered through her binoculars, she saw that when a buffalo ran, it exposed an area behind the leg where the tough hide was thin. Some men were able to shoot low through this spot. If an arrow was shot with sufficient force, it went completely through and into another animal, killing two buffalo with one arrow.

She was awed by the accuracy of each warrior. Many buffalo were taken down, and before she knew it, the others had run away to be hidden from sight in a thick stand of trees.

She still stayed away from the warriors as they began to prepare the buffalo's skin and meat for the return to their village. It almost made her ill to watch as the butchering began. It was not a delicate or pleasant task. It was messy work, with the summer flies and gnats almost unbearable. They were so bad that some warriors stood by, waving willow branches over the carvers.

But she knew they would much rather butcher the meat under these conditions than during the winter months, as they would have to do if their supply of meat ran out before spring. In the winter, the buffalo meat and skin began to freeze before it could even be processed.

High Hawk had said that the blood would cake and ice on the hunters' hands. In such cases, the hunters would place their hands in the vagina of a
downed animal, until they were warm enough to continue with the work.

Joylynn could no longer look through the binoculars. It was too gruesome a sight. She only hoped that when it came time to eat this meat, she wouldn't remember so vividly what she had witnessed today.

“I will be all right,” she whispered to herself, sighing heavily as she continued to wait until the meat was loaded on the horses.

After a while, something told her to look in the direction of the hunters again, and when she did, she found High Hawk waving at her.

She quickly saw that all of the meat was packed on the backs of the horses and covered. The horses had been led down by the river, where the men were already running into the water with their breechclouts on, washing off the clay and soil of the day, as well as the blood from the butchering.

She knew that sand would then be rubbed into the skin to further cleanse it.

She gazed at High Hawk again as he rode toward her with his burdened horse. She could see that his body was sparkling and clean beneath the rays of the sun. His wet hair clung to his shoulders and down his back. Obviously, he had already bathed.

Glad that the hunting and butchering was done, and even more anxious to return to the village so that she could prepare for her marriage, Joylynn mounted her steed, rode down the steep incline and met High Hawk.

“It is done,” he said. “There will be much food on our table, as well as my mother's and Two Stars's, for I am the one who does the hunting for all of us.”

“I'm so glad it's over,” Joylynn said, riding beside him as they headed toward home. “I had no idea it . . . it . . . would be this gruesome.”

“Now you see why the women, for the most part, do not get involved,” High Hawk said. “Some Pawnee do include their women, who come to butcher after the buffalo are killed. Even some children participate. But I feel the women of my village have enough to do without adding to their tasks.”

“I'm glad,” Joylynn said, laughing softly. “I would hate to think that I would have to dirty my hands with such blood . . . and . . . guts. I'm a strong woman, but not . . . that . . . strong.”

“Tomorrow has been brought closer by the time it has taken for the hunt and butchering,” High Hawk said with a twinkle in his eyes. “And you know what tomorrow means for us.”

“How could I forget?” Joylynn said, holding her head back to feel the sun warm on her face. She closed her eyes in ecstasy at the thought of being with High Hawk again and making love, this time as his wife.

She looked over her shoulder as the warriors rode up behind them. They wore a look of victory at having killed enough buffalo to sustain their people for the long winter months.

She could feel their pride.

It was good to be a part of such a wonderful people as these. She hoped that some months ahead, she would make the number of Pawnee grow as she brought another Pawnee child into the world!

She smiled at High Hawk, feeling confident that nothing would stand in the way of her bringing a son into this world. This time, the child she carried in her womb would be there because of a wonderful moment of lovemaking with her husband, not like before, when the child had been the result of a horrible rape.

This time, she would cherish every moment the child was inside her.

She began thinking of names, trying to choose one that would fit the son of a powerful Pawnee chief.

Then a name came to her that made her heart skip a beat.

Sleeping Wolf!

Yes, she would see if High Hawk would agree on the name Sleeping Wolf for their firstborn son. Wouldn't it please Blanket Woman to know that her own firstborn was being remembered in such a way?

Glad that the thought had come to her, Joylynn smiled softly at High Hawk. She hoped this gesture would further strengthen the bond between her and High Hawk's mother!

“Where are you taking me?” Joylynn asked as she clung to High Hawk's neck while he carried her away from the spot where moments ago they had spoken their wedding vows.

His people still danced and sang to the accompaniment of rattles made of dried gourds filled with seeds, drums and the lovely music from a flute of red cedar.

“To a special place where we will celebrate our first night as man and wife alone,” High Hawk said, continuing to run alongside the stream that slowly widened and deepened the farther they got from the village.

“Anywhere is special as long as I am with you,” Joylynn said, oh, so happy that finally they had been able to speak the vows that made them as one forever. He could not be any more handsome than he was now in his headdress of fox skins, his white,
fringed doeskin outfit, with fur moccasins on his feet.

His long hair flowed down his back, and Joylynn's was loose today as well. As he carried her, her hair swung down across his arms in rhythm with the swaying fringes of her own snow-white doeskin attire. The coral-colored beads adorning her dress flashed beneath the lowering sun.

“You have waited long for this day, so I wanted to be certain it was one that would live in your memory forever,” High Hawk said, still running along the stream, which was widening now into a river.

“How could I ever forget this day?” Joylynn murmured. “And your mother was so sweet and kind to me. I shall never forget when she gave me her gift. It is such a beautiful sewing kit that she made especially for me.”

“It is the custom of our people that no woman should be married without owning her own sewing kit,” High Hawk said. “
Ina
wanted to be the one to give you yours.”

“I shall learn to sew, honest I will,” Joylynn said, smiling up at him. “If a sewing kit is so important, the new wife using it must not disappoint her husband. High Hawk, I have never seen such beautiful awls, sinew threads dyed so many beautiful colors, and paints, beads and porcupine quills already dyed different colors and ready to be applied to the dresses and moccasins I will learn to make.”