Chapter Seventeen

Mike moved efficiently around the area she had chosen as a camp. She pulled the blankets off the horses, and unpacked the baskets and skins before spreading some of the skins over the bushes and some on the ground. The baskets and blankets she put at the back of the makeshift tent. Adam stood out of her way, unwilling to interrupt her quick and methodical movements.

“Wouldn’t it be better if the shelter was against the rocks?” asked Adam.

She looked and pointed up. “Only if you want your head smashed by one of those rocks. A shelter is built away from rocks. It is not built in a low place because of rushing rain water. It is not built where there are desert dog droppings because they will come in your shelter. It is not built near the water.”

“Wait. Why wouldn’t you build a shelter near water?”

“Do you want to be trampled in the night by the desert animals that come to drink?” Adam smiled slightly, nodding. “Come with me,” she said. She began cutting brush here and there, never taking more than a few stems from any one plant. She handed them to Adam. “We will use these to cover the shelter.” She motioned for him to continue gathering brush.

She had chosen a place away from the base of a sheer rock wall leading up into the mountains they had been skirting. When the shelter was blended into the desert landscape, she said, “Wait here,” removing her clothes and holding her knife between her teeth, then climbing up what Adam had thought was unclimbable.

He watched her ascend, clinging to the rock, the color of the rock and her skin making it seem as if she melted into it. He watched her quickly choose her handholds and footholds, zigzagging her way up. When she reached the top, she crawled over the edge and disappeared.

He sat down on a rock, waiting…and sweating. The sun was barely up and it was already hot. He jumped when she surprised him, appearing before him naked, glistening with sweat. “Where did you go?”

“To see if we are being followed. I saw no one. We will sleep safely here. It would be better for you if you remove your shirt and pants and wear only your dopada’-nee’…your breechcloth. Your pants are biga-gusa. Your shirt is kwasun.”

“I won’t be as comfortable as you think.”

“When we arrive at the village of the Shoshoni, you will see the men wearing only their dopada’-nee’. The women will wear only their biga-gwasu’N,” holding her hand in front of her to indicate a skirt. This is the way we live in the hot season.” She walked around behind him, sneering at him. “You white men think you have such modesty. You make the desire worse by covering up. Indian braves do not want after women who are not theirs to want.”

He glanced up toward the sky. “I’m not an Indian brave.”

“No, you are not,” she said scornfully. “Come. We will hunt and eat. Then we will sleep.” Adam followed her as she easily moved across the desert floor, over rocks and through brush, as if she were floating just above the ground, making no sound. She stopped and sat on a rock. “We will never find food. You sound like a herd of buffalo. Stay here.”

Adam grimaced. He knew he was noisy. He heard himself move, crunching, stumbling, the brush scratching against his pants.

He watched her climbing over the rocks, poking in crevices with a stick. She stopped at a crevice, working the stick in and out, eventually pulling out a rattlesnake. It had not yet come out to warm itself in the morning sun and moved slowly. She slung it to the ground and quickly threw her knife, pinning the snake to the ground just below the head. Then she jumped down and cut the head off with her other knife. Bringing the snake near the shelter, she laid the body and head out on a rock then began to gather twigs from the brush and from a nearby ocotillo cactus. Soon she had a small fire burning. She sat, taking the snake and pushing the stick she had used to pull it out of the crevice into the meat. Then she pulled the skin down and away. The snake was a good-sized snake, measuring the width of three fingers across its back. Once the skin was removed, she wrapped the snake around the stick pushing the other end of the stick into the meat, then laid it over the fire propped up between two rocks. Cutting the rattle off the end, she then split the skin, laying a six finger wide band out flat on a wide rock next to the head to dry. The rattle was strung on a piece of twine that she wore around her neck. Nothing of the snake was wasted. She turned the stick holding the meat over on the fire then walked to a cactus, cutting and spearing two fruits on each knife. She set each fruit on one of the rocks by the fire.

Once the fine spines at the base of the fruit were burned off, she skinned them and cut them in halves, handing two halves to Adam.  Pulling the rattlesnake meat off the fire, she cut it in half and handed half to him. “Eat.” Mike watched him stare at his meal for a moment. When he looked up at her, she held up a piece of the cactus fruit and bit into it. “It is good. It will quiet your thirst,” she said, then motioned for him to do the same. He took a small bite, chewing slowly, then raised his eyebrows and nodded. Next, she nodded at the rattlesnake as she picked her half up, cutting it into small pieces then putting one in her mouth and chewing.

He did the same, warily chewing the meat, slowly smiling. “Tastes like chicken.” He picked the small bones out of his mouth and enjoyed the rest of his meal.

“How far do you think we’ve come today?” asked Adam.

“We will be with the Shoshoni after two more sleeps. When we arrive, they will be uneasy. They are fighting to stay on their land. If they stop us, you will not fight. They must be sure we are not an enemy before they will take us to their hidden village. We will speak the language of the Shoshoni first, and then, when they know who I am, they will speak your tongue so that you may understand. We will stay in my grandmother’s lodge. We will talk to the chief and his braves about the lead mines and deliver medicine in return.”

Adam sat listening, chewing the cactus fruit. He held it in his mouth, enjoying the cool wetness. “Why are you doing this? You could’ve turned me down. You would have been safe in your cabin back in Aurora instead of…” he waved his hand around him, “in this.”

“I am more comfortable in this…” she said, copying his gesture, “than I am in Aurora.” The white men there look at me with hunger in their eyes. It is not a good feeling.” She paused, looking at her feet. “I have agreed to take you…so that I can buy more medicine.”

To Adam, she seemed almost remorseful. He thought she could well be the only one that could help her people survive. “You speak English well. If you used contractions, I wouldn’t know you were part Indian. Do you know what that means?”

“My great-grandmother was a white woman who taught in your schools. I understand the words. I use them, but only around the whites. The Indians would not think well of me if I spoke like the white man.” She watched him eat, then asked. “Is your brother all there is of your family?”

“No, my father was away on business…in St. Louis. My brother, Hoss, stayed to watch our ranch and meet my father when he arrives home. We decided I should start searching before the trail disappeared. What about your family?”

“My father was killed fighting the soldiers. My mother is with the Aha macave that refused to go to the reservation. My grandfather…” She picked up a handful of sandy soil, wiping her knife in it until the blade shined, then covered the small fire with dirt and moved the rocks on top. By the time she was finished, all signs of the fire had disappeared.

“Go to the shelter. I will follow you.” As Adam moved to the shelter, she cut a piece of brush dragging it over the ground to cover their footprints as she followed him in. Earlier, she had moved the horses into a small canyon in sight of the shelter, fed them mesquite beans mixed with a small amount of oats, watered them from one of the pokes and poured water in the shallow hole of a shaded rock. The higher walls were on the north and south of the canyon, giving the horses shade most of the day.

She entered the shelter next to Adam, and lay down on the skins, rolling the blanket and using it as a pillow. Adam did the same and lay down next to her, already miserable from the heat. He moved around uncomfortably, until she sat up. “If you would take off your biga-gusa and kwasun, you would be more comfortable, and I will be able to sleep,” she said sternly. “Wear only your dopada’-nee’.”

Adam sat, pursing his lips, thinking that if Joe and Hoss ever found out about this, he would never hear the end of it.  He took his clothes off, put his breechcloth back on and lay down. Soon, he was asleep.