Chapter Twenty

“Ayasha, it is too dangerous for you to come again. If you are with the Shoshoni, you will be taken to the reservation. If you are found without the Shoshoni, the Army men will not be kind to you.”

“Hutsi’, if I do not bring the medicine, our people will die.”

“I will make the Shoshoni men understand that you do this to keep our people alive to fight. They will come to know.”

Adam and the Shoshoni men who were taking them toward the mines waited while Mike and her grandmother said their goodbyes. Mike swung her leg up and over one of the two horses the Shoshoni had given them to replace the two they had arrived on, and they left the village.

“Ayasha?” said Adam.

“My Shoshoni name.”

“What does it mean?”

“Little One.  Ssh. We must be quiet.”

They rode with four Shoshoni men through steep-sided canyons and up and over the mountains of dust and rock, never entering the wide valleys. When they arrived atop a high precipice, the men slid off their horses and motioned for Adam and Mike to join them lying on the edge. From where they were looking, the entire east end of the valley between two mountain ranges was visible. Mines could be seen as tiny points of dust where men were constantly moving in and out of them. The mines that were close together were gold or silver mines. Other mines were isolated, hugging looming rock walls; one with the opening positioned high up on the face of the wall.

“The white man digs the lead mines against the rock and high up so they cannot be attacked from sides or back…only front,” said one of the Shoshoni men, pointing. He crawled back away from the edge and stood. “We go no further. There lies the land of the Aha macave.”

The Shoshoni man took Mike by the arms. “Kimama has told us why you come to our lands again and again.” He looked up to the sky and said, “May Hania watch over you…and Tsiishchili,” he added, looking back at Adam. “Goodbye my sister.”

Mike and Adam watched as the Shoshoni men disappeared into the canyon below the precipice. “What did he say to you?” asked Adam.

“He asked that the Great Spirit warrior watch over us.”

“Us?” asked Adam with raised eyebrows.

“He gave you a Shoshoni name…Tsiishchili. You are one of the tribe.”

“What does it mean?”

She looked to the side trying to hide a grin. “It means ‘curly haired’”. He frowned. “Do not look displeased. It could have been Pehe-daaN.”

“And what does that mean?”

“Hairy one.” He looked down at his bare chest, bouncing his head from side to side with his eyebrows raised.

“Come. We have far to travel.” Even though the mines could be seen from the precipice, they were still more than two days ride away. “We will find a place to make camp and travel again in darkness.”

“The Shoshoni didn’t feel the need to do that. Why are we?”

“We have a better chance of avoiding the Aha macave if we travel at night. And the sun will not burn your skin.”

“I’ve already been traveling in the sun, and sunburn is not going to interfere with getting Joe out of there. What are the chances we’ll avoid the Aha macave?”

“Small,” she said as she took the braid out of her hair, now wearing it loosely falling over her shoulders.

“Then we’ll keep moving.” Mike pinched her mouth into an aggravated pucker, but before she could voice her dissent, Adam stopped her. “Not a word,” he growled, flaring his nostrils and furrowing his brows. She pulled her pucker in at his growl and did as she was told while Adam chuckled to himself. She reminded him of Little Joe at eight or nine years old when he was angry.

As they travelled, they stopped periodically to water their horses and themselves. In this part of the desert, plant life was sparse. They had not found a prickly pear cactus or any other edible plant for hours.

Adam had excused himself and walked behind some rocks. When he returned, an Indian, he assumed Aha macave, was dragging a struggling Mike away, holding his hand over her mouth. Adam pulled his knife from the sheath he wore at his waist, intent on freeing Mike, but several more men jumped down from the rocks above him, surrounding them. Adam looked around him and back at Mike, who was staring intently at him.

“You dare touch my woman!” he shouted, then lunged forward with his knife. The other Aha macave closed in on him, holding him by the arms and neck as he struggled to free himself.

“Who are you?” said the man holding Mike.

“I am Chacha hoda, daughter of Chacha wakavar. I have brought medicine for Fulani moco’o.”

“Fulani moco’o lives with the Great Spirit. “Quaskette howa has taken his place. Who is he?” the man asked, pushing his chin out toward Adam.

“He is my husband.”

“He is a white man,” said the man in disgust.

“He is also Shoshoni.”

The Aha macave man studied both of them then nodded to the other men, pushing Mike hard toward Adam, who caught her in his arms and held her. He pulled her behind him as he approached the Aha macave man.

“If you touch her again, I will kill you,” threatened Adam through clenched teeth, standing chest to chest with the Aha macave.

The Aha macave man looked impassively at Adam then looked over his shoulder at the other men. They all began to laugh. Adam flared his nostrils, and the man patted both of his shoulders. “Come brother. We will take you to our camp. You will eat and drink with us.”

Adam looked down at Mike who was smiling up at him proudly. They followed the Aha macave through the canyon to their camp, dodging an Army patrol on the way.