Jubal Sackett (1985) (28 page)

For a long moment I stood and looked out over the land, my breath a white cloud. Hunching my shoulders against the snow I looked carefully around. There were no enemies I could see, and no moving game, only the snow, the ice, and the cold. I broke off a heavy branch, the sound like a pistol shot, and then another, bringing them back to the hungry fire, waging its own desperate fight against the chill.

This was a land for me, these mountains, this forest, these silent streams, their voices stilled only for the time.

Keokotah came out and stood beside me. "Is good," he said, "all this."

"It is," I agreed.

"When grass comes, what you do?"

"I shall walk along the mountain where the aspen grows, and beside the lakes where the moon goes to rest. I want to find the places where the rivers begin. I want to drink where the water comes from under the slide rock. I want to walk the way of the elk, the deer, and the bear."

"You are not elk or deer or bear. You man. What you do when your knees are stiff? When the earth no longer soft for sleeping? When the cold does not leave your bones? Who will share your lodge when the last leaves fall?"

Wind breathed among the trees. Some snow fell from the stiff leaves of an oak and from the spruce.

"What of Itchakomi? Such a woman walks with the wind. Such a woman must be fought for or stolen."

"She will go home to her people. She may be the Great Sun."

"Hah! You think she go back safe? You think she pass by the Conejero? The Pawnee? The Osage? She will be taken to some warrior's lodge. You see."

"So?" The thought made me uncomfortable, but I did not like to say so, or even think of it.

"You speak, she stay. I tell you this."

"It is not possible."

He shrugged. "I think you fool. Once in a lifetime a man finds such a woman. Once! I have watched her with you. She will keep your lodge if you speak."

"She is curious about our customs, as you are. She is not interested in me."

"Hah!"

A veil of snow lifted from a peak and hung suspended against the gray sky, and then sifted softly away as though it had not been. A chill wind stirred, and frozen leaves scraped against the stiff branches. Snow drifted down from the trees and I shivered.

"You my friend. I speak as friend." For a moment he was silent. "I have no other friend."

Neither of us spoke for a long time and then I said, "And what of you?"

"I have a man to kill, if you do not."

"What?"

"He is out there. He looks for us. He looks forher . If we do not find him first, he will find us. It is better to hunt than be hunted."

A chaos of granite lay at the foot of the mountain, covered now with snow. Lightning-struck trees showed their stark dead stumps against the sky. My toes were cold from standing, and I half turned to go. He looked at me coolly, waiting for some word from me.

Curling my toes against the cold, I shrugged my shoulders under the buffalo robe, seeing a dream slide away down the icy hill, and another born.

"Maybe you are right," I said. "Maybe I am a fool."

"He leave his mark. He leave his challenge."

Turning toward our lodge I looked back. "What do you mean?"

"The young Natchee who was killed. He no dead when scalp taken. He alive."

I still looked at him, waiting.

"He know who kill him. He leave a sign in the snow where he die. He leave one sign."

Everything in me waited. I knew before he said it. I knew what the sign would be and that when Keokotah spoke I must begin to seek, to hunt. And I did not want to hunt down any man.

"He left one sign:Kapata !"

Kapata? Well, I could make an exception.

Chapter
Twenty-Six.

I am Itchakomi Ishia, a Daughter of the Sun, sent to find a new home for my people. This land is a good land. There is beauty here and much wild game, but there are enemies, also. The Conejeros are a fierce people, making war upon everybody. They would make war upon us.

We could defeat them, but many of our young men would die.

The Ni'kwana has sent this man to find me, to speak to me of returning. He has done so. But he says the Ni'kwana left it to me to decide, and the Ni'kwana has been my guide and teacher.

Why did he send this man to me? Why did he not say, "Come back, Itchakomi, come back to your land by the river"?

He left the decision to me. Why did he think I might not wish to return?

The Ni'kwana traveled far to meet this man, and then sent him to find me. What did the Ni'kwana know that I do not?

The Ni'kwana fears for me. He does not like or trust Kapata, and the Ni'kwana knows many things others do not.

Who is this man Jubal? What does he believe? What am I to believe? He speaks of marvels, of customs strange to us, of peoples far away of whom I know nothing.

Why have I not known of these people? He speaks of us asIndians . I do not know that name. The Ni'kwana has spoken of Spanishmen who came long ago, who killed some of our people and then went away down the Great River. We heard of such Spanishmen out upon the long grass, also, and one of them who ran away lived in our lodges for a time.

I do not know this man or his people. I do not know his tribe or where his home is. Jubal speaks of great houses in some land beyond the sea, of customs strange to us, but how can I believe him?

A sea is a great water. It is not a river. It must be like the great water we saw when long ago we traveled south with the Ni'kwana.

What manner of man is he? Will he walk among us for a time and then go away to his own people? I have heard men speak of his tribe. He is a Sackett. I am Natchez.

He says he is not a Sun. His father was a yeoman, but I do not know what that is. It is a good thing to be, I think.

He is a warrior and a hunter. Keokotah says he is very brave, that he fears nothing. I think it is good to fear some things.

He speaks of things strange to me, but I like to hear him speak. I listen and try to understand, but his words are not ours. I have learned much of his tongue but not of his meanings. To know words is not always to know thoughts. He speaks from his custom, I from mine. When I use his words I cannot speak the ideas I think. I do not make myself known.

He is a wise man, I believe, a Ni'kwana among his own people.

I am a Sun. What is my duty? To return to my people or to stay with this man who does not seek to know me?

I am a beautiful woman. I know this because I have seen myself in the Pool of the Moon's Reflection. Does he not see that I am beautiful?

Or is it that I am so different from the women of his people? Why does he avoid me? Am I not to his liking? Am I a bad taste in his mouth? A bad sound in his ears? What am I, a woman, to do?

He speaks of the Shining Mountains, and when he speaks of them his voice has a ring to it. The mountains were a far land of which he dreamed, and now he is among them, yet he has seen too little, he says. He wishes to wander down the days, through their forest and meadows and along their streams, but has it not always been so, that men prefer to wander and women to keep them close?

I could wander the far lands, too. I am not afraid.

He has terrible scars upon his head and upon his back and shoulders. I have seen his head when his hair falls a certain way, and I have seen his back when he bathed. He does not speak of the scars. He limps a little and has broken his leg. Keokotah spoke of that. He broke his leg when alone in the forest.

I am a Sun. Among my people I command men. Among my people I could choose whomever I wished, but he is not of my people and does not understand our ways, although he listens when I speak.

He does not know me. Should I return then to my own people? Should I leave him among his mountains and go back to my home beside the Great River?

I have walked beside him through the snow. I have helped to skin the buffalo he killed. Does he not see that I am a fit companion for him?

Keokotah has taken a woman. She is happy with him, but Keokotah also speaks of the far mountains. He is a Kickapoo and they are great wanderers. Are the Sacketts wanderers, too? The Natchee are not.

Kapata hunts for me. He has killed Atasha, who was a young warrior, although brave. Kapata has taken his hair, although they grew up together.

Kapata is fierce and strong, yet I do not fear him. If he tries to take me I shall kill him. I know the ways and he does not. There are ways secret to the Suns and known to no other.

Kapata does not understand the Natchee. He does not wish to understand. He has hatred for us because we have contempt for his mother's people, who are Eaters of Men.

I will go back. When the grass grows green again and the trees have buds. I shall go to my home beside the Great River. If Jubal Sackett does not see me I will take myself from his sight.

Why did the Ni'kwana send him? The Ni'kwana who knows all and sees all?

Thus I have been thinking. I have no one to whom I can speak. I am a Sun and we speak our thoughts only among ourselves. If I spoke to the other women here they would be ashamed for me.

It has been said here that I might become the Great Sun. This is against the tradition of our people, although sometimes when a Great Sun was very young a woman has ruled. If I returned now this might be the way of it, but when I look upon Jubal I do not wish to go back, and I think the Ni'kwana knew this would be so.

Among the Stinkards at this time there are few strong young men. Many have been killed in recent fighting with the Creeks, who were once our friends. Is it that the Ni'kwana wishes for my happiness? But Jubal does not see me. He will go away when the grass turns green and let me return to my village.

I do not know how I could become a bride here. I could teach him our way. He could fasten the oak leaves in his hair and I could carry the laurel. The people who are with me would know what to do, but he does not see me and I am alone.

I am a Sun, and I have pride. I cannot be humble with this man, nor do I believe he wishes it.

I cannot go to the women and tell them my thoughts, for I am a Sun. If he does not want me, why should I want him?

I should not, but I do.

He is the man for me, and I think the Ni'kwana saw this. I think it was in his mind. It was his duty to tell me I should return, but it was in his heart that I should find happiness. How could he know this was the man? Could he have foreseen it? The Ni'kwana often sees things before they happen, but perhaps he did not see it until he spoke with Jubal beside the fire.

It is hard to be a Sun. If I were a village girl it would not matter, but I have been taught from a time when very small what it is to be a Sun, but now I find it very lonely.

Jubal is a good man. I am no foolish girl to be taken by broad shoulders and a bold way. He is a quiet man, a thoughtful man, and he has been a good leader. He has guided us well. He must come of a strong people if such a one is only a yeoman and not a great lord. He has wisdom and judgment. He plans well, and when he hunts he hunts for others, as a warrior should.

I have watched him do what is needed. He wastes no time yet is never hurried. He limps but he does not complain. He is sure that each of us eats before he takes meat for himself. He stands aside when I enter the lodge, which is what a warrior must do for a Sun, but he stands aside for other women as well.

I have tried to learn his tongue. At first we had only some words of Cherokee, a few of his tongue, and a few of French or Spanish. Each tried to make the other understand with what words we had, and we did so. Now I speak his tongue much better, as does Keokotah, who knew English from before but had not used it for some time. I speak well now, but for some things I do not have words, and for some things there seem to be no English words.

I am alone and I am bitterly unhappy. I am a Sun and cannot show how I feel. I am afraid for spring to come, for he will go far away and there will be nothing but to return to my people. I love my people and have duty to them, but I love this man also.

The Ni'kwana can lead them until there is a Great Sun. They would need me but for a short time, and then I would be alone and have no man.

I have tried to let him see that I would be a good woman for him. I have walked with him in the snow. I have stood beside him when there was trouble. I am not a frightened woman. We Suns are taught to be strong and know no other way. We are taught not to fear what must be done and that each Sun is an example to all others of what a Sun is and must be.

When the snow began to melt I was like a frightened girl, for I thought he would go from me. So when the cold came again I was glad. Now I do not know how long the cold will last. Keokotah knows much of these things and says it soon will grow warm and leaves will bud again, and the ice will go from the streams and come into my blood, for he will go from me then and I shall be alone.

My heart is heavy with longing for what I do not have, yet I cannot show it for I am a Sun. I must be aloof, and hide my fears and my loneliness.

I will make myself more beautiful. I will make him see me.