Sweet Savage Surrender (43 page)

“Would you like to live with me? Would you like to be my maid?” Gwen Ella asked gently.

Skyraven did not understand
what
“maid” meant, but she shook her head wearily. Yes. Anything was better than that big burly soldier. She didn’t want to be anyone’s woman. Besides, it didn’t matter. She
had
no intention of staying here among the people who had killed her own. As soon as she could get herself a horse, as soon as no one was looking, she was going to ride out of here, back to the place she had left Desert flower and her baby.

“All right then, come along with me.” Gwen Ella held out her hand in a gesture of friendship. “Don’t be afraid. We can become friends, you and I.”

Friends? Skyraven would never show the whites friendship again. Still, she said nothing and stood up, placed her moccasined foot on one of the wagon wheels, and holding on to the rim of the wagon bed, let herself down to the ground slowly.

"By what name are you called?  Gwen Ella asked her.  "My husband tells me you can speak English
fluently
.
  Will you tell me your name?"

"I am called Skyraven."  she s
a
id proudly ,without hesitation
, as the two of them walked.
along the graveled road toward the
long line of stone buildings.

“Skyraven.” Gwen Ella smiled.
"That is a very nice name
,
but now that you are here, perhaps we should give you another name such as Mary, Estelle or
Jenny.  A white woman's name."

"No!'  Skyraven looked absolutely shocked a
t such a thought.   "I do not
want a white woman's name.  I am Skyraven
,
gra
nd-daughter of the  Arapaho's
wicasa waken
.
”
  She drew herself up to her full heigh
t and proudly raised her head.

Gwen Ella could see that she had offe
nded the young Indian girl.   "O
h yes, of course."  She cleared her throat trying to recall Skyraven's words. 
You are the
grand-daughter of th
e ... the....."

"The wicasa w
aken, the Medic
ine man."  Skyraven explained.

" Y
es, yes. 
Skyraven.
To be sure.  If that is the n
ame you want to be called by, 
that is the way it will be.  I do not want us to argue or have misunderstandings so early in our relationship.  I so need another woman to talk to .  There are other women here
,
but most of  them are not officer's wives as I am.  Most of the officer's wives prefer to live close to
Fort
Weld
.  Many of the women here at
Fort
Lyon
are married to enlisted men and
live over there on
Suds Row." Gwen Ella point
ed to a group of run down wood
barracks at
the opposite end of the fort.

Skyraven looked in that direction. Little boxes just like she had been told about, but what did the woman mean exactly?
"I do not understand what is this "Suds Row?"

“Where the laundry is done.”

“Like at the river with soapweed.”

Gwen Ella chuckled.  She was expecting too much from the girl.  After all
,
they were from two different cultures.
“We do our laundry in tubs. It is quite tedious work.”

“Are we going there now to join the other women?”

Gwen Ella
looked horrified. “Join them? Oh no. The women are…are…” she didn’t know quite how to explain. “Oh, dear, there is so much to teach you. Where do I begin?” She let her breath out in a long sigh. “Of course you don’t understand,
but you will after you have been here awhile longer.  Let me explain as best I can for now."  She opened the door and gently guided
Skyraven in the opposite direction, then let her inside one of the stone buildings. “This is where I live.”

“Here?” Skyraven scanned the room but Gwen Ella didn’t seem to hear the surprise in the girl’s voice.

“
My husband is an officer and receives much money
, but those men receive but thir
teen dollars a month.  Most of them have never married because they cannot afford to
,
but those who
are
married must put their wives to work in the laundry here at the fort in order to make ends meet.  That is the re
ason their barracks are known a
"Suds Row
."

Skyraven
had lost all interested in Gwen Ella’s explanation.  When the white woman
looked at her  to see if she now unde
rstood the meaning of the term Suds Row
she
observed the girl looking all around her new surroundings. She had never been inside one of the white men’s confining boxes before and found she did not like it at all.

"Perhaps it is too early to talk to you about such things.  Come, Skyraven, I will show you around.
” She led her to the largest room.  “
This room we are
in is called the living room."
Noticing Skyraven's expression as
she looked toward the muslin-
covered couch
,
Gwen Ella walked over an
d
patted
its cushion.
"Would
you like to sit down upon it?"

Skyraven sat down  and bounced up and down several times but quickly got up again.
“
It is like a wild horse that must be tamed. "  She sat down upon the floor in front of the couch.  "In my lodge I sit like
this upon soft buffalo robes."

Because Skyraven could speak excellent English, Gwen Ella had assumed that she had been around many white people.  It was obvious to her now that she was wrong in her ass
umption. She would have to be
patient.

"I'll show you the kitchen and the bedrooms if you will follow me." 

Together they walked through the house from room to room.  It was
sparsely
furnished because Gwen Ella  had just recently arrived herself.  She had brought her trunks of clothing and her personal belongings with her as well as several well packed boxes of  china dishes and  crystal glassware that were never allowed out of her sight for very long.  They were her prized
possessions
.   Many of their furnishings would arrive later, on the Overland S
tage.

"Now this will be your room.  You will be my personal maid and my companion when my husband must be away for long periods of time.  You will sleep in that
bed,
in
this room and eat your
meals with us in the kitchen."

While Gwen Ella talked Skyraven's thou
ghts wandered.  She had to get out of here, but how? As they had walked along she had noticed that the
fort
was heavily guarded. Men with guns were everywhere. She must be careful. It would not do Desert Flower any good if she got herself shot.

“Do you think you will be comfortable here with me?” Gwen Ella was hopeful. She just didn’t want to find out the girl was unsuitable and have to give her up.

“I am not sure I would like being indoors so much of the time.” What would her grandfather think when she told him? She put her hand to her throat. How could she have forgotten? In all probability,
Buffalo
’s Brother was dead. The thought brought a mist of tears to her eyes. She would miss him so, and Desert flower and her 
little one
,
as well as others of her tribe.  She knew that Desert Flower and Big Bear had been spared but she still knew nothing of her grandfather's fate.  She could only hope that her grandfather had not been killed in the fighting
.
Oh, Grandfather!
She had not seen him at all during the commotion.   The only thing that she could remember was that he had been standing in front  of Black Kettle's lodge with him when she
looked back over the river.

"And now if you will come along with me, Skyraven,  I will show you where the privy is
,
and then you can carry some water for your bath.  You are badly in need of a bath.
You are badly in need of one." 

Skyraven knew it was so. 
No tribe of Indians were as clean in their personal habits as the Cheyenne and the Arapaho
, but now she felt dirty, grimy, and had a keen desire
to jump into some  clear creek water . 
It would be so good
to wash her body and her hair.

Skyraven just stood and watched as Gwen Ella stepped upon a stool, opened a small square door
,
and took down two large buckets and a wooden tub from the long narrow store room just off the kitchen.   She placed them on the
floor in front of Skyraven. 

"Now that you know where these are kept, Skyraven, you can get them down yourself when we need bath water."
Gwen Ella was a little fanatical in her zeal. She felt it was her place to lead the savages into a different way of life, to eventually guide them in the ways of the Lord.

Skyraven was confused. “Why do we not just go to the creek?” That would give her a chance to escape, she thought.

Although Gwen Ella was trying hard to be a good Christian, she was having some difficulty accepting Skyraven's strange ways and her silly questions.  She couldn't help looking at herself as the superior being. 
If only maids were not so hard to find out here in this godforsaken land. There were no white women to fill the job. Here there was but one woman to every hundred or so men, she judged. She had been told
by several of her traveling companions that even the ugly girls were quickly snatched up as wives for the miners and other men  in the district. The men didn't care what they looked like as long as they could cook and keep their bed warm. 
This one would just have to do.

"Because it would be indecent, my dear."  That was her only explanation.  "Henry had said this girl was a savage?  Was she, in spite of the way she could speak English?
Like many other people in the States, Gwen Ella had never even seen an Indian woman b
efore much less talk to one.
The fact that she could speak English had to be in her favor.  

"Indecent?"

"And we might
cat
ch
a chill
……” 
The  feelings  she was now experiencing  were  the consequence of long exposure to the talk  about the inferiority of the Indians
,
Gwen Ella  reminded herself.  Opinions were divided.  Even she and Henry did not see them in the same way.  Many of the people who talked about the Indians as if they were a
nimals had never been  in the  W
est.   After all, this girl was part white.  Certainly she would be less of a savage because of her white blood.   She deserved a chance. How proud she would be of her
self if she could help Skyraven
to see the evilness of the Indian culture an
d adopt  white man's ways.  

When Skyraven leaned over,
picked up the water buckets
as if trying to please, Gwen Ella’s fears
were laid to rest.  She looked so very sweet and innocent, not at all like a hostile.  She would clean her up and dress her like a white woman and see what would happen then.  
             
             

Chapter Forty-Five

Skyraven was used to heavy work
,
but making so many trips b
ack and forth from the laundry
on one side of the
f
ort,
to the officer's quarters
  on the other side, had taken a toll of her strength. 
White people were certainly strange, she thought. With all the water in the creek nearby, she had had to go back and forth, back and forth for water. Instead of going to where the water was to bathe, they made the water come to them. It seemed pointless and silly.
Now she was
tired. 
Nevertheless, she had completed her task
and now stood proudly before the lady who insisted she call her Gwen Ella
.

“Skyraven, you are back. That didn’t take you any time at all,” the woman said, eyeing her with relief, as if she had been afraid she might not return.

“Yes, I am back.” Wanting to rest, Skyraven sat down on the floor, but the woman motioned for her to stand back up.

“No, no there is more to do.”

Some of the water buckets Skyraven
had carried from the water storage barrels in the laundry room
were now
poured into a large oval shaped, copper boiler
which was now placed on top of the kitchen stove
. 
Gwen Ella lifted
one end, Skyraven the other.
Beneath it, a fire was lit, sending tiny orange-and-blue flames to lick at the boiler in fury.

“What…. are you doing
 
Cooking?” Skyraven asked. It was the only thing that made sense
,
for why else was water put on to boil?

“I’m readying your bath. When the water is hot, we’ll put it in the large wooden tub over there,” she pointed to it resting on the floor, “and then you can get inside.”

The idea was  terrifying to Skyraven. So, she had not escaped the white man’s cruelty after all. They had just found another form of torture for her. They were going to boil her alive. They were going to cook her! As soon as the woman’s back was turned, she fearfully slipped away, making a hasty retreat to her bedroom. Searching for a hiding place, she slid under the bed and lay on her stomach, as quiet as a mouse, hardly daring to breathe.

“Ah, that should do….”
When the water was boiling hot, using a large metal dipper, Gwen Ella  poured dipper after dipper full of hot water into the cold water in the wooden tub to bring it  to jus
t the right temperature. Testing it with her elbow,
she
decided it to be perfect.
             

"Now
,
Skyraven, you may take your clothes off and...... " She looked around
,
but Skyraven was nowhere
in sight.  "Skyraven.  Skyraven,
"  she called as she searched the house room by room.  "Where on earth could that girl have gone?"

The door was still locked so she must be somewhere in the house. Gwen Ella called again but Skyraven did not
answer
her. Then something led her to the bedroom, and the same intuition caused her to pick up the dust ruffle and lean
over to lo
ok under the bed.  Her  look of
astonishment  was met by Skyraven's terrified look of utter fear.

“No! No!”
Skyraven tried to wiggle out from beneath the bed away from Gwen Ella
,
but the bed was too close to the wall.  The only direction she could go was directly toward where Gwen Ella stood. 
She was trapped.

“Whatever is the matter, child?” Gwen Ella was completely
dumbfounded
. “I’m not
going
to harm you.”

“White men are cruel. I…I thought….” Skyraven was still not sure that she could trust this woman, though she had seemed kind. If the soldiers were so brutal what then of their women? The Ute women were often as violent as their men.

“Come on out of
there
this instant!” Gwen Ella decided to be firm with her. Even so, her voice held a tone of gentleness. “No one is going to hurt you.”

Skyraven
slowly crept out from beneath the bed .  There in the corner of the room like a cornered animal
,
she knelt on all fours looking up at the white woman and not knowing what to do
, which way to run. Her eyes searched for a weapon, yet she knew fighting was of little use.

Gwen Ella herself was filled with fear.  She
saw the direction of the Indian girl’s eyes. A decorative knife that her husband had taken as a trophy from the Indian wars adorned the bedroom wall, and it was there that the girl was looking. Gwen Ella did not know
why the Indian girl was acting in such a strange manner
, but she did remember her husband’s warning. The girl might have white blood but she was still an Indian.

The two women remained transfixed
,
sim
ply looking
at each other
,
neither say
ing anything or daring to move. Finally Gwen Ella dared to ask a question.
"Skyraven, what on earth is the mat
t
er?
Tell me. Please…..”

“I will not let you cook me!” She had seen the soldiers dismember the bodies of her people, including cutting off their ears
, fingers
and private parts.
Perhaps it was to eat them.

“Cook you?” S
he didn’t know whether to laugh or be angry. “I have no intention of doing that. How could you think such a thing?”

“Your people came into my camp bringing death. Why would I not think so?”

Gwen Ella remembered her husband saying that the girl’s people had had to be punished. “Well, I assure you I have no intention of having you for dinner.” She put her hands upon her hips. “Now, please get up
from that uncomfortable position and come into t
he kitchen to take your bath."

Skyraven shook her head from side to side to indic
ate that her answer was no, then thought for a moment.
"Yo
u are not going to cook me
?
  Do you give me your word?
"
And even if she did, would her word mean anything?  White men were liars and what they said didn’t mean a thing.

Gwen Ella had to stifle a chuckle when she found out what it was all  about. The girl was not dangerous after a
ll.  She was just frightened. 
"Oh my dear, of course not.  You will enjoy your bath .  The water is just nice and warm."
She felt the need to explain. “You see, we do not like the water cold. I have made it as if you were in your….uh…creek on a hot summer’s day.”

“Like taking a bath in summer?”

“Come with me and you will see.” As they 
walked together to the kitchen
Gwen Ella thought to herself, 
So far so good. I have crossed one hurdle but still have a long way to go
. 
“T
his is going to be quite a challenge
after all  but I will teach you
  to accept the white world and
the way we do things if its
the last thing I ever do
.”
 
Skyraven's actions had made
Gwen Ella even more determined.  The girl was too pretty to act like a silly savage.

Slowly Skyraven took off her garments, keeping her eyes on the white woman all the
while
. When Gwen Ella did nothing that appeared hostile, she relaxed a bit. Taking her finger, she thrust it in the water and was surprised to find it was comfortably warm. Skyraven put first one foot, then the other, into the tub, splashing around as she did when the women went wading in a pool, then slowly she lowered her body into the water.

“Mmmmm!” she leaned back in the tub and lathered herself with the sweet
smelling
soap Gwen Ella had provided. 
"This s
mells better than soapweed."

"I'm glad you like it.
I brought it with me from
Missouri
.  It is lilac."

“Lilac!” Skyraven smiled as she popped several bubbles on her shoulder. 
She was enjoying herself so much that she didn't want to get out of the tub when Gwen Ella  handed her the
big white  flannel  bath towel.  In rebellion, she sank down in the water to her shoulders, lifting first one leg, then the other to spread the sweet-smelling bubbles. She didn’t like the whites, but she did like this custom of theirs.

Gwen Ella felt triumphant. She had vaulted the first hurdle, but then what woman wasn’t won over by lilac perfume? “If you will get out of the tub we will pour this water out and put in some fresh water to wash your hair with. I have some lilac shampoo.”

Skyraven decided she would like to have some of
the bubbles put on her hair as well, so she complied and found it to be a pleasing experience, despite a slight sting of pain when she got some of the soap in her eyes. When all the washing was completed, Gwen Ella promised her yet another surprise.

“We’ll make your hair curly,” she said, “like mine.”

“But….I like my hair the way it is….”

“Nonsense!” the girl had beautiful, thick dark hair.
She
would
tie strips of  rags into Skyraven's damp  hair to curl it
, then she would look more like the other women in the fort.

After the rags were securely tied,  Gwen Ella helped Skyraven into the clothing she had earlier assembled for her
, cast off items that she had grown tired of. They wouldn’t be a perfect fit, but that could be altered with a few pins here and there, or a little sewing.

For the moment, Skyraven was able to
put
the horror of the massacre out of her mind. There
were
so many new things being shown to her that it became an adventure. She recalled now that w
hen she was a little girl she had gone to the trader's stores with her mother
. She
had admired the few women she had seen dressed in calico and gingham.   When she told John Hanlen about her earlier experiences he had given her a length of calico. 
And then John Hanlen had given her the length of blue calico. But she would never be able to use it to make any garments now. Like all her other possessions it
would
either have been taken by the soldiers or else burned when the village was set afire.

Suddenly the painful memories came flooding back and she put her hands to her face. She
could never forget that she had
looked up and seen him fighting with Lone Wolf right in the middle of the violence.
What kind of man knowingly led people to their slaughter?
“Why….?” She cried out.
 

“What, my dear?”

“Nothing!” Skyraven lifted her head. She would push the image from her mind lest she be consumed by her tears. With resolve, she tried, but she could not
erase John Hanlen’s name
from her memory
. What would he
think
, what would he do when he saw her here at the fort. Did he think that she would have been killed, that he would not have to face her, answer to her for what he had done? Well, he was wrong if he thought that. He would know the full fury of her wrath, this she promised.

“You will look so pretty when I am finished with you that all the men at the fort will stare,” Gwen Ella said.

“I do not want them to look. I hate white men!” Her answer was so vehement that Gwen Ella was taken aback.

“Nonsense. There are some very nice enlisted men here.” Her voice lowered conspiratorially. “And there are so few women you will have your choice.”

“I do not want my choice.” How could she even think of another man after what had happened? She should have married Lone Wolf. At least he fought for the village. He was one of her own kind. How could she have
been
so foolish as to ever give her heart to a white man? She should have listened to Lone wolf, shared his hatred of the whites. Instead, she
had
succumbed to pretty words. And yet the saddest thing of all was that she still loved him, even after what he had done.
 

Shaking her head to clear it of the image of John Hanlen which danced
before
her mind's eye, Skyraven pulled on the knee length, lace trimmed  muslin drawers that Gwen Ella handed her
, thinking how foolish the white women were to wear something so pretty that would not be seen. Even so, they felt smooth to her skin. She tied
the long strings  that circled her waist to keep them in place.   Next came the muslin shift, then the wool stockings held up by  round stretchable bands Gwen Ella  called garters.

“White women’s clothing is funny,” she
laughed as Gwen Ella held out a stiff, circular
-s
haped piece of material toward her explaining that it was a padded and h
orsehair
crinoline
with
whale bone
at its bottom
to make the skirt of the dress  stand out.  Skyraven  did not want to wear the hoop skirt nor the shoes with the high
hee
ls
and Gwen Ella did not insist
and fitted her instead with a soft flannel petticoat
.