White Eagle's Touch

Dedication

For my daughter, Trina, my inspiration and the artist behind all of my maps. For Heather Cullman, an extremely talented writer and a treasured friend. And for my husband, Paul, my very own White Eagle.

Note to the Reader

This note appears in my first book on the Blackfoot Warrior series. It is repeated here, with a few further definitions added, so as to bring a better understanding to the work and to define certain words which might otherwise be hard to find.

At the time this story takes place, there were three different tribes of Indians that together, comprised the Blackfeet or Blackfoot Nation: the Piegan, or Pikuni—their name in the Blackfoot language; the Blood or Kainah and the Blackfoot proper or Siksika.

The Piegan, which is pronounced Pay-gan, were also divided into the Northern and Southern bands.

All three of these tribes were independent, and were known by the early trappers by their own individual tribal names. But because the three shared the same language, intermarried and went to war with the same enemies, it became more common, as time went on, to call these people under one name, the Blackfeet or Siksikauw.

At this time, the time of my story, the names, “Blackfoot” and “Blackfeet,” were used interchangeably, meaning one and the same groups of people.

However, during reservation days (the story goes, as I was told it), the U.S. government utilized a misnomer, calling the tribe of the Southern Piegan, or Pikuni, the “Blackfeet.” This designation stuck and to this day, this tribe resides in Northern Montana on the Blackfeet reservation, and are referred to, by the government, as the “Blackfeet” (although they are really the Southern Piegan or Pikuni).

Consequently, when we speak today of the Blackfoot tribes, or the Siksika Nation as a whole, we talk of four different tribes: the Blackfoot, Blood and Piegan bands in Canada and the Blackfeet in Montana. Thus, today when referring to the “Blackfeet,” one is speaking of the band of Indians in Montana (the Blackfeet reservation), whereas the name “Blackfoot” refers to the band of Indians in Alberta, Canada.

If this seems confusing to you, I can assure you, it baffled me.

Thus, in my story, because the Blackfeet and Blackfoot names were interchangeable at this moment in history, I have used “Blackfeet” as a noun (I went to visit the Blackfeet), and the “Blackfoot” as an adjective (I went to Blackfoot country). I did this for no other reason than consistency.

I am also including some definitions of common Indian words, which might be unfamiliar to the reader, which I hope will help toward further understanding.

Algonquin—“member of a group of Indian tribes formerly of the Ottawa River valley in SE Canada. Also, Algonquia—Widespread American-Indian language family spoken from Labrador westward to the Rockies and southward to Illinois and North Carolina.”

The Scribner-Bantam English Dictionary, 1977
. Some of the tribes which spoke this language were the Cheyenne, Blackfeet, Arapaho, Shawnee and Ottawa.

Assiniboin Indians—a tribe of Indians whose territory bordered the Blackfeet on the east. These Indians were at war with the Blackfeet.

The Backbone of the World—term used by the Blackfeet to indicate the Rocky Mountains.

Coup—a term used widespread by the Indians to mean a deed of valor.

Cree—a tribe of Indians closely associated with the Assiniboin, whose territory bordered the Blackfeet on the east.

Crow—a tribe of Indians that inhabited that part of the northern United States, around the upper Yellowstone River. They were at war with the Blackfeet.

Gros Ventre—a tribe of Indians that neighbored the Blackfeet.

Kit Fox Society—all Indian tribes had different societies for men and for women. They denoted different social strata. Prince Maximilian, who visited Blackfoot country in the early 1830s, was probably the first white man to observe the different Blackfoot societies. He noted that there were seven of these societies and that each of them had its own dances and songs, as well as its own regalia.

Medicine—described by George Catlin in his book
Letters and Notes on the Manners, Customs, and Conditions of North American Indians,
“‘Medicine’ is a great word in this country;…The word medicine, in its common acceptation here, means
mystery,
and nothing else; and in that sense I
shall
use it very frequently in my Notes and Indian Manners and Customs. The Fur Traders in this country, are nearly all French; and in their language, a doctor or physician, is called
‘Medecin.’
The Indian country is full of doctors; and as they are all magicians, and skilled, or profess to be skilled, in many mysteries, the word ‘medecin’ has become habitually applied to every thing mysterious or unaccountable;…”

More-than-friend—in most Indian tribes, a more-than-friend refers to friends of the same gender who have made a pact to fight together and hunt together, etc. in an effort to increase both persons’ potential to survive. Such was a friend, but more. It was expected that if one of them had troubles, so, too, did the other take on those troubles as his own, helping to find solutions.

Parfleche—a bag fashioned out of buffalo hide and used by the Indians to store clothing, food and other articles. An Indian used parfleches much as the white man uses a chest of drawers. They were often highly decorated, and some were sewn in patterns “owned” by a particular family, thus easily recognized.

Sits-beside-him-woman or -wife—in Indian tribes that practiced polygamy, this referred to the favored wife, usually the first wife.

She directed all the other wives and had the right to sit next to her husband at important meetings.

Snakes—this refers to the Shoshoni or Snake Indians. They bordered the Blackfeet on the south and west and were traditional enemies of the Blackfeet.

They live in a country well-stocked with buffaloes and wild horses, which furnish them an excellent and easy living; their atmosphere is pure, which produces good health and long life; and they are the most independent and the happiest races of Indians I have met with: they are all entirely in a state of primitive wildness, and consequently are picturesque and handsome, almost beyond description. Nothing in the world, of its kind, can possibly surpass in beauty and grace, some of their games and amusements—their gambols and parades…

—George Catlin

Letters and Notes on the Manners, Customs, and Conditions of the North American Indians, 1832

Chapter One

Spring 1832

New York City

“This is outrageous!”

Katrina Wellington sat forward, her shoulders squared, her chin tilted up at an angle. Ringlets of golden blond hair framed her face and fell to her shoulders from beneath a capote-styled silk bonnet, while her dark, onyx-colored eyes spat fire at the man who sat across the desk from her. In one gloved hand, she tightly gripped a pink-and-white parasol, while her other hand lay clenched in a ball in her lap.

“Has the man lost all sense?” She asked the question of her solicitor, a Mr. Benjamin Lloyd. A staunch and bespectacled New York lawyer, he had been her counsellor and advisor most of her life.

To say that Katrina was upset would have been the height of understatement. It would not have done the lady, or her emotions, full justice.

“Benjamin?” she prompted when her solicitor did nothing more than clear his throat. “Did your people actually contact my uncle?”

The man looked at her from over the top of gold-rimmed glasses. “Miss Wellington, I—”

“Miss Wellington? Since when have you taken to calling me Miss Wellington, Benjamin? Unless this thing is even worse than it appears…”

Benjamin Lloyd frowned and, taking a deep breath, exhaled slowly, before he said, “Excuse me, Katrina, I did not mean to insult you, and yes, this thing is just as bad as it seems. The man that I sent out West did meet with your uncle and…it would appear that your uncle is in possession of all his faculties. I know this ruins your plans. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? Is that all you have to say to me?”

“Katrina, I—”

“I have paid you an exorbitant fee to find my uncle and obtain his signature on this mere wisp of legal paper and, not only has this not been done, but your condolences are the most that you can offer me?”

“Katrina…Katrina, please understand. You are not yet twenty-five. Legally, your uncle still has guardianship over you and he—”

“—Has not even seen me for fourteen years. Isn’t a guardian supposed to take a more active role in the life of his ‘ward’? He has waived responsibility for me, and I will not allow him to put any conditions on my life or my possessions now.”

“Katrina, it is not as though you are asking permission to go to an opera. You are asking for the entirety of your inheritance
and
your mother’s dowry long before it’s due. It is to be assumed that your uncle might put some stipulations upon such a request.”

“Humph!” She tapped her umbrella against the office’s wooden floor.

“Why is my uncle suddenly having an attack of conscience? I think you overstate his case, Benjamin. Does your loyalty waver, perchance?”

“It has nothing to do with loyalty, Katrina, and you know it. This is the law. Whether I like it or not, has nothing to do with this. Your uncle has a right to—”

“Has a right?” Katrina leapt to her feet. Benjamin Lloyd followed her up onto his, the man’s slight stature detracting from, rather than adding to, the strength of his argument. At five-foot-five, the lawyer’s eyes were just level with hers. “Has a right?” Katrina repeated. “Do you think so? What does the law say about my uncle’s abandonment of me? About desertion?”

“Katrina, you know that your uncle did not truly desert you.”

“Didn’t he? I have not seen him for fourteen years. What is that, if not abandonment? Or are you speaking of the succession of nannies and governesses, the multitude of servants he hired?”

“Katrina!”

She puckered up her face and leaned forward. “This can’t be truly legal.”

“It most certainly is.” Benjamin Lloyd slapped his hand on his desk.

“Benjamin, don’t you talk to me this way.”

“Then start speaking sense.”

Katrina blew out her breath, shaking her head at the same time. “I am, I… Does my uncle hate me so greatly?”

“Hate you? Cease this sort of talk at once. I’m sure that isn’t the reason—”

“He must,” Katrina insisted, her chin hiking up into the air. “I have always suspected it to be so.

Why else would he never visit me, never write to me, never…?” She stopped, her glance falling away from Benjamin’s before she continued. “Do you know that when I was a child, I used to write to him? I used to think of him as something of a knight. Did you know that, Benjamin? I used to dream of him coming to get me here; I used to envision…” Katrina glanced away into a corner of the room. It was some moments before she spoke again, saying, “But that was all so long ago, wasn’t it?”

“Katrina, I didn’t know that—”

“How could you?” She sighed. “He wants me to go there, you say? He is demanding that I travel out West and meet with him, if I desire my inheritance?”

“Yes, he—”

“And he would provide my transportation there?”

“Yes, he—”

“I know of no reputable coaches that travel that far.”

“You are right,” Benjamin Lloyd was quick to note, “but I have looked into this, and I could make travel arrangements that would be quite comfortable for you. Firstly, I could hire a private coach that would carry you all the way to St. Louis. I would ensure your comfort and your safety, that is, if you decide to make the trip.”

“If
I decide? I thought I had to—”

“You don’t have to go, Katrina.”

“But didn’t you just say that—?”

“You wouldn’t have access to your dowry, of course, nor to the whole of your inheritance, until you are twenty-five, the age your father set down in his will as the time to receive the remainder of your legacy.”