Savage Tempest

He did not see Andrew and the way he was watching the joy of the people he was supposed to have hunted down and killed.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Joylynn had helped dig Blanket Woman’s cache pot, giving the two women time to bond. Blanket Woman had promised never to cause Joylynn any trouble again, and she believed her. She so badly wanted their future to be bright and warm; she wanted them to be a true family.

High Hawk’s scouts had been sent in various directions to look for buffalo and had returned with good news. Plenty of buffalo had been spotted on this new land, where no man had had a chance to kill them off.

Joylynn was riding proudly beside High Hawk as they set off for the hunt. The warriors planned to kill only as many buffalo as were needed to keep the Wolf band in meat for the duration of the winter.

Joylynn was proud to be a part of the hunt, even though she was not going to take part in the actual hunt, but would be an observer.

Yet some of the Pawnee women saw Joylynn’s mere presence during the hunt as taboo, fearing that she might bring their husbands, brothers and cousins trouble if she rode with them. Some thought that the mere sight and smell of her would warn the buffalo to flee.

Others thought Joylynn was courageous to do so many things that they had only seen men do. They had been told that Joylynn had been a rider for the Pony Express, which was also a male preserve.

Most of the women saw her as someone strong and courageous enough to be a chief’s wife, whose strength and stamina would cause her to bear their chief many strong sons.

“I’m so glad that you are letting me go with you today,” Joylynn said, drawing High Hawk’s eyes to her. “But I understand why you don’t want me to be an actual participant in the hunt, even though I hunted often with my father. He would let out a loud ‘whoopee’ when I downed an animal to put meat on our supper table.”

She swallowed hard. “I miss my father terribly,” she said. “Mama, too, but I had more of a relationship with my father than Mama.”

“Your ahte is looking down from the heavens even now, pride in his eyes that he has had a role in bringing up a strong and wonderful woman like you,” High Hawk said. “I am sure your ina is looking down at you, as well, with love.”

“I always wanted to make them proud,” Joylynn murmured. “And now I want the same for you. I don’t want to let you down, ever. You . . . are . . . my world.”

“You are my world, my woman, as well as my people’s,” High Hawk said. He looked quickly to the right when the sound of many horses’ hooves frightened quail from their roosting places.

“Quail make a good meal,” Joylynn said, having also seen the flight of the birds.

“Today we seek much larger animals, whose meat will last for the duration of the long winter,” High Hawk said, again looking ahead for signs of the buffalo that had been sighted by his scouts.

He knew they must be drawing near the her

d, for they had traveled half a day now.

“How are you feeling about Andrew?” Joylynn asked. “Do you still believe he is being truthful? Or do you think that all he says and does is a ploy to draw us into trusting him until he is well enough to travel back down the mountain?”

“I want to trust him. Certainly, Two Stars believes that he is sincere. They sit often and talk about their religions and the differences between their Gods,” High Hawk said, his long black hair blowing in the wind. “If Andrew is playing a game with my people’s religious leader, he will pay dearly in the end for his betrayal. For now, I will trust as Two Stars trusts.”

Joylynn scratched at her left arm, where wet clay and herbs had been rubbed into her flesh before leaving for the hunt. High Hawk had told her that the clay and sand served useful purposes on the hunt. Clay reduced the chances of being bitten by insects. The parakaha, a fragrant herb, prevented sunburn.

Joylynn was dressed in fringed breeches that had been loaned to her by a young brave of her size. She also wore that brave’s fringed shirt, while High Hawk and his warriors wore only breechclouts and moccasins. High Hawk’s hair was loose and flowing, while hers was worn in one long braid down her back.

All but Joylynn carried bows and quivers of arrows for the hunt. High Hawk had taught her that gunfire spooked the buffalo, causing them to stampede. High Hawk had told her how he had laughed when he saw the ignorance of white men using guns to hunt them.

Joylynn carried her rifle only for protection, should a buffalo come after her. She would have no choice but to shoot it, only then risking a stampede.

Since they rode in an area that was safe from whites interfering, the Pawnee carried their bows unstrung. Bowstrings made of braided sinew would stretch and weaken if kept continually under the great tension that was necessary during the hunt.

“When there was no need to hurry into a hunt as we are doing today, young boys would join us,” High Hawk said. “It is a good time for the young braves. They take their small bows and arrows and shoot at birds that flutter up from the grass. The young braves sometimes even take careful aim at butterflies darting before them.”

He chuckled as he continued to describe what he recalled so vividly in his mind’s eye. “When I was older, but yet not old enough to join the true hunt, I was among those who would gather to walk in a line abreast and drive out birds, rabbits and other small creatures to be killed. At day’s end, enough small game was taken back to the village to fill our mothers’ cook pots. The true hunters would come in later with the larger meat for their families.”

High Hawk paused and placed a hand above his eyes, slowly scanning the land on all sides of him; his warriors did the same.

Then he lowered his hand as Joylynn edged her steed closer to his. “What else are the buffalo used for besides food?” she asked, truly curious. She wanted to return to the village with as much knowledge as she could.

She had much to learn in order to be the best wife possible for this young Pawnee chief.