Savage Illusions - Page 82

Pemmican was ma­de of the flesh of the buf­fa­lo, the me­at ha­ving be­en dri­ed in the usu­al way, and for this use, only le­an me­at was cho­sen.

Two lar­ge fi­res had be­en al­lo­wed to burn down to red co­als. The wo­men threw the dri­ed she­ets of me­at on the co­als of the fi­re al­lo­wing it to he­at thro­ugh, tur­ning it of­ten to ke­ep it from bur­ning.

After a ti­me, the ro­as­ting of this dri­ed me­at ca­used a smo­ke to ri­se from the fi­re in use, which wo­uld ha­ve gi­ven the me­at a bit­ter tas­te, so the wo­men tur­ned to the ot­her fi­re and used that un­til the first one had bur­ned cle­ar aga­in.

After eno­ugh of the ro­as­ted me­at had be­en thrown on a fleshy pi­ece of hi­de ne­arby, it was fla­iled with sticks, and be­ing very brit­tle, was easily bro­ken up. This was con­s­tantly stir­red and po­un­ded un­til it was all fi­ne.

Meanwhile, the tal­low of the buf­fa­lo had be­en mel­ted in a lar­ge ket­tle, and the pem­mi­can bags pre­pa­red. The­se we­re ma­de of bull's hi­de and we­re in two pi­eces, which when sewn to­get­her ma­de a bag which wo­uld hold one hun­d­red po­unds.

The po­un­ded me­at and tal­low we­re put in a tro­ugh ma­de of bull's hi­de, a wo­oden spa­de be­ing used to stir the mix­tu­re. Af­ter it was tho­ro­ughly mi­xed, it was sho­ve­led in­to one of the sacks, held open, and ram­med down and pac­ked tight with a big stick, every ef­fort be­ing ma­de to ex­pel all the air.

When the bag was full and pac­ked as tight as pos­sib­le, it was sewn up. It was then put on the gro­und, and the wo­men jum­ped on it to ma­ke it still mo­re tight and so­lid.

Jolena was shown how a much fi­ner gra­de of pem­mi­can was ma­de from the cho­icest parts of the buf­fa­lo with mar­row fat. To this, dri­ed ber­ri­es and po­un­ded cho­ke-cher­ri­es we­re ad­ded, ma­king a de­li­ci­o­us fo­od which was ex­t­re­mely nut­ri­ti­o­us.

The pro­cess of pre­pa­ring the me­ats to­ok most of the day. Ex­ha­us­ted, Jole­na went to Spot­ted Eag­le's te­pee and grab­bed a blan­ket and went back out in­to the sha­dows of eve­ning, to­ward the ri­ver. When she got the­re, she ma­de su­re no one el­se was aro­und, then un­d­res­sed and do­ve in­to the wa­ter.

She swam and swam, ti­ring her­self even mo­re, kno­wing that this was ne­ces­sary for her to get to sle­ep, for she was res­t­less over thin­king of spen­ding the full night wit­ho­ut Spot­ted Eag­le the­re with her. Al­t­ho­ugh she was with her true pe­op­le, she was fe­eling ap­pre­hen­si­ve abo­ut be­ing alo­ne with them.

This was a go­od test, one that wo­uld pro­ve whet­her or not her de­ci­si­on to stay with the Blac­k­fo­ot was right.

Jolena pa­used and tre­aded wa­ter. She held her he­ad back and al­lo­wed her long ha­ir to drift in­to the wa­ter be­hind her as she sta­red up at the stars that we­re just be­gin­ning to fill the black vel­vet sky, the mo­on only a tiny, bent sli­ver of whi­te over­he­ad.

When the bre­eze brus­hed ac­ross Jole­na's fa­ce, she shi­ve­red and be­gan swim­ming back to­ward sho­re. Just as she was abo­ut to climb out of the wa­ter, she stop­ped and her bre­ath ca­ught in her thro­at when she dis­co­ve­red so­me­one stan­ding in the sha­dows wat­c­hing her.

Jolena slip­ped down in­to the wa­ter aga­in, ex­cept for her he­ad. With a po­un­ding he­art she ga­zed stub­bornly at the per­son in the sha­dows. "Who's the­re?" she as­ked, her vo­ice wary. "Show yo­ur­self, who­ever you are."

Brown Elk step­ped in­to vi­ew. He bent over and pic­ked up the blan­ket that Jole­na had left the­re for drying her­self, then wal­ked on to the em­ban­k­ment, hol­ding the blan­ket out for her.

"It is I, yo­ur fat­her," he sa­id. "When I did not find you in Spot­ted Eag­le's dwel­ling, I fe­ared you might ha­ve be­en fo­olish eno­ugh to co­me to the ri­ver alo­ne for a bath. And I see I was right. Da­ug­h­ter, do you not know the dan­gers of such fo­olish no­ti­ons as this?"

Jolena sig­hed with re­li­ef, un­der­s­tan­ding now that she sho­uldn't ha­ve co­me alo­ne to the ri­ver, es­pe­ci­al­ly at night. So­me­one be­si­des her fat­her might ha­ve be­en wat­c­hing for her to le­ave the wa­ter. "I was too res­t­less by the fi­re, alo­ne," she mur­mu­red. When he held the blan­ket out far­t­her, so that she co­uld re­ach it, she to­ok it and step­ped qu­ickly out of the wa­ter and wrap­ped her­self in it.

"Did you not know that I was just as alo­ne?" Brown Elk sa­id, his vo­ice fil­led with a sad we­ari­ness. "You co­uld ha­ve co­me and fil­led this old man's he­art with yo­ur com­pany, in­s­te­ad of the ri­ver's."

"I'm sorry," Jole­na mur­mu­red. "I wasn't thin­king cle­arly, Fat­her. I sho­uld ha­ve co­me and spent the eve­ning with you. I shall even now, if you will ha­ve me."

She was awash with gu­ilt that she had be­en thin­king only of her­self and her own lo­ne­li­ness, when she sho­uld ha­ve re­ali­zed how aban­do­ned her true fat­her was fe­eling. Not only had she left his dwel­ling to li­ve with Spot­ted Eag­le, Mo­on Flo­wer had al­so be­en qu­ick to le­ave him af­ter he had so ge­ne­ro­usly ope­ned his he­art and arms to her, in­vi­ting her to stay with him when her pa­rents had ba­nis­hed her from the­ir li­ves.

"My dwel­ling is yo­urs whe­ne­ver you wish to be a part of it," Brown Elk sa­id. "Espe­ci­al­ly to­night."

After she was dri­ed eno­ugh, Jole­na ac­cep­ted the clot­hes that her fat­her pic­ked up from the gro­und. She mo­ved be­hind a tree and dres­sed whi­le he wa­ited for her. Then, fe­eling much bet­ter, she went with Brown Elk to his lod­ge and enj­oyed sha­ring a bowl of so

­up with him whi­le they la­ug­hed and tal­ked.

Then the­re was a so­und out­si­de the te­pee. Both tur­ned the­ir eyes as the en­t­ran­ce flap was sho­ved asi­de.

Jolena and her fat­her gas­ped when Mo­on Flo­wer en­te­red the te­pee, her eyes dow­n­cast.

Jolena's eyes shif­ted when Spot­ted Eag­le ca­me in be­hind Mo­on Flo­wer. She mo­ved qu­ickly to her fe­et as Brown Elk shuf­fled to his. Jole­na went to Spot­ted Eag­le and sto­od at his si­de, her eyes on Mo­on Flo­wer as Brown Elk em­b­ra­ced her and wel­co­med her to his dwel­ling.

Then Brown Elk step­ped away from her and held her hands. "Why do you re­turn?" he as­ked, his dark eyes se­e­ing much sad­ness in Mo­on Flo­wer's as she slowly lo­oked up at him.

"I co­uld not do it," she sa­id, te­ars stre­aming down her che­eks. "I lo­ved him too much to de­ce­ive him. I… told him abo­ut the child. He… tur­ned his eyes away from me and did not lo­ok back. He al­so ba­nis­hed me from his li­fe."

Jolena was not cer­ta­in how she felt abo­ut Kirk ha­ving do­ne this to Mo­on Flo­wer, but she knew for cer­ta­in how she felt abo­ut Mo­on Flo­wer­s­he ad­mi­red her for her bra­very and ho­nesty!

From the be­gin­ning, af­ter ha­ving be­co­me ac­qu­a­in­ted with Mo­on Flo­wer, Jole­na wo­uld ne­ver ha­ve tho­ught her ca­pab­le of car­rying out such a de­ce­it.

Tags: Cassie Edwards Romance
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