Wild Rapture

And then the silence was broken by a sound behind Echohawk. He turned with a start and found himself looking up at Chief Silver Wing.

“My son, I have come to urge you to join the other braves around the council fire in my lodge,” Chief Silver Wing said, placing a solid hand on Echohawk’s shoulder. “We have much to discuss and you have an integral role in the discussions. Place all sadnesses from your heart and mingle with your people again. You cannot forget that you are now the leader of your band of Chippewa. They await your guidance. Come. Show them that you are now ready to be their leader again.”

Echohawk moved slowly to his feet and faced Chief Silver Wing with a humility never known to him before. In the elder chief’s presence, more and more, Echohawk felt as though he were once again with his father. This chief’s heart and thoughts were so much in tune with his father’s, it seemed—even including his paternal love of Echohawk.

“It is because of my people that I come to commune with my father,” Echohawk finally said. “In life he guided me. Even though he is dead, I still await a vision that he might send to me from the Land of the Hereafter.”

He swallowed hard, then clasped a hand onto Chief Silver Wing’s shoulder. “But I now see that it was not necessary to escape here each day, when it was you I could share my thoughts and sorrows with,” he said humbly. “And my gee-bah-bah would want that.”

“Ay-uh, my son, he would want that,” Chief Silver Wing said thickly. He stepped closer to Echohawk, then quickly embraced him. “Soon you will see the good in life again, if you will just allow it to happen. The woman. You will soon forget the woman.”

Echohawk relished the embrace, closing his eyes; pretending it was his father, then stiffened at the mention of “the woman,” knowing to whom Chief Silver Wing was referring.

No-din.

She was on everyone’s mind, it seemed.

He eased from the elder chief’s embrace and peered at him through the eyeglasses, finding that each day his eyes were improving, if only slightly. “You have asked me more than once why I called her an enemy,” he said, his voice drawn. “Until now I could not tell you.

The anger within my heart was too intense to allow me to discuss her.”

“But now?” Chief Silver Wing said, folding his arms casually across his chest. “You wish to speak of her now?”

“Ay-uh, perhaps it is best,” Echohawk said, turning to view the darkening meadow below him, aching inside when he recalled having ridden across that meadow beside No-din, a happiness so keen within him he had feared it would not be everlasting.

And he had been right.

Nothing seemed everlasting for the Chippewa.

Nothing!

“Then I will listen,” Chief Silver Wing said, taking a noble stance beside Echohawk.

“I trusted No-din,” Echohawk gritted out through clenched teeth. “I even gave her my total love!” He turned to Chief Silver Wing. “Though she is not aware of it, I took her as my wife after she shared a feast with me and then my bed. And all along, this woman that I poured out my heart and soul to was guilty of having been a part of the raid that took my father from me!”

Chief Silver Wing’s eyes wavered. “She was a part of the raid?” he gasped.

“You saw how I spread ash on her face?” Echohawk said, his voice softening. “It was to see if her face then matched that of the young lad who rode with those who ravaged our village.”

“And it did?” Chief Silver Wing said, his voice showing the strain of the discovery. He kneaded his chin and looked down at the meadow, nodding. “It makes sense now—the way she was dressed when she arrived at our village. And the short hair . . .”

“The way she was dressed when she arrived?” Echohawk said, turning questioning eyes to the chief. “How was she dressed?”

“No one told you?” Chief Silver Wing asked, dropping his hands to his sides.

“I am sure that no one saw the need,” Echohawk said, his eyes narrowing. “Tell me. How was she dressed?”

“In clothes worn by white men,” Chief Silver Wing said solemnly, now recalling Nee-kah’s dismay when she discovered that No-din was a girl, not a boy. For a moment he could see the humor in it again and chuckled low. “When Nee-kah saw her undressed and saw her breasts, it gave her quite a fright. She thought it was a boy with breasts.”

Then his brow furrowed into a deep frown. “You say she was among those who raided your village?” he grumbled.

“Ay-uh,” Echohawk grumbled back.

“Let us talk more before returning to the council meeting,” Chief Silver Wing said, needing to sort out within his mind the reasoning behind all of No-din’s actions. He had seen her as something special—a woman with pride and spirit—but never a woman of deceit!

“Come with me to lower ground,” Chief Silver Wing encouraged him. “Let me get my pipe from my horse. We will share a smoke while we discuss the ‘Woman of the Wind.’”

Echohawk nodded and left the butte with Chief Silver Wing. When they reached their grazing horses, Echohawk took a blanket from his saddlebag and spread it on the ground, then watched Chief Silver Wing’s slow, dignified gait as he went to his horse and removed his long-stemmed pipe from a buckskin bag. It was evident to Echohawk that Silver Wing had planned this meeting of minds between just the two of them, for he had brought not only a pipe but also a pouch of tobacco and a case fashioned from stone that carried within its confines a heated coal with which to light the pipe.