Wild Rapture

Mariah fell to her knees beside the basin of water, bent over it, and splashed some onto her face. When Nee-kah offered her a cloth and a scented bar of soap, Mariah looked up at her questioningly. “The soap,” she said. “It is perfumed.” She looked then at a comb that Nee-kah had removed from a birchbark case. “And you even have a comb. I would have never guessed that you would have such luxuries as these.”

Nee-kah knelt beside Mariah, proudly clasping the comb. “Ay-uh, Nee-kah has both perfumed soap and a comb,” she said, her eyes dancing. “My chieftain husband acquired these for me at Fort Snelling after he heard that I was carrying his child.” She glanced down at her comb, then back at Mariah. “I consider both things my most cherished possessions.”

“And you are sharing them with me?” Mariah said, touched by Nee-kah’s continued generosity and show of friendship.

“Friends share many things,” Nee-kah said, laying aside her comb. “Now let this friend scrub the rest of the mud from your face and wash your hair.” She frowned as she gazed at Mariah’s short-cropped hair. “You father should be ashamed for forcing you to wear your hair in such a fashion. It would please Nee-kah so much to be able to braid your hair and wrap it in long rolls of otter fur, to make you even prettier for my people to see.”

“It will take many months for my hair to grow long enough for braiding,” Mariah sighed, then bent lower over the basin as Nee-kah busied her fingers smoothing the soap across Mariah’s hair, then washing it vigorously. “I know that I will grow impatient while waiting, for I was so proud of my long hair. While Father was cutting it, it was as though a part of my heart was being torn away.”

“If you wish, I will help you pass the time required for your hair to grow.” Nee-kah said anxiously. “It is wonderful that you proved to be a woman! We can do so much together!” She paused and leaned her face down close to Mariah’s. “And we can talk about so many things. I love to talk. Do you? How many words do you know in the Chippewa language? I can teach you so many more!”

Mariah laughed softly, finding Nee-kah so refreshing, and such a joy to be around. Mariah had been denied any female relationships since her mother’s death. Her father had been determined to turn her totally into a man.

“I know some Chippewa words,” Mariah said, wrapping a towel around her hair, rubbing it briskly. “It would be so nice to be taught more.” Her eyes wavered as she wondered just how long she could delay leaving.

She placed the towel aside and quickly washed the rest of herself, then was glad to finally be able to put on the dress. She ran her hands down the full length of the buckskin garment, having never felt anything as soft, as comforting, to a body that had become so used to coarse fabrics.

Nee-kah stepped away from Mariah and gazed with parted lips at her. “You are most mee-kah-wah-diz-ee, which means ‘beautiful,’” she said, sighing. “The mud had hidden your better qualities beneath it. But not so much that I was unable to know that you were too pretty to be a boy.”

Mariah smiled at Nee-kah, enjoying feeling feminine again. She had ached to wear a dress for so long, and to have someone compliment her, instead of having those sidelong glances from men who were surely thinking that she was one of those boys that preferred boys over girls.

Nee-kah went to Mariah with a buckskin pouch. “Hold this,” she said, thrusting the pouch into Mariah’s hand. “It contains a mixture of herbs and bark that I will rub into your hair. It will give your hair luster, strength, and life. Hopefully, it will even encourage it to grow much faster.” She began rubbing the mixture into Mariah’s hair. “The Chippewa wear their hair long not only because it is more beautiful that way but also because we believe our strength is in our hair. So shall it be for you one day, once your hair has grown to its desired length.”

Mariah was half-hearing what Nee-kah was saying, her thoughts having strayed back to Echohawk. She had to see him. And she wanted to spend some time with him. It was her plan to get permission to assist Echohawk however she could, to make up for his misfortunes caused by her father, and even herself.

And because he was partially blind, not able to see her and make out her true identity, she would be able to get away with her scheme.

“Nee-kah,” Mariah began, ready to test Nee-kah’s true strength of friendship, “you have spoken of Echohawk. You said that he was not well. And you also said that you have been assigned to look after him.”

“Ay-uh, yes, that is so,” Nee-kah said, stepping away from Mariah, nodding approvingly when she saw the shine of her hair. She then took the pouch from Mariah and handed her another one, then proceeded with dipping her fingers into this mixture, soon reddening Mariah’s cheeks with the juice of a bloodroot plant.

“I know of Echohawk,” Mariah dared to say. “I have heard of his courage. Of his bravery. It would please me so to be able to do something to help him in this time of his sorrow.” She gazed into Nee-kah’s eyes as Nee-kah stepped back and smiled, again pleased at how she had made Mariah even more beautiful than before.

“Nee-kah, you know that you can trust me, don’t you?” Mariah continued, her voice sounding more guarded than what she would have preferred.

“Ay-uh, you have proved that you are a trustworthy person. My people look to you as a hero—or should I now say heroine?” Nee-kah said, taking the pouch from Mariah, setting it aside. “And why do you ask?”

“Let me relieve you of some of your duties to Echohawk. Let me go to him and offer him my services,” Mariah said in a rush of words, watching for Nee-kah’s reaction. “This is something I could do to repay your people’s kindnesses to me while I am regaining my strength before leaving for Fort Snelling.”

Nee-kah was quiet for a moment as she gazed studiously into Mariah’s eyes. “You need not do anything else for my people,” she murmured. “You have already done enough. Because of your bravery and concern for human life, did you not save two of our beloved young ones?”

“But I want to do this, Nee-kah,” Mariah said, taking Nee-kah’s hands, squeezing them affectionately. “Please allow it. You could show me which herbs to use in doctoring Echohawk’s fever. And while I am with him, you could rest awhile, you and your unborn child. Please, Nee-kah? It would make me feel important to be able to assist you in such a way.”

Nee-kah pondered over the decision a moment longer, then smiled at Mariah. “All right,” she murmured. “I see no harm in it. You are a most sincerely sweet and caring person for wanting to do this. You are not what I would have thought white people would be like. You are filled with much love and compassion.”

Mariah’s heart began thudding wildly. “Then you are saying that I can go to Echohawk?” she said, trying to hide the anxiousness in her voice. “That I can sit with him and offer him assistance?”

“When he discovers it is you offering this assistance, he will be honored,” Nee-kah said, discounting for the moment the hate that he was feeling for the white people who had recently caused him so much heartache. Mariah was different. He would soon see that also, once his fever was cured and his senses were returned to normal.

Nee-kah placed a blanket around Mariah’s shoulders, its background like new-laid snow, interwoven with symbols in the scarlet and russet and gold of autumn leaves, and the blue of summer skies. “No-din, wear this, a gift from Nee-kah, to keep you warm on these cooler nights of autumn,” she said softly.

Mariah thrilled inside at the thought of having found such a friend, and also loving the way Nee-kah had called her No-din, her newly appointed Chippewa name. She stroked the blanket, feeling its utter softness, then eased into Nee-kah’s embrace. “Thank you,” she murmured. “I love it. Oh, how I love it.”

Nee-kah walked Mariah through the village until they came to the small dwelling that once had been hers before she married Chief Silver Wing. In it now lay an ailing chief—the beloved Echohawk.

Mariah stiffened when she heard some sort of chanting coming from inside the wigwam. She looked quickly over to Nee-kah, questioning her with her eyes.

“That is a Mide priest, one of our people’s shamans of the grand medicine society, the Mide-wi-win, that you are hearing,” Nee-kah said matter-of-factly. “He comes now and then to work his cures over Echohawk. Come. Let us go inside. You can watch.”