“How awful!” Mariah cried, paling.
Echohawk moved to her side and sat down, his face solemn. “The red man is like the loon,” he said somberly. “We struggle with fate, but to no avail. Like the river to the loon, the white man is the victor, always.”
An intense chill encompassed Mariah, his words like ice water splashing through her consciousness.
“And yet you love me?” she murmured. “A woman whose skin is white?”
Echohawk turned her to face him. He lifted her onto his lap and cradled her close. “My woman, you too were a victim of a man with white skin, a man whose heart was black,” he murmured. “It is I, a red man, who will make the wrongs right for you.”
Mariah’s eyes filled with tears. She moved her mouth to his lips and kissed him softly, sweetly. “Mee-gway-chee-wahn-dum, thank you, my love,” she whispered against his lips. “Thank you.”
Chapter 21
’Tis not the richest plant that holds
the sweetest fragrance.
—Dawes
The shore was low and wet where Echohawk’s braves dragged several macinac boats into the water. They had brought them there ahead of Echohawk’s arrival, for the purpose of crossing this treacherous river. Mariah hugged a blanket around her arms. The chill of morning was more biting each day as autumn turned into winter.
Seeing these larger boats, instead of canoes, gave Mariah more confidence in their ability to make it across the wide river. The sturdy macinac boats were built for navigating rapids and had pointed ends to cut through the water and heavier weight so they would not be tossed about.
Mariah stifled a scream and took several shaky steps backward when out of the corner of her eye she saw a huge king snake basking on an exposed part of the riverbank. It lay in the warmth of the morning sun, its entire length ringed with narrow bands of brilliant red, black, and light yellow.
“Do not fear the
snake,” Echohawk said, moving to Mariah’s side. “It has been slowed down by the coldness of the night. By the time it is warmed clear through, we will be on the other side of the river.”
“Thank goodness for that,” Mariah said, laughing nervously.
“Mah-bee-szhon, come,” Echohawk said, placing a hand to Mariah’s elbow. “The boats are loaded into the water. They are ready for travel.”
The pit of Mariah’s stomach felt somewhat woozy, and her throat was dry at the thought of attempting such a dangerous expedition with Echohawk and his braves. Yet, so much good could come as a result of the river crossing.
She needed to find her father, and to clear Echohawk’s name.
These things alone made her step determined as she walked with Echohawk toward the boats.
The water lapping at her moccasined feet, Mariah stood in awe of Echohawk all over again when he broke into a sad, lamenting song, gazing with arms outstretched to the heavens. She listened to the words, knowing that they were meant for Echohawk’s Great Spirit.
“Master of Life!” Echohawk sang. “Look down upon my people and help us avenge the wrongs brought against us by our enemies.
“Master of Battle! Keep evil spirits from us and keep us hidden from evil eyes.
“Master of Fate! Our lives are in your hands.”
When the song was over, Echohawk stood quietly and with great dignity in the midst of his men. Then, as he motioned to them with the gesture of a hand, his braves dispersed to their respective boats, while Echohawk helped Mariah into the one that he would command.
Once on board, sitting among many soft pelts, Echohawk and several other braves manning the oars, Mariah clung to the sides and shivered as the damp river wind dashed against her face.
Her eyes kept alert, watching the fevered changes in the water’s currents. When the water slammed against the sides of the boat, it shuddered dangerously. The pit of her stomach stirred strangely when the boat would dip low, then quickly rise again as the white water tossed it about.
But, she noticed, not a sound could be heard over the roar of the falls as the boat moved steadily toward the opposite bank. As the oars dipped rhythmically in and out, it was with a silent cadence that they flowed soundlessly through the water.
Mariah inhaled a shaky breath, so relieved that the opposite shore had finally been reached. Her nose and cheeks were so cold they felt as though they might snap in two at a mere touch.
Echohawk and his men beached their boats, then Echohawk came and helped her from the boat, carrying her to land that was not damp with mud.