'How long has she been gone?'
'Four moons. She is great among us.'
Four months? There would be no tracks. How to find her? It was impossible. Nothing was known of the land to the west. There were vast plains into which no man ventured unless he could follow a stream, for none knew where the water could be found, and most said the distances between water were too great. Later, when men had horses to ride, they might venture into those plains. Now it was foolhardy and not to be seriously considered.
'Do you know where she went?'
'We know. Wethink we know.'
He sat silent for a few minutes, thinking. Then he said, 'Tonight, upon a skin, I shall draw a map. I do not know if it is the place, but such a place is in our memory. It was to such a place she went.'
'Or planned to go. Who knows what has happened? There are other Indians.' I glanced at the old man. 'She is beautiful, you said? Such a one would be wanted.'
'She is no ordinary woman.' The old man's eyes met mine. 'She can be dangerous.'
'She is a witch?'
'No! No. But we Suns have knowledge--' he shrugged. 'Nobody will live who tries to take her without her wish.' He gestured at the young man, now across the camp. 'Not even he will attempt her.'
We talked longer and of many things. I did not want to look for this woman, nor did I wish to find her, but he had come to me for help, believing in the Sacketts. After all, we were going west.
In that I was like my father. From the day he landed upon our shores his one wish was to travel to the far blue mountains, yet once there he wished to see beyond them. So it was with me. All this land about us was unknown and I wished to be among the first to see it. I wanted to drink from those lonely streams, walk the high passes of the mountains, and travel down the valleys by paths I made myself.
Was that all I wanted? Until now, yes. I wished to see, to know, to find a world of my own in an unknown land. I did not know what else remained for the future, but there was in my dreams something haunting, something shadowy, something that would take no shape. Whatever it was, it was a place or a time that I must find.
We slept that night beside the stream. Keokotah was disgruntled, and I thought perhaps he might leave me and go on by himself as he had been before our meeting. Yet he did not.
Before I fell asleep I considered long the problem of the Natchee woman. My father had built a reputation as a trusted man. He was known as a warrior, yet he was also known for wisdom, and that respect and reputation had gone far afield. Such people as the Natchee, whom we did not know, knew of him. When in need they had come to him, or to us, for help. How could I do less than carry on in my father's name?
The land that lay before us was vast and unknown, even to most of the Indians. Anyone traveling west must confine himself to the rivers and streams, and all of those streams must begin in higher ground, probably in the mountains.
Every step of the way was a step into danger. There had been rumors of strange Indians coming down from the north, a fierce lot who destroyed all before them, but warlike Indians were to be expected upon the plains. Long ago an Indian had told my father they could not live without war, and certainly they did not wish to.
Our choice was simple. We would avoid trouble when possible, face it when necessary. We would have to scout the country with care. When we found Indian sign along the stream we would have to swing wide into the plains, holding to low ground. I was still thinking of this when I fell asleep.
Keokotah was irritable when morning came. 'I no like,' he spat, and he indicated the tall young man whose name I had not yet heard. 'I will kill him, I think.'
'Wait,' I advised, 'his time will come.'
'Hah!' Keokotah said contemptuously. 'His time has come and passed. He should have been drowned at birth.'
Unfortunately, I agreed, and it was not fair of me. What did I know of him, after all? He seemed arrogant, and he wanted the Natchee woman, but since she was beautiful, no doubt many did. I had never seen her but I knew I did not want her. She did not seem like an easy companion.
True, I knew little of women, but I had seen my father and mother together and theirs was an easy, friendly, loving relationship of mutual understanding. Each had a role to fill and each did so, and together they made a team. In another way, Yance and his wife were the same. The examples I had were all of women who were not abrasive, each strong in her way, and each a companion as well as a wife.
Yet I was not looking for a woman. My time would come, but a wide land lay before me and it was to that land that I belonged. I would drink from a hundred streams, make paths where no men had been, and eat the meat of strange animals before I died.
Our campfire was lifting a thin smoke to the sky when the old man came to sit near me. He passed me a roll of hide, but when I made to unroll it he put a hand on mine. 'Only when alone,' he said. 'I trust you.'
Well, all right, but did I trust him? I decided that I did and wondered if I was too trusting.
'He,' the old man indicated the young man who was not near the fire, 'must not know. He would go to her, and there would be trouble.' He paused. 'I do not know how it is with your people but in ours there are people opposed to people. He is of one group, I am of another.'
'And she?'
The old man hesitated. 'If the Great Sun dies it is she who will say yes or no, and the Great Sun is not well. He,' the old man indicated the young man, 'wishes the power. If he marries her he believes he will have it.'
'If they are married will he become a Sun?'
'No, he will remain a Stinkard.'
I did not wish to become involved in the affairs of a people of whom I knew little and could not know who was right or wrong.
'I am going west,' I told him, 'and I will look for this woman, and if I find her I will tell her she is needed at home. I can do no more.'
The old man stirred the coals. The fire was dying. Soon we would be moving along.
'It is a fair land,' the old man said. 'I envy you. Never before have I regretted my youth, but now I would be young to walk west beside you.
'I do not know what lies westward, but we have heard strange stories of ghost cities among the mountains, vast cities hidden in the folds of canyons. And we have heard of witches and wolves and of skinny, naked things that run in the night, things not to be seen by day and things that bring fear to the heart.
'I do not know what lies out there, but you will see it all, come to know it. My body is old but my heart is young. It will go west with you.'
He arose suddenly from beside me. 'Find her, Ju-bal. Find her for us. It will cause much trouble if you do not.'
'What if she does not come back?'
He turned to look at me. 'If she is happy, it will be well. You may think I only look to our people, but it is not true. She is not my daughter, but she is like a daughter. I was one of her teachers, and believe me, I wish only happiness for her.'
'She will be happy with you?'
'Who can say? She would not be happy withhim . He is a bitter, ambitious man. She would rule, and not him, although he does not believe that, nor does he want that. She would kill him, or he would kill her. I feel sure of that.'
'I will try to find her, and if I do, I shall deliver your message.'
'Remember, she is a Sun. Elsewhere she would be less than with us. The beliefs of others are not ours, and their ways are different. She is accustomed to power and the use of power. She is a strange woman.'
Why it should come to me then, I could not say, but suddenly I remembered words from the Bible. 'For the lips of a strange woman are as honey, and her mouth is smoother than oil.'
I shook my head irritably. A vagrant, foolish thought. If I found her I would tell her to go home, although something in my mind said, not to him.
Chapter Four.
Long we sat by the fire, speaking in the Cherokee tongue. The old man was named Ni'kwana, and the fierce young man was Kapata, with an accent on the first syllable. Kapata was also the name for the hawk. The name suited him well enough.
