pear. There was room enough, a space at least forty feet wide and half again that long of smoothly packed clay.
We moved out on the clay and I endeavored to appear awkward and unsure of myself. Yet at this moment I suddenly remembered my leg. Would it make a difference? I did not believe so. It was too late now to think of that. What I must do was to discover Gomez' rhythm, the cadence of his movements. In fencing as in boxing timing and judgment of distance were all important, and the way an opponent moves and his reach must be quickly learned. My chance of victory would be greater if I moved at once, before he discovered I knew something of the art of the saber. Now he thought me what he had said, a buckskin-clad savage, to whom the use of the sword was completely foreign.
We circled, and I held my weapon awkwardly. Stepping in, I watched his step back and timed his movements. He was smiling now, a taunting smile. 'I shall have her for myself,' Gomez said, 'before I use her in trade.'
He was trying to anger me, to draw me in, so I did as he wished and made as if to attack, and then retreated as he attacked. His movements were wide, flamboyant and careless. My blade caught his thrust, parried, and slid along his blade. He moved even as my point touched his shoulder. He backed away, circling, looking at me with a question in his eyes. I had been too good on that one. He would be more cautious now. But he was not, he attacked again with wide-sweeping cuts and I retreated. He came on, suddenly impatient, yet I had taken his measure and caught him out of time. I thrust, quick, low, and hard.
Whether it found a break in his chain mail or drove through, I did not know, but my point went in, deep and hard. Cutting left with the edge, I withdrew sharply, and blood followed.
His face was ghastly. It had suddenly turned mottled and yellow and he staggered, trying to regain his poise. He tried an attack, but his timing was gone and I thrust again, this time at his throat. Turning the blade at the target I cut sharply left and laid open his throat. His blade dropped and he tried to speak. Then he fell over on his face.
There was a chorus of shouts and some wild yells. Looking up I beheld a circle of Indians, at least fifty of them on horseback, watching.
Keokotah came from the trees. 'Utes,' he said. 'Speak well.'
I lifted my sword to them in a salute, and then bowed with a wide, sweeping gesture.
Keokotah stepped toward them, speaking. They listened and watched as he used sign language with the words.
He who appeared to be chief listened and then spoke.
'He says you are much warrior,' Keokotah said. 'Offer them gifts. Tell them we are friends in their land. We wish them to come often to trade. Tell them we have come to bring the Utes presents and wish to stay in this small corner of their land and help them against their enemies, the Komantsi.'
There was a brief exchange. Keokotah said, 'He wishes to see your presents.' Then he added, 'I think you've a friend. He likes the way you fight.'
Wiping my blade, I returned it to Diego, who was now talking to the men of Gomez. Picking up Gomez' sword I wiped it clean. Then I took it to the Ute chief and presented it to him with a bow.
Gravely, he accepted the sword, and I said, 'I, your friend, present you with this sword to be used against your enemies. Your friends are my friends. Your enemies are my enemies.'
Bowing again, I took two steps back and then turned to the gate. Now was the time to show them my medicine. Inside the gate, waiting, was Paisano.
'Food, Komi! We must feed them! We must feed our new friends!'
Paisano walked from the gate, a huge, massive beast, and I heard gasps of astonishment. Coolly, I gathered the reins and stepped into the saddle. Calmly, gravely, I walked Paisano out upon the clay to mutters of awe and astonishment. Saluting them again, I rode Paisano back into the gate as the women began to emerge with trays of food.
Much depended upon this first meeting, and well I knew it. They had seen me win a victory and they had seen me ride a buffalo, which to them was big medicine, but now to more practical things.
Showing the chief and some of the elders to seats on a log outside the gate, I warned all against walking in the grass. Then I brought out several bolts of red calico, a dozen knives, another dozen of hatchets. The Utes came to stare at what to them, at this time, was a veritable treasure.
All things are valued according to their scarcity, and a time might come when this gift would seem as nothing. What was worth little to us was worth much to them because they were things they could not get elsewhere.
Keokotah's woman and the Ponca woman brought food to put before our guests, and they seated themselves and ate.
Suddenly, two Natchee Indians emerged from the gate, each holding a torch. For a moment they stood, until all eyes were upon them. Then slowly, with grace and poise, Itchakomi Ishaia emerged between them .
Looking neither right nor left she walked down the open space before the chiefs, and it was only then that I noticed that one of our benches, covered with a buffalo robe, had been placed opposite them.
She seated herself, and the torch bearers moved to right and left. For a long moment she said nothing, as all stared.
Then she said, 'I am Itchakomi Ishaia, Daughter of the Sun, Priestess of the Eternal Fire.' She waited again until one might have counted to five very slowly, and then she said, 'I walk with this man, who is Jubal Sackett, the Ni'kwana, master of mysteries!'
Chapter Forty.
Never had I been so proud of my wife as at that moment. Indians dearly love ceremony, as do many of us, and there could be no doubt in the mind of anyone that she was no less than a beloved woman.
Keokotah, who knew much of the Ute language, which was similar to that of tribes he had known, spoke to them, translating her words and telling who she was.
'In the cave,' he indicated the place near our fort, 'lives the fire that burns forever. She is its guardian, its priestess.
'He--' he pointed at me, 'brought the fire from heaven. The fire is the gift of the Sun. I have seen it.'
'And I!' said a Natchee torch bearer.
'And I!' the other repeated.
Diego moved to my side. 'She iswonderful! ' he whispered. 'She has won them all!'
Awed, I looked at her. This beautiful woman, this goddess--could she be mine? Beautiful, yes, but intelligent also. She had come among them when the time had been right, and they would never forget her.
I smiled to myself. 'And she didn't have to ride a buffalo to do it!'
Long after they were gone, the effect remained with me. Surely, I would remember her always in that beaded white buckskin costume, a band about her dark hair, standing between the torches. She had beauty then, and magic, also.
One by one the Utes went to see the sacred fire, to look upon it and pass on. When they rode away with their gifts I knew we had won some friends. More than my buffalo, more than my fighting, more than my gifts, it had been Itchakomi who had done it.
'They will be friends now,' Keokotah commented complacently. 'We will have no trouble.'
Yet as I looked down the darkening valley, I wondered. Suddenly, I shuddered. We used to say when that happened somebody had just stepped on our grave.
Perhaps--
Suddenly, just for a moment, I seemed to see a vast beast rising before me, a mighty monster with tusks like spears, lifting his great head, winding his trunk back against his brow, a red-eyed monster who looked at me and started to move, coming at me. Instinctively I reached for a spear, and there was none, and I was alone.
I shuddered again.
That, now? After all of this? Would it come now? But how could it be? There was no such beast. An elephant with long hair?
Yet that night I slept and slept well, with no nightmares, no dreams.
We had given much meat to feeding the Utes, and if we were to last the winter it must be replaced, so now was the time for hunting. Also, there was the matter of the sulphur. If we could find a workable deposit we could
