Devil Moon

knees had been scraped raw. Her eyes were pools of fear.

Evelyn went to rise and stopped. The instant she moved, the girl took a step back. “Wait,” she urged, and willed herself to keep her voice calm. “Don’t go. You’re welcome here.”

“We are not your enemies, child,” Dega said in Nansusequa. “I bid you welcome in peace.”

The girl raised a hand to her matted hair and scratched.

“Why won’t she speak?” Evelyn wondered. “Who can she be, wandering around in the dark all alone?” In a flash of inspiration, the explanation came to her. “I’m so stupid.”

“What?”

“That lodge we found. The dead woman and the dead boy.” Evelyn nodded at the girl. “She must be part of the same family.” Evelyn tried to communicate anew with “Behne.”

The girl didn’t answer.

“Pehnaho.”

Still no response.

Evelyn tried, “Ne dei’.” It was Shoshone for, I am a friend. But it brought no reply, either. To Dega she said, “How can we get her to talk?”

“I not know.”

“Ne qai neetsiiqwa en.” Evelyn had told the girl that she wouldn’t hurt her. Once again, with no result.

“Keep trying,” Dega urged.

“Kui yekwi.”

“What that one?”

“I asked her to come sit with us,” Evelyn translated. She moved her hand that held the corn cake to her lap and saw the girl follow the movement. Another inspiration struck. “Deka,” she said, and tossed the cake.

It landed a foot or so from the girl. She took a step and reached for it but then cast an anxious glance at them and drew her arm back.

“It is yours,” Evelyn said in Shoshone. “Eat it.” She couldn’t remember if the Tukaduka spoke the exact same dialect as her mother’s people, but the tongues were close enough that the girl should be able to understand her. “Damn, I wish she would say something,” she whispered to Dega, and then realized what she had said. “Don’t tell my pa I cussed or he’ll want to wash out my mouth with soap.”

“What is cussed?” Dega couldn’t recall hearing the word before.

“I said ‘damn’ and ladies aren’t supposed to swear.”

“What is swear?”

“It’s when you use bad words.”

Once again, Dega was confused. “How words be bad?”

“You know. Words that people say when they’re mad. Or words about things people shouldn’t talk about.”

Dega sighed in frustration. He had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. The Nansusequa used the same words whether they were mad or not. “Why ladies not say those words?”

“Don’t ask me. It’s all right for men to use them but not women, although when I was back in the States I heard plenty of women swear worse than my pa ever does.” Evelyn had forgotten the girl. She looked over and smiled.

The girl had picked up the corn cake and was tearing ravenously at it with her teeth. She made mewing sounds as she ate, as if the food were delicious beyond compare.

“Look at her.”

“I see,” Dega said.

“The poor thing is starved.” Evelyn took another corn cake and threw it. This one landed at the girl’s feet. Quick as thought, the girl pounced on it and commenced to gobble both at once, virtually stuffing them into her mouth.

“Where she live?” Dega brought up.

Evelyn had been wondering the same thing. The state the girl was in—filthy and famished—suggested she must be on her own, all alone in the wilderness. That she had lasted this long was a miracle. Smiling, she said in Shoshone, “When you are done eating those cakes, come and sit by the fire with us and we will share more of our food with you.”

The girl stopped and stared at her.

“You do understand,” Evelyn guessed. She patted the ground. “Sit by me, little one.”

Her fright transparent, the girl straightened and took a step. What was left of the two cakes was clutched tight in her hands.

“Neither of us will touch you,” Evelyn said. “We want to help.”

The girl took another step.

“How are you called?” Evelyn asked. “My name is Blue Flower.” It was her Shoshone name, bestowed on her at birth by her mother. “I would like to know yours.”

Dega was impressed at how Evelyn was so earnest and nice. The girl was impressed, too, because she came closer and stopped just out of reach. Crumbs speckled her dirty chin. He smiled to show that he, too, was friendly, and said in his own tongue, “We welcome you.”

“You must have a name,” Evelyn said in Shoshone. “Is it Morning Dove? Little Fawn? Rabbit Tail?” All were names of girls she knew.

The girl went on chewing.

“Is it Buffalo Hump?” Evelyn asked, referring to a noted warrior, and chuckled in amusement. She wasn’t sure but she thought the corners of the girl’s thin mouth quirked upward. “Is it Bear Running? Drags The Rope? Touch The Clouds?” Again, all names of warriors.

The girl took another bite of corn cake.

“I know.” Evelyn grinned. “It must be Cat By The Tail.” She meant it to make the girl smile and realized her mistake the moment the words were out of her mouth. The girl recoiled and stopped chewing and cast apprehensive looks over her shoulders.

“It all right,” Dega said in English. “No cat here.”

The girl turned toward Evelyn. Her eyes shimmered with tears and she tried to speak.

“We will not let anything hurt you,” Evelyn assured her. “We are friends.” She touched her chest. “Dei’.” She pointed at Degamawaku. “Hainji.”

The girl took a step back.

“Wait!” Evelyn reached for her.

Uttering a plaintive wail, the girl whirled and bolted.

“Catch her!” Evelyn cried, and was up and running. She had always been fleet of foot and she ran full out, but the girl was incredibly swift and widened her lead.

Dega sped to help. He had raced Evelyn once and beaten her, but it had taken all he had. Now he ran full out and caught up just as she reached the woods. He plunged in among the pines and oaks, heedless of the limbs that whipped at him and the brush that tore at his legs. He spied the girl and pointed. “There!”

Evelyn hadn’t taken her eyes off her. She was determined to catch the child no matter what; a little girl like that shouldn’t be left alone in the wild. So far the girl had defied the odds, but no one’s luck held forever. Evelyn flew, holding the Hawken at her side so it wouldn’t snag.

The girl glanced back, her small feet flying. She still held on to what was left of the corn cakes.

“Don’t be afraid!” Evelyn hollered.

“Stop!” Dega shouted.

The girl darted around a small spruce. They were no more than ten feet behind her yet when they rounded the spruce, she had vanished. They stopped in bewilderment.

“Where did she get to?” Evelyn asked, turning right and left. She listened but other than her heavy breathing and Dega’s, the forest was quiet.

“I not know,” Dega answered. He took a few more steps and cocked his head. “She disappear.” He was proud of that word. His English was improving.