The Scalp Hunters

The others came trotting up, Wakumassee and Tihikanima and Tenikawaku and Mikikawaku.

“Why did you chase them?” Waku demanded. He liked the white girl, liked her a lot, but at times she did rash things.

“I wanted to talk to them,” Evelyn explained. “I still do. Didn’t you see that one of them was hurt?”

“They not want your help.” Waku considered the arrow the warrior let fly a distinct hint.

“They were afraid of us.”

“They afraid of us?” Waku repeated in some amazement.

Evelyn rose in the stirrups and surveyed the vast extent of plain to the north. “The important thing is who hurt that warrior? They must have run into enemies. If there’s a war party somewhere close, we need to know.”

Waku hadn’t thought of that. “If there is war party near, we must go far away.”

“What if they’re between us and the mountains?” Evelyn shook her head. “They could be anywhere. We need to find out who and how many and where those two warriors last saw them.” She gigged the mare.

Dega was aghast. She had just escaped being shot with an arrow and here she was going after the men who shot at her. He glanced at his father in mute appeal and saw that he was just as dumbfounded.

Tihi didn’t like this one bit. “What is that foolish girl doing?”

“She thinks we need to talk to the two warriors,” Waku said. “She says there could be enemies close by.”

“Then we should return to the mountains. Out here on the prairie it is too open. We are too exposed.”

“I agree with Mother,” Tenikawaku said. She never wanted to come hunt buffalo in the first place. She was perfectly content to stay in King Valley where they were safe.

Little Minikawaku said nothing. She did not understand any of this, but she trusted her parents to do what was best.

“Stop her, Waku,” Tihi said. “Call to her.”

“She would not listen. She is headstrong, that one.”

Tihi smothered a tart reply. At moments like these she wished her husband was a bit more forceful, even if it wasn’t the Nansusequa way. The People of the Forest believed in living in harmony with everyone where possible. They exalted reason over confrontation, peace over violence. Unfortunately, as they had learned to their bitter sorrow, not everyone shared their ideals.

“We must go after her,” Waku said. “Her father and mother have been exceptionally kind to us.”

“She is a child in a woman’s body,” Tihi said in uncharacteristic anger. “I am grateful for what her parents have done for us, but they have not raised her right.”

“They are not Nansusequa.”

Dega was impatient to catch up to Evelyn. A dutiful son would wait for his father and mother to finish their talk, but he slapped his horse’s legs and hurried off.

“Let us go,” Waku said, and followed him.

Reluctantly Tihi goaded her animal on. She was not in the best of spirits. The long ride to the prairie had given her a lot of time to think, and her thoughts ran in troubling channels. As grateful as she was to Nate and Winona King—and she was sincerely grateful—she was not so sure she liked the idea of her son taking their daughter for his wife. There was the issue of Dega leaving their lodge. She was certain Evelyn would insist on it. And their children; would they be raised in the Nansusequa way or the white way? No, the more Tihi considered it, the more convinced she became that her son should not marry Evelyn King.

A jab of her heels quickened her mount’s gait so that she passed her husband and her daughters and caught up to her eldest child. Dega was staring intently after Evelyn, so love-struck it would amuse her were the consequences not so serious.

“You would think she would wait for us.”

Dega had not looked around to see who had joined him. Now he did, and said with great admiration, “She is brave, is she not, Mother?”

Tihi chose her words with care. By no degree must she show disapproval. He might resent it. “Yes, Evelyn is brave. Brave is not always wise, though.”

“In what way?”

“Look at her. She must know you care for her, yet she rides into danger with no thought for your feelings.” Tihi smiled to blunt the blow.

“She thinks of all of us. Did you hear her about the war party?”

“I did. Which is why I would head west to the mountains. Instead, she takes us farther out into the prairie, farther from our valley, farther from safety.”

Dega glanced over his shoulder at his father and his sisters.

“I worry for Teni and Miki,” Tihi continued. “Remember what those white men almost did to Teni? A war party might do the same to them.”

“Nate King says that rarely happens.” But Dega was worried now, too.

“Rare does not mean never.”

“I would give my life to prevent that from happening to them.”

“You are a fine brother and son.” Tihi adopted a lighthearted air. “But listen to us. Criticizing Evelyn when, as you say, she is only concerned for our welfare. She is a dear girl.”

“Very dear.”

“Your father thought the same of me when he was courting me. It was different for us, though, since we were both Nansusequa.”

“Love is love,” Dega said.

It was the first time her son openly used that word in referring to Evelyn King. Tihi realized she was broaching the subject at just the right time. “There are different kinds of love, my son. There is the love we share for Manitoa and all Manitoa provides. There is the love of a father and a mother for their children, and the love between brothers and sisters. Then there is the special love between a man and a woman. When they are of the same people or from the same tribe, they have much in common and their love is that much stronger. When they are not, their love is less than it could be.”

“Less how, Mother?”

“The wife will want things her way, and the husband will want things his way. There are disagreements, arguments, fights.”

“Not if they get along well.”

“That is important, yes. But they cannot help being who they are. They cannot help how they were raised. They will not always agree, not as two people would who share the same beliefs.”

“So are you saying it is wrong for a man and a woman to became husband and wife if they do not have a lot in common?”

Tihi gave him her sweetest smile. “I would never say that, Son. It is for the man and the woman to decide. Do they live in harmony with each other, as the Nansusequa believe they should, or do they argue and fight over whose way is best?”

Dega had a lot to ponder. He was still pondering when cottonwoods framed the horizon. He called to Evelyn.

Evelyn heard him, but she didn’t slow. Since it was her idea to talk to the two warriors, she should take the risk of approaching them. She rode faster. As she entered the trees, she spied two horses. She plastered a smile of greeting on her face and made sure to point her rifle at the ground so the warriors wouldn’t get the wrong impression. She caught sight of the blue of a stream and heard the gurgling of water. Then she was in a clearing and saw a dead warrior on the ground in a pool of fresh blood and another warrior bound about the legs and a man who appeared to be a Negro or part Negro about to bash in the bound warrior’s head with the stock of his rifle.

All this Evelyn took in at a glance. If she was surprised, so were they. No one moved. She thrust out her Hawken and thumbed back the hammer. “Hold it right there!”

Plenty Elk was astonished that the white woman would come to his aid. Yet that appeared to be exactly what she was doing. He expected the black man to fight. Instead, Rubicon whirled and was in among the cottonwoods in