Savage Winter (17 page)

All the next day the wolves stayed near the tree. Sometimes they would snarl and circle the tree, and every so often they would lunge at the branches. Once in a while the animals would tire of their pacing and lie down, their eyes looking menacingly up into the tree. Often one of the more adventuresome wolves would lunge at the tree, trying his best to reach Joanna and Morning Song.

Joanna and Morning Song had been able to satisfy their thirst by scooping up handfuls of sleet and putting it into their mouths. There was nothing they could do, however, to alleviate their growing hunger.

Morning Song grabbed hold of an overhead branch and stood up to ease her cramped leg muscles. “How long do you think the wolves will remain here?” she asked Joanna. “Do you think they will soon tire of watching us?”

“I do not know. They seem to be content to outlast us. If we just had food, we would be much better prepared to out-wait them.”

“We are not completely defenseless. I still have the knife,” Morning Song reminded Joanna.

Joanna smiled. “Little good that will do us. One of our main problems at the moment is making sure we do not fall out of the tree.”

“Do you think Windhawk will find us?”

“Who can say, Morning Song? The sleet will have covered our tracks. I fear if we are to be saved…we will have
to do it by ourselves. I do not even know in which direction the Blackfoot village is located.”

Morning Song smiled and pointed in a southwesterly direction. “I know the way home, Joanna. Our village is many days in that direction.”

“We will have much against us, Morning Song. It is turning colder—we have the wolves to contend with, and there is no food. We will have to be strong and depend on each other for our very survival. That will be our only chance…if we are ever allowed to leave this tree!”

Morning Song sat down and looked at her beautiful sister-in-law. “I will help you all I can, Joanna. Somehow, I know we are going to make it back home.”

Joanna smiled at the young girl, feeling years older than her. She thought about trying to make small talk to draw Morning Song’s mind away from the wolves and her hunger.

“Tell me, is there some young brave in the village whom you feel will miss you, Morning Song?”

The young girl smiled. “There is no one except…” she lowered her head. “I sometimes look at Tag and wish he would notice me as a girl. He always treats me as his sister, and I wish he would not.”

Joanna looked at the lovely young girl in surprise. “I had no notion that you felt that way about Tag. How long has this been going on?”

“I have always loved Tag, but he does not notice me. I have seen him look at some of the other girls with interest, but never at me.”

Joanna smiled, hearing the jealousy in Morning Song’s voice. “I suspect he is too young to notice too many girls. Give him time…he will change.”

“I do not have much time. Tag will one day go away, and I will never see him again. My mother says that I am foolish to think of him as other than a brother, for he will not stay in our world.”

“Your mother is right, Morning Song. One day, Tag will
leave us to settle an old debt. I would not want to see you hurt.”

Morning Song raised her dark eyes to Joanna. “If Tag would just once look at me as a woman, then I would be able to carry that memory in my heart forever. I have told my mother I will never marry because I…love Tag. I believe I shall always love him.”

Joanna pulled Morning Song into her arms and hugged her tightly. “Dear sweet, little sister, I see only heartbreak for you if you feel this way about Tag. He could no more stay with you than you could go with him to his world. I tell you this because I do not want you to be hurt; you are very dear to me.”

A sob broke from Morning Song’s lips. “Let us talk about something else. I get so sad when I think about Tag growing up and going away.”

Joanna pushed the tumbled hair from Morning Song’s face. “Would you like to talk about the baby Windhawk and I are going to have?”

Morning Song’s face brightened, and Joanna saw joy on her face. “I have often wanted to speak to you about the baby, but you did not seem to want to talk about it, so I kept my silence. I have wondered why Windhawk does not show his joy at being a father. He has been so different since he brought you back to our village.”

Joanna smiled sadly. “There are many reasons why Windhawk and I are no longer together. One of them is that he prefers Red Bird to me.”

“Oh, no, he loves you! I know this to be true. He does not love Red Bird!” Morning Song insisted.

“I once thought he loved me, Morning Song, but I no longer believe that. Windhawk believes the baby I carry belongs to a white man who was a friend of mine. He does not accept this child as his.”

“How can this be? I know you would never betray my brother with another man.”

“I wish your brother had as much faith in me as you do, little sister.”

Morning Song was quiet for a moment. “I know you and Windhawk are…apart. I thought it was because you ran away from him. Many times I felt sad in my heart that you and my brother were both suffering, but my mother said I could not speak to you about this. She said that whatever was wrong between the two of you concerned only you and Windhawk.”

“I did not run away from Windhawk, Morning Song. I was taken away against my will, but Windhawk does not believe that either.”

“When we get back to the village, I will tell him this. I know he will believe me,” Morning Song said in a determined voice.

“No, that is what you must not do. If Windhawk is to want me, he must come to me on his own. Do you not see, if he comes because of something you say to him, I will never know if he loves me or not.”

“He does not love Red Bird. I myself do not even like her.”

Joanna laughed and touched Morning Song’s cheek. “You have a loyal heart, little sister. You will grow to love any woman that your brother takes as his wife.”

Joanna hadn’t realized while they had been talking that the wolves had left in search of a more accessible prey. She strained her eyes, searching the darkness to be sure none of them were lurking in the shadows. Seeing no sign of the animals, she decided if she and Morning Song were going to survive, they would have to leave now. If they stayed any longer, the wolves might return. She felt deep fear at the thought of leaving the safety of the tree, knowing the wolves could return at any time. With mental force, she pushed that fear aside.

“You wait here in the tree while I go down below,” Joanna cautioned the younger girl.

“No, let me go. I don’t want anything to happen to you or the baby,” Windhawk’s sister protested.

Joanna didn’t stay to argue the point, but grabbed hold of a branch and dropped to the ground. At first she was cautious, holding on to a low-hanging branch so she could swing
herself back into the tree in case of danger. Moments passed, and she saw no sign of the wolves, so she let go of the branch. Turning around in a circle, while her eyes scanned the forest carefully, she was relieved to see no further sign of them.

She placed her finger to her lips and motioned for Morning Song to join her on the ground.

Joanna picked up a long stick, and Morning Song clutched her knife in her hand. Moving carefully away from the shelter of the tree, they walked quickly away.

Morning Song pointed Joanna in the right direction, and the two girls ran as fast as they could, not stopping until they felt they were far enough away from where the wolves had held them prisoner.

Windhawk awoke to the smell of roasting buffalo meat. When he had returned from the raid on the Cree village his lodge had been a mere shell, since most of his belongings were still packed in leather satchels. Now, he noticed someone had unpacked and had straightened the lodge, and his meal was cooking over the open flames.

Thinking his mother had set his lodge in order, he stood up. He felt such an emptiness inside. There was a deep ache left by Joanna’s death, and he knew it would never completely go away. His life would be no more than a meaningless, shallow existence without her.

The lodge flap was pushed aside, and he watched Red Bird enter, carrying an armload of firewood. His eyes widened in wonder at the woman’s brazen audacity in coming to his lodge uninvited.

“It has grown colder and begins to snow more heavily,” Red Bird said, dumping the wood beside the cook-fire and
giving him a bright smile. When her eyes sought his, her heart seemed to flutter like some foolish young maiden’s. Her glance was drawn to his muscular body, which was clad only in a scant breechcloth, and she felt her heart flutter.

“What are you doing in my lodge?” he demanded. “No woman comes to me unless I summon her.”

Red Bird took no offense at his words. Her own father was a chief, and she was accustomed to his thundering orders for others to follow. “Your mother sent me to you. She thought you might need…comfort.”

Windhawk pulled on his buckskin breeches and shirt. “You can stay or go as you like. I will not be here,” he said, grabbing up his heavy buffalo robe and walking outside.

He resented the fact that his mother had sent this woman to him. She should have known that his hurt over Joanna’s death was still too new. He felt no desire for this woman or any other. He knew Red Bird had a lot to do with the trouble between him and Joanna, but at the moment he was in no mood to talk to her about it.

“I will wait until you return, Windhawk,” she called after him.

Windhawk didn’t even hear her; his mind was on other things. He had decided to go in search of Tag and bring him home. He dreaded telling the boy that his sister was dead, but he didn’t want him to hear about Joanna’s death from anyone but him. Knowing how close Tag and Joanna had always been, his heart ached at having to tell him about his sister. Somehow he felt the need to be with Joanna’s brother. Perhaps, in sharing his grief, he could lessen it.

Sun Woman watched her son mount his horse and ride away from the village. She shook her head, knowing she had made a mistake in sending Red Bird to him. She didn’t know where Windhawk was going, but she knew he needed to be alone. Perhaps, it would be good if Red Bird remained in Windhawk’s lodge until he returned, she reasoned. He would need the sympathy only a woman could give him.

Joanna leaned against a tree to rest for a moment and catch her breath. It was so cold that her breath was coming out like cloudy puffs of fog. Her hands and feet were so cold they felt numb.

Glancing over at Morning Song, she saw her digging in the snow beneath a chokecherry bush and realized she was searching for berries.

Joanna dropped down beside her and helped her dig the snow away. Beneath the snow they found a few scattered berries and crammed them into their mouths, eating them hungrily, seeds and all.

“If the snow were not covering the ground, we would find roots and nuts to satisfy our hunger,” Morning Song said, wiping her mouth.

“We are going to need something more substantial than berries if we are going to make it to the village,” Joanna reminded her.

“We will freeze to death if we don’t find some shelter,” Morning Song stated.

“I admit I have no experience in wilderness survival, Morning Song,” Joanna said, knowing that a young Blackfoot girl was trained from birth to live off the land. “I will rely on your good judgment to get us through. Tell me what we should do? It is getting colder, and with night coming on the temperature will drop even more. You realize our biggest problem will be keeping warm?”

“I was once told by my father of a time when he was lost in a snowstorm,” Morning Song said. “He told me that he had covered himself with snow, and it kept him warm. Perhaps we should try to cover ourselves with snow.”

“I am not disputing your father’s words, Morning Song, but it does not sound right to…” her voice trailed off. “Wait! I remember Farley telling me about when he was buried in snow. Perhaps we should try it!”

Morning Song looked around, trying to find a sheltered place that would help protect them from the cold. Spotting
a small hill in the distance, she pointed to it. “If we spend the night there, we will be sheltered from the north wind.”

Joanna nodded her agreement, and the two girls made their way slowly to the hill. The wind was biting cold, and Joanna could feel her face stinging from the snow the wind pelted at her with a driving force.

When they reached the hill, Morning Song knelt down and cleared the snow away. Removing the buffalo robe from her shoulders, she placed it on the ground.

“I suppose the best thing to do would be for both of us to roll up in the buffalo robe, Joanna.”

“That seems the correct way to me,” Joanna said, smiling. “You lie down, and I will cover you.”

“No, we will have to lie together. It is snowing very heavily now—in time, we will be covered with snow. One good thing about this is that the wild animals will not be able to pick up our scent.”

The two girls wrapped themselves in the buffalo robe. Joanna felt she would never be warm again. Morning Song huddled close to her while they shivered, listening to the howling of the wind.

Joanna pulled the buffalo robe over their heads, trying to think of anything except how cold she felt. She wanted to find something to talk about with Morning Song, so they could both forget about the hunger that gnawed constantly at their insides.

“Morning Song, what do you think I should call the baby if it is a girl?” Joanna asked. She could hear the young girl’s teeth chattering from the cold. Probably they would both freeze to death during the night, she told herself. It was a helpless feeling knowing there was nowhere they could go to escape the cold.

“I…do not…know,” Morning Song whispered. “It would…be nice if you had a girl.”

“Be thinking about it—remember, she will be the daughter of a chief just as you were and should have a lovely-sounding name, like yours.”

“Can I really help you name this baby if it should turn out to be a girl?”

“Yes, you may. I suppose if it is a boy Windhawk will give him a name.”

“I will love this child whether it is a girl or boy. May I help you with the baby when it is born?”

Joanna rubbed Morning Song’s arms and hands trying to warm them. Right now she felt the responsibility for Morning Song’s safety, and realized what it would be like to be the mother of a daughter.

“I will depend on your help when the baby comes, Morning Song. I know very little about babies. I have seldom been around small children.”

“I know a great deal about babies. Gray Fox’s wives often allow me to help them with their babies.”

Joanna snuggled close to Morning Song, thinking she was too young to die. Morning Song hadn’t even begun to live yet. Joanna felt herself getting drowsy and began to nod off. She remembered reading somewhere that if one is freezing the one thing he must not do is fall asleep. She tried to pull herself out of her sleep-drugged state, but found she was just too exhausted to fight against the sleep she needed so badly. She was not surprised when her last thoughts turned to Windhawk.

“Morning Song, if you make it back home, and I do not, tell Windhawk that I love him,” she whispered, before drifting off to a deep sleep.

Morning Song didn’t answer because she had already fallen asleep.

The snow continued to fall heavily during the night, and soon a thick, white blanket covered the two girls.

Windhawk had easily found Tag, since he himself had made the same journey when he had been a boy.

He watched sadly as Tag digested what he had told him about his sister’s death.

“You are sure my sister is dead?” the boy said, with unashamed tears running down his face.

“There can be no doubt, Tag. I saw her…body.” Windhawk thought Tag would suffer enough over Joanna’s death; he found no reason to tell him that the body had been burned beyond all recognition.

Tag wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. “I do not know why you allowed Joanna and Morning Song to remain behind when the others left with only Farley to protect them, Windhawk,” Tag said, trying to make sense out of what Windhawk had told him.

Windhawk looked into Tag’s face, thinking the young boy had learned much from his journey into the wilderness. He was taller, and his shoulders were broader. His hair was now completely golden in color and had lost its red cast, no longer reminding Windhawk of Joanna’s hair. He couldn’t bring himself to tell Tag about the trouble between himself and Joanna. Perhaps someday, when the pain wasn’t so acute, he would talk to the boy about his sister…but not now.

“Looking back with regret does not return the dead to us, Tag. Do you feel that I am responsible for Joanna’s and Morning Song’s deaths?”

Tag walked out of the tipi. Windhawk followed him, watching as he raised his face to the sky. “No, I know you loved them both. I blame you for nothing.”

Windhawk sighed inwardly. “I think, perhaps, I feel responsible for the tragedy, Tag.”

“As you said, Windhawk, looking back with regret does not return the dead to us,” Tag said, reminding Windhawk of his own words earlier.

“Yes, that is so, Tag.”

“I am no longer called Tag. I have earned my name.”

“What is your name, Tag?”

“I am called Mountain Wolf.”

“How did you earn your name?”

“I slew a wolf with only a knife. The animal had me and
Crooked Nose trapped on a mountain ledge. I had to decide whether to kill the wolf or leap to my death in the canyon below. As you see, I decided to slay the wolf.”

The change in Tag was becoming more apparent as Windhawk listened to him talk. He had indeed become a man. He felt pride in Tag’s accomplishment.

“Come, Mountain Wolf,” he said, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder, “it is time for you and me to go home.”

Joanna didn’t know how much time had passed, but she awoke feeling as though a heavy weight was bearing down on her. She felt very warm and wanted to throw off whatever was on top of her. When she became fully awake, she remembered their desperate situation.

“Joanna, are you awake?”

“Yes, apparently we made it through the night.”

“My father and Farley were right, were they not? The snow did keep us warm.”

“It would seem so, for, in truth, I am too warm. It must have snowed a great deal, because I can feel something weighing down on us.”

Morning Song giggled, pushing upward on the buffalo robe, only to be rewarded by a mound of snow which came tumbling down into their faces.

Joanna stood up and stared about her in amazement. The countryside was so beautiful…a winter paradise! She would have enjoyed it more if it hadn’t been for her hunger. She picked up the buffalo robe, shook the snow from it, and placed it about Morning Song’s shoulders.

“No,” Morning Song said, removing the warm robe and holding it out to Joanna. “I will not wear the robe, since you have nothing to keep you warm. You must wear this,” she insisted adamantly.

Joanna caught her hand. “We must be sensible if we are to stay alive, Morning Song. The only reasonable thing to do would be to take turns wearing the robe. Does that not make sense to you?”

“Can we not put it about both of us?”

“If need be, but at the moment, I do not want it,” Joanna answered, picking up the long stick she had kept with her, thinking she might need it for protection.

They trudged on and on in the snow. Sometimes they would step into a snowdrift and be buried up to their knees, and at other times they would slip and fall on the icy surface. Nothing deterred them in their need to reach the Blackfoot village.

By midmorning, they were both exhausted and had to stop to rest. Joanna knew they couldn’t keep up this grueling pace without food to sustain them.

“Do you see those big mountains in the distance?” Morning Song pointed out. “We must cross them—about six moons on the other side, we will find our village.”

Joanna stared at the unyielding face of the mountain. “They do not look passable to me.”

“They are our sacred mountains. It is said they have much of the yellow gold that the white man craves. I know the way through them.”

“How many moons will it take us to cross the mountains?” Joanna wanted to know.

“On horseback, many moons. Walking, three times as long, I think.”

Joanna and Morning Song struggled on through the snow. The way was hard, and many times they fell to their knees, but each time, they rose and pushed onward, setting their sights on the distant mountains as their goal.

In Joanna’s heart there burned a flame. She must not die before she saw Windhawk again. How could she die with so many bad feelings still between them?

Later that afternoon, Morning Song cut the bark from a tree, and she and Joanna ate the tender underside. It didn’t do much to eliminate their hunger, however, and gave them no added strength.

Joanna knew they were both growing weaker with the passing of time. She realized if they didn’t find something to
eat soon, they would both perish. All the elements were against them, and yet they both refused to give up!

Eating only berries they found buried beneath the snow, it took them over two weeks to reach the foothills of the tall mountains. Joanna stood at the base of the mountain, thinking it would be an impossible climb up its stone face.

When they started the climb, it was sometimes so steep that they slid back down the icy slopes. Joanna found herself so weary she wanted to give up, but she knew if she did, they would never make it out of the mountains alive.

The first night in the mountains was the worst. It had turned so bitterly cold that the buffalo robe did little to keep them warm. The wind was blowing so strongly it whipped at the robe and several times blew it away, forcing them to chase after it. Joanna and Morning Song huddled beneath the robe with their teeth chattering.