Silken Savage (18 page)

In turn, this made Tanya’s responsibilities heavier. Now that her husband was a chief, there were added duties to perform. Others had often sought his advice before, but they did so more now that Panther’s authority was greater. The influx of visitors to their tipi doubled, and it was up to Tanya to see they were offered something to eat and drink. If there was a celebration or festivity of some sort, Tanya had to help organize the preparations and the serving of food. When visitors from other tribes arrived, she had to see to their lodging and comforts, and when the warriors prepared for a raid or a hunt their provisions had to be readied. The welfare and comfort of lesser persons of the tribe had to be seen to, and help offered if need be.

Tanya suddenly found herself with more responsibilities than her condition would allow, and she was very happy when Melissa returned to their lodge, well, and willing to help.

Melissa, for all her problems, was healthier now than Tanya had seen her look in months. She was relieved to be rid of Ugly Otter’s baby.

“If I ever have children, I want it to be because I want and will love them, not because they were forced upon me by a brutal man’s lust,” she told Tanya.

As the weeks went by, Melissa seemed more content, if not happy. She enjoyed Tanya’s company and the comforts she was offered in her household. Whether or not she would ever be truly happy after what she had experienced at Ugly Otter’s hands, she did not know, but she had started to smile again.

Perhaps it was because they were not so busy and had more time to spend together, but over that frozen winter, love bloomed between Shy Deer and Winter Bear. It was nearly comical to see him almost literally puff up and strut when she was near. Shy Deer in her own quiet way beguiled him endlessly. Her large doe-eyes adored him openly and he worshipped the ground she walked upon. Both found limitless reasons to be in Panther’s tipi when the other was present.

Unable to stand it any longer, Winter Bear approached Shy Deer’s father, and the marriage was planned for spring. Winter Bear glowed with pride that Shy Deer had accepted him. The rest of the winter, they were like two children with their noses pressed against the windowpane of a candy store, Tanya thought, waiting for the owner to unlock the door.

Early in March, just when Tanya was praying for winter to be over soon, a terrible storm roared down on them. It started with a freezing rain that coated everything in sight with a thick layer of ice. Shelters had to be erected for the horses, and Tanya felt useless as she watched Panther and Winter Bear work in the frigid rain.

Even Melissa lent her hand, bundling up in thick furs to venture out. Tanya, nearly ready to deliver her child, could do no more than prepare warm broth for them, keep the fire going inside the tipi, and dry and warm their clothing.

Behind the rain came the snow, driven by the strongest winds Tanya had ever experienced. Visibility was limited to inches, and drifts twenty feet high and more piled up around them. The weight of the ice caused the lodge poles to creak and groan under the strain, and a couple of tipis actually collapsed as the poles snapped.

One of the tipis that collapsed was the birthing lodge, where all Cheyenne women went to give birth to their children, away from their husbands. An older woman of the tribe tended her, and the new mother remained there until she was fully recovered. Only then did she return to her husband’s lodge with her child.

Tanya had regretted this, and felt it was providence that had stepped in just at this time. No sooner had the birthing lodge collapsed, then Tanya’s labor started. With everyone bustling about trying to shelter the animals, and prevent other tipis from falling, she said nothing. Quietly she prepared her bed and the baby’s. She laid out clothing for her child and herself, set a kettle of water to boil, sterilized a sharp knife, and made sure everything she might need was close at hand. Then she sat down to wait, contentedly stroking her stomach and smiling secretly to herself.

The storm was still raging long after the last of the daylight had disappeared. The Cheyenne had done all they could to protect their animals and brace their structures against the elements. Now they dragged themselves wearily into their tents to renew their strength and wait out the storm.

Tanya had a warm meal and dry clothing awaiting both Panther and Melissa. She was well into her labor by the time they straggled in. She lay on her fur covered pallet, rubbing her stomach in soothing circular motions, waiting out a contraction.

“Missy, I hate to ask you, but could you serve Panther his meal this evening?” she asked from the corner.

Melissa groaned, but complied readily.

Panther came to the bed and reached for his dry clothes. “Your mother asked about you. She said not to venture out on the ice to visit. She doesn’t want you to fall and hurt yourself.”

“Is everything pretty well in order now? No one was hurt when the lodges collapsed, were they?” Tanya queried.

Panther sat down next to her, taking the bowl Melissa brought for him, “The tipis that fell cannot be repaired until the storm lets up. Starling had his leg pinned by his lodge pole, but Root Woman has set it and it will heal. No one else was hurt, but several have fallen on the ice. Root Woman has been busy all day setting bones and healing lumps, cuts, and scrapes. You should see the knot on Towering Pine’s head. It looks like an antler!”

Tanya, in the grip of another spasm could only grunt an answer.

Panther swung his startled gaze toward her. “Wildcat! How long have you been in labor?”

Tanya panted and tried to catch her breath. As the pain receded, she said on a long sigh, “Most of the day.”

“And you said nothing?” He was incredulous.

“You and the others were busy and needed elsewhere, Panther. Women have babies all the time. Don’t fret.”

“This is
my
baby we are talking about and it is very important to me! My child is arriving into the world and you do not think it necessary to tell me?” he railed.

“Don’t scold me now, Panther,” she grated out through yet another contraction. “Not …now.”

Sweat poured down her face as she clenched her teeth and fists against the pain. When it had passed, she continued, “Panther, find something to do, please. You are ruining my concentration. I am trying to bring your son into the world, and it is no easy job!”

Panther’s indignation dissolved as he watched her through the contraction. “You must have someone to help you, as you would have had in the birthing lodge. I will go for Root Woman.”

Tanya shook her head. “No!” she panted. “It is too late. Stay, or you will miss the birth of your first child. By the time you get to her tipi and back, the deed will be done.”

Melissa, who had been standing quietly by all the while, spoke up. “I will help you, Tanya.” She wet a cloth and sponged Tanya’s face and neck. “Tell me what to do. You are the one who took all the instructions from Root Woman.”

Tanya ground her teeth together. “Help me out of this dress. It is soaking with sweat and getting cold.”

Melissa and Panther together got the dress off of her and dried her. At Tanya’s instruction, they piled robes up behind her back to prop her up. Panther tied knots in two lengths of deerhide and put them in Tanya’s clenched hands. The other ends he gave to Melissa, and told Tanya to pull on these as she bore down.

“Scream if you want to, little one,” he told her, “if it will make you feel better.” His dark eyes were full of love and pity at her suffering.

“Cheyenne women do not scream during childbirth, Panther,” she grunted.

“I’m sure some do,” he assured her. “Besides, no one will hear you over this howling wind, and I certainly will not tell anyone, nor will Melissa.”

Tanya was too far into her pain to hear or understand these last words. The pains had changed suddenly, and now she had an uncontrollable urge to bear down. The pain was constant now, giving her little time to catch her breath.

“My feet keep slipping,” she panted a complaint. “Brace my feet.”

Propped up from behind, with the rawhide strips to pull on and Panther holding onto her knees and bracing her feet, Tanya strained with her labor. Her stomach constricted in agony, as though a thousand white-hot knives were piercing her.

Between her knees, Panther knelt and hurt for her. He lightly stroked her stomach, trying to ease her misery and murmured quiet encouragements to her, hoping the tone of his voice, if not the words, would help.

Just as Tanya thought she would be torn apart by the pressure and pain, she heard Panther say, “I see the head! Bear down with the next pain!”

Taking a deep breath, Tanya did just that, as Panther helped to guide the baby’s body out.

“One more good push,” he instructed from below.

Once more she obeyed nature’s urgings and heard Panther exclaim, “It’s a boy! We have a son!”

As Tanya caught her wind, Panther cleared the baby’s airways, and the child gave a mighty bellow.

Grinning from ear to ear. Panther gently laid his son on Tanya’s belly. In awe, she reached down and touched his wet, downy head. Eyes full of wonder, she looked at Panther. “Oh, Panther, he’s so beautiful!”

“Handsome,” he corrected with a smile.

“Hadn’t we better get him cleaned up so he can have his dinner?” Melissa suggested, her eyes suspiciously wet.

Panther cut and tied the cord as if he’d been delivering babies all his life. Then he cleaned the child with warm water and dressed him while Melissa helped Tanya. He left to dispose of the afterbirth after seeing the babe settled at Tanya’s breast.

His son was wide awake, cuddled contentedly in Tanya’s arms, when he returned. He sat down next to them, where he could see both their faces.

“Aren’t all babies supposed to be born with blue eyes?” Tanya questioned. “I thought I heard that somewhere.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because his are gold,” she replied. “Look. See for yourself.”

Panther leaned forward and gazed into his son’s eyes. They were, indeed, gold. “He has his mother’s eyes, just as I’d hoped,” he said.

“And his father’s blue-black hair,” Tanya added. “He has the coloring of the panther,” she grinned, “moreso than even you do. With this hair and those gold eyes, the Panther’s son ought truly to be a hunter of the forest.”

Stroking her flushed cheek, Panther said softly, “You have just given me the name for our son.”

Tanya’s eyes questioned him.

“We shall call him Hunter of the Forest,” he told her.

Tanya smiled and sighed tiredly. “I like it. It is a good, strong name, and he will grow strong and tall like his father, whom I love very much.”

Panther’s lips pressed hers in a brief kiss. “Thank you for my son, Little Wildcat. Now you must rest, for you have worked harder today than any of us.” Tanya’s eyes were already closing as she heard him add, “I love you, Little Wildcat — and you, too, Hunter of the Forest.”

HUNTER OF the Forest was a beautiful, healthy baby. Along with his thick mop of black hair, unusual gold eyes, and cherubic face, he had a cheerful personality. He almost never fussed, and rarely had to be stopped from crying. Like all Cheyenne babies, he was quickly taught not to cry aloud. Each time he attempted to do so, Tanya closed his jaws and pinched his nostrils shut, momentarily cutting off his air. In a short time he learned not to cry. Cruel as it seemed, it was a necessary lesson, for a crying infant could be heard for miles, scaring off game and alerting enemies to one’s position.

Panther had gone early the next morning to inform Black Kettle and Woman-To-Be-Hereafter of the baby’s arrival. Black Kettle was elated to hear of his first grandson’s birth, and a celebration was planned for later in the month when the weather would better allow it. Contrary to all tradition, he visited his newly born grandson that same day in Panther’s tipi and heartily approved the name Panther had chosen.

Tanya had broken tradition by having her child in her own tipi instead of the birthing tent. Under the circumstances, it could not be helped. Nevertheless, the shaman was now called upon to perform purification rites over Panther and his lodge, especially since Panther had helped deliver his son himself. Only after the shaman had completed his ritual did anyone venture near the tipi, for the old taboos handed down for centuries were not soon laid to rest.

Not many years before, any woman having her monthly flow or still bleeding after giving birth was secluded from the tribe in a special tipi. No warrior could come in contact with her or eat food prepared by her at this time. Only after she stopped bleeding could she resume her normal routine. This was not because a woman was considered unclean at this time, but because she was thought to possess powerful spirits that could adversely affect a warrior’s guardian spirit and possibly cause him to be hurt or killed in battle.

These days, because game was sometimes scarce and tribes had to travel so often, this was nearly impossible to adhere to, so the rules had been relaxed. Women having their flow were no longer shunned, but they still could not prepare a warrior’s meal, handle his weapons, or lie with their husbands. They still went to the birthing lodge to have their babies, but were allowed to return to their own tipis within days.

Though tired, Tanya recovered quickly. For a first child, her labor had been extraordinarily short and easy. Within hours, her milk came in, and Hunter of the Forest was nursing hungrily at her breasts. By the time the village had recovered from the ice storm, Tanya was back to her regular duties in the lodge.

She and Panther were both privately glad that he had been present for the birth of his son. It was one of the most fantastic experiences of his life, and he wouldn’t have missed it for the world. To watch his son’s entrance into the world, to aid in it, was worth more than gold to Panther. To see Wildcat’s face light up with love and awe as he placed Hunter on her stomach, was a priceless tabloid indelibly imprinted on his soul.

Following the storm, there was a sudden break in the weather. The air turned balmy and held the smell of spring to it. The celebration to honor Hunter’s birth was held, and the drums beat out the news; Black Kettle’s grandson was born.