New-wappy-Te-ah (part five)

New-wappy Te-ah (part five)

Te-ah awoke to her friend’s gentle touch as Kah-o-weep bathed her burning skin with cool water. At first Te-ah said nothing. She simply studied her friend’s eyes and remembered the lifetime they had shared together. Spring mornings, spent running through the meadows and playing children’s games. Summer afternoons of sitting side by side beneath a tree, laughing and singing while they worked. Winter nights, huddled in a wikiup, their hands cold and their bellies crying with hunger.

 

 Like herself, Kah-o-weep was born the spring of the great buffalo kill. As their ancestors had done before them, the Paiute warriors were swift and skillful as they stampeded the huge herd and guided the thundering animals toward a cliff, not far from their village. In their frenzy, the huge animals had been unable to stop when the earth before them fell away into nothingness. With the animals behind pushing at their backs they had fallen, dozens at a time, to their death.

 

Old women still talked about that year. The year when every belly had been full and every wikiup warmed by heavy pelts. But the next year the buffalo did not come. Nor the next.

 

Herds require vast stretches of open grass land to fill their many stomachs. And the grass lands were no more. Eaten up by the white man’s plow and cut apart by his fences. Now Paiute women dug roots from the ground and gathered berries, but there was never enough. Blankets were made from stitching rabbit pelts together, but it took so many – and so much time. Now, even the deer and elk were few in numbers.

 

Paiute warriors, like her father and grandfather were strong and skilled. They could cover many miles on foot and their arrows seldom missed their mark. But every kill had to be transported back to camp and they had no horses.

 

Te-ah heard a whiney and turned her head painfully in the direction of the sound. At the edge of the camp a half dozen of the coveted animals grazed.

 

Horses. These strong graceful creatures were the greatest wealth a tribe could possess. In such difficult times as these, they made the difference between life and starvation, misery or plenty.

 

Kah –o-weep laid aside the water she had used to cleanse Te-ah’s broken skin and slipped a gentle hand behind her friend’s head. Very slowly and with great care she lifted Te-ah’s head enough for her to swallow the broth she spooned between the girl’s split and swollen lips.

 

Daylight had faded into shades of gray. Birds, who had sung their evening songs, settled in for the night and a gentle breeze breathed through the trees. Wisps of smoke from the evening campfires danced heavenward, filling the air with the warm scent of cedar and pine.

In the distance, Ute laughter broke the evening spell. Te-ah closed her eyes and shuddered. These warriors were no stronger or braver than the men of her own tribe, and had been fewer in numbers. But because they rode on the backs of the animals that some still called elk dogs, they had conquered with little effort. Now, she and her brother Pow-inch –  Kah-o-weep too –  would most likely be sold into slavery. All of this because her tribe had no horses.

 

In that moment – sore, beaten, and barely alive – a determination formed within her soul, swelling until it all but consumed her shattered body.

 

 “No. She would not allow herself to be sold into slavery, to be used in whatever manner her buyer desired. Nor would she allow her young brother and her dear friend that same, awful fate.

 

She would watch. She would wait. She would learn.   And when the time was right she would steal these Ute horses. She and her friends would ride away with them and when they returned to their village, the Paiutes would be horseless no longer. “

 

New-wappy Teah (part four)

New-wappy Te-ah (Part Four)

Screaming with fury, the Ute charged toward Te-ah’s helpless form. His reddened eyes smoldered within features so twisted by rage he appeared more demon than human. Then his right leg shot forward, his heel slamming toward her already battered head.

Te-ah threw her arms across her face and drew her legs to her chest in a futile attempt to save herself. Holding her breath and scrunching her swollen eyes closed, she prepared for the assault that would most likely end her life.

“Katz! Katz! (No! no!) Do not harm her. I will set up the tepee and gather the wood.”

The force that fell upon Te-ah was so heavy it knocked her breath away. And it did cause unimaginable pain, but it was not the heel of a Ute warrior’s foot, disconnecting her head from her neck. The body that covered her, now, was protective and strangely familiar.

“Please – She is badly injured. I will work for her.”

The voice belonged to Kah-o-weep. What could she be doing here? The moment the question formed in her mind, Te-ah knew the answer. The Utes had captured her friend as well.

The young warrior, who for some reason, had restrained his attack moments before his foot connected with Te-ah’s head, whirled and began to storm away. But before going far, he turned to shout over his shoulder, “You will do her work until she is better. But I do not know why you should do such a thing. She is a devil.”

Te-ah tried to lift her head and whisper thanks to her friend, but Kah-o-weep laid two fingers across her swollen lips and smiled before saying softly, “Do not talk now. You are badly injured. I will go to set up his tepee and carry wood. I will also prepare the meal while you rest. But when I come back I will bath your wounds and we can talk. You should know that your brother Pow-inch is here as well.”

Before she could attempt to say more, Kah-o-weep was gone. Through swollen eyes, Te-ah watched her friend work to climb the tall lodge poles and attach the skins as the Ute women were doing. Kah-o-weep had a difficult time. She had done nothing like this before. But she kept trying until the job was done. When her friend went inside to prepare the meal, Te-ah fell asleep.

New-wappy Te-ah (part three)

New-wappy Te-ah (part three)

Te-ah opened one swollen eye when a fat drop of water splashed on her cheek. Angry clouds roiled and churned above her and wind whipped her hair about her face. Lightening flashed, thunder rolled and she remembered. She remembered it all.

With a gasp she thrust her body upward, every instinct demanding that she flee. Run as far an as fast as her long legs could carry her. But before her back even cleared the surface on which she lay, searing, white, pain shot through every fiber of her being. She heard a scream rip through the trees, hardly realizing that it was her own.

Te-ah slammed her eyes closed and scrunched them painfully as she bit her lips together. Wave after wave of agony through her body before her torment eased into a dull throb that left her shaking.

The wind died down and rain began to fall in earnest. Around her urgent voices called to one another. Ute voices. Their rough language enough like her own that she could understand a large amount of what was said. The voices were mostly male but she could hear one or two female voices as well.

The swish of a tail above her and the shifting of the rough bed on which lay, led her to believe she was on a travois of some kind. She knew Utes used a travois similar to the ones that she and the other Piaute women pulled when they were on the move.

The Ute travois was larger, however, and pulled by horses. It often carried the tall lodge poles they used to set up their tepees.

Horses made everything in life easier. What might it be like to live in a tall skin covered tepee instead of the squat, brush covered wikiups her people used.

The dry grass beside her rustled. She turned her head to the side and pulled her swollen eyelids open a fraction of an inch. She could just make out the angry face of the warrior she had sliced ear to chin with her knife. His wound lay open, raw and festering. Te-ah turned away from him cringing.

His moccasined foot slammed against the side of the travois, jarring her tormented body until she shrieked. “Get up, you Paiute squaw!” he screamed at her. “Set up the tepee and get wood.”

Squaw! He had called her a squaw. The detestable word white men used to refer to Indian women of all tribes. It was crude and dirty. A woman of her people was called a wyonna, and was respected.

Te-ah turned her eyes to meet his, lifting her chin as she did so, despite the agony that it caused. She gathered all the water she could in her mouth then coughed, bringing up a bloody wad she spit straight at his wretched face.

She missed her target, but the glob popped satisfyingly on the front of his elk skin shirt, sliming it as it ran down.

She wasn’t surprised when the Ute exploded into an avalanche of furry. She had expected it to happen. But her tortured body was unprepared for the agony that came as the Ute’s foot upturned the travois and sent her sprawling into the dirt. Despite her best efforts, Te-ah cried out in anguish.

The angry warrior stormed toward her, his feet swishing through the dry grass. She knew she needed to run. Needed desperately to get away before this mountain of a man put an end to her life. But she could not. She could do nothing but lie in the dirt and sob.

New-wappy Teah (Part Two)

New-wappy Teah (part two)

 

Just cresting a distant rise, a dozen painted warriors thundered toward them. Shrieking the high pitched cry of attack and shaking weapons held high above their heads, each man leaned far forward on his mount and hammered his animal’s sides. 

Ceremonial dress forgotten, Te-ah leapt into action. Mind whirring, her long legs covered the ground between the grove of trees and her families wicki-up.

 The Utes had waited until the most of the Piaute warriors had left to hunt, knowing that only young boys and old men would be left to protect the camp. The hunting party would hear the sounds of attack and come quickly. But they had no horses. They would be too late.

 Te-ah hiked up her skirt almost to the top her thighs and ran hard.

  All about her, chaos reigned. Dogs barked, babies cried and women dashed about the camp screaming names of missing children. A young mother grabbed a naked toddler by the belt she had tied about his waist for such a purpose and ran for the trees. The little one screamed as he swung to and fro but his mother was able to move swiftly, even with a toddler dangling in one hand and a small infant in the other.

  Te-ah darted around them and picked up speed as she neared her family’s wiki-up. There would be no hiding in the trees for her. With most of the able bodied men away on the hunt, she knew well what she must do. Today she would, indeed, fight like a man. It was left to her to defend the camp and her family as her father would have done had he been there.

  Though her friends had laughed at her passion to excel with the bow and arrow, she hoped that today it may save their lives. Her only thought was to retrieve them from her wiki-up and use them with strength and accuracy against the frenzied warriors galloping full speed into their camp.

 Among the men left to protect the camp she spotted her grandfather. He hobbled forward, attempting to run on legs crippled by age, a long spear held high in his hand. At his side ran Pow-inch (Beaver) her younger brother, his eyes wild with fear.

 Te-ah’s breathe caught in her throat.  Pow-inch had only ten summers. How horrible if this was to be his last.

 Her grandfather’s eyes caught hers as she ran past him and he turned to call out, “Hide quickly. They are too many.”

 But Te-ah shook her head and sprinted the last few yards toward her wiki-up where found her mother hurrying out of the door. With one hand, the older woman pushed Te-ah’s bow and arrows toward her, while with the other, she reached down to swoop up Cam-mo, (black tailed rabbit) Te-ah’s younger sister.

Their eyes met for the briefest of moments, a hundred words passing between them in the splinter of time that would be their last together. Then they both were gone. As her mother ran desperately toward the trees, papoose board on her back and wailing Cam-mo clutched to her chest, Te-ah turned to face the fast approaching enemy.

Arrows were already flying and several men from the tiny group of defenders fell to the ground. Te-ah watched in horror as a grotesquely painted warrior astride a black and white horse detached himself from the group and rode straight at her grandfather and Pow-inch.

Without even breaking stride, she reached back, withdrew an arrow, notched it and let it fly. It whirred through the air and imbeded itself in the Ute warrior’s chest just as his tomahawk came down on her grandfather’s head. When her second arrow hit the Ute, he was already dead.

Like a stone dropping from a ledge, the painted warrior toppled from his horse, and landed heavily on top of the old man, pinning him to the ground.

  Not fully understanding what had happened, Pow-inch jumped on the warrior, knife in hand. But as his blade penetrated the dead Indians back, he was lifted off his feet by the strong arms of another painted warrior. With a mighty sweep of his arm the fierce looking brave dragged the boy, kicking and screaming, onto his own horse with him.

Close enough, now, to see the ugly sneer spread across the man’s painted face, Te-ah did not dare to shoot another arrow for fear of hitting her brother. Instead she ran straight at him, her own knife fisted and slashing wildly.

 Both hands occupied with a struggling ten year old. The warrior could only kick at Te-ah. On the third slash her knife found its mark, slicing through the Ute’s leather leggings and deep into the flesh of his thigh. Blood spurted out, drenching her hand and the horses flesh as the brave screamed and kicked at her.

 Te-ah grabbed the Ute’s horse by the bridle strap and raised her arm to strike again. But before her hand could come down a second time she was jerked away by strong arms.

 She twisted to find, not one but three Utes attempting to restrain her.

 “I will die before I let you take me,” she screamed as she slashed at them with her knife, feeling it sink into flesh again and again. Near blind with rage, now, and she rammed her knee into groins and jabbed her elbows into ribs. Her knife slashed a face from ear to chin and her teeth severed an ear. Still, they came at her, more warriors entering the struggle until there were half a dozen or more.

 Once they had knocked her knife to the ground, they grabbed her hands and tied them together with leather strips. Still she kicked and jabbed with her elbows. Again and again her teeth found soft flesh and the taste of blood filled her mouth.

 But when, at last, they succeeded in tying her feet, she was almost helpless. The large Ute whose face she had cut with her knife, threw her onto his horse and tied her hands and feet together with a leather strip that extended under the horse’s belly.

 One look at her grandfather crumpled body lying bloody and broken on the ground, however, sent a fresh wave of fury through her body and soul. With all the strength she could muster, Te-ah jammed her knees into the animal’s soft belly while she hammered his ribs with her laced fists on his oposite side.

 The animal reared and then started to buck. Te-ah’s body slammed back and forth several times before sliding beneath the horse’s belly. The last thing she saw before the world went black was two powerful hooves flying toward her tethered body.

 (to be continued)

New-wappy Teah (snow Deer) part one

New-wappy Te-ah (Snow Deer)

“He’s looking at you.”

 Te-ah’s fingers froze. The bone needle suddenly became clumsy in her hands and she could no longer find the hole she had bored in the elks tooth.

The older women grinned and clucked their tongues while her friends, Moo-chick and Kah O-weep, giggled and poked her with their elbows.

 “He is so handsome. Just look at him standing there in the sun.”

She couldn’t help herself. Te-ah stole a quick glance at the well-muscled warrior from beneath her lashes and her cheeks warmed at the sight of him. She quickly dropped her eyes to the doe skin dress in her lap. “Be quiet,” she warned as she pulled sinew through the soft leather and then through the elk tooth she was attaching to it. “He’ll see us watching him.”

“Why should that matter?  He is watching you?” Her friends laughed.

 Any other day she would have ground their faces into the grass for such behavior. But today she merely glared at their impertinence and stole another sideways glance at the handsome brave who stood just a few yards away, starring conspicuously at her.

Head held high, with his raven black hair falling across his broad copper shoulders, Quan-a-tich was fine, indeed. Every girl of marriageable age had watched him with eager eyes for years. But it had been at her wickiup door, that he had left the pile of buffalo robes.

Moo-chick rolled her dark eyes. “Such a great price he paid for you. Didn’t he know your father would have taken three rabbit pelts for you?  Who else would want to marry the girl who can fights like a man?”

Te-ah lifted her chin and clinched her teeth but said nothing.

In that moment, Quan-a-tich caught her eyes in his strong gaze and nodded briefly before breaking into a trot, easily reaching the hunting party that had out distanced him.

“That one doesn’t need to worry about a woman’s strength,” Kah O-weep said as she peeked at Te-ah out of the corner of her eye. “He is strong as a bear.”

Moo-chick paused from her task of smearing pitch inside the cooking basket she was making, “You’re almost finished with your dress for the ceremony, I think. And just in time. Tomorrow that handsome brave who can’t keep his eyes off you will be your husband.”

Te-ah held up the dress for her friends to see. “Just a few more elk teeth to sew on and it will be finished.” She had worked feverishly from the day her father had accepted Quan-a-tich’s offer, but she could not have finished without the help of her friends and her mother.

The doe skin had been smoked and then worked with their teeth until it felt soft as a flower petal. They had died porcupine quills for decorations and fringed the bottom to match her knee-high leggings. The elk teeth she was sewing on now were the finishing touches. She was almost ready.

Moo-chick and Kah-o-weep smiled broadly, their eyes dancing, “You will be beautiful. And Quan-a-tich will be proud.”  

“Do you think so? I’m so nervous.”

“Does the sun come up in the Morning? Of course he will. And we’ll be proud too, because we’re you’re friends.” Kah O-weep said and Moo-chick nodded.

“If I am beautiful it will be because you helped me make this dress. When the ceremony is over I’ll help you with whatever you like.”

Kah-o-weep looked up from the skin she was scraping and smiled. “That’s a good thing, because I have been thinking I might make this skin into a cradle board.”

For a moment there was silence, then, the quiet afternoon erupted like a bee-tree with a bear inside it.

“It hasn’t been many moons since your own ceremony. Are you sure?”

Kah O-weep smiled and nodded as the women crowed around her. “ I will tell Pah-rant tonight.”

When, at last, the chatter melted back into a sleepy buzz, Te-ah leaned against a tree and sang softly to herself as she sewed one elk tooth after another onto the dress she could hardly believe she would be wearing tomorrow night.

The afternoon was warm. Te-ah didn’t realize that she had fallen asleep until alarmed voices from the camp caused her eyes to fly open. She was on her feet instantly, searching the horizon.

It only took a moment for her to locate the source of  terror surrounding her. “Utes!”

Just cresting a distant rise, a dozen mounted warriors thundered toward them, shaking weapons held high above their heads. Their hideous faces were painted for war.  Each man leaned far forward and hammered his animals sides as he shrieked out the high pitched cry of attack.

Ceremonial dress forgotten, Te-ah leapt into action like the deer she had been named for. As her long legs covered the ground between the groove in which she and her friends and been working and her families wickiup, her mind whirred.

The Utes had waited until the most of the Piaute warriors had left to hunt. They knew there would only be young boys and old men left to protect the camp. The Piaute warriors would hear the sounds of the attack and come quickly. But they had no horses. They would be too late.