Crow Captive!

Southeastern Montana Territory– 1870 - Upper Yellowstone River valley – Apsaroke Crow Nation lands.

Washnepepiccewa (Wash-NAY-peh-PEECH-eh-wah) (Spotted Elk) struggled to pick her way through the camp from the riverbank, the heavy burden of the yoke on her shoulders making the walk more difficult. Suspended from each end of the yoke was a large buffalo stomach, preserved for use as a water skin. As she made her way to Black Wolf’s lodge where the prisoner was being kept, she reflected on the situation.

She had been scraping a buffalo hide with an elk bone scraper, preparing it for use in making a winter robe for White Buffalo, the man of the lodge she shared with Two Otters as a second woman. That meant that she did the majority of the work, except for the times when her medicine skills were needed, like now. White Buffalo had come, telling her to bring water and her medicine kit to tend to the strange white man that the warriors of the Red Hand Society had captured the day before.

Something must have changed in the way they thought of him, she mused. The warriors had brought him in after capturing him during a hunting trip. As usual, the women and children of the People had gathered around to whip at him with switches and taunt him with thrown rocks, insults, and horse dung. It was the way of the People, to treat their enemies in such a manner. It was a way to release some of the ever-growing tensions caused by the changes in their world that they couldn’t understand.

Where once their enemies had been the Shoshone, Lakota Sioux, Cheyenne, and even the Blackfeet, now even their enemies all agreed the biggest threat was from the whites. Even now, to the east, Red Cloud led the Sioux and some of the Northern Cheyenne against the whites in his war.

And so the women and children of the village acted out in the only way they could, the lone white man being a symbol of his entire race for them to lash out at. The warriors themselves would not strike at him, not until it was decided to kill him in whatever way the leader of the Red Hand Society would determine. Such a practice was unfit for warriors to engage in with an unarmed enemy; there was no honor in it. But they wouldn’t refuse the cruel sport pursued by the women and children.

Spotted Elk never participated in those practices herself. She remembered all too well the way she herself had been treated when she was captured from the Shoshone and brought back to be White Buffalo’s second woman. Two Otters had hated her in the beginning, but over time they came to an understanding, and now they got along well enough.

But if she was being called on to tend to his wounds; the fate of the white man must have changed. Everyone knew it could be bad medicine to kill a white man, depending on who he turned out to be and how important he was to his people. Such a thing was not done rashly, and she had overheard some of the warriors in council the night before when she brought them some food.

That this white man traveled alone in their territory, and was unafraid, spoke of the possibility that he had powerful spirits or medicine at his command. And that he came at this time, when they were preparing for the ceremony to ensure victory in their upcoming raid against the miners camped on the Bighorn, could be a sign of some kind. They would wait to find out more about him before they decided whether to kill him, and how to do it. They would wait for the return of Black Wolf, leader of the Red Hand Society. It would be his decision to make.

Spotted Elk made her way past the painted lodges of the camp, to the lodge erected beneath the spreading cottonwood tree. On her back she had her medicine pack strapped, just beneath the yoke across her shoulders. Her doeskin dress was decorated with elaborate quill work, and sported long fringes that brushed the ground when she walked. The dress was belted at the waist, and a sheathed knife was fastened at the small of her back. Around her neck she wore two necklaces of elk teeth and cobalt blue glass trade beads. Her feet were adorned by ankle high moccasins, with knee length leggings above, also ornately decorated with matching quillwork.

She was a natural beauty, with large dark doe like eyes that seemed perpetually to shine with a spark of intelligence and curiosity. Long natural lashes gave her a fetching look. Her long raven hair fell over each shoulder in two long braids. Her coppery skin stretched firmly over high cheekbones just below her slightly slanting eyes. She had a face that was ready to smile at a moment’s notice, despite the usual stoic expression that was common to the People, especially around strangers.

The lone warrior guarding the lodge opened the flap for her to sidle her way through the opening to the lodge, threading the heavy yoke through carefully so as not to spill the water that she had fetched so far from the river. Her eyes adjusted to the darker interior of the tipi, and she saw the white man lying on a pallet of furs at the far side of the lodge.

The guard from outside followed her inside and crossed to the side of the captive, cutting the rawhide thong that bound his hands, then went to stand just inside the opening, watching to make sure the captive didn’t try to escape while he was being tended to.

Spotted Elk lowered the yoke and water bladders carefully to the ground, then took a soft absorbent rabbit skin from her pouch and wet it. She knelt by the side of the man, reaching out to swab at the bruises and cuts on his face. At first, she saw the slightest flinch in his eyes as a hint of the pain he felt at her touch, just enough to make her treat him more tenderly. But as quickly as it appeared, he suppressed any more indication of his pain. It bespoke well of him, as a man and as a warrior of the whites.

She looked upon his features with open curiosity and some admiration for the bravery he was showing under the circumstances. Whatever his fate was to be, he intrigued her at the moment. She reached again for his battered face, more gently this time. When his eyes looked up to meet hers, she was struck by their color and for the briefest of moments, she forgot to lower her gaze demurely. Her lapse in manners brought the flush to her face, and her already coppery skin colored even darker and redder than before.

She mentally chided herself to keep her eyes on what she was doing as her ministrations spread to his neck. She could tell from this close that he had more wounds under his clothing. She turned to tell the warrior on guard that she needed the captive to take off his shirt.

To the captive’s surprise, he detected a familiarity to her accent. It sounded similar to the dialect of the Shoshone tribe he had spent time with years before. Her words were those of the language of the Crow, but the lilt of her accent made him wonder if he could remember enough to communicate with her.

((I do appolgize if my response is not as long.))

The captive's name was Jackson Gallows, the white man that was bound within the lodge..he still dirtied and cut from the treatment he received from the citizens ..he could not hold anything against them, especially the children. Though he was not one of the white men who he imagined that came through the Indian wars that was growing into a bloody fever pitch.It was recently that they began to take up arms and hostile.

Jackson kept to himself during his capture, but spoke when he needed to. He showed no hostility or harsh responses to the words and tone people gave to him, though he only roughly understood, but could not speak. He's traveled and protected white traders as a gun for hire as they made the few rare friendly contacts, so he picked up on the tongue.

As Spotted Elk entered the room, his bright green eyes looked to her..they were the eyes of a solder, a man who's fought many battles in his life time..the scars and stress within his body and face, as well as the thick beard that grew betrayed his younger age. As his wrists was released they immediately went to rub along the red raw wounds, coated with a light dirt. As she slowly tended to his wounds he tried to keep still and calm regardless of the stings from his wounds, mostly out of fear that the guard would see it as a attempt to escape. When she asked the guard to remove his shirt, he paused..he recognized that dialect of Shoshone..something he was far more familiar with..but very basic. The guard nodded in confirmation to her question, as Jackson began to do so. he undoing the white ragged shirt he had. His chest had scars of cuts and gashes along with fresh ones. The most distinct being a very pronounced scar of a rope around his neck, which gave a damning hint of his reasons of why he was hiding out in their land..

Spotted Elk tried unsuccessfully to stifle a gasp of astonishment at the sight of the many scars on the white man’s body. It was no wonder he could suppress his pain so well. He was used to it. She peered closely at the strange looking scar around his neck. She had never seen a man hanged before, and wasn’t familiar enough with the white ways to know that was how they killed people who broke their laws.

She turned to the guard; a young warrior named Drowning Bear, and pointed out the scar, asking him about it. He replied, but Jackson couldn’t understand the words that either of them spoke. Their conversation was in the Crow tongue, but that they were speaking about him was obvious. Spotted Elk gestured to the scar on his neck. Drowning Bear came over closer and leaned down for a look. He gestured too and spoke something to her, apparently in explanation.

Her eyes widened in a look of horror and disgust upon hearing Drowning Bear’s words. He returned to his place by the door flap as she wet the rabbit skin again and prepared to bathe and treat the white man’s many wounds. As she prepared her herbal poultices, she muttered under her breath in her native Shoshone language. This time Jackson understood.

“These white men must not be people! They are barbaric to tie each other up by the neck like animals! Don’t they know how to kill an enemy with honor?” Even if he hadn’t understood her words, there could be no mistaking her tone of disgust at what she had seen and what Drowning Bear had told her.

Drowning Bear spoke in admonishment to her, apparently upset that she spoke in Shoshone and not in his own language. She snapped back at him, her feelings still affecting her, and gestured for him to leave. He gave the captive a scowl as a warning, then waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Haaa!” he said before leaving the tipi.

After watching him go, Spotted Elk returned to making her medicine. She lit a twist of sweetgrass to smolder and smoke, and waved the smoke over the body of the white man, purifying him. After a few minutes of this, she returned to bathing him gently, speaking to him in Shoshone, even though she thought he couldn’t understand her. “Well white man, they may decide to kill you soon, but for now I am to care for you and make you well enough to face your death. At least you won’t be tied around your neck like a dog. Not even the Crow are so cruel! They will give you a death befitting an enemy.”

“I wonder what I should call you, hmm? Maybe ‘Many Scars’? Or how about ‘Rope Chokes Throat’?” She could almost smile grimly at her made up silly names, except for the knowledge of how earning such names must have pained him. What had this man endured, and at so young an age? The thought made her pause in swabbing at the cuts on his chest and ribs, and despite her earlier resolve to keep her eyes on her work, she let her soft brown eyes drift upwards to meet his, so sparkling green. Hers reflected pity and compassion. His seemed to captivate her with their even gaze.

She met that gaze with her own, locked to his even as she reached again to swab at his wounds. There was something about his eyes that held her. The fingers of her other hand reached out to lightly touch the scar at his throat and she couldn’t help her involuntary shiver. When her eyes returned to his, the tears of pity made them shine.

Jackson watches the interaction, he keeping silent as he counted his lucky stars that he was still alive. He's lived through the bloodiest battles of the civil war, survived a attempted hanging for desertion, and the frontiers beyond the Mississippi..he was not a religious man, but only luck could take you so far..

AS he felt her wash him he paused..hearing her speak in Shoshone..he began to search through his mind for his words..he could speak it..but it would be very butchered..he'd been told he sounded almost like a child speaking out simple words..funny that his English was fluent and proper to make the most posh English man jealous.

Jackson kept silent as he felt the gentle touches along his scared body..the earned knife cuts, stabs, bayonet wounds, a round and jagged one at his sholder from a rifle slug. When her brown eyes looked into his, they had a chill to them..eyes similar to the older, experienced warriors..who have brushed death so much, it almost seemed proper and polite to give him a respectful greeting as he passed by.

He shivered from the slight touch to his rope scar before he began to spoke..it was slow and steady, a southern drawl laced within..the man's voice soft and gentle, contrasting the scared exterior."Why..sad?" He spoke, the sentence broken..

Spotted Elk didn’t think he could understand her words. She felt pity for the pain he had been through, and how it had left him marked, on his flesh and in his eyes. When he spoke to her, even though it was only two words, her mouth opened slightly and her eyes widened in surprise to hear her own language coming from him. What he said made her aware of the tears and she quickly wiped them away, embarrassed that she’d let him see her emotion.

She composed her face in a neutral mask, but glanced up into his eyes again, appraisingly. There was more to this white man than met the eyes. Maybe he did have powerful medicine. He must have had something to have been able to survive all the pain in his life.

She hesitated to answer. She knew the guard wouldn’t approve of her talking to this prisoner, but he had spoken to her in her own language, even if his words were halting and broken. She felt he deserved an answer, and the chance to talk to anyone in her own native tongue was welcome after living among the Crow for so many years. She glanced quickly at the door flap to make sure they were alone. Then she scooted closer to him and spoke softly, in low tones so as not to be overheard.

“You speak Shoshone. I was Shoshone before they brought me here. I like hearing my people’s words coming from you. You ask me why I am sad, white man. My tears come because I see that you’ve suffered much. I don’t understand why. Did your own people do these things to you? Not all of this suffering was caused by Crow women and children.”

He paused as he watched her reaction, she growing hard again..he frowned a bit at that..her warmth was a welcome change he watching her actions as she looked for the gaurd and then scooch back next to her to speak. He listened to her words before he spoke "Give..moment..need..remember..words..explain.."
Within his mind he thought before he spoke again to her

"I..have..fought..many...battle. Enemy..like..me. Every..mark..from..them." He spoke at the same hushed down she did he keeping the eye contact..it feeling so good to actually commune with a someone after being lost within the tongue. "I..almost..killed..by..rope..when..I..attempt..make
peace...they..not..succeed." He speaking..remembering the last days of the civil war, more and more regiments were surrendering after Robert E Lee, but Jackson's Major refused effectually taking his company and still fought until every last one was killed..besides Jackson. He suggested to take the surrender and he was almost hung for treason..luckily the guy who strung him up didn't do it right..his breathing was off but he lived because of the botch up.

After a breif moment he began to speak again "..Am..I..going..die? Can..you..help..me?" He spoke in sincerity, he wanting to of course safe his own life..but maybe get to know this spotted dear more..learn enough Shoshone so he did not sound like a child. "Will..face..death..if..to..
be..but..any..way..prevent?"

Spotted Elk listened intently as the white man spoke the words of her people, albeit slowly and haltingly. She smiled slightly when he asked for time to search for the words to explain. He was trying at least. It was something. And it was nice to hear the words of her own language after so long hearing only the Crow tongue.

He explained about how he had earned the many wounds that had left their mark on his body. She thought he must be a very good warrior, especially for a white man, to have survived so much against so many enemies. She wasn't sure, but she thought he was saying that his enemies had been white men, like himself.

As she listened to him, she thought she was being terribly impolite, because she kept forgetting herself, not keeping her eyes downcast. She kept lifting her gaze to look into those strangely colored eyes of his, that compelling gaze that seemed to make her want to look. There was a sad resignation there, a knowledge of suffering and hurt far beyond what his years should account for.

Among most bands of the People, it was considered very rude to look directly into another's eyes, especially for a woman to look at a man that way. It was like a challenge, disrespectful. It was a behavior trait that would make many white people think of the indians as shifty and untrustworthy. Among whites, looking someone in the eye when you spoke to them was a sign of honesty, of having nothing to hide. It was just one cultural difference that spelled many tragic consequences as the two races clashed.

He told her of the strange scar around his neck, of how his own people had tried to take his life in so barbaric a fashion for wanting to make peace. Her doe eyes, once again on his in spite of it being poor manners, widened in astonishment, and she gave a little gasp. Of all the things he had been through, that was the hardest thing for her to understand. She was accustomed to warriors who had earned scars in battle. She'd even seen the scars of the ritual sacrifice that brave men had earned in the Sun Dance ceremony, giving of their own suffering to please the spirits, for the good of the people. But to have earned so grisly a scar for trying to make peace was a thing unheard of.

She wondered if that was the reason for his voice sounding the way it did. Besides his unfamiliarity with the language, (it was clear he hadn't spoken the words in a long time) there was also the strange rhythm of his breathing, and the flinty quality of his voice.

He had paused then, seemingly lost in memories of another place in time. Spotted Elk started her ministrations again, cleaning and treating his cuts and abrasions. A warrior who had survived so much worse hardly needed such care, she mused. It was almost a joke. But she had been sent here to care for him, and she would.

He spoke again just then, asking a question that made her stop what she was doing and look back into those eyes. "Am..I..going..die? Can..you..help..me?"

She looked away quickly, lest he see her thoughts betrayed in her eyes. She shook her head slightly, almost more to herself than in answer to him. In the moment he had asked her, she thought of the possibility of helping this man, of perhaps persuading him to take her back to her own people. To even think of doing so could mean death for both of them. No matter if she belonged to White Buffalo; he would kill her himself. He had taken her in a raid on her people to be a second wife for him, to bear him sons, since he couldn't get any with Two Otters. But in the five years she had been living with them, she still had not become pregnant.

Recently, he had stopped coming to her in the furs at night. He would never believe that it might be his seed that was the problem. He was probably already planning to take another woman, either in a raid or buying one with many ponies. He would no doubt try to find a woman who already had a child, or was with child. It would be the only way he could be sure she could produce what he needed.

But no matter how she had come to be living among the Crow, she knew that helping this white man would be the same as betraying them, and it would mean death.

"Will..face..death..if..to..be..but..any..way..prevent?"

His words brought her back to herself in the moment. He was obviously a brave man, but even a brave man didn't want to have to die if it wasn't necessary. She answered slowly. She wanted him to understand her. "You were captured by members of the Red Hand Warrior Society. Black Wolf is their leader. It is in his lodge you rest now. He is away from camp, but he will return, and when he does, he will decide what will happen to you. Most likely, you will be killed. But you have powerful medicine to have survived so many enemy wounds. It will not be easy for them to kill you."

She rose and went to the water skins, bringing back a drink of cool water in a hollowed out buffalo horn cup. She knelt by his side again and held the cup to his lips for him to drink. While he drank, she continued, "Until Black Wolf returns you will not be harmed. I have been sent to give comfort to you and make you well. Drink now. I'll bring meat to cook for you. You must get your strength back. You will need it soon."

She held the cup for him until he felt up to taking it himself. As she watched him drink, she thought about the chance of helping him escape and getting him to take her to her people. It made her wonder how he knew her language. Had he known the Shoshone before?

She remembered many years ago, when she was still a girl, there was a white man who came to trade with her father, Dragging Horse. He was hardly more than a boy but he was not afraid to travel alone in their territory, and he had proven his bravery to her father. Eventually he was welcomed among them for a summer. He hunted with the men, and feasted with the tribe on the meat he had helped them procure. That was the only other white man she had ever seen.

"What should I call you, white man? How do you know the words of my people? You speak them slowly, but better than I have heard them since I came to live with the Crow people. It pleases me to hear them again. I would like to make the talk with you more, if you feel well enough."

Jackson silently nodded in response to the girl..he would be given a fair chance..that is the life of a Solder..though you place the sword down, it finds ways to be needed again. He took the cup she offered him and softly sipped it, drinking the cool, refreshing water down, almost eagerly from his lack of water during his trip. He paused..confused how she seems to look up at him, then keep his eyes downcasted. Yet, he did not take it personally..

As he heard her response, he gave a slow nod "I see..I..glad..you..help.." he spoke to her as he then paused nodding a bit "I see..at least..given fair chance.." he said as he spoke again "And yes..please.." he paused as he thought through his head "make..food."

He heard her question as he then spoke again "Name..Jackson Gallows..or..what..my..people..call me.." he responded as he pondered
over her question "I..have..trade..with..tribes..why..I know..tounge...don't..recall..mostly was..gaurd.." After a moment he spoke again "I..would like..talk..too..maybe learn..a bit..more..help memory.."

Spotted Elk nodded at his request for food. She rose and searched through the lodge until she found a rawhide bag that she filled with water from one of the skins. She placed it over the fire. It was sewn together in such a way that it was semi permeable, allowing some of the water to seep through, making the outside damp. As long as the outside would be damp, it would not catch fire and would heat the water inside, which even at boiling temperature, would be cool enough to keep the rawhide from igniting.

She opened another parfleche and brought out some strips of dried buffalo meat and dropped them in the skin bag. She added some herbs and wild onions, potatoes, and other ingredients to make a decent stew.

As she worked, her figure moved back and forth, causing the fringe on her dress to sway. Her doeskin dress was supple enough to cling to her curves. The movement of her hips and bottom was quite enticing. She left Jackson to his thoughts as she tended the stew, and when it was ready, she brought some for him in a shallow bowl made from a tortoise shell.

"Here is food, Jack-son. Eat." Her pronunciation of his name made it two separate sounds, but she was not familiar with the names of white men.

Seeing that he had nothing to eat with, she looked to be sure the guard could not see, then she reached behind her, to the small of her back, and pulled out her knife. She hesitated, glancing up to look into his eyes again. This man was a prisoner, and a possible enemy. He might use her own knife to hurt her, or even kill her. But looking into his eyes made her want to trust him. She handed him the knife, putting it into his hand. When their hands touched, she felt a little strange.

She waited quietly while he ate, keeping her eyes demurely downcast.

Jackson nodded, his eyes watched her as she tended to her cooking. The idea of getting a hot meal was very plesant..had to live off of spoiled food and what he could hunt, which was not very much. His green eyes were admiring the young woman in her natural beauty his eyes caressing along her rump, almost counting all the little sways it made.

As she turned around, his green eyes snapped back up composing himself again to that somber but calm man. He watched her bring over the stew he watching her as he gave a soft smile. When she took out her knife, he looking a bit startled, but he then softly nodded, seeing that she was bringing it out so he had something to eat with. He took the knife gently,he gently stroking her hand as they touched "Thank..you." he spoke as he took the knife as he began to eat the stew slowly. He did not mind her calling him that.

As he ate he softly began to speak softly "Tell..me..what..name? How..come..here?" he asked softly he watched her for a moment before he spoke again "you..need not..look away..I like..looking eyes..they..warm..everyone else..cold.." he spoke..her gentle warmth was such a enjoyable difference.

Spotted Elk watched him eat, obviously enjoying the food. It made her happy that he did, for reasons she wasn’t sure of, maybe just to validate her efforts at cooking for him. A healthy appetite was the best compliment.

He asked her name in Shoshone. In a soft shy voice she explained, “When I lived with the Shoshone, I was still young. I was still called by my girl’s name, Morning Dove. When the Crow raided my village and White Buffalo captured me to make me his second woman, he said I needed a proper Crow name. One day when the People were traveling, looking for a winter camp where the game would be plentiful to hunt, I saw a herd of elk and pointed them out to White Buffalo. No one else had seen them yet, I was first. After that day, they call me Spotted Elk, Washnepepiccewah.”

She kept her eyes downcast while she told the story, until Jackson spoke again. "You..need not..look away. I like..looking eyes. They..warm. Everyone else..cold."

She met his gaze then and blushed deeply, but smiled warmly at the compliment, revealing strong, even white teeth contrasted against her flushed lips and blushing skin. Her smile came easily to her face. In her eyes was a spark of humor and interest as she met his eyes. It was still odd for her, and a little uncomfortable. She still had to fight to not look away, and sometimes she still did, but she tried to please him.

She explained how White Buffalo wanted sons, and had none from Two Otters, his wife. That was the reason for him capturing her. But though he tried often at first, she still had not been given the blessing of a child, any child, let alone a son. “Now White Buffalo sees that he has another woman to provide for, and no benefit from it. He is unhappy. He is getting older and his time for raising sons is fading quickly. I don’t know what he will do. Perhaps if he finds another woman to try with, he may offer me as a bride payment, along with a couple ponies and some furs.”

“I miss my own people, and I wish I could go back to them, but what Shoshone man would want me now?”

Jackson kept eating as he listened to her story, he nodding..she was a prisoner like himself..but to be used as a second woman for their leader..but sounded barren..he began to slowly worry..he didn't want anything bad to happen to this beautiful woman..especially if he could look into her eyes and watch her blush. It was more beautiful to him then a blushing southern belle on her wedding day.

"Maybe..I could..help..find home.." he said looking up from his nearly finished stew finishing it. "I..will..if.*****..in..me..spotted elk.." He spoke eyes still on her as he spoke in response "I..take you. Beautiful..like..flower.." he spoke out, a very light blush on his cheeks as he spoke..she had been really gentle to him and she found her very beautiful..her eyes and gentle voice alone renewed his faith in surviving this ordeal.

He offered the knife back he ate with slowly so not to gain the attention of the guard as he softly took her hand when she took the knife back. He stroked the delicate hand softly with a thumb as he looked into her eyes silently, almost longingly..letting them speak on how he had found her beautiful..were woman of his own kind seemed plain, he not wanting to marry.

"Maybe..I could..help..find home.." he said. "I..will..if.*****..in..me..Spotted Elk."

His words brought her attention to his face immediately. She had barely dared to imagine such a thing, and now he offered it, as if he had read her mind. Her eyes showed her confusion at this suggestion, and the whole train of thoughts that passed through her mind. Could she trust this white man, Jack-son? Could he really do what he said? It would be death if they failed. But it might also be the only chance she'd ever get to go home.

"I..take you. Beautiful..like..flower." he spoke.

Her eyes widened as he said these words. She stared openly at him, unable to look away from what she saw in his eyes. Hope and something more leapt in her heart. For the first time in the many years she had been among the Crow, she thought of leaving. This man, who had survived so much, who had such powerful spirit medicine, could help her. And he said she was beautiful! Her lips curled in a warm smile, and it reached her eyes as well, causing them to shine. Her breath came just a little more rapidly.

When he handed back her knife, their hands met. He held hers in his own and stroked her skin with his thumb, softly. The gesture stole her breath at first. Her smile faded like smoke on the wind. Suddenly things seemed strange, serious, in a way they hadn't been before. She looked at his hand, touching her skin. It had been a long time since even White Buffalo had touched her with affection. He'd given up on trying to get a child with her and no longer came to her at night.

Now this man was touching her, and she could feel his intent in the way he stroked her skin. She felt his eyes upon her. Shyly she glanced up, out of the corners of her eyes, and she couldn't stop the blush nor the smile she felt crossing her lips. She felt a funny tingling feeling inside of her, and took back her hand, returning the knife to its sheath. She rose and headed for the door flap.

Glancing back at Jackson, she said, "It will be night soon, and it can get cold here at night. I will bring you something to keep you warm." She ducked and went out through the flap, but not before he could see the smile return to her face, and the spark of interest in her eyes.

After she left, the warrior on guard, Drowning Bear, poked his head inside to make sure all was well. Seemingly satisfied that the captive wasn't trying to escape, he ducked back out to resume his vigil.

As she crossed the camp to the lodge she shared with White Buffalo and Two Otters, Spotted Elk thought about what Jackson had said. "I..take you." had been his words. But thinking back, she wasn't sure how he'd meant them. Was he merely saying that he would take her back to her people? Or was his answer in response to her remark about what sort of Shoshone man would want her, after being taken as a Crow wife?

Some part of her wanted to believe it was the latter meaning, perhaps even more than she wanted to believe he would take her home to her people. She found herself wanting that, more and more, as she gathered up a large buffalo hide robe and began to return to Black Wolf's tipi. She wanted to believe the strange white man with the soulful eyes and the powerful medicine spirit desired her, as a man desires a woman. He had said she was beautiful.

But she couldn't let herself think such thoughts. She didn't know the white ways, and he wasn't totally fluent in her tongue. He might have meant something very different. No, she didn't dare to hope for such a thing. Especially not if there was any chance of helping him to escape. 'Helping him to escape?' When had she begun to entertain such an idea, she wondered.

She was completely distracted as she carried the buffalo robe across the camp. White Buffalo had to call her name three times before she realized he was talking to her. He came up to her and took the robe, asking her what she was doing with it. "I was taking it for the prisoner to use. It is one of the old ones you no longer like. I've been working on making you a new one." she replied.

He shook it out and examined it, seeing the places worn thin from use. "It could be used to make moccasin soles." he pointed out.

She nodded her head. "I can still use it for that when the white man has no more need of it." She looked knowingly at him, waiting to see his reaction. White Buffalo looked at her for a long moment, then nodded slowly, handing the robe back to her.

"Finish up with the white man, and then help Two Otters cook some meat. The Red Hand is meeting in our tipi tonight. I want them to be welcome and have full bellies when we discuss the fate of the prisoner."

Spotted Elk nodded demurely, eyes downcast as was proper. She continued on to Black Wolf's lodge after White Buffalo turned away. She had to explain to Drowning Bear all over again what the robe was for, but he let her pass within after that.

She stopped just inside the door flap when her gaze fell upon Jackson again. She hesitated a moment before crossing to kneel in front of him again. Her thoughts were still racing, wondering what he had meant by his words earlier. She busied herself in unfolding the robe to show him. "I've brought you this robe to keep you warm tonight, Jack-son." She didn't dare to meet his eyes, not knowing if she'd see what she hoped for.

As she left, seeing the gentle smile on her face he smiled back to her..but it slowly turned to a sighed when she left..she gave him so much warmth and hope..it slowly grew cold in the room again, with the night slowly growing dark and cold. He paused for a moment to see the guard, he staying still and silent, making sure he did not look as if he was trying to escape. When he returned to watching the night Jackson stayed silent, awaiting for the woman's return.

His heart lept for joy seeing her again..true he was honest with his words, but she seemed to be his only way out. He heard her voice again..speaking in the crow words as he looked up almost expectantly. He watched her unroll the skin and speak what it was for as he spoke again "I..thank..you..spotted elk." he seeing her eyes looking down.

"Please..before..you..leave for..night..may I..look..at..eyes..one..time?" He spoke wanting to reach out to gently lift her chin, but afraid that the gaurd would see the action..his hand, which he was surpised was not retied slowly moved to take hers again the action hidden by the robe "Please.." his thumb gave a gentle touch of the top of her hand with his thumb..if she was to look up, he'd meet those honest, green eyes again.

Spotted Elk handed the robe to Jackson and felt his hands clasp hers once again, hidden under the robe. She felt the gentleness with which he held her, touched her skin. His voice, when he spoke was gentle and kind, and contained a note of yearning. He thanked her for the robe, and then continued, "Please..before..you..leave for..night..may..I..look..at..eyes..one..time?"

She wasn't sure what to think, but she lifted her eyes to meet his. In his clear green depths, she saw his emotions that belied any language barrier. The realization took her by surprise and left her confused, and made her breath come more rapidly. She was lost in those eyes for a few timeless moments, feeling his fingers caress her skin. Spotted Elk was no woman of the world, traveled and experienced in many cultures, but she was no blushing maiden either. She knew that look, and knew the desire a man could have for her. That the same desire was now in the eyes of a white man, however, was a new experience for her.

At last she reluctantly pulled her hands back, waiting until he let go. "I must go now, Jack-son. I will return tomorrow with more food for you. If I learn more of your fate, I will bring news to you." she softly whispered, making sure that Drowning Bear could not hear from his position just outside the tipi. She hesitantly stepped towards the door flap, backing away from him so she could linger in his gaze a little longer, and take in that look he had for her.

When she finally left and crossed the camp to help Two Otters cook for the Red Hand Society, her mind was in turmoil. How could this white man want her so? She had only seen him for the first time earlier in the day. But there was no mistaking that look he gave her. She was flustered and distracted and Two Otters chastised her for not keeping her mind on her work.

Later in the evening, she overheard the warriors talking about the white man. She made sure to listen as attentively as she could to hear what their plans were for the captive. Though she had to come and go while serving the food, she managed to glean enough to learn where Jackson's weapons had been taken, and also learned what the majority of the warriors felt ought to be done with him.

In her furs that night, while White Buffalo and Two Otters slept peacefully, Spotted Elk tossed and turned. Her mind was tortured by thoughts of Jackson, of his touch and how he looked into her eyes. In the fitful sleep she was able to get, she alternated between nightmares of the man's death, and dreams of escape and freedom with him. By the time morning's light broke over the camp, she had decided to do all she could to try to save him from his fate.

She attended to her morning chores with an eagerness to finish so she could attend to the captive and tell him of the new developments. Even so, it was nearly mid-day before she could get away. In the meantime, Jackson's guard, accompanied by another warrior, escorted him out of the camp to the river, where he was allowed to bathe and relieve himself. No one was concerned about him enough to give him more food, and when they took him back to Black Wolf's lodge, they intended to bind his hands again.

Spotted Elk was just arriving at the tipi, bringing food to prepare. She spoke to the guard, convincing him that the prisoner needed his hands free to eat. The guard reluctantly agreed to wait, and left them alone in the tipi.

As soon as she was sure they were alone, Spotted Elk knelt by the hearth fire, near where Jackson sat on a woven reed mat. She looked again on those green eyes and smiled warmly. Her bosom rose and fell with her excited breathing. But the memories of what she heard the night before gave a sad quality to her eyes.

She turned back to the fire to begin cooking some food for him, wondering how she could tell him what fate was planned for him. She cooked his meal in silence, handing him a bowl when she finished. She sat next to him, waiting for him to finish eating. When he had emptied his bowl, she hesitated, but finally decided to tell him.

"Jack-son, I have news about you. The Red Hand met in White Buffalo's tipi last night, and I heard them talking about you. There is a ceremony planned soon, when Black Wolf returns. It is a ceremony to ask for success and blessing for a raid on the camps of other white men who seek the yellow metal on the Bighorn river. They plan to kill you as part of the ceremony that night. If they can overcome your spirit medicine, it will be a good sign for the raid."

She looked visibly upset as she told him the news. "I don't want to watch you die, Jack-son."

Jackson nodded in response after she said her words he softly speaking "Thank..you..please..go..don't..want..them..think..help..me.." he spoke reluctantly letting her hands go to get up. He gave a soft little sigh watching as she left again. He was bound up for the night, the warm blanket actually helping him sleep. Within his mind, was filled with the dreams of gunshots and rifle powder..both it's smell and it's taste filling his senses. It was a familer sight..his days of war coming back in his dreams, to remind him of what he did and had to do..still, he had no regrets.

When he was awoken by the guard to bathe and take care of other bussiness..which he did. While he was out there, his eyes were sweeping back and forth, squinting a bit to give the impression that it was from him looking into direct sunlight. He was getting a good look at the tents and the area.mentally putting together his escape..he needed a horse, spotted elk, and his colt. It'd be hard..he's seen some guards carry rifles..though many still had bows. It was still going to be difficult. This of course standing if he was going to be killed, which was not fully true..well in his mind he didn't think so anyway.

As he was returned and bound again he awaited in silence for the beautiful spotted elk to return..as he sat there he thought over why he was falling for the girl..could be the fact he had no women..could be that he was desperate to escape..but..whatever it was..he did feel genuine feelings..he wanted to take her away to someplace safe..learn about her more in peace. When he finished the meal he paused over the news she brought he giving a soft nod "I see..now..seems..two..options. Wait..to die..or escape..need weapon..and horse..cover..of..night.." he spoke starting to silently whisper to her his plan which inloved using the cover of night to escape, avoiding contact, getting back his pistol and knife to defend himself, but only if necessary..find a horse and escape down along the rivier following it out of crow terrtory..

Spotted Elk listened to Jackson's plan. She realized that he had been thinking the same thoughts that had been on her mind, and knowing that, it gave her dreams more weight. In that instant, she decided to cast her fate with his. She didn't know, couldn't know where it would all lead.

As Jackson told her what he would need, she was already thinking of how she could help him. "Jack-son, I will help you get away. It will be dangerous, but you are a brave warrior. I have seen that. You will not be afraid." she whispered conspiratorially.

"The river leads through Crow territory, and eventually into the country of my people, but the journey is long and difficult. Many other Crow bands are between here and there. Maybe better to go into the hills where you can avoid the war parties. Travel to the east, and south. That way is the lands of the Cheyenne and Lakota, but the Crow will not follow there. The Cheyenne and Lakota are enemies of the Crow. I have heard some of the warriors say that the Cheyenne have joined with the Lakota to fight the whites. It would be dangerous for you, but maybe they will be too busy to find you. Maybe you could reach other white men who could help you."

She wanted to give him the best advice that she could. It wouldn't do for him to get caught again by the Crow. It could come out that she had helped him if that happened. But it was more than that. She secretly hoped he would take her with him, even if he didn't specifically say that he would. It wasn't just that she wanted to get away from the Crow and maybe make it back to her people someday. She found herself hoping to see that look in his eyes again, the one he had for her the previous evening. She wanted to see it in his eyes and feel his touch on her skin once again.

"I will try to get your weapon, but it won't be easy. Getting a horse will be more difficult. And you will need other supplies. I will need time to help you get these things, Jack-son."

She rose from his side to get some water for him. It felt good to see to his needs, as if she was his woman. She knew it was a foolish thought, but she couldn't help it. She let his hands cover hers as she held the cup for him to drink. She liked it when he had held her hands the night before, and she was hoping he would do it again. She was using the drinking horn as an excuse to have him touch her again. He could easily get water from the skin for himself, even if his hands had been tied, as long as they weren't behind his back. He also could have taken the cup from her hands and drank from it himself. But she liked how it made her feel inside when his hands closed over hers.

Watching him drink, she asked softly, "Jack-son, is there anything I can bring you? Anything that you need?"

Jackson nodded softly, face lighting up at her response of she wanting to help him. "..Thank you..I thank for faith...." He spoke, the time with her had help jostle his memory a bit on her tongue, they coming out a bit more confidently and and steady.

As he listens to her advice he nodded. It would prove to be a difficult..a lot more difficult then he would anticipate, but it was their best shot..he's scouted through enemy territory before..he had experience in it. The main reason why he was caught from the Crow was that he was wounded and growing tired from a long chase from yet another bounty hunting party..seems that even to this day, their was a few remaining solders from his platoon that wanted him dead for his desertion..but maybe he had the chance to find a band of Solders he could rest and resupply, get her to her home again where he planned on staying with her..

"Thank you..just take.. time getting...don't want..to get..you caught..be careful..also..get..supplies for you..too..I need you..come with me.."
As she took the water skin, he gently took her hands as he began to drink from it. He loved the soft feeling of her darker skin..so silky and smooth. He did not feel such a feeling before..as she asked her question he softly spoke "..just..be..careful" he spoke "You've..done so..much..for me..I don't..know..what else.." His eyes was locked in hers..she seeing that same warm feeling she saw last night when he begged to help him. He moved closer to her to feel more of her warmth..

Spotted Elk's heart sang when Jackson spoke of taking her with him. He needed her, he said. It would be hard to get all the things they would need to escape without drawing the notice of anyone else, but he planned to take her with him! For that she would risk any danger.

He moved closer to her, looking at her the way he had before, with that longing, that yearning. She could see that he desired her, in the way that a man wants a woman. She could scarcely believe it. This strange white man wanted her! She wanted to feel his touch. She held her breath without realizing it, hoping he would make his desire known. They were sitting so close together now, their legs touching as they faced each other. She leaned in closer to him, lost in his green eyed gaze.

She thought he might kiss her then. She hoped for it; longed for it. But just at that moment, she heard a noise signaling the return of the guard. Hurriedly she stood up and turned back to the cook fire, pretending to be busy. The noise turned out to be the relief for the guard outside. The new warrior assigned to guard the prisoner came inside to check on things. Spotted Elk recognized him as he spoke to her, instructing her to finish up with the prisoner and leave. She replied to him something in the Crow language which Jackson did not understand. But it seemed to satisfy the guard and he ducked back through the door flap of the tipi.

When she was sure he had gone, she came close to Jackson again, whispering quietly, "They have changed the guard. Now Runs Far will stand before the door. Runs Far is a friend of White Buffalo, and he has been interested in persuading White Buffalo to trade me for some horses. He wants me for himself. This could help us. I cannot stay, but I will return when I can, Jack-son."

She left him then, after one more brief clasp of hands and one lingering look in those green eyes. For the rest of the day, she carefully planned what she would need for their escape. Going about her daily chores gave her the chance to begin to surreptitiously gather some of the things they would need. She was able to hide away some dried buffalo meat here; a knife there; little things that would take some time to be missed, but it was a start. That night, she feigned need to relieve herself and consolidated her purloined goods into one cache a little way outside of camp.

She kept at it this way, all the next day. She knew there would be only a little time before some of the things she gathered would be noticed to be missing, so she knew she would have to hurry. She still hadn't thought of how she would manage to get a horse or Jackson's weapons. She hoped that some opportunity would present itself soon.

*******

It was mid-afternoon when she finally was able to visit the white man again to cook his meal and change his poultices. Runs Far was still sitting before the entrance to the lodge and he greeted her in his usual way, trying to convince her that she would be happier as his wife than with White Buffalo. And in her usual polite but resistant way, she made it clear that it was White buffalo’s decision, not hers to make. She smiled at him as she ducked through the door flap into Jackson’s presence again. She wasted no time, coming straight to his side, impulsively. She didn’t realize how much she had looked forward to this again.

She knelt by his side, smiling. Her eyes shone with the excitement that she tried to keep contained within the boundaries of proper decorum. Quietly so that Runs Far could not hear from outside the tipi, she said, “Jack-son, I have begun to gather the things you will need; food, a knife, blankets. I know where your weapon is kept, but I don’t know how I can get it without being noticed yet. I will find a way somehow. You are hungry now? I will make some food for you. I should treat your wounds again too. Will you….” She gestured to him, mimicking removing his shirt. She was too shy to ask him, but a slight smile curled her lips.

She turned to fetch some water from the skin, her shapely hips and round butt swaying rhythmically under her doeskin dress. As she went about her preparations for heating the water, both for use to make food and medicine, Jackson was treated to her smile often when she would turn back to glance at him. The way she looked at him now was different. Gone was the shy curiosity over someone from another race and culture. Now in its place was an open regard, and maybe something more. There seemed to be more developing between them than just the conspiracy to escape.

Spotted Elk came back to sit next to him with a soft wet rabbit skin, and made ready to bathe his wounds. She paused as she looked at his bare chest and stomach. She still wasn’t used to seeing the horrible scar around his neck, but she didn’t cringe from it like the first time. He could see the passing of the emotions flickering across her facial expression, but only for an instant. Sympathy, concern, anger, and finally protectiveness each crossed her mind in turn.

She began to bathe him gently, moving the soft hide over his skin in almost a caressing manner. At first, she watched her hand moving over his chest, but then she raised her eyes to meet his and smiled. “How does this feel, Jack-son? Is it okay for you? No pain?” She scooted a little closer to him and reached up to bathe his shoulders and move the soothing warm wet hide over the terrible rope scar around his neck.

When he seemed to approve of this, she moved closer still, leaning forward to reach around behind him and wash his back with the cloth. This brought her so close to him that he could feel the warmth coming from her body, could feel her breath on his skin. He could smell her natural female scent, mixed with the odor of sage and sweetgrass, smoke from campfires, and the smell of well tanned leather from the hides she had been working earlier in the day. It all combined to form a pleasant natural scent. It mattered to him because it was her scent; the scent of all the things that made her who she was.

Jackson softly held the woman's hand as he began to lean in also..he breathing a bit harder, almost as he was anticpating their lips touching, but seeing her shift back to pretend to work he began to go back to his neutral position. He sighing softly, almost disappointed.

Jackson gently listened to her he then nodded "..please..be careful.." he wispered softly under his breath as he held her hand and looked into her eyes. Whens he had to leave, he let her go. As he watched her leave, he letting out a heavy sigh as he was again bound to the post, he going silent again. He could not help but feel jealousy of this man that currently guarded him..

When she returned he looked back up, that life returning to his face as he listened. a smile on his face..maybe their was some hope in this crazy plan of his. "Alright..very good.." he spoke pleased. He paused as he nodded "If you please.." he then saw her action as he then nodded "Oh..of course.."
He soon did unbutton the shirt and let it slide off him so she could work.

As she bathed him, he was silent..but he gave soft nods and smiles of approval, showing he was enjoying the closeness this was bringing them. "Feels..good.." he spoke. As she got closer she also smelt that natural order of his..the musk of his body. Her own was so delicate and gentle..he could not help but move in close, taking a moment to nuzzle his face into her neck, taking a moment to breath deep of her hair..he seeming to look for once at peace..being so close to this woman..feeling her gentle scrubbing on his scar..

Spotted Elk almost held her breath in anticipation as she purposefully maneuvered to be so close to him. She wondered what he would do. When she felt him nuzzle into the hollow of her neck, she laughed a little, tickled by his beard. But the feel of his breath on her skin, and his lips so near caused her to flush with excitement. She could feel her body respond to him; felt her nipples growing turgid and erect, felt the gathering dampness between the lips of her sex. For a moment longer she tried to keep her proper composure; tried to follow the customs of her society. But this experience was so new and exciting for her, she could not stop herself.

She pressed her cheek against his face as subtly as she could, wanting to feel his lips on her dusky skin but not wanting to be too forward. She felt the attraction to him, but she knew she mustn’t let him think she was a loose woman, or too forward. Other women had been scarred with cuts to their noses, ears and cheeks to show their shame as punishment for behaving too wantonly. Sometimes the punishment was more severe, with parts of noses or ears actually cut off entirely.

She had to travel a narrow path between letting her desires be known and waiting for him to make the first move. She risked much merely by not pulling away from his closeness. But she was hoping that the white man’s ways were different. Or at least she hoped that he was not familiar with the ways of the Crow. Maybe he would not interpret her actions as being wrong, especially if he wanted her.

She risked even more then, pretending to turn to speak to him, perhaps to ask him to stop as a chaste woman should. But secretly, she hoped for an accidental brushing of his lips with her own. They were so close. It would be so easy to make it seem accidental. She felt his whiskers on her lips and chin, so close were they. Her soft warm breath bathed his mouth, just as the soft warm cloth had done to his body. She waited almost breathlessly for his next move.

Jackson felt the little shiver from her body when she began to grow aroused..he taking in her scent as his hands slowly began to rub along her thighs and up along her sides..his own breath began to quicken to show his arousal, his own thick powerful manhood began to grow within the tightness of his pants he letting out a brief grunt of pleasure feeling it rub on the rough linen of his pants.

She could feel a gentle touch of his lips run along her cheek and neck showing that her approach was accepted, he taking in the exotic flavor of her cheek..oh if he was not in this situation..if they were alone..he would have made his move and took the woman as she was..but this tension..this teasing tension and longing seemed to be as delicious..

As she turned her head, their lips hovering over one another, he briefly held his lips before hers, breathing softly, she feeling the caress..it was almost as if he was teasing her..but then his lips captured hers in a kiss, holding it gently and lovingly, as his hands kept running along her legs, he keeping it as subtle as he could. The Kiss was full of loving passion..taking in that exotic flavor of her darker lips..the soft feeling of them together was electrifying..he could pin her to the ground and make love to her here if he could..

Spotted Elk felt his hands move upon her thighs, caressing her through her soft hide dress and his touch thrilled her. Time seemed to slow down for her, allowing her to sense everything that was happening to her at once. She felt his hands move up along her sides, even as his lips found her cheek and neck. She heard his breathing quicken of a pace to match her own.

Her slender arms were already up around his neck and shoulders from her efforts to minister to the cuts and scratches on his back, but she gave up all pretense of that now and let her arms hold him tightly. The dripping rabbit hide dribbled warm water in a wet trail down his back. She moved closer again, this time impetuously into his arms in a full embrace.

With her arms up around his neck, the fringed seams of her dress along the sides were exposed, revealing the loose openings for her arms beneath the yoke part. Such openings were left for the benefit of staying cool in the hot days of summer, and with a slight adjustment to the laces, made it possible for a woman to enlarge the openings enough to have access to feed her infant when necessary. But now, as she felt Jackson's hands roam up along her sides, all she could wonder is if he would find his way to her bare skin.

But she didn't have long to wonder. His lips found her mouth then, and he hungrily kissed her even as his hands continued to caress her thighs and hips. Her lips yielded softly, giving him whatever he would wish to take from her. She returned the kiss with equal passion, pulling herself tightly to his chest. Kissing a man with whiskers was a new experience for her, but she found it not at all unpleasant.

The first kiss was followed by a second, then a third, each one growing the heat between them until they breathlessly had to part for air. When at last she pulled back to look once more into those green eyes, she sighed in happiness and smiled warmly at him.

Her dark eyes gleamed with desire for him, but from outside the lodge came the sound of a disturbance in the normally peaceful camp. It was barely noticeable in the heat of their moment, but it was just enough to bring her attention back to the situation they were in, and to remind her what would happen to each of them if they were caught.

With a reluctant sigh, she said, "Something is happening. I should go and see, in case it is something that might affect you. Jack-son, I...." In her eyes was the reluctance to leave him, the regret that what they had just experienced of each other must be interrupted. With a slight groan of frustration, she continued, "I will come back and finish treating your wounds as soon as I can." There was more she left unsaid, but he could see it in her eyes. Cleaning his wounds wasn't all she wanted to come back for, but she couldn't say it.

Her hands continued to reach out to touch him, lingering in contact with his bare flesh even as she stood up and began to go, as if she would prolong the touch they had for as long as she could. But at last she had to turn and duck outside to find out what was happening in the camp.

As he held the passionate kiss, his hands slowly began to run up from her legs to her sides..he feeling along the ties that held her simple soft hide dress together..dexterous fingers began to slip through the leather thongs that held her clothing together..she being able, to feel the tips of his skilled, rough fingers run alongher bare sides which got him even more aroused. For a breif moment she felt his fingertips brush the sides of her darker skinned breasts.

It was light lighting shooting up his spine as he held the kiss, he pausing as she seeing her break out of the trance and slowly pull away...as he listened to her he gave a soft nod "Yes..thats true..go.." he spoke watching her stand..smiling as she felt her keep his hand on her. He watched her leave as he let out a sigh and shifted uncomfortably in his place..he still aroused from that brief but wonderful encounter..he letting out a sigh..his heart was racing and his fingers seemed to gently flex in need.

Just as her fingertips left his skin, Spotted Elk shivered in excitement, remembering the feeling of his fingertips on her breasts, even though it was a fleeting touch. Her nipples had stiffened so that they caused the front of her doeskin dress to tent outwards in two small points. She took a deep steadying breath before leaving the tipi, smoothing her hands over the front of her dress, trying to compose herself before leaving. Her dark eyes met his one last time from across the lodge before she ducked out through the door flap.

She returned in only a matter of moments, visibly upset. Crossing quickly to where he sat, she whispered hastily, "Jack-son, Black Wolf has returned! Some of his warriors have been killed! He is coming here soon to see you. I don't know if I will be allowed to tend to you after he questions you. We may not have much time now!"

In the few moments they had together, she took the liberty of helping him put on his shirt, in the process letting her hand rest in a lingering touch on his shoulder. Scarcely had she managed to get him dressed and turn back to the fire when the door flap opened to allow a tall proud warrior to enter. He was dressed in buckskin leggings and a breechcloth, with a elk skin over-shirt decorated with long fringes and various painted symbols, including an outline of a hand print in bright red just over his left breast. He carried a bow and arrows, which he hung on a peg near the door flap. In addition, he wore a knife at his belt and had a war club as well. Two other warriors came in behind Black Wolf. Jackson recognized them as the two warriors who had been guarding him: Drowning Bear and Runs Far.

Black Wolf glanced at Spotted Elk where she tended the stew by the fire. Drowning Bear leaned over and said something to Black Wolf in the Crow language, which caused Spotted Elk to stiffen nervously. Then Black Wolf spoke to her. Whatever he said to her, she answered briefly and her demeanor became subdued and demure. She stood next to Black Wolf and began to speak. "Jack-son, Drowning Bear told Black Wolf that you could understand my Shoshone language. Now I am told to speak Black Wolf's words to you. Then I am supposed to say to Black Wolf what you say to me."

At that, the tall imposing warrior spoke again in a quiet but confidant voice. Spotted Elk translated, "He wants to know why you came to the lands of the People. He wants to know if there are more white men who were with you. Jack-son, what you tell him could decide what fate he determines for you. Be careful!"