around, congratulating him.
As busy as he was, he had not failed to notice that one young woman seemed more than fleetingly interested in him, and he was flattered by her attention. Light Hair was considered a real prize, and more than one suitor for her hand had been sent packing. It was not that the marriage gifts the warriors offered were insufficient, either. No amount of bartering between the would-be husband and her family made any difference. Light Hairknew what she wanted, and what she wanted was Sitting Bull.
He was beginning to think that maybe he wanted Light Hair, too. Like the other young men, he would occasionally wrap himself in a blanket, leaving little but his eyes exposed, and pull a prospect under the blanket for a few minutes of conversation. Light Hair knew that he was special and hoped that he would realize that she was his for the asking. But she was not going to compromise her reputation to win him, either. Lakota courting customs were clearly defined, and one flouted them at great risk. As the daughter of a chief, Light Hair was not prepared to take that risk, because it was not just her own reputation that would be tarnished, but that of her family as well.
She had been watching Sitting Bull for more than six months before he finally invited her under his blanket. They stood there talking quietly, Sitting Bull clearly nervous and not saying much. She didn’t want to seem pushy, but neither did she want to waste an opportunity that, for all she knew, might not come again any time soon.
“Maybe we could take a walk,” she suggested.
Sitting Bull seemed baffled by the suggestion. “A walk? Why?”
“Maybe your tongue will loosen if there are not so many people watching us so closely,” she said.
Sitting Bull conceded the truth of her observation with an embarrassed smile. “I can sing better than I can speak,” he explained.
“I never noticed,” she said. “You didn’t seem tohave any trouble talking to Pretty Door a few days ago.”
“She is easy to talk to.”
Light Hair bristled. “And I’m not?” she demanded, making as if to pull the blanket aside and leave him standing there.
“No, no, I don’t mean that you’re not easy to talk to. I just meant that …”
“Well, what
did
you mean?” She had the hook set now, and she was not about to cut him loose easily. He would have to fight to spit it out.
“I, uh … I just meant that it’s easy to talk when it doesn’t matter.”
“Is that supposed to mean that talking to me matters more? Or does it mean that the less it matters, the less you say?”
Once more, Sitting Bull squirmed uncomfortably. It was not going nearly as well as he had hoped. And Light Hair was not doing anything to make it easier for him.
She tapped him on the chest. “You are such a fast runner, but right now you don’t seem fast at all. You seem like you have turned to stone.”
Sitting Bull just bobbed his head. This woman was worse than any Crow war party. She made him feel like a five-year-old again. And for a moment, he wished he were. It was a lot easier to get a girl’s attention by chasing her with a dead fish or pulling on her braid than it was to be standing there alone together, the whole world shut out by the blanket.
Light Hair was beginning to think that she had pushed him too hard, and decided to make it up tohim. “I was just playing,” she said. “Trying to make you less sure of yourself.”
“You managed that quite well,” Sitting Bull acknowledged.
“Maybe we will do this again, when you have more to say,” she suggested.
Again, all he could do was nod his head. When she pulled away from the blanket, it was left dangling from one shoulder, and he felt suddenly naked. He saw that the other courting couples were watching him, and he turned away, wrapping the blanket around himself again, and stalked off to Jumping Bull’s lodge where no one could see how flustered he was.
When he went inside, Her Holy Door
As busy as he was, he had not failed to notice that one young woman seemed more than fleetingly interested in him, and he was flattered by her attention. Light Hair was considered a real prize, and more than one suitor for her hand had been sent packing. It was not that the marriage gifts the warriors offered were insufficient, either. No amount of bartering between the would-be husband and her family made any difference. Light Hairknew what she wanted, and what she wanted was Sitting Bull.
He was beginning to think that maybe he wanted Light Hair, too. Like the other young men, he would occasionally wrap himself in a blanket, leaving little but his eyes exposed, and pull a prospect under the blanket for a few minutes of conversation. Light Hair knew that he was special and hoped that he would realize that she was his for the asking. But she was not going to compromise her reputation to win him, either. Lakota courting customs were clearly defined, and one flouted them at great risk. As the daughter of a chief, Light Hair was not prepared to take that risk, because it was not just her own reputation that would be tarnished, but that of her family as well.
She had been watching Sitting Bull for more than six months before he finally invited her under his blanket. They stood there talking quietly, Sitting Bull clearly nervous and not saying much. She didn’t want to seem pushy, but neither did she want to waste an opportunity that, for all she knew, might not come again any time soon.
“Maybe we could take a walk,” she suggested.
Sitting Bull seemed baffled by the suggestion. “A walk? Why?”
“Maybe your tongue will loosen if there are not so many people watching us so closely,” she said.
Sitting Bull conceded the truth of her observation with an embarrassed smile. “I can sing better than I can speak,” he explained.
“I never noticed,” she said. “You didn’t seem tohave any trouble talking to Pretty Door a few days ago.”
“She is easy to talk to.”
Light Hair bristled. “And I’m not?” she demanded, making as if to pull the blanket aside and leave him standing there.
“No, no, I don’t mean that you’re not easy to talk to. I just meant that …”
“Well, what
did
you mean?” She had the hook set now, and she was not about to cut him loose easily. He would have to fight to spit it out.
“I, uh … I just meant that it’s easy to talk when it doesn’t matter.”
“Is that supposed to mean that talking to me matters more? Or does it mean that the less it matters, the less you say?”
Once more, Sitting Bull squirmed uncomfortably. It was not going nearly as well as he had hoped. And Light Hair was not doing anything to make it easier for him.
She tapped him on the chest. “You are such a fast runner, but right now you don’t seem fast at all. You seem like you have turned to stone.”
Sitting Bull just bobbed his head. This woman was worse than any Crow war party. She made him feel like a five-year-old again. And for a moment, he wished he were. It was a lot easier to get a girl’s attention by chasing her with a dead fish or pulling on her braid than it was to be standing there alone together, the whole world shut out by the blanket.
Light Hair was beginning to think that she had pushed him too hard, and decided to make it up tohim. “I was just playing,” she said. “Trying to make you less sure of yourself.”
“You managed that quite well,” Sitting Bull acknowledged.
“Maybe we will do this again, when you have more to say,” she suggested.
Again, all he could do was nod his head. When she pulled away from the blanket, it was left dangling from one shoulder, and he felt suddenly naked. He saw that the other courting couples were watching him, and he turned away, wrapping the blanket around himself again, and stalked off to Jumping Bull’s lodge where no one could see how flustered he was.
When he went inside, Her Holy Door
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