He walked slowly into his tipi alone, saw the place where she had slept across from him for her entire life, her elkskin dresses carefully folded, even the new one trimmed in fur. He lay down in the place where he slept, his eyes closed, seeing her in his mind as he knew he would forever, and waited to die. He hoped it wouldn’t take long for the Great Spirits to take him. Without Wachiwi at his side, he had nothing more to live for. His spirit died within him the day she left.
Chapter 7
The Crow war party that had taken Wachiwi from her tribe rode hard for two days. Wachiwi fought them as best as she was able to, with her hands and arms tied. She did everything she could to save herself, including throwing herself from the horse into some bushes. After that, they tied her legs as well, and the brave who rode with her carried her slung across his horse in front of him, like a prize from the hunt. She would have killed them if she could. Other women would have been afraid of them, but Wachiwi wasn’t. She didn’t care if they killed her now, she had seen them murder the boy she loved, and two of her brothers. What they did to her now no longer mattered, if she never got back to her father. But she was going to try to escape. She lay across the horse thinking of it, as the war party traveled for days toward the Crow camp. They stopped to kill two buffalo along the way, which they thought was a promising sign.
Once in a while they would untie her, but only long enough to let her attend to her needs. She tried to run away whenever they did,and they would catch her and tie her up again each time. They laughed at how violently she fought them, and one of them slapped her hard and threw her to the ground when she bit him. She was a wildcat in their midst, and in their dialect, they talked about what a prize she would be for their chief. They were well aware from her clothes that she was the daughter of the Sioux chief. She wore a soft elkskin dress that was carefully beaded and covered with the porcupine quills she had dyed. And even her moccasins were delicately made. And although she was not as young as some of the girls in camp, she was very beautiful, obviously very brave, and very strong. She fought them almost like a man, but they overpowered her anyway. The war party was made up of their camp’s fiercest men. Some of them would have liked to keep her for themselves, but they were saving her for their chief. He already had two wives, his own and his brother’s wife, whom he had married the previous year when his brother was killed in the hunt. It had been his duty to marry her, and she was already with child. This girl was much younger than the two wives he had, and far more beautiful. He would be pleased. She had a lovely figure, and although she did not look at them, even now, she had enormous eyes. And all of them had noticed how courageous she was, even being kidnapped by a war party, and no matter how much they tried to scare her. Other girls her age, or older, would have been screaming in fright. Wachiwi tried to run away whenever she could, and clearly didn’t care if they killed her. But she was too sweet a prize for their chief for them to want to lose her. So they kept her tied up as much as possible, and rode with great speed for their camp. One of the men tried to offer her food, willing to feed her with his hands, and each time she turned her face away and refused. She lookednone of them in the eye, but her face was filled with hatred, and in her heart was despair for the father she knew would die of grief without her.
It was the end of the third day when they rode into the Crow camp at last. It was smaller than her own, and she saw the same familiar scenes, of children running, women sitting in groups and talking while they sewed, men coming back into camp after a hunt. Even the layout of the camp was similar to the way her people set up theirs, and the brave who carried her rode up to the chief’s
Chapter 7
The Crow war party that had taken Wachiwi from her tribe rode hard for two days. Wachiwi fought them as best as she was able to, with her hands and arms tied. She did everything she could to save herself, including throwing herself from the horse into some bushes. After that, they tied her legs as well, and the brave who rode with her carried her slung across his horse in front of him, like a prize from the hunt. She would have killed them if she could. Other women would have been afraid of them, but Wachiwi wasn’t. She didn’t care if they killed her now, she had seen them murder the boy she loved, and two of her brothers. What they did to her now no longer mattered, if she never got back to her father. But she was going to try to escape. She lay across the horse thinking of it, as the war party traveled for days toward the Crow camp. They stopped to kill two buffalo along the way, which they thought was a promising sign.
Once in a while they would untie her, but only long enough to let her attend to her needs. She tried to run away whenever they did,and they would catch her and tie her up again each time. They laughed at how violently she fought them, and one of them slapped her hard and threw her to the ground when she bit him. She was a wildcat in their midst, and in their dialect, they talked about what a prize she would be for their chief. They were well aware from her clothes that she was the daughter of the Sioux chief. She wore a soft elkskin dress that was carefully beaded and covered with the porcupine quills she had dyed. And even her moccasins were delicately made. And although she was not as young as some of the girls in camp, she was very beautiful, obviously very brave, and very strong. She fought them almost like a man, but they overpowered her anyway. The war party was made up of their camp’s fiercest men. Some of them would have liked to keep her for themselves, but they were saving her for their chief. He already had two wives, his own and his brother’s wife, whom he had married the previous year when his brother was killed in the hunt. It had been his duty to marry her, and she was already with child. This girl was much younger than the two wives he had, and far more beautiful. He would be pleased. She had a lovely figure, and although she did not look at them, even now, she had enormous eyes. And all of them had noticed how courageous she was, even being kidnapped by a war party, and no matter how much they tried to scare her. Other girls her age, or older, would have been screaming in fright. Wachiwi tried to run away whenever she could, and clearly didn’t care if they killed her. But she was too sweet a prize for their chief for them to want to lose her. So they kept her tied up as much as possible, and rode with great speed for their camp. One of the men tried to offer her food, willing to feed her with his hands, and each time she turned her face away and refused. She lookednone of them in the eye, but her face was filled with hatred, and in her heart was despair for the father she knew would die of grief without her.
It was the end of the third day when they rode into the Crow camp at last. It was smaller than her own, and she saw the same familiar scenes, of children running, women sitting in groups and talking while they sewed, men coming back into camp after a hunt. Even the layout of the camp was similar to the way her people set up theirs, and the brave who carried her rode up to the chief’s
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