They arrived at the head of the Brule on an early summer’s day. There were so many fish in these waters that they could barely avoid the paddles from the canoes. The men were sent off to hunt while the women began constructing the wigwams. Man Killer had the frame of hers built before any of the other women. She was good with a hatchet and proud of her skills.
“Stump Nose will like his new home,” Wind In Her Face said, sneaking up behind her as she so often did these days. “You should know how to fix his meals.”
Man Killer gritted her teeth and turned to face the bent woman. They were alone, except for No Tongue, who liked to follow her friend. She smiled at Man Killer in a way that was not pleasant. “You are not getting rid of him that easy. I do not plan to marry him.”
Wind In Her Face smiled and nodded her head. “It has already been decided. When my son comes back from the hunt, the two of you shall be joined as one. You should accept that and know that I am not your enemy. The two of us should be friends. No Tongue would also like to be your friend.”
“I cannot be friends with those who tell lies. You both know the truth and you act as if it should not matter to me. I refuse to accept such a twisted friendship. Be gone now, I have much work to do.”
Even though both women knew that this was the truth, they were deeply insulted by Man Killer’s words. No Tongue lost her smile and Wind In Her Face actually straightened up. They looked at Man Killer with disgust before they turned and walked away.
The confrontation only caused Man Killer to work that much harder. She cut the poles from the saplings and she wove them into the frame of her wigwam. When she had finished that, she began to collect the moss that she would pack into the cracks between the poles. She would finish her wigwam in a single day, something that had never been done in her village. By the time she had finished making it her home, the sky was dark and she was very tired. She crawled onto her pallet and quickly drifted off to sleep.
Man Killer awoke from the dream with a gasp. She sat up on her pallet and ran her fingers through her tangled hair. She was sweating and her heart was pounding inside her chest. She gathered herself and quickly got to her feet. The message in her dream had been very clear and she knew she had no time to waste.
The night was without a moon and it was very dark and still. Man Killer eyed the dogs and saw that they were sleeping, which was good. With the hostile Sioux in the area, the whine of a dog might be investigated. She slipped quietly out of camp and walked down the path to the river. The canoes were there, long black shadows that were nearly identical in the darkness. She thought hard, trying to remember where she had left hers.
She moved slowly, deep in thought, when one of her feet found a dry branch and it snapped in the silence. A dog began to bark, followed by another. This would wake the camp and someone would surely come down to the river to check on their canoes. Man Killer chose the canoe that she thought to be hers, found the paddle that was always waiting in the same spot, and quickly slipped into the river. She was two hundred feet away when the first of the torches arrived at the river.
Man Killer smiled, not only because she had made a clean escape, but because she had actually chosen her own canoe in the darkness. She could tell by the way her knees felt on the patched bottom of her craft. She took this as a good sign and she continued to stroke her paddle in the inky water under the black sky.
She had no idea where she was heading. Man Killer prayed for direction.
Huck