Brindle's Odyssey

The sun was setting in the west as the shadows completed their daily stretch. Someone was cooking venison over a fire and Man Killer’s stomach rumbled. She unloaded her canoe and then flipped it over to check for damage. Much to her delight, she found nothing that looked like it needed repairs. Tomorrow they would see much white water and she knew that many repairs would have to be made. This would slow them down, which would make them vulnerable to the Sioux. Man Killer set about preparing her pallet as she chewed on some of the berries she carried with her.

  He was taller than any of the other men, broad in the shoulders and he walked with a distinct arrogance. They called him Stump Nose and he did as he pleased. Man Killer had decided she didn’t care for him a long time ago. She thought him to be a bully and to be very hard on her eyes. Suffering fell in his wake and most simply avoided him.

  Stump Nose was in the prime of his life and had never taken a wife. The other braves had begun laughing behind his back. He was a determined man, ready to die to defend his own honor. He would make Man Killer his wife and they would have many children. He had grown tired of living with his mother and was elated that she had come up with the plan to trap Man Killer. Stump Nose thought she was the smartest woman in the camp.

  “I brought you some food,” Stump Nose said in his gruff voice. “Eat.”

  Man Killer turned to face the voice. She saw Stump Nose looking over his shoulder, his brown eyes darting around to see who was watching. His eyes grew panicked when he saw a great many of their number were watching them. Man Killer had a moment to process the information. What could it hurt to accept his offer? She was hungry and Stump Nose would be greatly embarrassed if she refused his offer. She would eat and quietly explain to him that she was not interested in taking a husband. When he turned to face her again, Man Killer hesitated for a long moment, savoring it in her mind. Stump Nose gave her a pleading look, tilting his head towards the others. “Thank you,” she said, taking the offered food in the wooden bowl.

  Stump Nose looked overjoyed and he quickly squatted down on his haunches. “It is rabbit from my mother’s fire. You will like it.”

  Man Killer picked at one of the small leg bones and tasted the meat. She decided that Stump Nose’s mother really knew her rabbit. She smiled. “Tell your mother that the rabbit is very good.”

  “You can tell her yourself,” Stump Nose said enthusiastically, squishing a red beetle on a moss-covered stone.

  Man Killer’s jaw nearly fell from her mouth as she saw the three old women walking over to chaperone them. Stump Nose’s mother was leading the group and she looked as proud as a peacock. Man Killer cursed herself and her own foolishness. This had all been carefully planned by Stump Nose’s mother. He was far too thick-headed to plan such a devious plot. Now it would be thought that the two were a couple.

  She was known as Wind In Her Face, because of the way she bent forward as she moved, as if she were facing a brutal north wind. She knew that Man Killer would have figured out her scheme by now, but that did not matter. She was desperate to rid herself of her last son. He was lazy and spent most of his time boasting about his athletic abilities. He had few friends and most of them were friends borne out of fear. There was no denying that Stump Nose was a man to be feared, but real men were only supposed to be feared by their enemies. People shied away from him and Wind In Her Face saw her hopes of marrying off her son, wither, then fall from the vine of her dreams. She would not fail.

  “Wind In Her Face,” greeted Man Killer, trying to look shocked that she would visit them in her camp. “How are you today?”

  Wind In Her Face stood with her shoulders stooped forward, looking as if she might be blown over at any second. She was a solid woman with a wide face that was deeply lined. She smiled at Man Killer, pretending not to hear the offered greeting. She then held her gnarled hands to her bosom and spoke in a very loud voice. “Oh, it warms my heart to see love in the eyes of the young. We must celebrate! Man Killer has just consented to marrying my son. Build a fire and we will dance to celebrate this great day!”

  The two old sisters that had accompanied Wind In Her Face played their parts perfectly. Owl Woman wailed with excitement while her sister, No Tongue, raised her hands in the air in jubilation. They then wandered off to share the wonderful news with anyone who hadn’t heard Wind In Her Face, just as they had planned.

  Man Killer stared into the dark eyes of the treacherous mother. She saw nothing but challenge and Man Killer found herself looking away. The moment passed in the blink of an eye and the camp suddenly sprang to life. Two drums began to play as a large fire was prepared in the middle of their camp. Man Killer wanted to cry.

  Wind In Her Face pressed her attack, moving next to the stricken woman and she sat down next to her. “I do not care if you kill him,” she spat. “He is of no use to me.”

  Man Killer recoiled at the words. What sort of mother was she? She looked to Stump Nose who was smiling stupidly. The comment hadn’t seemed to bother him in the least. “That is good,” Man Killer replied. “Because he will surely never wake up again after we are married.”

  “I will not go to sleep,” said Stump Nose, as if what he said mattered to these two women.

  “I know he will die, but that will be your fault. The Dead Winter has taken many braves. Do you think it is wise that we lose another? Who will be left to fight the Sioux?”

  Man Killer had already thought about that. The People might be very angry because of this. It did not matter that nobody liked Stump Nose. They would only remember that he was a great warrior and that he had been senselessly murdered by one of their own. The old hag had carefully plotted this out and she was playing it perfectly. Man Killer shook her head and continued to eat. There was nothing more to do.

  Stump Nose thrust out his chest and began to pace the area. He had never been happier and he didn’t know what to do with himself. This was indeed a great victory. Wind In Her Face smiled her old woman smile and thought about living alone after all of these years. Finally, an empty nest where she would be free of his terrible snoring and the frequent thunder that erupted from his pallet. Man Killer thought her life was over.

  Stump Nose sang and danced until the last of them had left the fire. He was a poor dancer and a terrible singer, in Man Killer’s opinion. She held her hands over her ears as she tried to go to sleep. Man Killer wept and quietly cursed the old woman as she slowly drifted off into her own broken dreams.

  Huck