Devil Moon (6 page)

Tihikanima found her son seated on a log in a sunlit glade. He was sitting so still and blended in so well, with his green buckskins, she almost didn’t spot him. He was gazing off toward King Lake with a longing expression she had seen many times of late. He wasn’t really looking at the lake; he was pining for the new female in his life. She strolled out of the trees, her arms crossed over her bosom, her doeskin dress the same shade of green as his. He was so enrapt, he didn’t notice her until she was almost on top of him.

“Mother!” Degamawaku stood. “What brings you here?”

“I was out for a walk,” Tihi lied. She had come specifically to see him, but he must not know that. “May I join you?”

“Of course.” Dega motioned at the log. “There is plenty of room for both of us.”

“What were you thinking about when I came up?” Tihi reminded herself that she must not be obvious or he would resent it.

“About a buck I saw this morning,” Dega said.

“Does this buck have a name?” Tihi countered. “And would the name be Evelyn King?”

Dega smiled and sat next to her. “I do not think of her all the time.”

“Only most of it.”

“I have made no secret of my fondness for her. She is a fine girl, Evelyn.”

“Yes, she is,” Tihi was quick to agree. In that, at least, she was sincere. She did think that Evelyn was a fine person: cheerful and courteous and caring. But to Tihi that wasn’t enough.

Out on the water, mallards were swimming and geese were honking. A large fish leaped clear and splashed down.

“What are you intentions with her?” Tihi asked. She had to force herself to keep her tone unemotional.

Dega shifted. “Why do you ask?”

“You are my son,” Tihi said. “You are my oldest. I have nurtured you from when you were a baby in a cradleboard. I care for you and want only the best for you.”

“Did Father send you to talk to me about her?” Dega asked.

“I am here on my own,” Tihi admitted. Her husband would be upset if he knew. She had broached the subject with him and he had made it plain that he did not want her to interfere. But she couldn’t stand by and say nothing. Too much was at stake.

“I should think you would be happy if Evelyn and I become close,” Dega said. “I could do worse than pick her as my wife.”

There it was, out in the open where Tihi wanted it. Now she must be extra careful. “You are young yet to think of that.”

“I have seen almost nineteen summers.”

“Evelyn has seen only sixteen.”

“So?” Dega said. “You took Father as your husband when you were that age. And Evelyn tells me
that among her people many take husbands and wives when they are as young as she and I are.”

“Among her people,” Tihi repeated. He had unwittingly given her the opening she wanted.

“Why do you say it like that?”

“She is white and you are not.”

“So?” Dega said again. “Nate King is married to Winona, a Shoshone. Shakespeare McNair is married to Blue Water Woman, a Flathead. Zach King is half and half, and he has a white wife. What difference does it make that Evelyn looks white and I do not?”

Tihi chose her next words with great care. She didn’t want him angry with her. He must think she shared his fondness for Evelyn, even if she didn’t. “When two hearts are in love, only their love matters.”

“That is how I feel, too.”

“But there is more than just your hearts involved, my son. She is white. You are Nansusequa.” Tihi paused. “Need I mention that our family is all that is left of our people? That the rest of our people were wiped out by whites who sought our land for themselves?”

“I was there, Mother,” Dega said bitterly. “It was the most terrible day of my life. I do not understand why Manitoa deserted us.”

To the Nansusequa, Manitoa was the source of all that was. Their other name for it meant That Which Was In All Things. They revered the Manitoa above all else. Because of that reverence, for untold generations they had striven to live in harmony with all that was around them, and by doing so, be close to That Which Was In All Things. For untold generations they were a peaceful people devoted to one another
and their customs. Then, in one brief burst of brutal violence, all that they were and all that they believed had been nearly wiped out by greedy whites.

Only their family escaped. The five of them were the last of their kind, the very last of the Nansusequas.

“Did Manitoa desert us or did we desert Manitoa?” Tihi responded. She’d had a hard time reconciling the tragedy herself. She could still hear the screams and see warriors and women she had known all her life having their brains blown out or their bodies skewered on sharp blades. “But it is not That Which Is In All Things that I have come to talk about.”

“Then what?”

“Our responsibility to those we lost.”

Dega scratched his handsome head in puzzlement. “I am confused,” he confessed.

“As the last of our kind, we owe it to those who fell to live as Nansusequa should.”

“We do that,” Dega said.

“We wear Nansusequa clothes and live in a Nansusequa lodge,” Tihi said. “But what about in here?” She touched her head. “Or in here?” She touched her bosom over her heart.

“We are Nansusequa through and through, as the whites would say,” Dega declared.

“Are we?” Tihi paused for effect, then said, “A Nansusequa does not give his heart to an outsider. Nansusequas only marry Nansusequas.” There. She had said it.

Dega stared at her for the longest while, his face impossible to read. Finally he said, “I cannot believe what I am hearing.”

“Why not?”

“You are saying that you do not want me to feel for Evelyn as I do. You are saying that you do not want the two of us to be together.”

“She is an outsider.”

“The Kings are our friends,” Dega said. “They helped us when no one else would. They gave us a place to live.”

“Nate and Winona do not hate our kind, I will grant them that,” Tihi conceded. “But as friendly as they have been, they are not Nansusequa. As generous as they have been, they are not Nansusequa.”

“It makes no difference to me.”

“It should,” Tihi said. “If you love your people, if you mourn for them every day as I do, then you should want to honor their memory by not giving up their ways.”

“You have thought this all this time?”

Yes, Tihi had, but her husband insisted she not interfere, and until now she had abided by his wishes. “I did not have cause to think about it until you took up with her.”

“I care for Evelyn greatly, Mother.”

To soften the sting, Tihi smiled and ran her hand over his long black hair and caressed his cheek. “I know that, son. It is why I have been reluctant to bring it up. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt your feelings.”

“I care for her greatly,” Dega reiterated.

“Enough to take her for your wife. When will that be?”

“I…” Dega hesitated. “I have not thought that far ahead.”

Tihi felt a twinge of anger. Not at him, at Evelyn King. For he was plainly lying to protect Evelyn,
and she could count the number of times that he had lied to her on one hand and have fingers left. “Let us talk that far ahead, if you do not mind.”

“I always do as you say,” Dega said, but he did not sound happy about it.

Tihi’s anger climbed, but she kept her self-control. “Let us say that Evelyn and you continue to see each other. Let us say there comes a time when you think that you love her and she thinks that she loves you.”

“It will not be because we
think
it,” Dega said. “It will be because we
are
in love.”

“Of course. My mistake. And when that time comes, you will naturally want her to be yours and she will naturally want you to be hers. So let us say that you become husband and wife. What then?”

Dega appeared puzzled. “We would live as Father and you do.”

“Will you come live with us?”

“What?”

“You heard me,” Tihi said. “It is Nansuseqea custom for a man to bring his new wife to live in the lodge of his father and mother. If you take Evelyn King for your wife, will she come live in our lodge?”

“I do not know if she would like that.”

“Have you asked her?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It has not come up.”

“All right. Let us put that aside for the moment.” Tihi went on smiling to show her forbearance. “One day you will have children. How will you raise them?”

“As Father and you raised me.”

“As Nansusequas? Or as white? Evelyn’s mother
is Shoshone, but Evelyn prefers white ways to Shoshone ways.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Dega said.

“You should. How your children will be brought up is important. Will you raise them as whites so they never know their Nansusequa heritage? Or will you raise them as your father and I raised you and your sisters, as true People of the Forest?”

Dega put his elbows on his knees and his chin his hands. “There is more to marrying her than I imagined.”

“I am happy you see that. It is why I brought it up.” Tihi shammed interest in a bald eagle soaring above distant peaks. “We are the last of our kind, my son. Once we are gone, the Nansusequa are gone. Unless…” She rubbed his shoulder. “Unless you and your sisters raise your children in the Nansusequa way, and their children after them.”

“Speak plainly, Mother. Are you against me marrying Evelyn?”

“Did I say that?” Tihi hoped she was hiding her emotions well enough. “Should you decide she should be your wife, I will stand by you as I have always stood by you in all that you have done. But it would be a shame, would it not, to have the Nansusequa way be lost to the world?”

“Yes, it would.”

Tihikanima smiled sweetly. Now she must feed the fire of doubt she had planted so it became a raging bonfire. “Think about it, my son. We are the last of our kind. I keep saying that because it is important for you to fully understand. After we are gone, the Nansusequa will be no more.” She paused and gently squeezed his arm. “Unless you and your sisters
carry on the beliefs and customs of our people. On your shoulders rests whether the Nansusequa die out or are reborn.”

“Reborn?” Dega repeated.

“Your children, my son, and Tenikawaku’s and Mikikawaku’s, are our future. They will in turn have children of their own, and their children after them. Hopefully, large families. If each of you has five children and each of them has five children and so on, in a hundred summers there will be a hundred Nansusequa where now there are only five.”

“I had not thought of that, either.”

“Do you see how important it is? In your hands rests the rebuilding of our people. In your hands is the future of all that we are.”

Dega gazed off toward the lake, and a troubled look came over him. “In our hands,” he said softly.

Tihi pressed her argument. “They
must
be raised as Nansusequa. Not in any other way. Certainly not as whites. They will not be Nansusequa then. Do you see that?”

“Yes.”

Tihi patted his shoulder. “Good. I was worried that perhaps you did not, which is why I brought all this up.”

“Have you talked to my sisters about it?”

“I have talked to Teni. She is of the age where she might take a husband if she finds one who suits her. Miki is young yet. I will wait until she is a little older.”

“You have given me much to think about.”

Tihi decided to give him more. “Think of how different we are from the whites. We believe in living in harmony with all that is. The whites believe they must control all that is and bend it to their will. We
believe in That Which Is In All Things and respect the right of all living things to the gift of life the Manitoa has bestowed. To us, our fellow creatures are our brothers and sisters. The deer in the woods. The elk in the thick brush. The birds in the trees. To the whites they are nothing but animals. Beasts, they call them, and slaughter them for furs and for food. Is this not true?”

Dega said reluctantly, “With most whites it is.”

“I ask you. Does Evelyn King believe in the Manitoa as we do?”

“No.”

“Does she regard the deer and the elk as her brothers and sisters, or does she regard them as animals?”

“To her they are animals,” Dega said, with an odd rasping to his voice.

“Does she give thanks each day to That Which Is In All Things for the breath of life in her, or does she take that breath for granted?”

Dega sadly stared at the ground.

“I have spoken enough for now.” Tihi stood and caressed his head. “Ponder my words and you will agree. You must take for your wife a woman who will live the Nansusequa way. No other will do. Do you agree?”

Barely audible, Dega said, “Yes, Mother.”

“Good. I am sorry if this has upset you.”

“No. You did right.”

“Thank you.” Tihi smiled and walked off. When she was out of his hearing she declared, “So much for Evelyn King.”

Tihikanima laughed.

The bright afternoon sun bathed the deep blue of King Lake.

Evelyn slowed her horse from a trot to a walk as she neared the east end. She was always so eager to see Degamawaku that she yearned to rush into his arms. But that would be unseemly. So she walked Buttercup up to the Great Lodge in the shade of the tall trees and dismounted. No one was about. She walked toward the opening and stopped short when Dega’s father emerged. “Hello, Wakumassee,” she said.

Waku was dressed all in green. He had a broad chest and a high forehead and always carried himself straight and tall. Smiling warmly, he clasped her hand. “Evelyn King.” His English was thickly accented. He was trying hard to learn the language and doing the best of all of them, Dega included. “My heart very happy to see you.”

“I came to talk to Dega.”

“He not here,” Waku told her. “He went walk a while ago and not back yet.”

“Oh.” Evelyn tried to hide her disappointment. “Do you know which way he went?”

“I not notice. Sorry.” Waku gestured at the Great Lodge. “Want come in? We have tea your mother give us.”

“No, thank you.” Evelyn was only interested in
seeing Dega. She scanned the woods and spied a figure approaching. “There’s Tihikanima. Maybe she knows where he is.”

Tihikanima came out of the trees. On seeing Evelyn she spread her arms wide and smiled and embraced her.

“How do you do?” Evelyn said politely. The mother was always friendly to her, but for some reason Evelyn never felt entirely comfortable around her.

Tihikanima spoke to Wakumassee and he translated.

“My wife say she much happy to see you. She say you like daughter to her. Always welcome.”

“Thank her for me,” Evelyn requested, “and please ask her if she has seen Dega.”

Waku translated, then said, “My wife say she not see our son. She say him maybe not back until dark.”

“Oh.” This time Evelyn let her disappointment show. “I was hoping to talk to him. I want to ask him to go on a picnic with me tomorrow.”

“What is picnic?” Waku asked.

“We would take food in a basket and go for a ride,” Evelyn explained. “Find a good spot and eat it.” She refrained from mentioning that secretly she hoped to keep him out overnight.

“That sound nice.” Again Waku translated for the benefit of his wife. “Tihi say we tell Dega when him come back.”

“Thank her for me.” It struck Evelyn that the mother hardly ever spoke English or even tried to, and she wondered why that was. She turned and climbed on Buttercup. “My ma wanted me to remind you that your family is invited to Sunday supper.”

“We be there,” Waku assured her. “Thank mother.”

“I will.” Evelyn rode to the south along the shore. She was glum. Putting off the picnic another day or two really made no difference except that she’d had her heart set on doing it the next day. She gave her Hawken an angry shake.

Ahead, several does were drinking. They raised their heads and pricked their ears, then bounded off with their tails erect.

A large snake slithered in among a cluster of rocks. Evelyn only caught a glimpse and couldn’t tell what kind it was. To be safe, she reined wide to avoid it. They’d had problems with rattlesnakes recently and she’d fought shy of snakes ever since. She was near the edge of the woods and instinctively raised her rifle when a shadow moved.

“How you be, Evelyn?”

Her heart bursting for joy, Evelyn drew rein. “Dega!” she exclaimed happily, and vaulted down. She ran to him and went to throw her arms around him and then glanced back at the Great Lodge and the figures standing in front of it, and stepped back. “How are you?”

“I fine,” Dega said.

Something in his tone suggested otherwise. Evelyn wanted to take his hand, but his parents might see. “I just talked to your ma and pa. They told me you had gone for a walk.”

“I thinking of you.”

Evelyn grinned in delight. “I can’t stop thinking of you, either. Last night I could hardly sleep, I wanted to be with you so much.” She glanced toward the lodge again and turned her back to it. “Why don’t we walk a little ways? I have an idea you might like.”

Dega fell into step beside her. “It pretty day.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Nansusequa thank Manitoa for pretty days,” Dega said, plainly struggling with his English.

“That’s nice.” Evelyn didn’t understand why he was bringing it up.

“Who whites thank?”

Evelyn’s puzzlement grew. “We’ve talked about this before. What you call Manitoa, whites call God Almighty. Whites give thanks to him for everything.”

“Manitoa and God not same.”

“They are close enough.” Evelyn sidled closer so their shoulders brushed as they walked. “Why talk about that when I want to talk about us? Wouldn’t it be great if we could get away for a spell by ourselves?”

“Get away?”

“Go off alone. Just the two of us.” Evelyn stopped and faced him and looked into his eyes. “What do you say? I’d like for us to go on a picnic. I’ll pack the food so all you have to bring is yourself. We can leave tomorrow, early. I’ll tell my folks that we’ll be back by dark, but if we’re not, well…” She grinned and shrugged.

“What is pic-nic?”

“I just told you. It’s where you take food off into the wilds and eat and talk and things. Wouldn’t you like that? You and me and no one else?”

“Where we go?” Dega asked. “Somewhere in valley?”

“Oh no.” Evelyn lowered her voice as if others could overhear. “This valley is big, sure, but we never know when my brother or Shakespeare or somebody might come along. So I was thinking we should go where no one else would bother us.”

“Where that be?”

Evelyn lowered her voice even more. “Do you remember a while ago when we found a pass up on that mountain to the north?”

“How I forget?” Dega replied. “We meet bad men who try kill us.”

“My pa and my brother took care of them. We’ll be safe if we keep our eyes skinned.” Evelyn touched his hand. “Pa and Uncle Shakespeare were going to close the pass with black powder, but they never got around to it. If we go through to the other side, no one will disturb us.”

“That is far for pic-nic.”

“Maybe so. But it’s worth it for the privacy.” Evelyn touched both his hands. “What do you say? Would you like to go? We can talk and eat and have a lot of fun.”

“I would like talk,” Dega said.

“Then it’s settled.” Impulsively, Evelyn rose onto the tips of her toes and kissed him on the cheek.

“I must tell Father and Mother. Maybe they not want me go.”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Evelyn asked. “They’ve let us go riding before. Besides, I mentioned it to them and they didn’t say they minded.”

“You tell them we maybe not back by night?”

“It didn’t come up.”

“Not good to keep”—Dega scrunched up his face as he searched for the right word—“secret.”

“It’s not as if we’re lying to them. If anything, we might be fibbing, and a little fibbing never hurt anyone.”

“I not understand. Lie is lie.”

“Do you want to be with me or not?”

“I want you very much, yes.”

“Then quit nit-picking. Be at my pa’s cabin as soon after sunrise as you can. I’ll be ready and waiting.” Evelyn wanted to kiss him again but restrained herself. “It will be wonderful. You and me and no one else. Just as if we were married.”

“Married,” Dega said.

“Don’t look so panicked. It’s not as if I’m proposing.” Evelyn laughed and turned. “You have made me the happiest girl alive.”

“I have?”

“Dega, I feel…” Evelyn stopped and shook her head. “No. I’ll save it for when we’re alone.”

“Save what?”

“We have some serious talking to do.”

“Yes,” Dega said. “We do.”

Evelyn climbed on. “Remember. As early as you can so we make it over the pass by ten or so and have the rest of the day to ourselves.”

“I be early,” Dega promised.

Evelyn used her heels on Buttercup. She barely noticed her surroundings; she was floating on inner clouds of joy. Her plan was working.

Several geese honked, bringing Evelyn out of herself. A hawk was flying over the lake, and its shadow had caused them alarm. “Silly things,” she said to herself. She remembered her father saying that he intended to shoot a goose before the weather turned cold, and her mouth watered. She liked goose and duck meat almost as much as mountain lion, which was her favorite. She’d balked the first time a plate of painter meat was put in front of her, but that first forkful changed her mind. It was delicious.

Smoke was rising from the McNairs’ chimney. Evelyn half expected Shakespeare or Blue Water Woman to hear her horse and come out, but their door stayed closed.

Pale patches high on the cliffs to the west caught her eye. Mountain sheep, she reckoned. She had seen them up close a few times when she was younger and marveled at how they scaled sheer cliffs with the greatest of surefooted ease.

All the horses save hers were in the corral. She stripped off her saddle and draped it over the top rail and made sure to close the gate behind her or her father would have a fit. Whistling to herself, she strolled inside. Her mother was at the counter, chopping carrots. Her father was the table, reading one of his many books. She greeted them while propping her Hawken against the wall.

“Your mother tells me you’d like to go on a picnic tomorrow.”

“It’s all set,” Evelyn said.

Nate King put down the book. “I want you to be careful, little one.”

“I’m not so little anymore,” Evelyn responded. It annoyed her that he couldn’t seem to accept the fact that she was practically a grown woman. She went to the table and sat across from him. “Have you seen sign of any hostiles or beasts I should know about?”

“No. It’s been peaceful.”

Winona looked up from her carrots. “That is what worries him. He is always waiting, as the whites say, for the other shoe to drop.”

“A person can’t be too cautious in the wilderness,” Nate said. “Not if he wants to go on breathing.”

“We’re only going on a picnic,” Evelyn said.

“Tell that to the griz that stumbles across you. Or the war party out to count coup.”

“You killed the last grizzly in our valley,” Evelyn reminded him, “and the hostile tribes mostly leave us be.”

“I had to kill the griz. It was trying to kill me,” Nate said. “And the Blackfoot Confederacy and others leave us be because they don’t know where we are.”

“I’ll be careful,” Evelyn promised.

“I want you back by nightfall.”

Evelyn smoothed her dress and flicked a speck of dust from her sleeve.

“Did you hear me, daughter?”

“Yes, Pa.”

Nate grunted and returned to his book.

Evelyn was amazed at her audacity. Here she was, outright lying to her father. There was a time, not that long ago, when she wouldn’t think of doing such a thing.

“Care to help me?” Winona asked from the counter. “We need potatoes peeled and cut.”

“Sure,” Evelyn said. She fetched the potato sack from the pantry and carried it in both hands to the counter. From a drawer she took a wood-handled knife with a narrow curved blade, and set to work. She had peeled potatoes so many times she could do it with her eyes shut. It gave her time to think about the morrow and Degamawaku.

“Are you here, daughter, or up in the sky with the birds?” Winona asked good-naturedly.

“I’m standing right next to you.”

“The look in your eyes tells me your body is here but the rest of you is somewhere else.”

“Can’t a person think around here without being pestered?” Evelyn said sharply.

Winona stopped chopping carrots and turned. Nate put down his book and shifted in his chair.

“Is that any way to talk to your mother?”

“I’m sorry, Pa,” Evelyn said quickly.

“I’m not the one you snapped at.”

“I’m sorry, Ma. I don’t know what got into me.” Evelyn set down the knife and the potato and quickly crossed to the front door and stepped out into the glare of the hot sun. She walked toward the lake, scattering chickens in her path, and came to the water’s edge. Clasping her hands so hard her knuckles hurt, she pretended not to notice when her shadow became two.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Winona asked.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Something is bothering you. I would like to soothe your spirit so you are yourself again.”

“There’s nothing,” Evelyn insisted.

“Did you see nothing when you went over to visit the Nansusequas?” Winona asked.

Evelyn stared out over the rippling surface of the water. Part of her wanted to stay silent, but another part recalled how caring and considerate her mother had always been, and she softened. “I feel things I’ve never felt before.”

Winona ran a hand down the blue beads that adorned her doeskin dress. “All women go through what you are going through.”

“That doesn’t make it easier.”

“No, it does not. One day you are a girl, the next you are a woman. One day you are playing with dolls, the next you think only of
them
. I remember how it was when I met your father. Until he came into my life, I did not give men much thought. Then something happened inside me and I was never the same.”

“It’s confusing.”

“Very.”

“There are times when I want to scream.”

“As loud as you can, yes.”

Evelyn turned. “What do I do, Ma? What do I do?”

Winona smiled and hugged her. “You do what every woman before you has done.”

“What is that?”

“You follow your heart and hope for the best.”