Disclaimer:
I have tried to make sure my historical information is correct and I'd like to think I haven't offended any Native Americans peoples with the telling of this tale. I am 1/8th Cherokee and am proud of that heritage. I'm not trying to show any Native Americans in a bad light... that is not my intention.
Author's Note:
The English-Cheyenne word translations come from the Cheyenne Language Web Site, one that I've found extremely helpful for the telling of this tale.
Translations:
Nénáasêstse: Come here
He'kotoo'êstse: Be quiet
Hámêstoo'e: Sit down (plural; spoke to more than one person)
Méseestse: Eat
Tâhéovešêstse: Go to sleep (or Get some sleep)
Né'áahtovêste: Listen to me!
Mahpetana'ôtse: Falling Water
Néá'eše: Thank you
Taa'evâho'nehe: Night Wolf
Va'ôhtama, néséne: Welcome, my friend
Tósa'e nétao'sêtsêhe'ôhtséme: Where are you going?
Héehe'e: yes
Nóxa'e: Wait here
Né'éstséhnêstse: Come in!
Épéva'e: Good (It's good)
Ma'heo'o: The Great Spirit or God
Náhko'e: Mother
Ného'e: Father
Pêhéveéšeëva, naaxaa'éhéme: Good day, my sister
Nómôheto: Go
Hénová'etse: What is it?
Hová'âháne: No
Néméhotatséme- I love you.
Chapter Six
Night Wolf made his way around the village, giving dried meat and semi-cured hides to the families he knew needed them the most, to the elderly and the infirm, to mothers and wives who'd lost sons and husbands in battle with the Crow and Pawnee. He handed a stack of deer hides and nearly all the meat from a large buck to a young wife who's husband had been gored and rendered lame from the waist down by a wounded bull buffalo. She exclaimed her thanks and carried the meat inside. He continued on towards the lodge of his grandparents, to which he gave a bearskin to his near ancient grandfather and another large buck to his grandmother. Sitting down near his grandfather at an outside fire, he listened as the old man told a tale of his first bear kill and the fine hide the sacred animal had given him.
After spending quality time with a man Night Wolf revered beyond all others, he moved on, making his rounds through the camp until he had a small portion to take back to his own lodge. Returning there, he looked around and nodded. It was time for a woman to make the large conical dwelling more of a home. A woman's gentle touch would be nice. He glanced around at his surroundings... from the thick fur pallet at the left side, to the willow backrests and his rack of weapons. The wood box was full of kindling, sage and sweetgrass while the 'kitchen' items where stored away in hide parfleches when not in use. Those items where on the right side. Definitely a woman's touch was needed here, despite the fact that his mother and sisters kept his lodge neat and clean.
Tomorrow would begin her training. He would enlist the help of Sun Bear's wife, Amanda 'Sky Eyes' Rourke, to teach her the Cheyenne language and womanly duties. He knew he'd have to visit his friend soon. He would need Sun Bear's permission. With that decided, he returned to his parent's lodge. Sitting outside was his youngest sister, Little Sage, diligently restringing her bow.
"
Pêhéveéšeëva, naaxaa'éhéme
(Good day, my sister)." Night Wolf greeted as he bent down near her. "If you get that bow finished, I'll take you on a hunt."
"Would you, brother?" The girl's face lit up brightly.
"
Héehe'e
(yes), since you think you are a boy instead of a girl. But what you should be doing is helping mother sew and scrape hides," he admonished teasingly.
"That is boring. Mother has Hummingbird to help her with that. I wish to make war and hunt like a brave."
Night Wolf laughed and ruffled her hair. "There is more to being a warrior than making war and hunting, my feisty little sister. Within a few years many young braves will be looking for wives and you will not have the proper skills. Mother and Father have been very lenient with you by letting you act like a boy. The time will be soon upon you to act like the girl you are and learn to become a good, dutiful wife."
"Don't lecture me, brother. You are sounding like mother, always harping at me to act like a girl. Girls have less fun than boys. Besides that, you are well past the age where you should have taken a wife to your lodge. Father gave you a lodge so you'd find a wife. Prairie Flower as well as Singing Wind look upon you with much favor. They are beautiful, are they not?"
He chuckled. "There are things you are not old enough to understand yet, little sister. I have chosen a wife."
"That white woman with mother?" Little Sage exclaimed loudly.
"Yes, my sister, she is Falling Water. Would you begrudge your favorite brother his destiny?"
"She is white, though, and Father says he fears that our warrior's will no longer welcome you in their circles or follow you on the war path. He said that Big Pine may consider passing the war chief bonnet to another."
Night Wolf clucked his tongue, thinking carefully before he spoke his next words. "I am a great warrior whether I have a white or Cheyenne wife. My choice does not affect my ability on the field of battle nor will it sway the outcome of Big Pine's decision. My chest still bears the scars of the sacred Sun Dance. I fight with much strength, honor and courage. My enemy will always feel the sting of my war lance and the bite of my arrows. I have fought the Crow, Ute, Pawnee, and Kiowa; I have also battled the bluecoats. My lodge pole bears the weight of the scalps of those who have fallen to my greatness. I have counted coup on hundreds of other warriors. My body bears the scars of those battles. So you see, dear sister, you would be wise to hold your tongue behind your teeth, for you know not of what you foolishly speak. A mere woman-child should not dare to discredit that I am the best warrior this village has ever produced."
"Forgive me, my brother, for I am but a foolish female that speaks without thought. I shall offend you no more." Little Sage trembled and ran away toward the river, leaving her bow behind.
Night Wolf shook his head at her impertinence and watched her go before he re-entered the lodge of his parent's. Making his way to Ione's side, he crouched beside her, and spoke to her in an even firm tone. "Mahpetana'ôtse,
nénáasêstse
(come here)."
She looked over at him as she recognized his voice. She smiled and went back to watching his mother bead a buckskin shirt with a thunderbird design. She recognized the symbol that she'd painted upon a few of the lodges in the village. Night Wolf repeated his command and motioned for her to follow him. She frowned, her brow furrowing. What did he want now? It was come here and go there. She liked sitting and quietly watching his mother work.
"Falling Water, come here," Night Wolf repeated firmly and extended his hand to her.
"
Nómôheto
(Go)," Night Wolf's mother barked at Ione, motioning to the door.
A dark scowl crossed her face. She knew when she was being dismissed, but what did her handsome warrior want of her? If only she could understand him. He led her to the door, avoiding walking between the fire and the occupant's of the lodge then said his goodbyes to his family before leading Ione back to his own lodge. Ushering her inside, he began to teach her proper etiquette.
His first lesson for her consisted of walking to the right of the lodge while he walked to the left. When he felt she understood him, he motioned her to take a seat at the fire then sat down beside her. Reaching for a parfleche of food, he placed a haunch of meat he'd saved for himself and cut strips from it to make a stew. He reached into another parfleche and pulled out a few wild vegetables they'd gathered while on their way back to the camp, instructing her to chop them. Slowly he pronounced the name of each item, having her repeat it back to him.
Ione soon began pointing at items for him to tell her the words. He happily obliged her, knowing it would help her in the long run to learn their language. Once the stew was simmering he produced a few bowls from a pouch as well as spoons made out of bone. Then he pulled out a few corn cakes as well. Ione's thoughts took hold her while she waited for the food to cook. She recalled how Tessa had told her of some of their customs. Men ate first, served by the women. When he had eaten his fill, the women and children could eat. While the man was eating, the woman was expected to either work on something or sit quietly. The custom seemed unfair to her, but she held her tongue. Even if she objected, how could she make him understand her words of discontent or even begin to understand his response to them?
