Whispering Wind

Author’s note: Kind readers, the names in this story are probably not correct usage of any native American language. The dialogue is not an attempt to ratify the movie stereotype, but is as I imagine would take place between peoples of limited common language. I have nothing but respect for the only true native Americans, and feel great sorrow at our usually pathetic portrayal of their society and personalities.

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Jenny Harker winced as she felt the vicious slap coming, then staggered under the impact of the blow. She would have fallen, if her father had not been holding her by her long, black hair. The slap was followed by another, and another, and another, until he had settled into a slow rhythm, a rhythm slowed by the whisky in his veins. She felt her lip split on the fifth slap, and tasted blood. She screamed, only to hear her father’s slurred, laughing comment, “T’aint nobudy go’n hear yuh, Shenny. This here cabin so fer out, nobudy but t’ prar’ dogs go’n hear yuh. Ahm go’n teach yuh, teach yuh t’ be good wom’n. “

It was the same every Saturday night, every Saturday night for the past three months. Before that, Jenny had seen it happen to her mother. After the evening meal, out would come the whisky jug, and later the beating would start. Her mother always sent her to bed in the loft, but Jenny had to listen, frightened out of her mind, with tears in her eyes, and praying God would strike her father dead that instant. The next day, father was always saying he was sorry, he didn’t know what came over him, and he would never do it again. The relationship between her mother and father during the week would be strained, she wincing when he walked by, him trying to hold her and tell her how much he loved her. Then Saturday would come again, and the reality of her life would again claim her in fear and tears.

Three months ago, a month after Jenny was nineteen, her mother died, and the reality became her own personal hell. After he tired of beating her, her father would “check on her development”, as he called it. This meant feeling her secret places to see if she was “growing up like a woman should.” The drunken groping never went farther; some vestige of humanity kept her father from anything else, but it increased her fear, her shame, and her hatred for him.

The Oklahoma cabin she had called home for the past ten months was indeed isolated. The nearest town was two days by horseback, three days by wagon, and Jenny had been there only once. Her father always made the trip, leaving Jenny and her mother alone on the prairie until he returned. Jenny lived for those days, and she suspected her mother did too. They had a gay time, Jenny learning about being a woman, sewing, and cooking; “for when you are married”, her mother had said. They took walks, picked flowers, and talked about almost anything except her father.

The next morning, Jenny woke, felt the familiar swelling on her face, and grimaced at the pain in her lip as she opened her mouth. Without bothering to change out of her night dress, she slipped quietly past her father, who was lying on the floor in his clothes from yesterday. Once outside, she went to the outhouse to relieve herself, and when finished, started back to the cabin. As she walked, she gazed at the absolute beauty of the country, turning to earthtones in the warm days and cool nights of the Oklahoma fall, and alive with the songs of the birds of the land, trees, and sky. As she scanned the horizon, her attention was drawn to small figures moving rapidly toward the cabin. As she watched, the figures became horses, with riders, and to her horror, she saw the riders become bare chested, brown skinned men with long black hair. Kiowas! Hadn’t the people in town warned them about living so far out?

Jenny ran to the house to wake her father. He rose, on unsteady legs, picked up his rifle, and staggered to the door. Through the one window, Jenny saw the riders dismount and begin walking to the cabin. Her father threw open the door and fired. A moment later, a heavy spear impaled her father and spiked him to the half open door. He hung there for a few moments, his mouth gaped, and then sagged against the spear. Jenny reached for the butcher knife on the table and hid it behind her back as four men burst into the cabin. With a whoop, one began to scalp her father, while the other three approached her, smiling and talking in a language she could not understand. After a short, laughing conversation, the youngest appearing brave came toward her. Timing her slash to meet his advance, Jenny carved a long gash into his chest. He yelped in pain, and jumped back. As a shorter, fatter man drew his knife and approached, she heard the third shout what could only be a leader’s command. The second brave retreated. The third, tall and with well defined bronzed muscles, and with shining, black, shoulder length hair, approached her stealthily. Again timing her attack, she slashed out at him. This time her knife met only air, but she received a powerful blow to her wrist which caused her to release the knife. It fell harmlessly to the cabin’s dirt floor. Jenny stood, deeply afraid, but filled with the fighting instinct born of that fear.

As she tried to strike out with her clawed hands, the bronze man grasped her wrist and his grip held her immobile. With his other hand, he turned her head back and forth, speaking to his companions as he did so. He pointed to her face, then to her father’s body, and grunted something. When Jenny didn’t answer, he did it again, and she realized he was asking if her father had done this. Jenny shook her head yes, afraid to speak and reveal her fear with her voice. The bronze man glowered at the corpse on the floor, put an arm around her slim waist, and carried her out of the cabin. Once outside, he placed her on a horse, and effortlessly leaped on behind her. A few moments later, the other three joined him, one carrying the rifle and knife, one leading her father’s horse, and the other holding her mother’s best shawl against his bleeding chest. As they rode away, Jenny looked back and saw yellow flames licking the cabin walls.

For three days they rode, stopping only for a drink of water from streams and a few hours rest. They started no fire, and Jenny shivered through the night in the thin, summer night dress she still wore. She slept little when they stopped because of the cold, and was too afraid to sleep during the day. On the third day, they approached a village, nestled in a wide valley, which consisted of twenty or so hide tipis. Jenny could see people gathering to greet the party, the adults talking and many children racing to and fro in anticipation. As they stopped in the midst of the crowd, her captor began speaking. As he spoke, the people’s expressions changed from interest to laughter when he pointed to the youth with her knife wound across his chest. He then dismounted, pulled her roughly from the horse, and pushed her toward a group of women in buckskin dresses.

The oldest of the group grabbed Jenny and stared at her face. As Jenny was thinking that this toothless old woman did not like her very much, the woman grabbed her night dress and tore it from her body. The woman then painfully pinched her firm breasts and soft, gracile hips, and stroked the lush “V” of black hair on her belly. She laughed and turned to the rest of the women, and spoke more unrecognizable words. Some of the other women nodded, and some laughed, but Jenny saw one woman with kindness and sympathy in her eyes. The woman was older than Jenny, by about ten years, and was not pretty; her nose had been broken, and she was fat through the belly, hips and thighs. She reminded Jenny of a beaten dog, wanting to play, but cowering in fear.

Jenny was pushed to an open fire where the toothless old woman pointed to the small pile of firewood, then pointed to a small grove of trees. She pointed again, and then pushed Jenny in the direction of the grove. “She wants firewood”, thought Jenny, and started toward the grove. The old matron followed her to the grove and watched as Jenny gathered wood. When Jenny picked up a branch still holding leaves, she was reprimanded with a stinging slap across her hips. Jenny had soon picked up an armload of wood, walked back to the fire and dumped the wood. The matron had followed, and pushed her back toward the grove. Jenny spent the rest of the day carrying firewood under the watchful eyes of most of the camp, and by nightfall had enough wood for the whole camp, and enough scrapes and scratches on her breasts and belly to cause her pain with every move. The matron nodded approval, and pushed Jenny into a ragged looking tipi. She landed on some worn, dirty hides placed on the floor, and looked up to see Broken Nose staring at her.

Broken Nose said something, and pointed to Jenny’s scrapes. She rummaged through a leather bag, and produced a small gut bag. After untying the top, Broken Nose inserted two fingers and scooped out a white greasy substance. Jenny recoiled as Broken Nose reached for her, but Broken Nose smiled a crooked smile, and touched her fingers lightly to Jenny’s scraped breast. She began rubbing the ointment into the damaged tissue, and Jenny smelled the scent of wild roses. Broken Nose treated each and every cut and scrape, and Jenny relaxed somewhat as the soft, slender fingertips massaged the pain away. As Broken Nose finished, someone threw a few chunks of meat through the tipi entrance. Broken Nose retrieved them, and gave some to Jenny. Jenny was famished and gulped down the meat without even tasting it. She looked to her companion for more, but received only a shrug and a handful of leaves with hairy surfaces. Broken Nose made signs for her to eat, and Jenny was so hungry she wolfed down the sour tasting stuff.

After they finished the leaves, Broken Nose stood up and removed her dress. Jenny’s mother had told her about pregnancy, and though Jenny had never seen a pregnant woman, she was sure that Broken Nose was with child. What had seemed like a fat belly was really a rounded bulge that started at her thighs and ended just under her ribs. Broken Nose saw her watching, and walked to Jenny. She placed Jenny’s hand on her swollen belly. Jenny felt a small poke, then another. Broken Nose smiled, made a quiet giggling sound, and then lay down. She was soon snoring softly, and after finding one of the cleaner hides to cover herself, Jenny also slept.

She awoke the next day in the dazed state brought by too little sleep for a too tired body. She remembered where she was, and pulled her hide close around her. Broken Nose stepped in the tipi entrance with more cooked meat, and gave Jenny her share. Jenny hadn’t realized that she was hungry until she smelled the meat, and she wolfed it down as quickly as she could. Broken Nose ate more slowly, and then beckoned Jenny to follow her outside. She led Jenny to some fresh deer hides piled a short distance from their tipi. Kneeling beside one hide, Broken Nose began to stake it to the ground with sharp, wooden pegs. She drove several of the pegs, and then motioned for Jenny to do the same. Jenny selected a hide and started to stake it down. She had driven a few pegs when Broken Nose stopped her by shaking her head and holding Jenny’s arm. She showed Jenny that she needed to stretch the hide as she staked. Jenny began again, stretching the hide as she went, and Broken Nose smiled her approval.

After they had staked out all the hides, Broken Nose handed Jenny a long bone with a flat sharpened end, and showed her how to scrape the hide to remove the bits of fat, bloody tissue, and membranes that remained after the animal was skinned. Jenny worked hard to scrape the hide down to the true skin, and when she was finished leaned back to examine her work. She smiled to herself, then looked at Broken Nose. Broken Nose was smiling back and nodding her head as if to say that Jenny had done well. They worked the rest of the day preparing the hides for tanning into leather, and late in the evening, retired to their tipi. As they sat resting after the day’s labor, a deep, male voice just outside the tipi called. Broken Nose rose, walked to the tipi entrance, and after a short conversation, returned with a large piece of venison skewered on a roasting stick. The meat was hot and brown and dripping juices on the floor hides as Broken Nose presented it to Jenny. Broken Nose then made sounds and gestures that Jenny did not understand, and she returned the words with silence and a confused look. Broken Nose looked irritated for a moment, then took the venison and divided it with her knife. She gave half to Jenny, and took the other half for herself. They ate in silence.

Broken Nose touched Jenny’s shoulder to get her attention. Broken Nose pointed to herself and said, “tohnapah.”

Jenny pointed to herself and said, “Jenny.” Broken Nose shook her head, and repeated the word. She then pointed to her breasts and said the word again.

“Oh, she is saying, woman”, thought Jenny. “She is telling me that she and I are women. Tohnapah.”

Jenny then pointed to herself, and again said, “Jenny.”

She then pointed to Broken Nose, and asked, “your name?” Broken Nose thought for a minute, and then said, “Tonasa.”

She then pointed at Jenny, and said, “Chenny?”

When Jenny nodded, Tonasa smiled and said with finality, “Chenny.”

Jenny replied, “Tonasa”, and Tonasa beamed a warm smile and laughed.

Tonasa then giggled, let her arm drop between her legs, wagged it up and down, and said, “napah”, and giggled again.

When Jenny didn’t understand, Tonasa held her arm stiffly out and made thrusting motions with her hips. “napah.”

Jenny laughed as she learned the Kiowa name for man.

Tonasa then said, “napah... Chenny”, and made the motion of giving something to Jenny. She then pointed to the roasting stick. Jenny understood that a man had given the meat to her, not to Tonasa. She went to sleep, pleased that someone would do that, but wondered who.

By the time Jenny woke, she was feeling the labor of the day before. She was also feeling the effects of the sun on her naked body. In the bright light of the sun, Jenny was as pink as the sweet peas on the vines that grew in the small grove of trees. The heat of the sun set her skin on fire, and she moaned in pain every time the sleeping hide touched her body. When Tonasa recognized her condition, she went to the leather bags that lined the inside of the tipi, and found her ointment bag. She made Jenny sit down, and began to gently spread the ointment on her body. Tonasa was especially gentle on Jenny’s breasts and shoulders as these areas were burnt worst. Soon Jenny was cooler, and the oily ointment softened her dry, red skin. Tonasa went back to her bags, rummaged around, and found a ragged buckskin dress. She motioned for Jenny to put it on. It was too short, and was stained, but it was clothing. “At least I’m not naked now”, thought Jenny, and smiled her thanks to Tonasa.

They worked together every day, always helping each other complete the tasks assigned by the toothless old matron who seemed to be in control of their fate. As they worked, Tonasa would point out trees, rocks, birds, anything that came to her mind, and give Jenny the Kiowa name. She also taught Jenny the words for go, come, talk, and many other simple actions so that in a few days Jenny could understand much of what Tonasa said, although she felt like she was conversing like a child. Through this simple language, and much use of pantomime, Jenny began to learn the skills needed to survive on the prairie as a Kiowa.

A week later, one of the youngest men galloped into camp, breathlessly shouting to the women to bring all they would need for the task of butchering and preserving. The women all fastened travois to horses, shouldered heavy packs, and began riding and walking after the rider. Jenny and Tonasa also prepared packs, and, pulling their travois because they had no horse, joined the group. After walking about an hour, they reached the top of a small rise, and Jenny saw dead buffalo spread out all over the plain. The women began to chatter among themselves, and then rushed to the dead animals. Each seemed to pick a certain one, and Jenny asked Tonasa why.

Tonasa explained that each animal was marked by the hunter who killed it, and his woman searched until she found his mark. She also said there would be some unmarked animals, and they should look for those. After some searching, Tonasa located a small cow with no marking. Tonasa began to dress out the animal as Jenny watched. Jenny had helped butcher the deer her father shot, and dressing buffalo was nearly the same, only the animal was larger. As Tonasa worked, Jenny went in search of a carcass to work on. She looked at a large bull, then saw the ear notches. She turned to leave, and nearly fell into the arms of the tall, bronzed warrior who had captured her.

He pushed the black hair away from his face, said a few words in Kiowa that Jenny did not understand, pointed to himself, and opened his hands to her. Tonasa was at her side, and said, ” He Mahtotopah. He be leader someday. Buffalo, he kill. Give you. Mahtotopah say Chenny good woman.” Jenny looked back at the warrior, but he had turned and started to walk away. Jenny stared at his slim, muscular hips clad only in a breechcloth, at his wide shoulders accented by the mane of jet black hair, and at his easy manner of walking; something stirred inside her that she didn’t understand. She wanted to ask Tonasa, but didn’t know enough words.

Jenny began dressing the buffalo, but the stone knife Tonasa gave her was not very sharp and the task was difficult. She was soon covered in buffalo blood, offal, and bits of hair. She was nearly done when she heard a commotion to her left. She turned to see one of the women of the tribe trying to take a haunch of meat from Tonasa. Jenny ran to Tonasa and stepped between her and the other woman. As the woman slashed out with her knife, Jenny jumped aside, used her foot to trip the woman, and then jumped on her as she fell to the ground. They erupted in a fury of flying hair, clawed fingers searching for face and eyes, small fists pounding soft bodies.

Tonasa was screaming for her to stop, but the emotions of the past few days, and her shock that the woman was trying to steal from Tonasa and her unborn baby had inflamed Jenny to rage; she was past reason. They might have fought until one or the other was killed had not a strong bronzed arm circled Jenny’s waist and pulled her off. As she struggled to get away, Mahtotopah said something to the woman that made her spit, turn and leave. He spoke to Tonasa, who resumed her labor over the carcass, and then sat Jenny on the ground. He said the words for “yours” and “Tonasa’s”, and pointed to the carcasses. Jenny thought she saw his expression soften a bit, and he smiled at her.

It was after dark when the butchering was completed and the women began loading the hides and carcasses on packs and travois. Jenny and Tonasa did the same, and as the rest of the tribe set out toward their camp, they shouldered the heavy travois and started to follow. They arrived last, and saw many fires blazing brightly. Tonasa pointed to the fires and said “animals... chase away.” They started their own fire, and for the first time since she was taken captive, Jenny ate her fill of rich, roasted buffalo.

The next morning, the cutting and drying began. Tonasa had shown Jenny how to cut deer meat into thin, long strips, and how to hang them over drying racks made from slender tree branches, but this task was much larger because of the size of the animals. Soon the whole camp was covered with buffalo hanging from drying racks. Overhead, many birds circled, and Jenny learned that the children of the camp had the task of keeping the birds away. If a bird flew off with a piece of meat, the child responsible would get a tongue lashing at best, and probably a sound slap on the rear. Jenny worked hard, slicing and hanging the meat. She felt irritable today, and the sounds of the children grated on her nerves. If her knife slipped and spoiled a cut, irritability changed to despair at her ineptness.