the LEGEND of She-Cat

Chapter Nine

I couldn't explain his sudden interest in watching me and fidgeted, daring another look back at him. His mouth didn't move, but the faint light of a smile bloomed in his eyes. I abruptly jerked away, getting to my feet. I needed to be busy! The long days of inactivity were wearing thin. Making a fresh pair of moccasins had not taken more than a day, and I needed nothing else.

Even the normal tasks of day to day life I was accustomed to were absent, for this white man required none of the routines I had always kept. Not that I would have openly offered to care for him or his belongings, but had he demanded it of me, habit would have taken over. Still, not even those tasks were given as a relief to me. Wandering from camp, I abruptly jerked to a halt when I realized I had moved toward the horses. Whirling around, I found the white man watching me calmly, not having moved from where he sat, smoking.

Our eyes met across the distance, and he continued to regard me quietly, making no move at all. Warily, avoiding the picket line, I approached the horses, keeping my back to him. When he did not call to stop me, I let my hands trace the gelding's shoulder and neck before reaching the mare. Rubbing her face and neck, I brushed my fingers through the multi-colored mane.

"You are a strong heart lovely one," I whispered softly "I have never seen another like you, not in all this wide land."

Beginning to chant softly at first, I gradually lifted my voice in the melody of an ancient song of my people, leaning my head against the mare's neck. I liked the smooth feel of powerful muscle under her glossy hide. The gelding ambled closer, nosing my arm as if searching for a treat. There was nothing in my hand and he regarded me solemnly, the depths of his large brown eyes clear and trusting. I smiled reaching out to stroke him.

"You are brave and fearless," I told him "You are fit for a warrior..."

I happened to look up at that moment and my eyes fell on the white man. Still by the fire, his eyes were on me in a fixed look that I knew well. It burned into me even at that distance. Memory was stirred to life, of a time when a man's touch had been welcome. What disturbed and puzzled me was the lack of disgust, the strange sensation of near acceptance to his gaze. Suddenly angry with myself, I shook my head fiercely and turned my back to him, not returning to the fire the rest of the night.

The soft nicker of the gelding woke me the next morning and sitting up to the cool air of dawn I shivered, my skin prickling with cold. It took a moment to remember I was not among the Inde, that I had run away. In my dreams, Itza-chu always caught up. The wide-open sky above was pink and gray, with no clouds in sight. The day would be pleasant. Approaching from the camp, his steps easy and smooth, the white rider came directly to me, dropping to a knee in the grass. I watched him with guarded eyes, stiff and unsure.

"I didn't figure there was anything walkin' this earth that could scare you," he almost seemed to smile then. "It was surely a surprise to find you'd buck at a little approvin' look."

He held out a hand to me without seeming to demand I take it.

"Come on, I'll mind myself."

His tone boarded on playful and I scowled disapprovingly at him for grown men did not play, that was for children, boys. My severe look was met with a genuine smile this time, one spreading slowly across his features. He extended his fingers wider toward me.

"No need to be shy, I've got coffee on," he persisted.

"Why do you waste your words?" I couldn't help myself but kept my low tone stiff. "You know that I do not understand."

Gradually I had left behind the habit of thinking and speaking the language of my captors, using only the tongue of my own people. I know he did not understand, but I could tell he liked hearing me speak.