CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Oh, if only winter would remain here and spring never would come!
Sharon had not known a human being was capable of feeling such joy. The next several days had become like a blessing.
Each day would start the same way: she and Strikes Fast would awaken, they would make love and then he would comb her hair, leaving it long and unbraided. He'd told her he preferred her hair to remain unclipped. Braiding, he'd told her, was done mostly to keep the hair out of one's eyes because of the constant barrage of the winds in this country.
Then he would leave to bathe in the icy stream outside and attend to the ponies, while she visited the sweat lodge. As soon as this was done, she would prepare a quick breakfast of dried meat. And, when he returned from his task, as promised, she would she paint his soul—from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. These actions had become so much a ritual with them, they simply didn't start their day without each part of it being performed.
And, she couldn't recall a time when she had ever been happier.
When the snow and winds permitted, Strikes Fast would hunt, but mostly they waited out the winter storm's snowy blast by remaining in their warm and comfortable shelter. During the day, they made love and she also gave him lessons in the English language.
At night, he, in turn, related stories and legends to her; they were stories from the Pikuni people as well as from his own tribe, the Crow. He told her about how the Little People shared this land with his people, the Crow. He also divulged how he had come to know the two Pikuni medicine men, and how, in seeking revenge, he had led Eagle Heart's enraged father-in-law to Eagle Heart and his new wife. Strikes Fast went on to tell Sharon how Eagle Heart, Eagle Heart's wife and Gray Falcon had saved his sister and her baby. And, he admitted to this being the reason he now lived with the Pikuni people.
Another one of the stories he'd told her was how a white bear had helped a Crow woman and her daughter to survive after they had escaped their capture by the Lakota. Strikes Fast had even gone on to give Sharon a piece of advice:
"If ever," he had said in sign, "I am not with you and you find yourself alone in this country and unable to find food or to get back to your people, ask for help. You must ask, however, before it will be given. There are many animals and other creatures who will hear you and will help you if you plead for a helper. Never fear an animal—even a bear—who comes to you if you are alone in this country. Bears, wolves, skunks, even beavers have helped our people when they had no hope. These animals have hunted food for us; they have even helped the lost people to dig for roots. Always ask; do not fear it or your helper."
At the time, Sharon had simply nodded. He, however, had repeated the instructions three more times—to ensure she understood all he had said, he'd told her.
Even when the blizzard had at last spent its fury and some of the snow had melted away, they remained in the same location, both of them reluctant to return to the world at large.
What happened next was on one of those days when Strikes Fast was away from their camp, hunting.
At first, Sharon thought a bobcat had found their camp; there were high-pitched and fierce screams filtering into the lodge from outside. And, they seemed to be close.
Frightened, she armed herself with both pistol and knife, but she dared not go out to investigate. However, after a time, she began to think the screams sounded like they were coming from a person in trouble instead of a cat.
A person in trouble? Here? With snow several feet deep? High up in these rough and almost impassable mountains?
Still, she wouldn't have been quite human if she didn't feel an urge to investigate. But, what if she were wrong? What if it were a bobcat, after all? Or an enemy warrior?
But, when the screams continued and escalated, she found even her fear couldn't keep her from investigating.
Crawling to the hut's entrance, she grabbed her cape and threw it over her shoulders. Quickly, she placed both pistol and a knife into her pockets and then crawled out of the shelter. Looking carefully around, she saw nothing—no cat, no human. Then came another scream, and she quickly stepped toward the sound. It was coming from the small coulee which was only a short distance from their camp.
Sharon knew a little about this coulee since a deep creek ran at the bottom of it, this being the place where Strikes Fast bathed every day. As the screams became more desperate, she quickened her steps, forging through the thick underbrush until she stood at the top of the coulee. Peeping down into the shallow ravine, she saw a thing unbelievable.
It was a child!
A child, here on the side of a mountain? In the first blizzard of the season? Alone? She didn't hesitate, though. She hurried toward the child, sometimes sliding and sometimes climbing down into the coulee.
It was a boy who was perhaps seven years in age, who had somehow gotten himself into the middle of the water and was clinging desperately to a large sheet of ice. Most of his body was in the water, and his hold upon the ice seemed to be failing.
Sharon ran the rest of the way down the cliff. Obviously the boy had been negotiating his way across the river on the ice, when it had suddenly broken.
Could she save him?
She didn't even think about what might happen if she failed. Gaining the shoreline of the waterway, she plunged into the icy stream and waded toward him until she was forced to swim the rest of the distance to him.
"I'm coming for you!" she yelled. "Hold on!"
Inch by slow inch, she swam until she reached him. Without pausing for breath, she took him into her arms, placed him upon her back with his arms around her neck, then she headed back to the shore. He was not a light load, and somewhere between the sheet of ice in the water and the shoreline, the pain in her side caused her to stop. Was she to drown with him?
But, what was this? In attempting to tread water, her feet touched the rocky bottom of the creek. She let out a sigh of relief as she walked the boy back to the shore, placing him a short distance away from her. She had lost a shoe in the water and had taken a step back into the water when, from above, she heard a crack, and, looking up, she beheld a broken sheet of ice from a tree above her careening to the ground.
She screamed as she leapt away to avoid getting hit by what had now become a projectile. But, she didn’t move fast enough. The heavy sheet of ice fell directly on her, hitting her on the head and knocking her down. And, as she went down and blackness filled her vision, she cried inside, fearing she would never see Strikes Fast again in this life.
