Yet, for the same three days and three nights Daasé Isée still hadn't awakened. Strikes Fast, however, didn't despair. Sun, the Creator, was now guiding his hand. He knew she would awaken soon enough and be well.
It was on the fourth day when Strikes Fast—who was sitting by his wife's side, though he was asleep sitting up—awakened to the sound of her voice, and she said, almost shouting, "Strikes Fast!"
"Here…am I," he said in English. Her hand was still held within his own. Truly, unless he was attending to her, he rarely let go of her hand.
"What happened? Wait! I remember now. There was a boy…."
"He is here." Then with only one hand, Strikes Fast signed, "The boy and I have been caring for you, though it is the Creator's hand in this, your recovery, and it is He who has healed you."
"The Creator? Oh my! Thank you to all of you. How long have I been asleep?"
"It has been seven suns now—four suns since I spoke with Sun, the Creator, and three suns previous to that."
"Ah, yes. I remember what happened now. A large sheet of ice fell from a tall tree above me and hit me."
"It…is so," Strikes Fast answered in English.
"Where is the boy?"
Strikes Fast signed the question to the boy, who scooted toward her, coming to sit on Strikes Fast's far side.
She smiled at the lad and, with one hand, asked in sign, "What were you doing all alone, here on the side of a mountain? Where are your parents?"
In the same manner of speaking, the boy signed, "My father died in a fight with the Crow. My mother perished with him, but the Crow did not kill me. Instead, they left me alone where I stood, to either survive or to die. When you came upon me, I was traveling south, trying to return to my own people, the Lakota. But, when the black blizzard struck this mountain, I became lost. A white bear came to me and helped me find food and slept next to me to keep me warm. She then led me to the creek, but when I tried to cross it, the ice broke and I fell into the water. This same bear tried to rescue me, but when she saw you, she waited until you swam to me and brought me ashore, and then she left to go to her own family."
"This is a fantastic story," Daasé Isée said, then signed the words.
"But…true," said Strikes Fast in English. However, because he didn't speak English well enough, he resorted to sign and said, "Do you remember the story I told you about animals coming to the aid of people?"
She nodded, then said to the boy in English, "I am happy we have found each other." However, she soon spoke in sign language to the boy, and she asked, "What are you called?"
"Rising Bear," he signed.
"Rising Bear," she repeated. "It is a good name." Then, to Strikes Fast, she signed, "I need to go outside for a moment. Will you help me?"
"I will," he signed. "And, when we return here, we will celebrate your return to us with a feast of fresh meat." He smiled.
"Good, this is very good," she signed. Then she continued, "How wonderful it is to be here with you both. And a feast! I suddenly realize I am quite hungry."
And, with his hand encompassing her own, Strikes Fast helped her to sit up, and, taking her up in his arms, he crawled toward the entrance flap on his knees. At the very next chance, Strikes Fast said a silent prayer of thanks to the Creator.
****
For the next several days, Strikes Fast, his woman and the boy did little more than eat, tell stories and play a few games of chance. And, although he had ordered his wife to rest, thus allowing both he and the boy to attend to her and the chores, she hadn't listened. Weak at first, she had refused to let them do all the work. Yet, within a short few days, she had regained her strength and had joined them in doing the work needed to be done within their lodge. However, neither Strikes Fast nor the boy allowed her to do any heavy lifting.
It was now four days since Daasé Isée had awakened, and she seemed to have recovered both swiftly and completely. Her cheeks were rosy again, her grip was strong and her laughter was as bright as he remembered it to be.
Daily Strikes Fast said his prayers. And, every morning, all three of them conducted what had become a daily ritual: before any of them left the lodge, they painted one another in the same way Daasé Isée had first done for her husband.
Life was good here in their little shelter.
On this particular night, Strikes Fast took note of the boy; he was attempting to whittle a figurine, but his efforts to make the wood look like anything recognizable were not good. His small hands seemed unable to hold both knife and wood at the same time. Often he dropped the knife, and once he cut himself.
Because his wife had lain down to sleep early, Strikes Fast came to sit by the boy and asked, "What are you making?"
The boy replied, signing, "Rising Bear"—he pointed at himself—"is making a bear to protect your woman. The white bear came to me and helped me; I wish to give her the same protection."
Strikes Fast said, "Itche, good. You are doing well. Would you like any help?"
