CHAPTER ELEVEN
A few days later—and early in the morning—Stands Strong's and First Rider's families came riding in close to their camp at Sacagawea Springs. Czanna heard their laughter and gaiety first, then both she and Briella stepped out from their shelter hidden in the willows to watch them.
Although there were only the two families coming to visit, there were many people in the procession. The prairie was flat between the hills and the numerous coulees surrounding Sacagawea Springs. And, from where Czanna stood, she had an easy view of the numerous, colorful and happy people forming a line across the flat land.
What she hadn't expected to hear from this group was their laughter and gaiety. It caught Czanna off guard; these were not a somber and moody people. So, once again, the truth was set before her to see. Indeed, the Europeans telling their stories about these people had lied.
There was noise: the talking and laughter, the giggling of children at their play, the neighing of ponies. And, there was color, lots of color in the beading and the delicate painting of their clothing; there were reds and blues and whites as well as yellows and oranges and greens. Even the ponies upon which they rode were painted with the same hues and designs of their owners. Added to the colors, those ponies were each carrying what had to be the families' numerous possessions in bags painted red, blue,yellow, orange, green and white, some of the parfleches being large and some were small.
Never had she seen a procession such as this. Placing her hand over her eyes, she saw there were four men in all; two were leading the procession and two were following in back of it. All four of these men—who looked to be in their late thirties or early-to-mid forties—all appeared to be rugged, yet handsome at the same time.
The two men who were in the lead were each one sitting upon a handsome pony, one of those steeds in the lead being a white stallion. Behind them came a complete entourage of women, children, dogs and horses followed behind. Of the two men who pulled up the rear of the entire party, one sat astride a white stallion, while the other rode a black-and-white spotted Appaloosa. Seeing them, Czanna now understood, because of her own experience in moving camp, these two men riding behind the entire party were the procession's rearguard.
There were five women with the party, two of them wearing white, beaded buckskin dresses, while the other three wore different shades of beautifully beaded and tanned buckskin dresses. Three of the five women were sitting astride horses that were each pulling a travois, while the two other women—one carrying a baby in a cradleboard upon her back—walked along at the side of the ponies. These two women who were afoot were deep in conversation, though every now and again they laughed.
There were also many children running about in all different directions, and Czanna, who had been trying to count them, soon lost track of exactly how many youngsters were a part of the troupe. Several of the younger boys were engaged in playing games, one of the sports appearing to be much like tag. All of the girls—except for the very youngest of them—were carrying dolls and were quietly talking to one another, which made them easier for Czanna to count. There was one very young girl who appeared to be about the same age as Briella; she was riding upon one of thetravois which was latched to a horse, and Czanna conjectured the woman riding this pony was the child's mother. Three of the women were clearly white women, though their pale skin looked to be a light shade of tan. But, these women each had a different hue of blonde hair, which clearly boasted their heritage.
Czanna speculated these three had to be the white women Stands Strong had often spoken of. One of them was his almost-mother; but which one?
There were two other women in the procession who were Indian, having the lovely and permanent reddish-tanned skin color. Both were quite beautiful.
Because the entire troupe was slowly coming in closer to her, Czanna could clearly see two boys—perhaps adolescent boys—who were riding alongside the caravan, one on each side of it. And, Czanna, upon more careful observation of the two youths, knew their task was to guard their families also, though from the two opposite sides of the middle of the group.
One of the two men at the front of the procession rode ahead of the other, and Czanna thought this man might be a chief, not only because his dignity boasted the position, but also because of the unusual horned headdress he wore. Gazing at it, she saw at the top of the headdress were two horns, and, because of their size, the horns could be no other than those of the buffalo bull. It was unusually decorated, also. In front were several long white furry skins that hung down both sides of the man's face, falling clearly down to his chest, each skin being little more than a centimeter wide. The same, though shorter, strips of fur decorated the top of the headdress, as well as some brown fur, there at its top. What looked to be eagles' feathers attached to the headdress hung down from it all the way to the man's waist.
His clothing was white, but whether it was from an animal with a white-colored skin or was from an animal of a darker skin bleached white, Czanna could not be certain, being as she was still somewhat distant from him. Decorated with beading down eachsleeve and a beaded strip of leather falling inward from the shoulder, this man's tunic made the sight of him at once dignified. A blue-beaded shell necklace hung down the man's chest in loops, and he looked so elegant she dared to think he might have appeared even more regal than many of the "best people" in Hungary.
As he rode a black prancing stallion, Czanna knew this man had to be a chief.
Following him at a short distance was another handsome man, dressed similarly, but without the horned headdress. This man appeared to be the younger of the two men, though their facial features were similar. However, instead of a horned headdress, this man wore a more typical war bonnet, but it was made in such a way as to cause the feathers to stand straight up, while a cascade of similar feathers hung down from the headdress at the man's back and reached even past his horse's flanks. This man, too, wore all white clothing, his tunic likewise being beaded and decorated in row after row of blue, red and green colors. Both men were mightily armed with bow and arrows, lance, shield, tomahawk and knives. Both carried shotguns upon their laps.
Woe it would be to anyone who might dare to attack them.
Gazing down at her own best light-blue cloth dress, she felt almost drab by comparison. But, it was her best American-bought dress, and it would have to do.
Looking around her own camp, Czanna saw there was no one else but her and her young sister, whom she held by her hand, to greet these people. Where was everybody else? Liliann would be with her father at the springs, of course, but the numerous bushes and tall grasses surrounding the pool hid them from Czanna's view.
Where were the others? Were she and Briella to be the only ones here to greet these people?
Running her free hand down her dress, she pressed the front of her skirt, then took a moment to draw her free hand through herhair, and, for a moment, she wished she looked as elegant as this troupe of people. But, how could she appear to be anything else but wilted? She who, while being afraid of encountering enemies, and who, though being unfamiliar with this country, had yet navigated a prairie wagon single-handedly over the rough prairie terrain and had brought the schooner to this spot safely.
How did these people do it? How did they look so refreshed and so happy despite all the difficulties and dangers of this country?
She was staring at the black-and-white spotted pony of the younger of the two men when it happened: one minute Czanna was holding Briella's hand; the next, her sister twisted her hand, forcing it away from Czanna's grip, then ran forward at the same time toward the chief leading the procession.
"Pretty horsey!" Briella cried, then she laughed gleefully as she sprinted toward it.
Czanna, startled, was not fast enough to respond. And, though she took flight and ran forward as quickly as she could, and though she was shouting "Briella! Stop!" as loudly as she could, she wasn't going to be on time to save her sister from being trampled by the black stallion, which, spooked by the excited youngster, was rearing.
To the man in the lead's credit, he immediately tried to swerve away from the child and control his steed, but even he couldn't make the horse respond quickly enough to prevent its harming Briella. The second man in the lead ran his own horse toward the stallion to try to control it, also.
But, it was impossible. Even now, the horse was bucking and kicking its rear legs, and the two men couldn't quiet it.
As though she were watching the scene from above herself, Czanna realized she was going to be too late to save Briella unless she could sprint even faster. She tried to pick up her speed, then realized they would both be trampled if she could even get to Briella in time.
No! No! This cannot happen! I must save my sister! I must!
"Briella, no! Stop now!" Czanna was shouting with all her might while running with as much speed as she could muster toward the child. "Come back! Please, come back! Please, Briella!"
