He grinned at her. "Have I done a deed to make you believe I am angry?"
"Well, for one," said Czanna, "you shot your gun into the air."
"What I used to fire off the shot was my rifle. Not a gun."
"Rifle, then," agreed Czanna. "What did I do? I know instinctively that you are angry with me, though you try to hide it."
Czanna looked on as her new husband sighed, then he grunted in his throat, the sound low, much like a growl. She waited for his response, and as she did so, she glanced around their newly loaned lodge. It was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.
It was much roomier than she would have ever imagined one of these tepees might be. It was probably eight to nine meters across or, as the Americans might say, about twenty-six feet. And, both she and Stands Strong could stand up straight within it with a good deal of room above their heads.
Long and slender, though sturdy poles made the shape of the lodge, and a buffalo hide—which was none too light and consisted of about twenty-eight hides sewn together—kept the interior of the lodge cool. "Ear flaps" at the tops of the poles could be adjusted in order to allow the smoke to rise.
Also, today Czanna had asked and had learned why the outer part of the tepee was slightly raised up from the ground. The reason was because the inner tepee liner—their own being colorfully decorated in shapes of triangles and circles—fell completely to the ground, which allowed air to come in between the outer buffalo hide and the liner, which in turn allowed the people inside to adjust the temperature within the structure.
It was a simple style of architecture, but highly efficient and portable. And, were she to think more deeply about it, she would have to admit it was quite ingenious.
But, at last it appeared Stands Strong was going to answer her, and she gave him her full attention.
"I am not angry with you," he said. "However, I admit I am disappointed."
"What? What have I done to disappoint you?" she asked.
Again, he didn't speak to her at once. Instead, he turned and stepped toward the "men's" side of the tepee; then he sat down, and, gesturing toward her, he invited her to do the same.
When she had at last settled down with her legs together and to the left, he began, and he said, "You allowed these men to speak to you and even laughed with one of the better-looking of them. This is what disappoints me."
"He was not so very good-looking. Not as handsome as you are."
Stands Strong nodded, but not even a hint of a teasing smile crossed over his countenance. At some length, he said, "His pleasant looks are not what causes me to be disappointed. It is your speaking to him at all, and also to the others. When I sought you out, I did not anticipate finding you to be the center of attraction for those men."
"Oh, I see," she said at once. "But, my husband, I have every right to laugh if someone—male or female—makes a joke. It was an honest reaction and quite a good response, I should say."
"Not if the one making the joke is a man when you are a woman," he countered at once.
"Oh, please." She made a face. "It was nothing."
Stands Strong shook his head. "It is not…nothing. Consider this: our tribe is small. Only in the summer do we gather together like we are now in a large group. No one wishes there to be jealousy or fighting between the men of the tribe because of a woman's flirtation with another man." Suggestively, he pointed to his nose. "There could be consequences."
"Flirtation? Are you telling me you think I was flirting with that man simply because I laughed at his joke?"
"Were you not?" he answered with the question.
"This is ridiculous," she uttered, pouring deliberate disdain into her tone. "Are you telling me I am not 'allowed' to talk to the other fifty-percent of the human race simply because I am female and the other fifty-percent is male?"
"I do not know what this 'fifty-percent' is, but this I do know: when we are encamped, yes, you are not to talk to a man unless he is related to you."
She sat unmoving for many moments. At last, she asked, "Are you serious?"
He nodded.
She paused, letting this information seep into her mind, along with other pertinent facts. After a while, she frowned, then said, "Well, I won't do it."
Her husband said nothing at first. And, he sat so still he could have been a rock instead a living being. At last, he said, "My woman, try to understand. You are beautiful. You are white. Many men, Indian and white, would enjoy talking to you, and occasionally they will try to touch you, as one of those men did today. The impulse to do so would be irresistible. And so, if you insist upon this path and speak to any man you please, I think you will bring me much trouble."
Czanna was stunned, and again she found it difficult to speak…but only for a moment. After the slight pause, she said, "Then, I guess you'd better get used to having a lot of trouble in your life, because I will not let you forbid me from speaking to the other half of the human race whenever I please. Further, I would like to point out that women, like men, were endowed by their Creator with the right and the gift to speak to whomever they wish to talk to and about any subject they wish to speak about. What you are asking me to do is against how the Creator made each one of us. And, I will have no part in it."
Again he touched his nose, but it served to only irritate her further, and she asked, "Are you threatening me?"
