For a moment, the music stopped, and she stepped in closer to the lodge she shared with Stands Strong, where she petted and bound Naato Omitaa to his post, kissing the pony on his head. It was then when the music started again, and she recognized it was coming from within her own lodge.
Obviously, Stands Strong had to be within. Inhaling deeply for strength of mind, she pushed back the entrance flap and stepped inside.
It wasn't long before she recognized the sad, ethereal melody her husband was playing. Oddly, it was her own song—one she had composed this very day. But, for a reason she didn't know, his playing it on his flute sounded even more sorrowful than her own song had been.
But, surely he hadn't been there with her today. And, if not, how did he know this melody?
Coming a little farther into their tepee, she stepped toward her quarters within their lodge and sat directly across from Stands Strong. She didn't look up at him. Gazing down, she simply listened.
The song went on and on, and when at last the melody stopped, she glanced up to find her husband gazing back at her, his countenance serious. She sighed; was he going to lecture her again?
But, he said not a word. Instead, as he sat before her, he looked at her wistfully as though he would like nothing better than to take her into his arms.
He did not do it, however. Instead, they sat there together, merely staring at each other in silence—and for what appeared to be a very long while, indeed.
At last, he said, "I have saddened you, and it was not in my heart to do this to you when we spoke earlier. I wish I could take back my words and my anger, but I cannot. What was done is done. All I can do now is to try to make it better for you."
She looked away from him, and she felt her lips shaking as she said, "I, too, am saddened by our talk, and I realize now I, too, should not have said what I said to you. I apologize. You should know, though, that I meant what I said then. But still, I am deeply grieved to have caused you to become disappointed in me. My husband, I do not know what to do. I still feel as I did then, though it greatly grieves me."
"I know," he uttered softly. "I admit part of my anger was because of jealousy, and this is not right. But, part of it was also concern for your safety. Because of the manner in which you have been raised, I fear there is a danger for you here."
"You mean, do you not, because of my belief in my right to seek love outside of marriage?"
He nodded.
She sat forward a little. "But, my husband, this is no longer how I think or what I feel. When I said my vows to you, thisnotion fled from me forever. I love you, my husband, and only you—and with all my heart. There is no place in my heart for any other man but you."
He nodded. "So it is with me, also. I, too, feel this way about you. But, hear me on this," he said when she began to speak again. "Men are stronger than women. The Creator has made it so. And, when a man wants a woman, he is inclined to take her regardless of her wishes, because, my wife, to the men of these plains, white or red, you are sought after much like the white men seek gold. Many will lust after a woman so beautiful as you, and they will wish to take what is not theirs to take. Your talking with them can reinforce this lust within a man and give him cause to think you favor him. And, this is the danger."
"But, I never had this problem in the land where I was raised," she countered. "I was free to speak to whomever I wished. Not all men wish to take what is not theirs."
Again he nodded, then said, "This may be, but you are no longer in the land where you were raised. I do not lie to you about a man's nature in this place where you now find yourself. My problem is this: I cannot always be here with you. There are times when I have duties elsewhere.
"Now, Indian mothers know this about the nature of men," he continued, "and they shelter their daughters until they marry. But, once she is married, it is the duty of her husband to protect her, and this I cannot do if I am not here. And yet, though I know your speaking to a man tempts him, I also understand your right to talk to whomever you choose. This is the way in which you have been raised, and you are right about this. The Creator gives you this right."
Czanna sat in silence. She understood and yet…
"But," he continued, "perhaps there is a way to make us both happy about your speaking to other men, even when I am not here to protect you."
"Yes?There is?"
"I have given this much thought," he said as he laid down his flute, the instrument, she noted, fashioned much like a recorder instead of a flute. It looked very much like a long bird with a red plume on its head at the end of the flute and its mouth open. It was also decorated with feathers and beads, and it was an instrument like no other she had ever seen.
Stands Strong, having placed his flute aside, came up to his feet and trod around the fireplace, which now contained a fire happily burning, crackling and spitting out sparks that were contained by the stones placed around it.
Sitting down beside her, Stands Strong took her hand in his own and said, "I begin to think this way: if you were equipped to go about your duties well-armed with shotgun, pistol and knives, and if you knew how to use those weapons like a man, I would perhaps not worry about your safety so much.
"It would require an effort for us both," he went on to say. "I would be required to train you on your weapon's use, but more. I would have need to ensure you would be of a mindset to use those firearms against another if there were to be a need of having to defend yourself. You see, a woman's heart can be soft, and she might hesitate to act instead of presenting a solid force against a man's intention. Because he is stronger and trained for war, if a woman would hesitate to use her weapons against him, he could take these from her and use them against her."
"Really? You would do this for me?"
He nodded, then continued, "I do not wish to enforce rules upon you which are strange to you and are about matters you do not agree are right. But, be warned: what I am suggesting would require your having to follow me each day out on the hunt so I could ensure your aim is good and your spirit is set to do what must be done to survive against a man's lust if necessary, but—"
"I would have to follow you to hunt and learn how to kill an animal for food, and I would also need to be with you day in and day out while I would be learning to shoot?"
"I fear it is the only way."
"Well, my husband, I do not understand why this seems to sadden you. I think it is a very good idea. Indeed, it is so good, I am wondering if we might start now…tonight?"
