Red Fox nodded. "It is a good thought."
"It is more than a thought," First Rider admitted. "It is my wish for it to be so."
They fell silent then, watching as Maká pato'si crawled, periodically rising up to his feet to stumble toward the gate of Fort Benton. Neither of them were startled when the gate suddenly burst open, and there, within the shadow of the fort, appeared the large and stern figure of Henrik, Otahki's father. A shotgun was in Henrik's hand, and behind him strode a man with a gun in his clutches also—a man who appeared to be the "law" in this wild, ungodly place. Behind them stood a crowd ofunsavory-looking men, the grubstakers, who were most likely as equal in banditry as Maká pato'si, himself.
First Rider watched Maká pato'si stand to his feet. But, he had done little more than get up when Henrik strode out to meet him and, without the least bit of hesitation, Henrik slugged Maká pato'si in the face. Henrik followed the blow with a punch in the evil one's stomach, causing Maká pato'si to fall back full-bodied onto the ground. Meanwhile, Henrik was standing over Maká pato'si with his rifle pointed at the man's head, looking as though he considered Maká pato'si to be no less than a fat turkey for dinner.
Reading his father-in-law's lips, First Rider saw Henrik shout out, "Thar's fer what thee did to me own daughter, and no mistake. Take him, Sheriff. Thou be aware of what he did."
The sheriff did as Henrik bid, forcing Maká pato'si to his feet and shoving the man ahead of him. Then the sheriff, as well as many of the grubstakers, sauntered back into the fort. Henrik followed in their wake. But, before Henrik disappeared completely within the inner sanctum of Fort Benton, he turned back and waved his arms at his daughter and First Rider, shouting out over the rushing waves of the river, "Thank thee, me own son-in-law. I be thankin' thee fer all me life. Me own self be glad to see thee found the daughter of me, also. I be comin' to thy camp soon to be honorin' thee now."
First Rider nodded. Then signing "It is done" to his Father-in-law, he and his woman, as well as Red Fox, spun their ponies around, heading toward an easier crossing of the Big River, their destination east and north, directing their path toward the Marias River, where they would find and follow the tracks of the Pikuni people who were most likely, even now, heading toward their summer encampment.
But, before they left altogether, Otahki sat up on her pony, and waving at her father from her position on the other side ofthe Big River, she called out, "I love thee, Father of me. I love thee."
****
Facing east, and from the apex of a ridge jutting up only a short distance away from The-backbone-of-the-world Mountains, Liliann and her husband, First Rider, looked down upon the welcome sight of the Pikuni summer encampment, the tribe having pitched their camp in a sweet prairie meadow. Because the summer had been warm earlier in the year, the meadow, spread out before Liliann and her husband, was green with luscious grass, as well as blue, yellow and white flowers scattered here and there throughout the green.
So mystical did the camp appear, it seemed to Liliann that the camp could very well be a mere illusion rather than the Pikuni encampment which was set in the real world.
Since she and First Rider were sitting upon their ponies and were positioned side by side on this day in early summer, it was easy for them both to see the entire village, since the Pikuni lodges were pitched in a gigantic circle. The tepee's colors of red, yellow, blue and white contributed to the illusion of the camp's surreality.
From her view of it high above the camp, Liliann could observe some of the paintings on the lodges. One was fashioned with stripes, another with triangles or circles, and some showed off the figures of the buffalo, bears or antelope. Colors abounded down there, also. One lodge might be red and blue, another green and white, another yellow, and still there was another tepee painted orange. And, so on.
Quaintly, under the blaze of the morning's summer sun, the village appeared as though it were a circle of a living rainbow come to earth; perhaps even suggesting it might be a place where magic dwelt. This seemed especially so because the encampment was pitched in close to a small and grassy blue-colored lake which was currently reflecting the colors of the bluish grays, pinks and reds of the sky under the influence of the early morning sunrise. And, were it not for the sounds of the laughing and shouting of children at play, the men singing to the steady beat of a drum, the hundreds of dogs barking continuously, as well as the dull hum of women talking or singing as they worked, the encampment might have continued to appear as though it had magically appeared.
But, no. These sounds were definitely American Indian and not reminiscent of anything to do with magic.
Looking outward and beyond the encampment, Liliann beheld the many ridges jutting up from the prairie on the camp's northern side, and, because the tops and sides of the bluffs were decorated with yellow sun-flowers and blue prairie lupines, the village appeared to be peaceful and harmonious. The smoke rising from the "ears" of the lodges brought to her mind a feeling of comfort, and Liliann took in a deep breath of the smoky scent, the sweet smell calming her nerves.
Of course, there were herds of ponies, and the animals stretched out in every direction from the encampment, all of them with their heads down as they munched upon the luxuriant prairie grasses. Looking outward at the scene before her, Liliann felt small in relation to the size of the camp and its surroundings.
But, it wasn't a terrible sensation. It was more of an idea that it was here where she belonged.
Would the friends she had made with the Pikuni four years earlier still be friends? Would they even remember her?
She shook her head as if to rid herself of the thought. How could she have forgotten? Once an Indian gives a person his or her friendship, it is for life. She smiled, and, for a moment, she recalled the warmth of love and friendship she had experienced here with the Pikuni all those years ago.
Truly, there was no doubt in her mind;thiswas her home. This was where she should have been living for the last four years. And, she would have done so if only she had possessed the courage to behold First Rider with his new wife. That her father had needed to relocate with the main body of the Fehér family—the aristocratic family he had served back in Hungary—had seemed to her like a stroke of luck at the time.
But, she was back with the Pikuni now, and she smiled, remembering the encampment as it had been when she had fallen in love. And, at her side, atop his own mount, sat the man she had given her heart to.
Indeed, he was now her husband, or, as the Indians called the relationship, her "man," she being his "woman." The thought caused excitement to rush through her.
First Rider spoke up for the first time since he had earlier forged a path upward to this flat topped hill, their horses climbing over the rocky terrain until they had reached the crest, and, speaking in English, he said, "This home…it is ours. I…welcome you to our camp…and to my life. It…my wish…you be happy with me. Love for you… It…strong."
"I…I also wish thou to be happy with me. This I tell thee truly; my love for thee runs deep."
First Rider, reining in his pony so it would come in closer to her own, leaned over the side of his mount to touch his lips gently to her own.
He said, "A warning: you…not forget my love…for you. When in camp…there always meetings…councils for us men. Our women…meet…gossip while working. Not always…much time…for just us. But, at first…our friends will give us…time alone. Not forget…you…our love."
"I be not forgettin'. Not now or in the future."
"Then, we…go…down there. My friends know…we come. They will have…put up…lodge for us. Many people…come visiting tonight, I think."
"Aye, I be rememberin' this; always there were lots of people who came a-visitin' in the evenin' when I be livin' amongst you four years ago. Ah, I be rememberin' the laughin' and regalin' of all of ye with many stories."
