CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
These were blizzard-like conditions, and as First Rider waded through the waist-deep snow, he bowed his head against the icy blasts of wind blowing directly at him. Indeed, he could barely see where he was going.
This would not do. He could perish out here. Yet, the lives of their ponies depended on him finding them and caring for them.
He passed closely by a tree, then another, they being part of a grove. In truth, there were so many in these dark and gloomy woods on this western side of the Backbone Mountains, it caused one's spirit to plummet. This was a land so unlike his beloved prairie.
But… Unlike the prairie, these trees provided a way in which to mark one's pathway, and because of this, a man could keep his bearings, blizzard or not. Grabbing his knife from his belt, First Rider cut a deep "V" shape onto a tree at shoulder level, then after a few steps he cut another deep "V," and so on, looking for the ponies' trail.
Finally, he saw their tracks ; they were faint, but distinct enough so he could follow them. The winds were fierce, blowing furiously through the grove of trees. Ahead of him a tall tree suddenly crashed to the ground, causing several squirrels and birds to flee, but their direction was not toward him.
And so, he trudged onward.
It happened when First Rider came into a grove of the tall cottonwood trees. The trees were so huge and tall, and their upper branches were so numerous, that the ground beneaththem had accumulated little snow. Indeed, here under the cottonwoods the snow only came up to his ankles. Better yet, the wind didn't whisk through here, blowing snow and ice into his face.
And, then he saw them ahead of him, only a little distance away. The two ponies looked to be content, happily munching on cottonwood bark. Ah, it was good he had chosen his best buffalo runner for this trip. Not only was his horse smart, he was surefooted and fast.
First Rider grinned. His pony had come to his aid this day. Following the ponies' trail, he had found a grove of huge cottonwood trees which would act as a shelter for them. Indeed, all their needs were cared for; he and his mate were enjoying a good breakfast of the trees' bark. And, since there were many trees here, the two animals would not starve.
But best of all, his smart pony had discovered a stream running so quickly alongside this patch of cottonwood trees, the water was not freezing, even though the snow and ice storm was spitting out its wrath upon the land outside this haven of cottonwoods.
First Rider took careful note of exactly where the stream was, since the shelter he would need to build had to be close to water—but not too close. It was here where he would build his and his woman's wikiup. Here, they would be able to set up a tiny abode and would be out of the range of fury from the storm.
These were smart, clever horses, indeed.
Calling to them, they picked up their ears and looked directly at him. Then, his stallion leading, they came trotting toward him, as though asking, "Where have you been?"
Their reunion was a happy reception. As First Rider petted them, he checked their hair for branches or thorns caught upon them. He found only a few, which he carefully extracted from their manes. Next, he checked over their hooves, and,finding no damage, he began to sing the coyote song to them so as to give them—and him—courage.
At last, he was ready to trudge back to Otahki, following the trail he had carefully carved into the trees. She would be glad to know how well their ponies had fared. Reaching up to the back of each pony, he carefully unloaded the rest of their gear, and, taking it into his arms, he waded back through the snow and the raging storm, finding his way easily by following the clearly marked "V"s on the trees, those he had etched there by his own hand.
When First Rider at last climbed up onto the ledge, it was with a great amount of relief. To be out of the storm was like finding paradise. He was out of breath and sweating from his exertions. He had just deposited his load of their gear, when Otahki ran to him and hugged him, pulling him in closely to her.
She whispered, "I have been so worried about thee. Please do not leave me own self here alone again."
He murmured a reply, saying, "I shall do…as you say. Although for such warm greeting from you…I should not promise."
"Oh, thou should not tease me. Please hold me. I have been pacing this ledge until I know every stone and imprint upon it. Come, I boiled some of the dried meat. Thou will eat."
"I will," he answered, breathing in the savory scent of her. "I have brought our gear. Let us become…ourselves comfortable."
****
Liliann and First Rider stayed on the ledge for the rest of the day, sitting on a buffalo robe they had placed around the fire. Eating their stash of boiled dried meat, they watched the snow fall and swirl in the gigantic blasts of wind. Liliann was no stranger to the blizzards in this land, having now spent four years in Indian country. But, she had never been caught out inone, although she had heard stories from the men and women who had suffered through one. Often the person had been hunting or had been away from the village doing some other chore, unaware of the danger until a blizzard had taken form, seemingly without warning. Indeed, those who had survived these storms told the story of how one moment the weather had been sunshiny and bright, and the next it was dark with a curtain of snow blanketing the world around them.
Liliann shivered, and, glancing at First Rider, said, "I be cold."
First Rider, who was sitting next to her, looked askance at her and answered her declaration with a single raised brow.
"I be not likin' the sound of the wind as it blows around this cliff where we be sittin'. And, I fear if it keeps snowin' and blowin' like this, 'twill soon be over our heads, no lie."
"Come here," he said, opening his blanket to her. "We keep each other warm."
"Aye," she said. "I would be likin' to do as thou bids, except 'twould lead me to remember we might not be married, and if I be in thine arms…I…I—"
"Not married?" Frowning, First Rider shook his head before saying, "We not know if…the one we seek is Tsistsaki, first wife."
"This be true," Liliann answered. "But, thou hast told me thou believes it to be thy first wife, since Heavy Storm seemed so certain of it. And, if it truly be Tsistsaki, then our marriage"—her voice caught—"it will not exist. 'Twill be as though it never happened."
