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Presently she found herself in a wide, shallow valley that was thickly timbered, where cottonwoods and rocks and silent streams jo?
?ined together to create a tranquil setting.
In the distance, Jolena could see great numbers of deer, elk, and mountain sheep on the hillsides.
Then a jackrabbit bounced past her, so close she could have reached out and touched it.
Jolena paused, sighing. She wiped beads of perspiration from her brow as she leaned against the trunk of a cottonwood. She closed her eyes and listened to the whisper of the leaves above her. If she did not know better, she would think she was listening to the sound of a peaceful, slow rain falling softly from the sky.
She envisioned herself back in Saint Louis and recalled how she had listened to the sounds of the one giant cottonwood tree that stood just outside her bedroom window. On days when she was caught up in wondering about her heritage, and where her true father might be, she had listened to the cottonwood tree, allowing it to soothe her in her moments of loneliness for a life that she had been denied.
Her stomach rumbled, and the gnawing ache at the pit of it drew Jolena's eyes back open. She knew that she must travel onward, if not to find civilization of some sort, at least to find food. She had been able to quench her thirst in the clear, sparkling streams, and an occa- sional blackberry bush had offered her some respite from her hunger as she had gobbled up handsful of the berries.
But now, even that meal was far behind her and she knew that she must eat soon or collapse from weakness.
She could feel it already beginningthe trembling in her knees and the slight dizziness.
"I must move onward," she whispered, pushing her way through knee-high prairie grass. "I must. I must."
The sun seemed to be branding her as it beamed its heated rays down upon her. She wished the day away, hungering for the cooler breezes of evening, yet fearing the unknown again in the deep, purple shadows of night.
Jolena stopped to take a quavering breath, and to use the hem of her skirt to sponge the perspiration from her face. As she dropped the skirt down again, something grabbed her attention. Her heart seemed to skip several beats when again she heard something wafting through the air.
"Is that children's laughter?" she whispered, then stiffened when she heard the faint barking of dogs and neighing of horses.
Then she crinkled her nose as she picked up the wonderful aroma of meat roasting over an open fire.
All of these things could only mean one thing.
She was nearing either a settler's cabinor an Indian village! The thought of finally finding someoneanyoneout here in the middle of nowhere gave Jolena the incentive she needed to go that one more mile, if needed, to finally be safe from the dangers of being alone, and to eat. Each step she took now was a true effort, as though it just might be her last.
Suddenly she saw them!
Her eyes grew wide and her heartbeat went wild with the discovery.
Through the cottonwoods she could see dark, smoke-blackened tepees, their peaks releasing drifting, lazy smoke up into the breeze. Every open place in the valley was covered with tepees!
The hills close by the village were dotted with horses grazing in a large, wide corral.
She shifted her gaze and watched children scampering about barefoot and in brief breechclouts, chasing one another in what seemed mock battles, with limbs for lances and rifles.
Dogs followed on their heels, yapping.
Jolena stepped behind a tree, suddenly fearful of approaching an Indian village alone. She watched with a shallow breath as women came into view, stooping, tying and hauling their gathered wood that would feed their fires tonight.
Jolena looked past these women at the blue smoke of the cooking fires rising into the still air in little columns from the tepees, soon disappearing into nothingness.
Her eyes widened, and her stomach growled again at the sight of meat cooking on a spit over a large, outdoor fire in the center of the village.
She knew that she had no choice but to go on into the village. She eased from behind the tree, ready to approach the women, but found them gone, and also the children and dogs that had been with them.
Sighing heavily, Jolena moved on toward the village, casting all fears aside, not allowing herself to think they might be enemies, instead of the friendly Blackfoot. If they were the Cree, Sioux, Crow, or Snake she did not know how she would be received. She did know that Spotted Eagle had been accompanying the expedition of lepidopterists in part because of the danger of a Cree attack. He had most definitely seen the Cree as his enemy and the enemy of white people.
Bringing Spotted Eagle to the surface of her memory again made a sad longing wash through her. She wiped tears from her eyes and trudged onward, soon reaching the outer edge of the village.
Limping slightly, Jolena moved toward the closest dwelling, a colorful tepee made from buffalo hides with strange medicine animals painted on it, knowing that it should not matter which one she approached for assistance.
As she circled around the tepee from behind, she stopped when she discovered an older man sitting in front of the tepee on a blanket, polishing his arrow shafts by passing them through holes drilled in a thin, flat rock. She had been so quiet in her approach that he had not yet discovered her there, which gave her time to study him and to guess whether or not he might be friendly enough to approach.
