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She gazed up into his eyes. “How can I ever thank you enough for all that you have done for me, and…also your grandfather Shaman?” she said, smiling. “Had I not trusted you…”
“But you did, and you trusted my grandfather,” Wolf Hawk said softly, smiling himself. “I know that at first you were wary of my grandfather’s medicine, but it is good you trusted enough to allow him to care for you in the only way that he knows. I realize it is like nothing you’ve experienced before.”
“No doctor that I ever knew could do what Talking Bird did for me,” Mia murmured. “I would still be very ill had I gone to a white man’s physician. I might have even lost one or both legs. But now? Look at them! I don’t even believe I will be left with scars such as I have had in the past when I clumsily came into contact with poison ivy.”
“My people’s Great Spirit, which we call Earthmaker, looked down at you from his home in the sky. With his own wisdom he helped my grandfather heal you,” Wolf Hawk said. He sat down beside her. “I noticed that you brought what is called a Bible with you when I asked you to choose some belongings to pack. I have heard that white people pray over that sort of talking leaves. Do you?”
“Talking leaves?” Mia murmured, lifting an eyebrow in curiosity. “What do you mean?”
“My people call all of your people’s books ‘talking leaves,’” Wolf Hawk said. “It is because they talk to you and teach you.”
“That is an interesting way to describe books,” Mia murmured. She smiled. “And, yes, to answer your question…I do pray as I read my Bible, and even when it is not with me. I prayed last night as I lay on my pallet of furs, with the moon looking down on me from the smoke hole. You see, when I pray, I am also communicating with my mama and papa, who are now in heaven.”
She searched his eyes. “Do you and your people have something similar to a Bible that you use when you pray?” she asked softly.
“No, there is no written word for us to read as we worship and say our prayers,” Wolf Hawk said, pleased that she would want to know about his people’s beliefs. Surely that meant she cared for him.
“Then how do you pray, and when?” Mia asked.
She truly wanted to know. She wanted to learn everything about him, hoping that he, in turn, wished to know all about her. She wished he would openly confess his feelings about her.
She knew by his actions and behavior that he cared for her, but just how deeply? Would he ever let her know?
Or was it forbidden by his people’s laws that a powerful Winnebago chief have feelings for a white woman?
And for herself, did she love this man enough to marry him?
Until she knew the answers to these questions, she knew that she must guard her words.
“There is so much to tell you about our beliefs, but I will explain a little each day,” Wolf Hawk said.
“Please do,” Mia murmured. “I am truly interested.”
“The chief god we believe in is Earthmaker,” he began. “He is sometimes known to my people as Waxopini-zederea, the Great Spirit. We pray to the Earthmaker, and from him we receive many blessings.”
He paused, truly in awe of how interested she was in what he was saying. She gazed intensely at him while he spoke.
That was good, for he wanted to eventually teach her everything Winnebago.
“The women of the village also pray to the moon—” he began. He stopped abruptly when he saw Mia glance at the opened entrance flap, and heard her gasp.
“What is it?” he asked. He followed her gaze and saw nothing.
“Georgina,” Mia softly cried.
Her pulse raced as she listened intently to the sounds outside the tepee.
She looked quickly at Wolf Hawk and reached out to grab his arm. “Do you hear it, too?” she cried. “Or is it my imagination?”
“Do I hear what?” Wolf Hawk asked, his eyes widening as the beautiful song of a bird unfamiliar to him came wafting into the lodge.
“Oh, my Lord, Wolf Hawk, it is,” Mia said. She struggled to get to her feet, but fell back down on the pelts from weakness. “It…it…is my canary! It’s Georgina! How could it be? How can she have survived the days and nights since Tiny loosed her from her cage?”
She clutched Wolf Hawk’s arm more tightly. “Please help me find her,” Mia cried. “I can’t let her fly away or I may never again get the chance to save her. Surely she can’t survive much longer. She has never had to forage for her own food. And how has she eluded the night animals and the larger birds so long?”
Seeing her desperation, he gathered her up into his arms. As she clung to his neck with an arm, he quickly carried her outside.
Mia’s heart skipped several beats, for now that she was outside, she no longer heard Georgina’s song. Her bird had stopped singing.
