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Chapter 36
If ever wife was happy in a man,
Compare with me, ye women, if you can.
—ANNE BRADSTREET
On their wedding day, Elizabeth sat in the council house on a high platform piled comfortably with soft furs, overlooking their guests: Suquamish from this village and from the reservation. She watched wide-eyed as Strong Heart participated in what was known as a potlatch. She would have felt awkward except that she was not alone on the platform. Her parents sat on one side of her and Strong Heart’s parents on the other side.
Even sweet Frannie had overcome her fear of Indians and had been persuaded to attend. She sat quietly beside Elizabeth’s mother, casting Elizabeth occasional weak smiles.
A number of men were dancing to the sound of drums while the crowd looked on and sang. The dancers wore headbands decorated with the brilliant feathers of woodpeckers, and they carried the skins of albino deer.
As Elizabeth watched, Strong Heart handed out gifts to guests who sat around the fire in the firepit. Her hands stroked her cloak of softly woven wool, trimmed with sea otter fur.
Both of them were dressed in especially festive clothing. She wore a dress of palest doeskin, which had been lavishly decorated with elk’s teeth, bright feathers and fancy quill work, while Strong Heart looked handsome in his cloak of sea otter fur. To mark the occasion, he was also wearing ceremonial head rings and a special collar of cedar bark.
As they had dressed for today, she had watched him pull on leggings and a breechcloth painted with various colors in bright designs beneath his cloak.
She had then seen him as he added the sparkling flakes of mica to his face, which even now glittered under the fire’s glow.
She knew that she had to grow used to these new customs, yet this potlatch did not seem appropriate for the occasion. In her culture, presents were given to the bride and groom—not to those who attended.
But Strong Heart had explained to her that sharing one’s wealth was an honor. The more a person gave to others, the more important he was in their society. The potlatch, meaning “gift giving,” was a way of celebrating important events—today a marriage of a most important man to the woman of his choice.
Strong Heart had warned her not to be alarmed by the amount of gifts that he would give away at the potlatch. He told her that in the coming years, there would be more such celebrations, to impress upon others the wealth that proved his worthiness of the title of chief. They were necessary, these times of spreading his wealth among those who were less fortunate than he or Elizabeth.
Elizabeth had not told him of her uneasiness about this, because she had no right to. She had chosen to live the life of the Suquamish. So she would have to accept all the ways of the Suquamish. And she would. In time, she would know as much as the other women.
Forcing herself not to think about how strange this gift giving was, Elizabeth watched and nodded her approval at Strong Heart each time he held up an object for her to see before he gave it away. Once this exhibition of wealth was over, they would finally join hands in marriage.
She still could not believe that all of the obstacles had been removed and that their lives were going to become normal, with the insanity of the past behind them.
And it had been the same for Four Winds and Maysie. A runner from his village had come to Strong Heart with the news that Four Winds had been accepted into his community, and that he and Maysie had shared their vows as
man and wife already.
Elizabeth and Strong Heart had delayed their wedding day, giving Elizabeth’s parents time to get there to be witnesses to their joyful marriage.
Still she sat patiently as she waited for Strong Heart to bring his gift giving to a close.
But he kept moving around the crowd, his generosity great today. Elizabeth could not help but covet the trade blanket that he was handing to one woman. It was beautiful—dark blue with a red border, embellished with heraldic beasts outlined in pearl buttons.
She also silently admired the baskets, beautifully carved boxes, and decorated hides that he gave away.
And then, surprising Elizabeth, Strong Heart stopped before her parents. “Come with me,” he said, gesturing toward her father specifically. “Your gift awaits you at the river.”
Earl’s mouth opened in wonder. Then he left the platform as Strong Heart continued waving for him to follow.
The drumming, singing, and dancing ceased. Elizabeth and everyone else followed Strong Heart and her father outside, where the western mountains were flushed a red gold, and down to the river.
Strong Heart went to the sandy beach and walked toward a lone, intricately carved canoe. He went to it and laid a hand on the prow, turning and smiling at Earl. “This is my gift to you,” he said. “This will make it easier for you and your wife to come and see your daughter from time to time. The rivers are more gentle than a horse to a woman’s behind.”
Strong Heart glanced over at Elizabeth, his eyes dancing. He hoped that she was remembering their many adventures on horseback. He had silently marveled at her tenacity to keep up with him. He had also seen her grimace while rubbing her sore behind. How her muscles must have ached when they had not been able to stop and rest as often as she would have wished.
Ah-hah, a canoe would be better for her mother, whose age matched Strong Heart’s own mother’s. His mother would rather do anything than climb on a horse.
Elizabeth was touched by Strong Heart‘s thoughtfulness. She went to him and linked an arm through his, as she watched her father look over the canoe, obviously moved by it.
