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"Why?" He glanced at her. "Well, I guess because they love them. And only them."
"But there is much work to be done. With only one wife, she must be very tired." She objected.
"I guess you could look at it that way. But I would think the man would help her. And she would be treasured by her husband. At least that's the way it's supposed to be. You cleave to your husband."
"Oh, it is not so in an Indian Camp. The women do all the work. The men hunt and defend." She explained. "They make arrows, clean guns if they have them. But the women do most of the work, in the camp. The man is a warrior and a hunter. He provides for the family."
He couldn't help his frown. "Do you love your husband, Snow Bird?"
She looked strangely at him.
"What a strange question for a white man to ask." She paused again, as though mulling over the question. "I respect him; I care for him because he is a great warrior. Love has not much to do with it." She answered casting him a compelling glance. "I suppose I do not know."
"You sure have a funny way of looking at things." He studied her a minute. "I wish you'd quit referring to me as a white man. I got a name. It's Matt Younger. I call you Snow Bird, you call me Matt, not white man."
She glanced at him and folded her lips. "I have made you angry?"
"N-no, it's just I don't look at you like you’re an Indian, you are Snow Bird, I accept that. How would it be if you called me white man and I called you red woman?"
She smiled. "I will do as you say and call you Matt then, I did not mean to make you angry."
"I'm not angry. What is your husband's name?"
"Too Tall."
"Is he a hunter?"
"Yes, a very good one."
"It's not that I'm angry, I'm frustrated at your attitude, that's all." He spouted with a definite lack of indulgence.
"I'm sorry," she looked right at him now.
"If you don't love him, why do you stay with him?"
Tired of his constant questions, she shrugged. "He has taken me in, provided for me, made a home for me. He is my husband."
"But you don't love him."
"The white man puts more stock in loving. He did not marry me to love me. Because I am young, I would provide him with many children. At least that was what he thought. Now, wh
en he sees me, he may shame me on sight. He will not be pleased that I have been taken."
"Do you want to go back?"
"I would like to see my sister again and see what he says."
"Even if he rejects you and the baby?"
"Yes, it is something I must face."
"And your husband, how is he, gentle or rough?"
She blushed and almost laughed, "I do not know he has never taken me."
Now he was staring at her. "What do you mean, never taken you. You’re his wife, aren't you?"
"Yes, but he has two other wives. I would bear him a child when he was ready, but he cares more for my sister, and we were not long married. He also cares for Naomi too, as they have two children." She insisted. "Now that I am gone, and Naomi maybe as well, he and my sister have a chance at being happy together. As the white man does with one woman. If Naomi is gone, then they will raise the children together. And they will be very happy."
