Twenty-Nine

The sounds of saws and hammers were heard early the next morning. Not long after breakfast the burnt structures were razed and scorched deerskin wigwams pulled down. Women scraped hides.

Beth contritely helped other women carry food—berries, fresh fruit, and sliced melons—to the men who toiled in the hot sun.

As heavy as her heart was, she couldn’t help but smile when she walked through the village and saw Sister Mary Margaret and Sister Prue turning a jump rope for the village children. The two sisters sang a silly song designed to entertain. Later, Beth spotted the two nuns playing a game of hopscotch with the kids. Shaking her head, Beth grinned. Thank You, God, that these kind people don’t hold the fire against me. She thought about her silent prayer. Had God heard? Sister Mary Margaret said He did. She wondered what He thought of her awkward thanks. Did He welcome them? Or did He wonder what had kept her from talking to Him for so long?

By evening the villagers and their guests were bone tired. Gray Eagle sat near the fire, chatting with the chief. Beth watched the exchange, aware that Joanie’s eyes never left the handsome scout.

After working hard all morning, late in the afternoon he’d taken her away again, and she returned an hour later, her eyes sparkling like rare gems and her clothes quite wet. She refused to answer Beth’s questions as she changed into her dress and hung her pants and shirt up to dry. Emotions clashed within Beth. On the one hand, she was grateful that her sister had the muscular young man’s attention. On the other, she was worried sick that Joanie would fall in love, only to be devastated by him. He would go to his own village soon, leaving her more alone than she had been before. Beth wished she could divert her sister’s attention away from their growing attraction, but until they reached the next community, there was little she could actually do but keep a close eye on the couple. She went over to the group around the fire and found a seat next to Pierce. His hat was over his eyes, and he appeared to be snoozing.

“Gray Eagle!” A child’s excited voice broke the peaceful silence.

“Yes, Little Bear?”

The child spoke in his native language. Beth guessed that he had asked the scout to tell a story.

Chuckling, Gray Eagle glanced at the chief, who nodded. “It would please the children.”

Little ones appeared from the shadows, their young faces and black eyes bright with anticipation.

Beth leaned toward Pierce and said softly, “Hey. Wake up.”

His drowsy bass answered. “Why?”

“Something’s happening.”

Lifting the brim of his cap, he focused on the sight. “The kids want Gray Eagle to tell them a story.”

Beth drew her skirts close and hugged her knees. “And will he?”

“He will. He tells these legends every chance he gets.” He tipped the brim back into place.

When she glanced up again she was surprised to see that half the village had gathered around the fire to hear Gray Eagle speak.

The scout said, “What story shall I tell?”

“The owl!” a little boy said.

“Ah. ‘Why the Great Spirit Gave the Owl Big Eyes.’ Is that the one you want to hear?”

“Yes!” the children said in chorus.

Standing in front of the fire, with great relish he began to entertain his audience with the old Cherokee legend.

“The Great Spirit, the Everything-Maker, was busy one day creating animals. He was working on Rabbit, and Rabbit said: ‘I want very long legs and long ears like a deer, and sharp fangs and claws like a panther.’

“The Great Spirit said quietly, ‘I will make your body the way you want it to be. I will give you what you ask for.’ He was working on Rabbit’s hind legs, making them long, just the way Rabbit wanted.

“Owl was sitting in a tree nearby and patiently waiting his turn. Seeing that Rabbit got his wish, he said, ‘Whoo, whoo, I want a long neck like Swan’s, and some red feathers like Cardinal’s, and…yes, I think I want a long beak like Egret’s, and a huge crown of plumes like Heron’s.’ He blinked his eyes. ‘Make me into the most beautiful, the fastest, and the most amazing of all the birds!’

“The Great Spirit did not like distraction when He worked. He said to Owl, ‘Be quiet. Turn around and look in another direction. Don’t you know that no one is allowed to watch Me work?’ The Great Spirit was then making Rabbit’s ears very long, just the way Rabbit wanted them.

“Owl refused to be quiet. ‘Whoo, whoo! Nobody can forbid me to watch. I like watching You, and watch I will.’

“The Great Spirit shook His head and went back to work on Rabbit, but Owl kept up his chatter. ‘Whoo, whoo! I want to be different!’

“The Great Spirit turned, lifting Owl down from his branch. He stuffed Owl’s head deep into his body, shaking him until his eyes bulged with fright and pulling at his ears until they were sticking up at both sides of his head.

“‘There,’ the Great Spirit said. ‘You are different. You won’t be able to crane your neck to watch things you shouldn’t watch, and you’ll have big ears to listen when someone speaks. I have given you large eyes—but not so big that you can watch Me. You will be awake only at night so you can’t watch Me work during the day. And your feathers won’t be red like Cardinal’s, but gray like this,’ and the Great Spirit rubbed Owl with mud all over, ‘because of your disobedience.’

“Owl flew off, sulking. ‘Whoo, whoo, whoo.’

“Returning to His work, the Great Spirit was about to finish Rabbit, but Rabbit had been so upset by the Great Spirit’s anger that he ran off half done. He wasn’t finished. Rabbit’s hind legs were long, so he had to hop instead of run. Because he took fright then, Rabbit has remained afraid of almost everything. He never got his claws or the fangs he asked for so he could defend himself. If he had been wise, he would not have run away. Rabbit would have looked much different today.

“As for Mr. Owl, he’s stayed as the Great Spirit had shaped him in anger—with big eyes, a short neck, and ears sticking out of the sides of his head. And he has to sleep during the day and come out only at night.”

The children leaped with glee, shoving to get closer to Gray Eagle as he finished the tale. Three young girls ran to the captain, disturbing his nap. Playfully, he tickled their ribs and tugged their ears. High-pitched squeals filled the soft night air.

Beside her, Beth heard Joanie’s longing sigh. “He’s wonderful.”

“This Great Spirit?” Beth said. “Is this supposed to be God?”

“It is a form of their god. We don’t share the same belief, but Gray Eagle believes in God.” She turned to smile at her sister. “I think he thinks of Him when he tells his stories. God is very large, Beth. He has made this vast world and all of its people.”

Focused on Gray Eagle, Beth murmured, “This faith thing gets more confusing by the moment.”