The deserted township—Starvation—An untruth—Arrival at the Indian village—Her mistress—A fellow captive
A northerly struck, driving the temperatures down so low that water froze in a cup and even those with the benefit of heavy buffalo robes shivered. Custom was for each teepee’s family to extend shelter to all members, but when Anne sought accommodation for the child and herself, she was roughly thrown out. She begged shelter from others, who sometimes offered it. Hearing of her actions, her chief forbade her to go asking for aid and thus shaming him. As punishment he denied her food although Anne guessed nothing other than the usual broth had been intended them.
Elizabeth and she lay down on the open ground, huddling by a small fire that she had kindled from brush and a stolen coal. Anne’s limbs grew heavy and somnolent, and many a night she fully believed she would not survive till morning. Her only regret was no longer being there to protect Elizabeth, who was too fragile to survive without a guardian. One evening in particular Anne tried to prepare her thoughts to depart the earth and make peace with her Lord as her mother would approve, but found herself distracted by the night sky, which had at last cleared, revealing thousands of sharp silver daggers of light above, as well as the fairy-tale blanket of white that lay on the trees, bushes, and land around them. Nature, when not observed at a remove but up close, enchanted beyond anything she had previously imagined.
In the middle of the night a family of deer appeared at the edge of the tree line. She held her breath as they stood still a moment basking in the starlight, eyes that reflected the liquid night, pelts silvered, hooves like polished riverstone. Their ears twitched back and forth listening. She swore that they looked straight at her and yet were unafraid. Finally they moved off through the trees. She worried for their safety even though she herself wasted from starvation.
She drifted off to what she assumed was a final rest only to be prodded awake in the glare of daylight. She covered her eyes with hands reddened and split from the cold. The two of them were so pitiable now that the Indians had no choice but to mount them on a pony that they then led. Elizabeth began an incessant crying over the pain in her stomach, which Anne recognized was simply hunger. The sound irritated their captors, and they threatened to knock the girl on the head if she did not quiet. Anne was hard-pressed to calm her.
“I want my mama,” Elizabeth whimpered.
“That’s where we are going,” Anne answered without hesitation. “But you must promise to be very, very quiet.”
She, who had been such a careful tender of the truth, now spouted lies when convenient as easily as if she had been doing such her whole life. What would happen when they reached their destination and no mother appeared? Wasn’t it a sin to engender hope that had no possibility of fruition? But Anne could not think beyond the successful navigation of the next few steps ahead of them. She needed the girl to survive. That would be her victory. Survival was the beginning, without which the child would soon enough be joining her mother in eternity.
Worn from another day’s march, they entered a small township Anne recognized from past visits with her family. It had been a special treat to stop there on the way to or from their home while stocking provisions or visiting relatives. The main attraction had been a passable luncheon café and sundry dry goods store where the children were allowed to pick out bits of sweets such as maple sugar candy or Necco wafers.
The place was now deserted, the people having fled, most of the buildings burned down. Anne remembered her parents talking of whole towns disappearing due to Indian attacks. Nonetheless the sight of the few remaining wooden structures was a comfort, evidence of a civilization that was fast becoming strange to her. Granted, that relief was small given the town’s abandonment. There would be no one to rescue them.
Down the main street, they passed the half-decayed, flyblown carcass of a horse still tethered to the welcome post of the local flophouse. In one house, Anne could see a smashed bedstead and the green, heavy silk of a dress that still clothed its owner. Idly Anne recalled her coveting a friend’s pretty dress and wondered at her former callowness. How much she took for granted. An amazing array of artifacts lay scattered along the ground—a cracked looking glass, boots, pots, pans, apothecary items—things totally superfluous to her current existence. A lady’s whalebone corset. The funeral card of a young man in uniform. Anne picked up a sterling fork that an Indian quickly snatched away from her. She found a dog collar and a few books much abused by the weather. It was disturbing to contemplate the likely fates of the owners of these worldly belongings.
The Indians, tired of the wailing of the women, allowed the captives to take abode in a half-standing warehouse for the night. Although the floor was dirt and the sky visible, having walls seemed a rich luxury to them.
Anne could not sleep, and as she lay there she heard the scurrying of mice. Curious, she waited till all was quiet outside then she crawled on her hands and knees to find what she suspected—stray grains of wheat and corn that had been stored in the building. She gathered the pitiful kernels into her pockets, little guessing that these would provide the bulk of her sustenance in the days ahead.
They traveled over a week through rough terrain without anything more than a few cups of weak broth and melted snow for nourishment. The cold was so bitter that even when they had a fire to sleep against, Anne felt that warmth was something foreign to her body. It could no longer penetrate to her frozen core. She did not credit her survival each day to anything less than a miracle.
When at last they reached what she guessed was the main encampment in Indian Territory, the arrival occasioned a frenzied atmosphere. They remained in the winter camp for more than a week, but even such rest did not recuperate Anne from her fallen condition.
Within hours they were traded to another chief for the price of a hunting blade. Captives were valuable as labor. Her new master’s woman put her to work day and night. Her first duty was to stay out all night guarding his pony herd, a job usually reserved for men, as horses were a tribe’s main wealth. It was grueling labor in the freezing cold. One night, bone tired, she lay down for a quick nap and did not rise till morning when a warrior had to lift her to standing and then slap her face for circulation. Such an easy solution, to simply freeze to death.
Grudgingly, a sour, greasy buffalo hide was given her to wear over her cotton dress. With its warmth the task became the smallest bit more tolerable. A gift of clean undergarments would have brought her to tears.
Allowed only a few hours’ sleep in the morning, her daytime duty then began, of stripping bark from the saplings to provide fodder for the animals. She was told that if she tried to escape not only would she be killed but also Elizabeth. If a single horse went missing, she would be killed. If the animals were not fed properly, she would be killed. Anne held firm to the belief that it was only a matter of time before they found an excuse to kill her regardless of her actions. Observing their hardship, Anne understood she was the unwelcome enemy.
* * *
WHENEVER SHE HAD a rare free moment, her main task became begging for food. Hunger was a constant that crowded out all other thoughts. She had observed that the members of the tribe were generous with one another but acted miserly toward captives. If her teepee was preparing a large pot of stew over the fire, the family only rarely allowed her to dip her cup in and take the smallest amount away.
Even when she was lucky, she knew better than to look too closely at the contents of her bowl, or she would lose her appetite. Soldiers had conducted winter campaigns, and the camp had had to flee to save their lives, leaving behind their winter stores of food. Mice and squirrels went in whole. Parts of dogs, deer, and horses. Birds and snakes and grubs. With starvation pressing close, everything was fair game, everything palatable.
Although she endeavored to make their provisions last longer to stave off hunger, Elizabeth and she were forced to eat everything they received immediately or risk it being stolen. It led to a cycle of starvation, satiation, starvation that broke their strength. When Anne was successful enough to hide away a handful of nuts or pemmican, the chief’s wife would often find her hoard, and then she would be beaten for begging rather than be given enough provender to survive.
In light of these restrictions and cruelties, Anne was surprised at the freedom of movement she was allowed. The Indians knew she was too frail to run far. She had lost all compass of where they were but assumed it was far from Kansas.
Wilderness lay impenetrable in every direction, civilization a forgotten dream. Could the great cities of the world still exist simultaneously with this primitive world?
During her explorations of the larger camp, she discovered another white woman, who had been taken a month before from Texas and found herself traded to her current location. Anne hugged her, overwhelmed at the companionship, but the woman shrugged off her touch. She was big with child and could talk of nothing but escape.
“But in what direction would you go?” Anne asked, as she had already studied the matter and determined any attempt futile.
The woman bowed her head and began crying. “The Lord shall guide me. Come with me.”
Anne pitied the woman for her expectant condition, her thinness, the weathered roughness of her face, which clearly once held beauty.
“You will never survive an escape,” Anne whispered.
The woman reached out her hand and placed it atop Anne’s. She said nothing, an expression of great disappointment in her eyes. She got up with difficulty and moved off. It felt like a judgment, but Anne dismissed it. She had grown shrewd in survival and calculated the woman had no chance of success.
The escape attempt was the news of the camp. The woman had been caught within one short hour’s time and killed. The method used was slow torture as a cautionary lesson to others against attempting the same.
There were no words to describe Anne’s desolation. Her desire to escape redoubled.