Chapter Twelve

“To be a scout,” he instructed, “you must become accustomed to the wilderness. You must begin to think of it as your home, and you must feel as comfortable here as you would in your England.”

She nodded.

It was early morning. The sun was up in the eastern sky, but barely, its pinks and reds diffused across the barren landscape, welcoming in the new day with color. Both Marietta and Grey Coyote were seated in the gully, on the ground. There was no fire between them, but a breakfast of dried meat had appeased their hunger.

Her first lesson had begun, and she was instructed to learn it well, for she and Grey Coyote would begin their travels that evening.

“Mother Earth will provide everything for you,” Grey Coyote was saying. “All of your needs, be they food, medicines or weapons. But you must open your heart and your mind. You must become one with all existence.”

“Become one with existence?”

He nodded. “There is a oneness with nature. A feeling of belonging, of being part of it. It is true power. We are, all of us, connected. Every living creature is part and parcel of every other living creature. When you can feel that aliveness, that oneness with all life, you have then truly become a scout.”

“But I don’t understand.”

“Close your eyes and tell me, what do you see a mile away from here?”

She chortled. “I can’t see a mile away from here.”

“Yes, you can,” he encouraged. “Keep your eyes closed and feel the life that is around you.”

She tried to do as he said.

“Can you sense that boulder?”

Heaven forbid, she did perceive something. She asked, albeit a little shyly, “Is it to my left?”

“It is. I am proud of you. You can do this.”

“But that was quite close to me.”

“It does not matter,” he responded. “How far away something is is not important. It is not the distance that matters, it is one’s feeling of belonging to all life. Now, tell me, what do you discern in the far distance from here?”

She tried to look. She tried very hard, but at last she shook her head. “Nothing. I can’t do this.”

“You can. But it is perhaps too soon. You must practice. You must sit here. You must close your eyes and feel the life around you, for there is much activity here. You must permit yourself to become part of it, to be it. We are all of us connected. You need only to sense that connection, and the rest is easy, for all your needs are provided by our Mother, the earth.”

“But—”

“This is why it is important to take care of the earth.” He expanded on the thought. “All life needs her, as she needs us. We are all joined by the life that flows through every living creature. This is why you must remember that to destroy something beautiful in the earth is to destroy something beautiful in yourself.”

She sat for a moment in thought. “I understand. You reap what you sow.”

He nodded. “The life force which one uses to destroy another is one’s own life force. It comes from none other than oneself. That energy exists as surely as the air you breathe, and it will come back to you, for you are the one who emanated it. And so it is that what one receives is good, or is bad, according to what one puts out into the world.”

She gazed up at him. Her throat constricted, as though she were experiencing deep emotion. In some way, somehow, what Grey Coyote was saying…touched her.

“How have you managed to become aware of all this?”

“My grandfathers. And they learned from their grandfathers before them. But come, there is more you should know.” Holding out his hand, he pulled her to her feet. “The first duty one must keep in mind when he is scouting is that one must avoid all man-made and animal trails. In truth, a scout avoids all trails. And a scout never uses the same path twice.”

Marietta tried earnestly to understand. After all, she had promised him to learn all she could as quickly as possible. However, she had a few questions. “But if you avoid all trails, how do you know where you’re going?”

“There are other landmarks one can use to tell one’s way. The sun is used during the day, the seven brothers at night, for they will point you to the Star that Stands Still, the North Star.”

“Seven brothers?”

“The white man calls these stars the Big Dipper. But the Indians call it the seven brothers.”

“Really? Why seven brothers?”

“It is from an old Cheyenne legend. In the legend, seven brothers escaped into the sky to avoid death. It is an excellent legend, and perhaps it is because of this that many of the surrounding tribes have come to adopt the name for this group of stars.”

“I see.” She nodded. “Will you tell it to me?”

“Hau, but perhaps at a later time. For now, I will give you lessons on how never to get lost.”

“Really?”

He simply smiled at her. “Hau, hau. It is easy to find the seven brothers in the sky, for they are always in view unless it is cloudy. And from the brothers, one can gain direction and can ascertain how early or late it is in the evening, for the brothers rotate around the Star that Stands Still.”

“Yes, yes. I do know that.”

“Good. Now to find your way, you have only to take the two stars at the very end of the cup and make a straight line upward from them. The first star you will come to is the Star that Stands Still.”

“I didn’t know that.”

He inclined his head. “Then it is good we have discussed this, for you should never be lost again. Tonight, when we are on the trail, I will have you trace this path in the sky so you can see how easily it is done.”

“I would like that,” she answered with a smile.

“Remember once you can determine north—for the Star that Stands Still points north always—you have only to set your course accordingly until at last you come across landmarks which you know.”

“Ah, I see how it’s done. Well, I must say, this is an enlightening lesson to have learned.” She wrinkled her brow. “But what if it’s a cloudy night and you can’t see the stars? Do you simply not travel?”

“There is always a means to find your way. When it is cloudy, one notes the course of the wind, which, depending on the season, comes from a particular direction. One can set one’s path by this.”

“The wind?”

“Hau,” he said. “The wind. Now, when we leave here tonight, I will tell you the direction we must go, and you will lead me.”

“I? But—”

“It is the only way to learn.” He peered at her as though he were trying to read her mind. “But there is much time before evening, and there is yet one more skill you must know, a very important skill.”

“Oh? And what is that?”

“How to travel as a scout. Because a scout must remain invisible to be effective. A scout must set his mind to traveling through the most difficult regions of the plains.”

“What do you mean by difficult regions?”

“The swamps, the bushes, the places no one would think to travel. On the prairie, only men in great numbers can afford to keep to the easier paths. A scout goes where no one else wants to go, where no one else would think to go. Thus he remains invisible. So that you might understand this further, it is a subject of shame for a scout to be seen when he is on a mission for his people. A scout is powerful, and his skills are only valuable to others and to his tribe when he remains undetected.”

“I think I begin to understand.” She bobbed her head slightly. “But how can one become invisible? It isn’t as though a person is invisible. And a scout must walk, or crawl. He must exert some motion. Can’t that be seen?”

“This is a good question,” Grey Coyote validated. “Yet a scout must for all practical purposes be invisible, and there are several ways for him to do so. One is to blend into the environment—to take on its color and aspects so well it would be hard for another to distinguish the scout from the land. Another is to camouflage oneself as an animal, perhaps one that is often seen on the prairie.”

“Ah. Like a buffalo? You make yourself up to look like a buffalo.”

He shook his head. “It is the wolf. Wolves are a common animal on the plains. Few warriors, even when they see them, pay attention to the wolf, or kill them, either, for there is a saying that a bow which shoots a wolf will never shoot straight again.”

“Hmmm…” She furrowed her brow. “So are you saying that in order to make ourselves invisible, we’ll become like wolves?”

“Hiya, no. We cannot because I have no means to make us appear as wolves. A wolf skin is often kept for this purpose, but I have none with me. Nor do I wish to kill a wolf in order to obtain its skin. Instead, we will disguise ourselves in another way.”

“Oh? What way is that?”

He pointed off to the small stream that gurgled merrily through the gully.

“We’re going to wade in water?”

He smiled gently, shaking his head. “Come. I will show you.”

Taking her hand in his own, he led her to the water.

They squatted next to the stream, and Grey Coyote, picking up her hand, directed it to the different textures of the soil, asking her to identify each one. “What do you feel here?”

“Mostly sand,” she replied.

“That is true. There is much sand, and sandstone. You see it in the cliffs. But is there anything else?”

“Hmmm… Well, there’s dirt and clay.”

“Hau, there is dirt and clay. And do you see this clay is the same color as the soil, and that it is also the same shade as the dry, golden grass?”

“Hmmm…” she murmured, hesitating. “Yes, I guess I can.”

“This is good. We will paint our bodies with this clay.” He eyed her with a fair degree of wariness, as though he expected her to suddenly burst into flames. “I cannot emphasize enough that a scout must remain as invisible to his environment as possible. Now the first thing you must do to make yourself invisible is to strip down to only the barest necessities of clothing.”

At first Marietta laughed, certain he was taunting her. But when he remained solemn, she said, “Surely you jest.”

“I do not,” he assured her quietly. “You must strip away most of your clothes. I will do so also, although I do not wear as many as you.”

“But—”

He held up his hand. “Consider this. When scouting, one will be trudging through swamps and valleys, bushes and brambles. Clothing can snag, can tear, and if your clothes are also excessive, they will burden you. If you continue to wear a dress as big as this one”—he touched its cloth—“it will hinder you. It might also catch on branches or pricks, and will leave a trace of you behind that even a neglectful warrior may see and follow.”

“Oh. Of course. I begin to understand.” She looked away from him awkwardly. “But there is one thing you have failed to consider…”

He raised an eyebrow.

“And that is that everything I am wearing is a necessity.”

His look at her was amused. “Perhaps these things are so in the white man’s world, but they are not here on the prairie, and particularly not if you wish to look as though you are a part of the environment. Come, it will be a great pleasure to help you remove your clothes one by one—and we will discover what your basic necessities are. That is unless you wish to go naked.” His grin at her was full of humor. “It is not something to which I would object.”

She wagged her finger at him, smiling, and she started to respond in kind, but suddenly Grey Coyote froze mid-action, brought up his gaze to scan his environment, and before she could say a word, he placed a finger over her lips. Motioning her to silence, he came down on all fours, put his ear to the ground and lay there for a good few minutes. She followed him down, resting on her knees.

Before long he sat up, looked at her, and said under his breath, “A war party approaches.”

Instantly, her eyes went wide and her stomach dropped.

She didn’t doubt him. Why would she? If the man were attempting to teach her how to perceive things at a distance, it would surely follow that he must, himself, have such an ability.

She asked quietly, “How far away are they?”

He didn’t answer.

Marietta quickly scrutinized their gully, looking for a possible escape. What had once seemed a haven, now appeared a prison. This land was dry, barren. The cliffs were of sandstone, with little to no vegetation. There wasn’t even a good cave in them. Literally, there was nowhere to hide.

True, there were bushes and scrub brush along the stream, but most of these were small, and those that were of a larger variety were full of thorns. Worse, it was the early part of the day. There wasn’t even a shred of darkness to conceal them.

She glanced toward Grey Coyote, but though he seemed alert, he did not appear to be frightened or concerned. On the contrary, he looked vigilant, determined.

Because they were still on their knees, he motioned her to crawl in close to him. In her fright, she plunged forward quickly, but he motioned her to stop, then coaxed her to approach him as slowly as possible.

“Remember, movement can be sensed by an alert scout,” he explained.

She gave him one brief nod then carefully crawled toward him. When she was well within his ability to reach for her, he took her in his arms.

Placing his lips to her ear, he whispered, “No matter what happens, you are not to cry out, do you understand? We must hide. It will not be a comfortable spot that I have chosen, but it will be a good cover, and it should be effective. Are you ready?”

Too scared to speak, she nodded.

“We will hide in the bushes.” He pointed toward them.

She looked. “Are you crazy?” she whispered, turning her attention back to him. “Those are wild rose bushes. They are full of thorns and stickers.”

“Exactly,” he said. “We will be well hidden.”

“Exactly? But—”

“You must take off your dress now, quickly, for it is too full. I will not be able to prod you into and out of those bushes easily while you are wearing this. Worse, you might get stuck. Hurry.”

“Prod me?”

“You will not be hurt.”

She didn’t think to contradict him. As rapidly as possible, she reached her arms around behind her to undo the buttons, but the clasps were small, material-covered, and difficult even under the best of circumstances. Her fingers fumbled over the tiny objects, and she was almost crying when she said, “I can’t do it.”

“Hokahe,” he said. “I remember these well. It would take more time than we have to undo them. Therefore I am going to have to cut the dress off you. Do you understand?”

“Rip it. Just rip the thing off me. I’ll repair it later.”

“Hiya, I cannot. The air around you is much like water—it carries waves. If I rip this dress, it will send out swells, much like the circles you see in the water, but these are in the air, and if this party has a scout within it that is alert, he will sense it. Hold still, it is not a difficult task to cut it.”

She held still, and he cut it away, peeling the garment from her and leaving her standing in only her chemise, corset, drawers, hose and slippers. The chemise came off next, though more easily, and soon it too fell away. Without a word, he wadded up both dress and chemise in his hands.

“Quickly,” he said, “follow me.”

She did, and they crept toward the bushes as fast as possible, half running in squats, half crawling. All the way there, Marietta eyed those bushes. Yes, they were beautiful. True, they smelled sweet…but she feared them. She wondered which was worse—to die by getting scratched to death by thorns, or to meet the war party?

Clearly, Grey Coyote considered the former the better alternative. But did she?

However, it didn’t appear she had a choice.

Having reached the bushes, Grey Coyote turned to her, and beneath his breath, said, “I chose this particular spot for our training because we can hide in these bushes. They will conceal us.”

Bending down, he pulled up the branches of the rose bushes: Good Lord, there was room beneath those branches, enough to hide. Odd that she had never realized this about the rose bush. It would be a tight squeeze, true, but they would still fit.

Grey Coyote had shoved his robe up under those bushes, and pulling it out now, he opened it. For a moment, she stared at him aghast.

In anticipation of such an event, he had planned an escape route ahead of time. Her fear of these bushes had been groundless.

However, Grey Coyote was in motion, and pushing her cut-up dress and chemise into the top of the robe first, he turned to her. “You must crawl within the buffalo robe and pull it around you like a cocoon. Come, lie down on it, and make sure it is wrapped around you firmly.”

“But—”

He interrupted her. “You will then scoot up under the bush with all your might while I will push you. Do you understand?”

She nodded and did as he instructed.

“One moment.” He bent forward to pull the robe up over an exposed spot. “Now go, scoot up as far as you can.”

Without another thought, she did it, using her forearms and every muscle available to her to push herself under that bush. Meanwhile, Grey Coyote assisted by shoving at her.

Fragrances of rawhide, all mixed up with roses, dirt and the woodsy scent of bark assailed her, and combined with the scent of her own fear, the smell was distinct. But the one thing she had dreaded most didn’t happen. She wasn’t pricked. The robe had cushioned her against it.

At last it was done, but she was yet again surprised when Grey Coyote didn’t follow her.

Not only that, she heard him moving away. Instinctively, she called out in a whisper, “Aren’t you coming in here with me?”

“I will be back. But first I must erase our tracks from the earth. If I do not return, you are to stay here and keep silent. No matter what happens, you are not to say a word or indicate in any way you are here. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she whispered, and the next thing she knew he was gone, leaving her alone with her thoughts.