Chapter Ten

Standing on firm, high ground, Carolyn gazed out over the grayish-green bog before them. A few buffalo were grazing on the low land, the animals munching on the lush grasses which grew so abundantly around the swamp.

In the distance Carolyn’s eyes fastened on a huge mountain of ashen-brown rocks jutting up into the morning brilliance of a blue, cloudless sky. Those rocks appeared to Carolyn as though they might have once been a majestic cathedral or a gigantic castle worn down over time to mere rock and grit.

Closer at hand, the ground rose up on a gradual incline toward those rocks. It was here that she was mesmerized by the sight of a buffalo herd so vast it looked like a blanket tossed over a spot of grass. And right in front of her a part of that herd—fifteen or perhaps twenty buffalo—grazed. The animals were probably not more than thirty feet away. Brushing a fly from her face, Carolyn thought she would never again mistake the scent of buffalo.

Funny how that one sense, the one of smell, could bring back memories of eight and a half years ago. Funny, too, how she had forgotten.

But then, why should she remember these things from her past? As life had gone on, and when she had thought of the past at all, she had overlooked many things: like her reaction to Lone Arrow.

Would it have made a difference if she had remembered? Would it have changed her decision to come here?

Of course not.

She sighed, and as she did so, she inhaled the sweet fragrance of the grasses and flowers which littered the bog. Their scent, all mixed up with the grimy odor of dirt and marsh, stimulated her, bringing back wave upon wave of memories. Ones she hadn’t even known she had.

Odd, she thought. This was probably the closest she had ever been to the buffalo; even eight and a half years ago, she had never come so near to them. Usually the animals moved away as soon as they caught the human scent.

Which brought to mind another question: why didn’t these buffalo run?

Carolyn turned to Pretty Moon, thinking to put the question to words, but as though the other woman knew her thoughts, Pretty Moon said, by way of signs, “It is the wind.”

“The wind?” Carolyn signed the question.

Pretty Moon nodded.

Ah, so that was it; Carolyn at last understood. She and Pretty Moon stood downwind from the buffalo; and because of this, the pack could not pick up the human scent. These buffalo literally had no idea that they were being watched by human eyes.

Inhaling another earth-fragrant breath, Carolyn continued to watch the scene before her with fascination. Meanwhile, Pretty Moon silently slipped off their pony’s back. The young Indian woman came to stand by Carolyn, and together, both of them stared out upon the land before them as though it were the most beautiful thing under God’s creation.

And perhaps it was.

Carolyn relaxed. She felt good; moreover, she was experiencing more than a slight feeling of kinship with this woman who stood beside her.

It was an entirely new experience for Carolyn. Never having had any siblings or close friends her own age, Carolyn began to wonder what she had missed by not having sisters.

Had it been only this morning that she and Pretty Moon had made a pact? It seemed so long ago.

Having only the one pony to ride, they had agreed that they would alternately ride or walk, each one taking their turn atop the animal while the other led the pack mule. It was a perfect arrangement; absolutely perfect, for friends.

Pretty Moon touched her shoulder, and gaining Carolyn’s attention, she pointed out something. Carolyn stared off in the direction shown her. Ah, there it was—there, to her right. A coyote was crouching behind some bushes, he, too, watching the buffalo herd; only this wiley animal did so with hungry eyes.

Carolyn smiled. Alas, this was, indeed, a glorious moment, and she felt as though a part of her were expanding—at least that part of her which had nothing to do with the physical body. Leisurely, as though she had all the time in the world, she let her vision travel to the far corners of the surrounding countryside.

Interrupting her thoughts, a bee flew before her eyes, perhaps showering her with little bits of pollen, for Carolyn all at once sneezed, then sniffled.

Fishing in her pocket for a handkerchief, she let her thoughts drift back to the early hours of the morning, to the fort. Strangely enough, the two women had escaped Fort Ellis and the Indian encampment, as well, without incident. Carolyn had simply explained to the fort’s guards that she had hired Pretty Moon to lead her to her parents’ graves, which were located somewhere in the Bighorn Mountains.

It was a factual enough statement, since it was something Carolyn meant to do…if she had time. She really hadn’t lied.

Had she?

So why should the half-truth bother her?

No, she thought as she ran the idea around in her mind, she had done what she had to do. The trouble was, and this was what was difficult to understand, leaving the fort had been so easy to do.

Too easy. Perhaps that’s what bothered her.

Would their men follow them?

Their men?

Carolyn instinctively shied away from that thought, as well as any reason as to why she might have had it.

Of course Lone Arrow and his friend would follow them. And they would be angry.

At least Lone Arrow could not stop her, could he? Not now anyway, now that she had left.

After all, what could he do?

She groaned. A great deal, she feared. He could ensure she never found the cave.

Carolyn was not aware that she was frowning until Pretty Moon reached out toward her, cutting into Carolyn’s contemplations. In her hand Pretty Moon extended a piece of jerky.

Ah, breakfast. A smile came easily to Carolyn’s face as she accepted the food readily, tearing off a section of it with her teeth.

Reaching into her own bag, Carolyn replaced her handkerchief and took out a couple of honeycombs that she had brought with her from the fort, offering one of them to Pretty Moon, who accepted it.

Presently, Pretty Moon indicated that the two of them should keep moving, and Carolyn nodded.

“Make no sharp movements,” Pretty Moon signed as Carolyn, finishing her meal, licked her fingers and threw her bag over the pony’s back.

Positioning herself as she had watched Pretty Moon do, Carolyn jumped up onto the pony.

Although it took her three or four attempts to accomplish it, at last, Carolyn sat atop the pony. She nodded, and the two women headed out of their shrub-bush cover, out into the midst of the buffalo herd.

Hopefully, they would be halfway to those imposing, rocklike mountains before the men caught up to them. That she would have to explain herself went without question. That she and Pretty Moon might be required to turn around and go back to the fort didn’t bear consideration.

In the meantime, Carolyn decided, she would enjoy herself and the little bit of freedom she had left.

 

It started harmlessly enough. A bee buzzed around Carolyn’s face and fingers, most likely because honey still clung to her in those places.

Darn. She hated these little bees. She swished at the insect, but the little bugger wouldn’t leave her alone.

She could stick a few of her fingers in her mouth to wash off the honey, she supposed, but she hated to do that. What with petting the horse, keeping hold of the reins and pushing aside bushes in their way, Carolyn’s fingers were filthy, covered with bits of dirt and dust…and they were sticky.

Wait, she had put her handkerchief into her bag only a few moments ago, and it was within her reach. It would take her only a second to get it.

Hating to bother Pretty Moon, Carolyn leaned down to open her bag. Unfortunately, she brought up her leg slightly as she turned, not realizing until too late that the movement hit the bee, which had already landed on the horse.

The bee stung the horse, who then reared, and Carolyn, already twisted in her seat, could not hold on. She flew off the horse’s back, sailed through the air and came down with a plop, landing in a boggy mire of dirty water.

“Ouch!” Lifting a mud-soaked hand out in front of her face, she wiggled her fingers and toes; at least everything still seemed to work.

And perhaps the entire incident would not have been so bad if it hadn’t been for Pretty Moon. The other woman stood beside her, laughing.

Carolyn smoothed a lock of hair from her face and grimaced as she watched a rivulet of muddy water slide down its length.

“Go ahead and laugh,” Carolyn called to her. “I know I would, too, if someone looked as silly as I must. Although, don’t you think that one of us should go after the horse? He’s carrying all our supplies, and the mule’s following him.”

Pretty Moon nodded, although she made no move to go after the animal.

Carolyn came slowly to her feet, her bonnet flopping down over her forehead. She tried to push it back from her face, but it kept collapsing forward, splattering even more mud and gunk on her.

Her antics caused Pretty Moon to giggle even more furiously than before, one hand thrown up over her mouth.

Drat, Carolyn thought, she was wet from her neck clear down to the tips of her toes; her skirt and petticoats, now muddy and slimy, clung to her legs like oily rags, and her boots gushed murky water with each step she took. Even her bodice was drooping.

“Oh, no,” she said. “Look at me. I’m going to have to change into another skirt.”

Pretty Moon nodded, trying her best to keep from smiling. “Pretty Moon,” she pointed to herself, “will take mule…and catch…horse. Does…white friend have…other dress?”

“One,” Carolyn said. “I didn’t bring many of them, since I figured we’d do some laundry along the way.”

But she hadn’t thought she’d need to do it so soon.

“If you’ll go and fetch the pony,” continued Carolyn, “I’ll slip out of these clothes. Maybe there is some clear water here where I can wash the skirt.”

“There…” Pretty Moon pointed in the direction of a small stream. “Pretty Moon…go…get horse.”

“Yes,” Carolyn agreed. “Please.”

In answer, Pretty Moon turned around and took off, chasing after their single mode of transportation.

Carolyn took a step forward, only to trip over her own skirt.

Goodness, it was one thing after another. Maybe she should step out of the skirt so she didn’t keep tangling herself up in it.

Reaching down, she began to undo each of the buttons which held the skirt in place. So intent was she upon her task that she was unaware for the moment of the things going on around her. Perhaps that was why she didn’t see it.

Something poked her in the backside.

Turning around, she saw the reason at once. A buffalo calf had come up behind her. Curious, she reached out a hand toward it.

“You’re a cute little fellow,” she said with a smile. “Where’s your mother?”

As if in answer, the little guy switched its tail.

“Well,” she said, pulling the skirt down around her feet. “It’s been nice talking to you, and you’re a sweet little thing, but I really have to be going. I’d like this skirt to be washed before Pretty Moon comes back.”

Carolyn took a step. With one foot precariously raised, she lost her balance and fell backward…right into the calf.

It cried, and as Carolyn pitched to the ground, the calf collapsed over her.

Goodness, but the little guy was acting like a baby. It whined and cried as though she had done it bodily harm.

Carolyn tried to extricate herself from underneath the calf. Praise be, but it sure did weigh a great deal. She shoved against him, but she could not budge him.

“Would you move off me?” Exasperated, the question came out as more complaint than question.

The calf merely let out another moan. Goodness gracious!

Unfortunately, another buffalo, perhaps the calf’s mother, was making its way toward them, a little too quickly.

But Carolyn barely noticed. She had her own problems. The calf could not get up, and she could not move it, either. Its feet had become entangled, and the more it struggled, the more ensnared it became.

Carolyn sent a helpless glance up toward the heavens. What was she to do?

As she tried once more to move and could not, she realized that she was going to have to help the little buffalo get to its feet. Leaning over, she touched its hairy legs and began to set its feet out, one over another.

There, now. She almost had it. In another moment, she would have the calf back on its feet, and gain her own legs out from underneath it.

Miserably, she noted as she glanced around her, she had drawn a crowd. Four buffalo had come to stand over her, looking down at her as though she were the latest in Wild West entertainment.

In little time, however, the calf was back on its own legs, and Carolyn was able to struggle to her feet. Taking a deep breath and stepping completely out of her skirt and petticoats, she paced around the other buffalo that had come to watch her.

They reminded her of cows somehow. Big, dangerous, wild cows, yes, but cows nevertheless.

The stream that Pretty Moon had pointed out was only a short distance away, and Carolyn paced quickly toward it, unaware that the calf followed her. And so it was that Carolyn had little knowledge that the calf’s mother followed it, and that the other buffalo began to follow the mother, keeping to its quickened pace.

Soon a few buffalo tramped by her. Then several more.

Carolyn did notice that the animals appeared to be moving a little too fast. But she didn’t think much about it; certainly it was no reason to glance behind her.

Unaware of what was beginning to take place, Carolyn picked up her pace. In truth, she began to run toward the stream. She had almost made it, too, when it happened.

The buffalo, which had begun to surround her, were beginning to pass by quickly, their speed perhaps matching her own. And at last, Carolyn thought to glance over her shoulder.

Dear Lord, she thought as she took it all in. How had this happened? The entire herd was beginning to follow her and the calf. Worse, unless she did something soon, she might likely be trampled to death.

But if they were following her, would they also stop if she did?

The little guy behind her let out another whimper as the bigger animals pushed past them. Carolyn turned around, her gaze falling onto the baby. At least he wasn’t running away from her. Carolyn fell to her knees before him, throwing her arms around the animal. Could he possibly be her lifeline?

Would the other buffalo be aware of them, perhaps even watch out for him, making a path around him?

As the thunder of pounding hoofs began to drown out even this disturbing thought, Carolyn could only pray that it would be so.