CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
"Sharon! Oh my goodness! It is you! Sharon! You are here! I can't believe it! How did you come to be here?"
As Amelia and Gray Falcon stepped into the temporary Pikuni war camp, she left Gray Falcon's side to sprint across the camp, and, without slowing down even a little, she flung herself into Sharon's embrace.
"Amelia!" exclaimed Sharon joyfully. "Oh, Amelia, how happy I am to see you!"
"And, I am just as glad to see you!" said Amelia.
The two women stepped a little apart, but still held hands, as though, if one or the other were to let go, they both might disappear. Together they shared a smile, until, at length, Amelia asked, "I was so afraid I would never see you again. I have been worried. After all, it is I who convinced you to come with me into Indian Country. But, tell me, how have you come to be here this morning, looking as calm and as beautiful as if you had simply gone away from camp for little more than a leisurely walk?"
"I…it's a long story. But, first let me thank you for complimenting me when I feel so dirty and ugly. As far as my rescue, I fear it is this warrior"—Sharon dropped her hands to her sides before gesturing toward Strikes Fast—"I don't even know his name, but I believe he is a friend of your husband's. I have often seen them together."
"His name is Strikes Fast, I believe."
"Yes, well, he came into the Crow camp last night," explained Sharon, "and I still don't quite know what happened, but I watched as my captor and this man, Strikes Fast, waged a battle of…of… It must have been a battle of magic. It's the only way I can describe what happened. Strikes Fast won this fight of—I call it the battle between a tiny man and a spider—and the big Crow warrior, who had captured me, became so afraid of losing his magical spider, he gave this warrior, Strikes Fast, anything he wished to have. All Strikes Fast took from the man, however, was me and two beautiful ponies. Then we walked out of the camp of my captor. We have not stopped to do anything except twice, and those times were only done to allow our ponies and us, too, to refresh ourselves with a drink of water. But, even doing this, we did not tarry. Indeed, we have traveled the night through so we might arrive here in the morning."
Briefly, Amelia glanced at Strikes Fast and whispered the words, "Thank you," as she used the sign talk to communicate this to him. She asked Sharon, "Have you had anything to eat?"
"I shared a brief meal of pemmican with Mr. Strikes Fast only hours ago."
"Good," acknowledged Amelia. "Are you still hungry?"
"A little."
"Then, let us find Gray Falcon's sister—Itsiiy-Aakíí, or Sweet Woman in English—and together, perhaps we can prepare a meal for you."
"Could we also fix some food for Mr. Strikes Fast? I owe him so much because of what he did for me. And, he hasn't even asked me for anything. If you don't mind, I would like to help you prepare breakfast for him."
"Indeed, we shall make a meal for us all." Amelia grinned. "Yes, we shall cook a very good breakfast for him and for the other warriors, too."
****
"I decided I should be the one to rescue your wife's friend," Strikes Fast quietly explained to Gray Falcon as they counseled together, having separated themselves from the other warriors. At present, Gray Falcon's wife, his sister—Itsiiy-Aakíí—and the woman, Sharon, were at work over a fire. "After all," Strikes Fast continued, "your wife's friend was stolen by my people, the Crow, and I was in the best position to find her and bring her back to your camp. Besides"—he grinned at Gray Falcon—"I knew you should not be on the war trail after having spent much time with your wife last night. And, when your sister joined our camp in the early evening, yet you failed to return, I knew I had to act. Leaving your sister in the care of one of the Pikuni warriors, I left to go in search of the Crow warrior."
Gray Falcon flicked a glance at Strikes Fast and chuckled. "What you say about going to war, and a warrior and his wife, is true. But, when it is good for you to speak of what happened, I would like to hear the story of how you managed to rescue the woman, as well as capture two Crow ponies, and arrive back here early in the morning without having to battle a Crow scouting party."
Strikes Fast inclined his head once in agreement. "I will tell you about it when the time is right. I know the man who took her, and, although he has a powerful medicine which causes others to be fearful of him, I have never cowered before him. And, I am not without a power given to me by the Creator."
Gray Falcon smiled. "I know you have a great and unusual medicine. And, I believe the Creator was wise to gift it to you. Perhaps there may be a time yet to come when you will wish to use your gift to heal others. The Creator, after all, does not expect any man or woman to be perfect. But, I believe you must freely choose to return to this path, since the way of the medicine man is a difficult road to follow. Our traditions are not for the faint of heart. Although," he continued, "it has its rewards."
"I am certain it does," answered Strikes Fast. "And, I will think on your words, my friend."
Gray Falcon simply nodded.
Silence fell between them, until at length Gray Falcon asked, "Do you wish to continue with the war party? Or would you like to return to the Pikuni encampment with me, my wife, my sister and now the woman, Sharon?"
Strikes Fast was quick to respond, and he said, "I have no desire to go with the others to try to retrieve their stolen ponies. One reason for this is I do not wish to fight my own people. Another is that I already own the best horseflesh a man could have. Besides, I won two more ponies last night.Hánnia,I would like to return to the camp with you."
Gray Falcon nodded. "Then, this is what we shall do. Let us leave as soon as the woman, Sharon, is recovered enough to travel."
"Áa,this is a good plan." Strikes Fast paused for a moment, then asked, "And, what of her husband? I had thought he would join us in our search for her. But, I see he is not here."
"I know not of him nor of what happened to him," answered Gray Falcon. "I, too, thought he would come with you or with me. But, he is a strange person, even for a white man. He seems to prefer his painting even over the love and care he should give to his wife. Perhaps when we arrive back at camp, the others can tell us what has happened to him."
"Perhaps," said Strikes Fast.
Slanting a brief glance at his friend, Gray Falcon observed a worried expression clouding Strikes Fast's countenance. Something unstated was troubling the man, though neither one of them would speak of it; it was simply not an Indian warrior's habit to share one's personal problems with another man.
