"We will see what mood I am in at the time," said Bloketu, loftily.
"Please!" said Iwoso.
"We will see how I feel at the time," said Bloketu, "whther Hci is nice or not, whether or not I am pleased with you. What I do then will depend on such things."
"Please," begged Iwoso.
"Do not anger me, maiden," said Bloketu, "or I may send you to him for the night, without your clothes and tied, maybe with a quirt tied around your neck, like you were a white female slave!"
Iwoso was immediately silent.
"That is better, my maiden," smiled Bloketu. "Remember you are not yet important."
Iwoso did not respond. I did not understand Bloketu's remark about Iwoso not yet being important. If that was the case, then, I gathered, she would not have to worry about Hci, or, I supposed, other warriors of the Kaiila.
"Are you obedient, my maiden?" asked Bloketu of Iwoso sweetly.
"Yes Mistress," said Iwoso, her head down. This was the first time I had ever heard Iwoso use the word to Bloketu. It is not unusual for a girl to discover that within her velvet bonds there are chains of steel.
"Why should Iwoso become important?" asked Cuwignaka, kneeling near the hide on which he was working. It seemed to me a fair question. Iwoso was, in the final analysis, in spite of being a maiden of a chieftain's daughter, only a slave.
"It does not matter," said Bloketu.
"I would like to know," said Cuwignaka. "I am curious."
"Such matters are not the proper concern of one who is only a pretty young girl like yourself," laughed Bloketu.
"I am not a female slave," said Cuwignaka, "expected to serve in ignorance, unquestioningly, supposedly concerned, truly, only with the pleasures of her master."
"Then you admit that you are a mere female," said Bloketu.
"No," said Cuwignaka.
"Listen to the pretty young thing!" laughed Bloketu.
"I am two years older than you, at least," said Cuwignaka.
"You lost meat!" laughed Bloketu.
"Tell me," said Cuwignaka.
"I think I will call a man, pretty Cuwignaka," she said, "to put you about your sewing."
"It has to do with the Yellow Knives, doesn't it?" asked Cuwignaka.
"Maybe," smiled Bloketu. I saw that she was very vain. Cuwignaka, too, must have understood this.
"If Iwoso is to become important," said Cuwignaka, "then doubtless you would be even more important."
"Perhaps," said Bloketu.
"And if you are important," said Cuwignaka, puzzled, "then surely Watonka, your father, would be even more important."
"Perhaps," said Bloketu.
"But how could one be more important than being a chief of the Isanna?" asked Cuwignaka, genuinely puzzled.
"May I speak, Mistress?" asked Iwoso.
"Yes," said Bloketu.
"If one can bring about peace between our peoples, the Kaiila and the Yellow Knives," she said, "one would surely, in the prestige of this, be very important."
"That is true," said Cuwignaka.
"In doing this," said Iwoso, "it would be like counting a hundred coups, almost like being a high chief of the Kaiila."
"That is very true," said Cuwignaka, kneeling back on the dirt, near the pegged-down hide.
Bloketu seemed relieved. Iwoso, I gathered, subtly, not quite sure of it, was a very clever young woman.
"It is my hope," Iwoso said, "to be of some small help in this business, the bringing about of peace between our peoples."
"You are a noble girl," said Cuwignaka. "I hope that you will be successful."
"Thank you," said Iwoso.
Something about this conversation disturbed me. I was not sure, however, what it was.
Cuwignaka picked up his bone scraper and, once again, began to give his attention to the hide on which he was working.
"Let us return now, Mistress," said Iwoso, "to the lodges of the Isanna." Iwoso, I noted, seemed in a hurry to take her departure.
"But did we not come here to visit with this pretty girl?" asked Bloketu. "Then we were interupted by Hci."
Iwoso was silent.
"We will tarry a moment," said Bloketu. I saw that she had not fulfilled, to her satisfaction, her desire to have sport with Cuwignaka. I did not know why she hated him so.
"Do not wait on my account," said Cuwignaka, not looking up from his work.
"She seems very dilligent," said Bloketu.
"Yes, Mistress," said Iwoso.
"What are you doing, pretty girl?" asked Bloketu.
"Scraping a hide," said Cuwignaka. "Probably what you should be doing."
"Saucy girl," chided Bloketu.
"I do not care to be mocked," said Cuwignaka.
"You are very famous," said Bloketu. "All the Kailla know of you. The Dust Legs, too, with whom we trade, know of you."
Cuwignaka grunted, irritably. It was only too likely that, through trade chains, his story had widely circulated in the Barrens. The Dust Legs, for example, who do a great deal of trading, have dealings with several tribes which, in their turn, have dealings with others. Fore example, although the Dust Legs and the Fleer are enemies, as are the Kaiila and the Fleer, the Dust Legs have dealings with the Sleen, and the Sleen, in turn, trade with trives such as the Yellow Knives and the Fleer. Thus, indirectly, even tribes hostile to the Kaiila, or normally so, such as te Fleer and the Yellow Knives might, quite possibly, have heard of Cuwignaka.
"But what they probably do not know," said Bloketu," is how pretty you are, and what a marvelous worker you are." Cuwignaka, to be sure, was a very hard worker. I did not doubt but what he was one of the hardest workers in the camp.
"It is too bad you lost all that meat," said Bloketu. "But such things can happen."
Cuwignaka did not respond to her.
"Doubtless you will not let it happen again," she said.
Cuwignaka did not respond.
"All in all, I think you would be a very valuable girl to have in a lodge, Cuwignaka," said Bloketu. "If you are not careful, the young men will come courting you."
Cuwignaka worked steadily, angrily. He did not speak. I was afraid he would cut the skin.
"Can you cook and sew?" asked Bloketu.
"I can cook," said Cuwignaka. "I am not much good at sewing."
"They young men will not mind," said Bloketu. "You are so pretty."
"Maybe not," said Cuwignaka. "You manage very well, it seems."
"Lets us go, Mistress," said Iwoso.
"Be quiet," snapped Bloketu to Iwoso.
"Yes, Mistress," said Iwoso.
"What do you mean by that?" asked Bloketu, angrily, of Cuwignaka.
"It is well known among the Kaiila," said Cuwignaka, kneeling back on his heels, putting aside the bone scraper and looking up at Bloketu, "that you are not good for much."
"Oh?" said Bloketu. She was taken aback, a bit, I think, by finding herself, ultimately only a woman, suddenly, unexpectedly, the object of so challenging and frank a gaze.
"Yes," said Cuwignaka.
"The young men do not seem to mind," said Bloketu, collecting herself, loftily.
"That is because you are the daughter of a chief," said Cuwignaka.
"No," said Bloketu, angrily. "It is because I am beautiful."
"Who has told you that?" asked Cuwignaka.
"Many men," she said.
"It was dark outside," said Cuwignaka.
"No!" said Bloketu.
"They tell you that because you are the daughter of a chief," said Cuwignaka.
"No!" said Bloketu.
"They want a kaiila from Watonka," said Cuwignaka.
"No!" said Bloketu.
Cuwignaka shrugged. I smiled. Swiftly had the tables been turned on the beauty, putting her on the defensive. I saw, too, in so simple an exchange, that Cuwignaka was intellectually dominant over Bloketu.
"Everyone tells me I am beautiful," said Bloketu, angrily.
"Have I ever told you that?" asked Cuwignaka.
"In a way," said Bloketu, warily. "Out on the prarie you told me that it was not enough to be merely beautiful."