Evelyn had never seen him behave this way. She walked around and sat on the other side, her rifle in her lap. On the heights to the west a bear roared. To the northeast a wolf raised an ululating cry to the moon. She barely noticed. Neither was near enough to pose a danger. “I thought you cared for me.”
“I do,” Dega said.
“Then what in the world is going on? Why are you acting this way? You never said anything about this Nansusequa stuff before.”
“Not think of it before.”
“What brought it on?”
Dega hesitated. She might become mad at his mother if he told her the truth, so he said, “It bring on itself.”
Evelyn lapsed into silence. She supposed that from his point of view it was fitting that his children be raised Nansusequa. But to only raise them Nansusequa was asking too much. Besides, how could she, when she wasn’t a Nansusequa herself? She had no objection to learning their ways, but she couldn’t just stop being part white and part Shoshone. It was ingrained into her. She put her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands and stared sadly at the picnic basket. Her getaway had been ruined.
Dega had never seen her so sorrowful. He squirmed and bowed his head and wondered if he was asking too much of her. Which led him to wondering if his mother was asking too much of him. He and his sisters were the last of their kind, yes. Unless he married one of them—and the Nansusequa never did that—any woman he took for his wife would have beliefs and habits of her own and would desire to raise their children accordingly. How, then, could he raise his children strictly as Nansusequa? He ran a hand over his brow. All this thinking was hurting his head.
Evelyn happened to gaze past him and stiffened. Something had appeared at the edge of the clearing. Not the mountain lion, something else. She discerned a low hump that could be…anything…watching them. “We have company,” she quietly announced.
Dega snapped out of himself. “Where?”
“Behind you. Don’t turn around. We don’t want to spook it.” Evelyn put another branch on the fire and the flames grew. So did the circle of firelight but not far enough to reach the…thing.
“Maybe it what we chase.”
“Do you have any notion what it is?”
Dega did, but his eyes might have been mistaken. “Night play trick on me. I not sure.”
“It’s not big enough to be a threat,” Evelyn said. “Maybe it will just go away.” The next moment, to her astonishment, the thing started to grow. It rose until it was three times as tall. Its silhouette was too vague for her to identify, but one fact was apparent. “My God! It’s standing on two legs.”
Not only that, it was coming toward them.
Chapter Thirteen
Evelyn held her breath. She wrapped her hands around the Hawken, ready to jerk it up and shoot.
Dega looked over his shoulder. He had been right, then. The night hadn’t played tricks on him. “It is a person.”
Evelyn had reached the same conclusion. She forced a smile and said, “How do you do?”
Whoever it was halted just beyond the firelight.
“Do you speak English?” Evelyn asked, and when she got no response, she asked the same thing in Shoshone.
The figure stood motionless.
“We’re friendly,” Evelyn said. “We’re only staying the night.” She noticed that the horses had raised their heads and were staring at the figure. Neither betrayed any alarm. “Why don’t you come closer? We won’t hurt you.”
The figure stayed where it was.
“What do we do?” Evelyn whispered to Dega.
“We not move,” Dega said. It pleased him that she had asked his opinion instead of telling him what to do.
Evelyn had a thought. She picked up a corn cake and held it out. “Would you like something to eat? There’s plenty if you’re hungry and we’re more than happy to share.”
The figure took a step and the firelight played over it.
Astonishment caused Evelyn to stiffen and blurt, “My God! It’s a little girl!”
The child was dirty and disheveled, her face smeared with grime. Her buckskin dress was filthy and torn. Her knees had been scraped raw. Her eyes were pools of fear.
Evelyn went to rise and stopped. The instant she moved, the girl took a step back. “Wait,” she urged, and willed herself to keep her voice calm. “Don’t go. You’re welcome here.”
“We are not your enemies, child,” Dega said in Nansusequa. “I bid you welcome in peace.”
The girl raised a hand to her matted hair and scratched.
“Why won’t she speak?” Evelyn wondered. “Who can she be, wandering around in the dark all alone?” In a flash of inspiration, the explanation came to her. “I’m so stupid.”
“What?”
“That lodge we found. The dead woman and the dead boy.” Evelyn nodded at the girl. “She must be part of the same family.” Evelyn tried to communicate anew with “Behne.”
The girl didn’t answer.
“Pehnaho.”
Still no response.
Evelyn tried, “Ne dei’.” It was Shoshone for, I am a friend. But it brought no reply, either. To Dega she said, “How can we get her to talk?”
“I not know.”
“Ne qai neetsiiqwa en.” Evelyn had told the girl that she wouldn’t hurt her. Once again, with no result.
“Keep trying,” Dega urged.
“Kui yekwi.”
“What that one?”
“I asked her to come sit with us,” Evelyn translated. She moved her hand that held the corn cake to her lap and saw the girl follow the movement. Another inspiration struck. “Deka,” she said, and tossed the cake.
It landed a foot or so from the girl. She took a step and reached for it but then cast an anxious glance at them and drew her arm back.
“It is yours,” Evelyn said in Shoshone. “Eat it.” She couldn’t remember if the Tukaduka spoke the exact same dialect as her mother’s people, but the tongues were close enough that the girl should be able to understand her. “Damn, I wish she would say something,” she whispered to Dega, and then realized what she had said. “Don’t tell my pa I cussed or he’ll want to wash out my mouth with soap.”
“What is cussed?” Dega couldn’t recall hearing the word before.
“I said ‘damn’ and ladies aren’t supposed to swear.”
“What is swear?”
“It’s when you use bad words.”
Once again, Dega was confused. “How words be bad?”
“You know. Words that people say when they’re mad. Or words about things people shouldn’t talk about.”
Dega sighed in frustration. He had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. The Nansusequa used the same words whether they were mad or not. “Why ladies not say those words?”
“Don’t ask me. It’s all right for men to use them but not women, although when I was back in the States I heard plenty of women swear worse than my pa ever does.” Evelyn had forgotten the girl. She looked over and smiled.
The girl had picked up the corn cake and was tearing ravenously at it with her teeth. She made mewing sounds as she ate, as if the food were delicious beyond compare.
“Look at her.”
“I see,” Dega said.
“The poor thing is starved.” Evelyn took another corn cake and threw it. This one landed at the girl’s feet. Quick as thought, the girl pounced on it and commenced to gobble both at once, virtually stuffing them into her mouth.