“Where she live?” Dega brought up.
Evelyn had been wondering the same thing. The state the girl was in—filthy and famished—suggested she must be on her own, all alone in the wilderness. That she had lasted this long was a miracle. Smiling, she said in Shoshone, “When you are done eating those cakes, come and sit by the fire with us and we will share more of our food with you.”
The girl stopped and stared at her.
“You do understand,” Evelyn guessed. She patted the ground. “Sit by me, little one.”
Her fright transparent, the girl straightened and took a step. What was left of the two cakes was clutched tight in her hands.
“Neither of us will touch you,” Evelyn said. “We want to help.”
The girl took another step.
“How are you called?” Evelyn asked. “My name is Blue Flower.” It was her Shoshone name, bestowed on her at birth by her mother. “I would like to know yours.”
Dega was impressed at how Evelyn was so earnest and nice. The girl was impressed, too, because she came closer and stopped just out of reach. Crumbs speckled her dirty chin. He smiled to show that he, too, was friendly, and said in his own tongue, “We welcome you.”
“You must have a name,” Evelyn said in Shoshone. “Is it Morning Dove? Little Fawn? Rabbit Tail?” All were names of girls she knew.
The girl went on chewing.
“Is it Buffalo Hump?” Evelyn asked, referring to a noted warrior, and chuckled in amusement. She wasn’t sure but she thought the corners of the girl’s thin mouth quirked upward. “Is it Bear Running? Drags The Rope? Touch The Clouds?” Again, all names of warriors.
The girl took another bite of corn cake.
“I know.” Evelyn grinned. “It must be Cat By The Tail.” She meant it to make the girl smile and realized her mistake the moment the words were out of her mouth. The girl recoiled and stopped chewing and cast apprehensive looks over her shoulders.
“It all right,” Dega said in English. “No cat here.”
The girl turned toward Evelyn. Her eyes shimmered with tears and she tried to speak.
“We will not let anything hurt you,” Evelyn assured her. “We are friends.” She touched her chest. “Dei’.” She pointed at Degamawaku. “Hainji.”
The girl took a step back.
“Wait!” Evelyn reached for her.
Uttering a plaintive wail, the girl whirled and bolted.
“Catch her!” Evelyn cried, and was up and running. She had always been fleet of foot and she ran full out, but the girl was incredibly swift and widened her lead.
Dega sped to help. He had raced Evelyn once and beaten her, but it had taken all he had. Now he ran full out and caught up just as she reached the woods. He plunged in among the pines and oaks, heedless of the limbs that whipped at him and the brush that tore at his legs. He spied the girl and pointed. “There!”
Evelyn hadn’t taken her eyes off her. She was determined to catch the child no matter what; a little girl like that shouldn’t be left alone in the wild. So far the girl had defied the odds, but no one’s luck held forever. Evelyn flew, holding the Hawken at her side so it wouldn’t snag.
The girl glanced back, her small feet flying. She still held on to what was left of the corn cakes.
“Don’t be afraid!” Evelyn hollered.
“Stop!” Dega shouted.
The girl darted around a small spruce. They were no more than ten feet behind her yet when they rounded the spruce, she had vanished. They stopped in bewilderment.
“Where did she get to?” Evelyn asked, turning right and left. She listened but other than her heavy breathing and Dega’s, the forest was quiet.
“I not know,” Dega answered. He took a few more steps and cocked his head. “She disappear.” He was proud of that word. His English was improving.
“We can’t lose her.” Evelyn barreled into the dark tangle of vegetation. “Little girl? Where are you?” she yelled in English. Realizing her mistake, she switched to Shoshone.
Dega stayed near Evelyn. Encountering the girl had reminded him of the bodies, a fate he did not care for Evelyn to share.
Evelyn stopped. “She has to be here somewhere.” She pointed to the left. “You go that way. I’ll go this. Stay in earshot.” Without waiting for him to answer, she charged into the darkness.
Dega almost went after her. He didn’t consider it a good idea to separate. But she was counting on him to help, so he reluctantly bent his steps in the direction she had indicated. “Little girl?” he called out in Nansusequa and in English.
For a quarter of an hour they roved and hunted until finally Evelyn shouted his name and Dega jogged to meet her. She was sitting on a log, her shoulders slumped in defeat.
“I can’t believe she got away from us.”
“She like rabbit,” Dega said.
“Even so. She’s so small.” Evelyn thumped the log. “We’ll rest a spell and then head back.”
“That fine.” Dega perched next to her, careful not to let his body brush hers. Just a few days ago he would have rubbed against her on purpose.
“We have to find her. We can’t leave until we do.”
“Yes,” Dega said.
“Can you imagine what she’s been through? Her mother and brother killed by that mountain lion and now she’s all alone.”
“Where be father?”
“Maybe he was killed, too.” Evelyn rested the Hawken’s butt on the ground and leaned it on the log. “One of us should ride back at first light and fetch my folks.”
The suggestion startled Dega. “What?”
“We can use their help. Maybe fetch your folks, too. And the McNairs while you’re at it.”
“Me?”
“The girl was taking a shine to me. I could tell. She might come if I keep calling. So it has to be me who stays and searches for her while you ride for help.”
“No,” Dega said flatly.
“Pardon?”
“No,” Dega said again. “I not leave you alone.”
Evelyn swiveled toward him. “Why on earth not?”
“The cat.”
“What about it? It’s long gone by now. And I have these.” Evelyn patted the Hawken and her flintlocks. “I’ll be perfectly fine.”
“I not go.”
Evelyn’s temper flared. Here she was, trying to save that poor girl’s life, and he was balking. “I was right about you being pigheaded.”
“I not pig.”
“You’re close enough. Or don’t you care that that little girl could die and it would be on your shoulders?”
Here was another mind-twister Dega must unravel. Evelyn seemed to be saying that if the girl died, he must carry her. “Why not dig hole and bury her?”
“What?” Evelyn shook her head. “I must not be making myself plain. That girl won’t last much longer by her lonesome. You saw how scrawny she is. She’s barely eating enough to stay alive. We have to save her and we have to do it before something happens to her. Do you agree I’m right about all that?”
“Yes,” Dega reluctantly conceded.
“Let’s say I can lure her in. What then? You and me don’t know a lot about raising kids. My mother and my father do. Another reason you have to bring them, and bring them fast.”
“But the cat…”
“Will you stop harping on that? Have we seen any sign of it? No. I told you they roam a large area. It’s probably miles and miles from here.” Evelyn put her hand on his arm. “Do you care for me or not?” she asked bluntly.
“I care,” Dega said. He cared for her more than he had ever cared for anyone. Which was why he was so torn up inside. His caring for her was at war with his devotion to his mother.
“Then do this for me,” Evelyn said. “Fetch my folks. Your folks, too, if you want. Please.”