Before I could think about it, she was already beginning to overcome the obstacle in front of us. As her front legs and body shot into the air, I felt myself slide backwards on the smooth, sweat-covered horseback...
It all happened lightning fast. My fingers lost their grip on the mane and I fell into space. I shouted. The next moment I landed on something soft and furry, rolled off it, and instinctively crouched behind the dead buffalo.
I held my breath as the herd veered left and right to avoid the obstacle, like a rushing river rushing around a central rock. I covered my head with my hands and made myself as small as possible, feeling the soft, curly fur against my cheek and inhaling the pungent scent of game.
Another scream - a human one - not far away. I dared to raise my head a little and peer over my protective wall of brown, matted fur. The herd seemed to be thinning out. Their bulk drifted off in a different direction, but still a few buffalo trotted past on either side of me. Behind them a rider on a piebald horse approached. An arrow flew off him, knocking down a buffalo beside him as he passed.
Ohitika, I wanted to scream when I recognized him. But my lungs were filled with dust and my mouth was dry, so all I could utter was a spasmodic cough. He would ride right past me. I took the risk and pushed myself up on shaky legs, waving my arms high in the air that was still dusty.
I didn't know if he had seen me. My lungs burned like hell and my eyes watered so badly I had to shut them.
When I opened them again, he had whipped his pinto around and was galloping straight at me. He shouted something, but I didn't understand it. He waved his arms and I waved back, immensely relieved. But his movements became more and more energetic, it seemed that he wanted to tell me something important.
Finally I turned around - and stared into the small black eyes of a buffalo bull that charged straight at me. Its head was huge, its horns flashing brightly in its blackish-brown fur. He was bigger and stronger than the dead buffalo I was hiding behind. Dust rose from his nostrils as he snorted furiously, tail cocked high. His back was riddled with arrows, but he didn't appear to be badly hurt — just angry. Very angry.
I stumbled backwards. My legs hit the furry body of the dead animal. I scrambled hastily over the mound of fur to the other side—out of the way of the rampaging buffalo bull, I hoped. Ohitika rode up behind me. He held his bow drawn and sent several arrows in quick succession toward the buffalo, which galloped head-on at us. One of them hit the buffalo in the eye, but still the huge animal didn't stop.
Ohitika was almost upon me. The piebald's nostrils were flared and its flanks were sticky with sweat and dust.
"Come on," he called, slinging his bow over his shoulder to keep his hands free. I thought he was going to jump me because he barely slowed his pace, one hand holding onto his mustang's mane , he leaned down a little and wrapped his free arm around my waist as he passed, lifting me onto the horse in front of him before I knew what was happening.
Together we galloped out of the remnants of the herd until we had a clear path. My strength was gone. If he hadn't grabbed me with one arm from behind, I would have just slipped off the horse. I barely noticed the Mustang slowing down and finally coming to a stop. We were by a stream; the clear gurgling water lured my bone dry throat. With Ohitika's support, I slipped off the horse and landed on unsteady legs, which immediately buckled under me. I sagged onto the grass and just wanted to sit there, panting and exhausted to death.
But suddenly Ohitika's hand gripped my arm tightly and he roughly pulled me back to my feet. His face was as angry as I had ever seen him - he who was always so composed. Suddenly I was awake again.
"Doesn't Malie have any sense?" he hissed. His breath brushed my face, he was so close to me.
Dust covered his entire body, face, and hair, and beads of sweat left thin tracks on his forehead and cheeks. But his dark eyes flashed as unclouded as ever.
"Ouch," I protested, wanting to free myself from his grip, but he didn't let go.
"What are you doing here?" he asked through clenched teeth.
I cleared my throat to clear the dust from my lungs and buy time. "I just wanted to see the buffalo."
“This is not a place for girls. You could have been trampled to death."
"I'm aware of that," I said defiantly, heart in my throat. But I didn't think it was fair for him to attack me like that. I hadn't gotten the beasts going crazy, after all. "I was careful. I could didn't know that the buffalo would suddenly change direction and come towards me. Do you think I scared them on purpose?"
Finally he let go of my arm and I pulled back a little and looked at his mustang, which was quenching its thirst at the creek. "No." His expression darkened even more. "It wasn't Malie," he murmured.
I breathed a sigh of relief, but he wasn't done with me yet. "You betrayed my trust, and that of Chief Mazzukata," he said softly. "We gave you all the liberties a Lakota girl has. And you thank us by disobeying our commandments?" I knew every time he said 'us,' he meant himself.
I bit my lip. The bad conscience reported. Yes, I had left the camp without permission and lied to the guard. And I got my bill for it - a completely different kind of buffalo viewing! But my pride, damn it, felt hurt by Ohitika's angry and condescending tone. I hated being corrected like a naughty kid. I crossed my arms in front of my chest. "If you would have allowed me to go with you guys, this wouldn't have happened."
He huffed in frustration and his eyes narrowed slightly. "Are all white girls like that..." He broke off and shook his head.
"Like this_?"
"So foolish?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know how everyone is. I am what I am."
His voice turned icy. "If you want to continue living in the tents of the Lakota, then you have to learn to behave like one."
Again my “What does it mean to want! I didn't choose this! I shouldn't be here at all. And as you can see, I don't belong here."
"Yes, I can see that," he said coldly. Something in my chest ached. He took a step back and locked eyes with me. "Malie will not leave camp unsupervised again. There will always be someone near her , until she proved that she and her word can be trusted. I have spoken."
He went to the creek to wash the dust off his face. A boulder seemed to be in my stomach. I had broken everything.
Even the chief wasn't exactly happy when a little later we rode on Ohitika's piebald — I hoped my mare would have returned to the herd in the meantime — to the successful hunters. They were just pacing the scattered slain colossi to decide who had first claim to the loot. Mazzukata's eyes narrowed when he saw me, but then he focused his gaze mostly on Ohitika. Suddenly I felt even more terrible. Even if the chief didn't say anything else, I knew that Ohitika would have to explain himself to him later for not 'taking care of me'. I had disgraced him. That was the last thing I wanted.
I stayed back while the men gutted the first buffalo and divided the still-steaming entrails among themselves. I was quite glad they ignored me because I was struggling not to throw up. Also, I felt no need to look at the dead buffalo. I was closer to one than I would have liked.
Ohitika had shot ten buffalo. That sounded like a lot to me, but Wihinapa had told me that he had already brought home fourteen or even twenty animals. I knew it was me. My presence had kept him away from the rest of the hunt.
Thokala had only six buffalo to show and looked even more sour than usual. I avoided him.
The boys with their packhorses came up now to help the warriors chop up and load the booty as the sun sank lower on the horizon. The rest of the buffalo killed would be guarded from the wolves overnight by a few men.
On the way back to the tent village, I sat in silence in front of Ohitika on his stallion. I felt his body behind me and felt uncomfortable. It reminded me of our first encounter when he saved me from the bear. He had picked me up then as if I were no heavier than a straw doll. His silence was a clear sign that he was still mad at me.
Finally I couldn't take it anymore. "Ohitika," I said softly. The wind ripped the words from my mouth and I wasn't sure if he even heard. "I'm sorry."
He didn't reply and I couldn't turn to read his expression. We rode on, the line of other hunters ahead and behind us, followed by the pack horses with the meat. There would be a feast tonight, as Wihinapa had said. But I didn't feel like celebrating at all.
The women and girls were already waiting for us at the edge of the camp to receive and unload the pack horses. Their faces beamed with joy at the rich booty. Only Wihinapa's eyes got very round when she saw me on the pinto. She didn't ask anything. Together we carried some leather packs with the fresh meat to our tent while Ohitika took care of his horse.
It wasn't until we got there and buried the packets in the ground to keep them fresh that she asked softly, "Has Wakinyan seen your buffalo?"
I looked down. "Yeah, and that's enough for now," I murmured. Then I ran to the creek to wash up.