I wasn't in the mood to celebrate as I slowly strolled back from the river to our tent at dusk. I kept my eyes down and still felt like everyone was staring at me. The white girl who was stupid enough to ride straight into a herd of buffalo. That had defied a warrior's command. Maybe nobody knew yet. I hoped so.
At least I felt clean again now. The water had turned very cloudy when I dived into the cold creek. My hair was matted from sweat and it took me some effort and pain to detangle it with my hairbrush. I missed my usual shampoo from before, which made my hair nice and soft and combable. But here they only groomed their hair after washing it, rubbing it with bear fat until it shone. Basically, you had greasy hair all the time. But I had to admit that the fat also kept the hair supple and even made it water-repellent.
I had rubbed myself dry with sand and put on my dress and leggings. I had given up my underwear by now. Washing in cold water didn't work very well and I found it more hygienic to have nothing underneath. You got used to everything...
The tent already smelled of roast meat roasting on a spit over the fire—the buffalo end Wihinapa had raved about.
She looked up and smiled as I entered. "Ohitika has invited guests for tonight."
"Here in our tipi?" I asked. That too! Wihinapa and I would have to quietly retreat to the back corner and serve the gentlemen their meat. On the other hand, Ohitika wouldn't have a chance to reprimand me again. Yes, it it was better if he saw me as little as possible tonight, I would be as still as a mouse.
The guests arrived just after sunset. There were four young men, including two warriors from the other tribe whose names I did not know, and two of us: Sihahanska and Matho-a-ihanble. Luckily, Thokala-gleschka wasn't there.
The men waited for the meat to finish. Wihinapa kept having to scamper to the fire to turn the tables. She kept her eyelids lowered so as not to meet any of the young warriors' eyes. Most didn't even notice her; they talked about the hunt and the rich booty and I hoped all the time that they would not mention my presence there. Only one of them, Sihahanska, nodded her thanks to Wihinapa before retreating back to our corner. His name meant Longfoot, which suited him well for he was strikingly tall and thin, but he had kind eyes and when he smiled his whole face lit up. I couldn't be sure, but I thought I saw Wihinapa blush when he looked at her. Her pretty cheeks darkened and she turned her face away from me. After that, I kept a very close eye on the two of them.
Once the meat was fully roasted, Ohitika distributed it among his guests, taking himself last. As they ate in silence, Sihahanska's gaze occasionally darted to the back of the tent, and then I caught Wihinapa stifling a smile. I leaned closer to her and whispered in her ear, "I think he likes you."
Her eyes widened in horror even though I spoke so softly that no one could have heard. She covered her mouth with her hand while whispering back. "Sihahanska is a very capable young warrior and a good hunter. He's kind to everyone."

I rolled my eyes. Then my stomach suddenly felt queasy. If Wihinapa really liked him, maybe they would get married. And then I would be alone in the tent with Ohitika. Oh God. Or even worse, he would also get married, since he needed a wife to take care of the household. I couldn't really be counted. I still had so much to learn. No, I didn't want to give up Wihinapa. She was my only support here. My girlfriend.
She seemed to sense my mood, as she so often does, and looked at me worriedly with her big dark eyes. I shook my head and smiled to reassure her. Maybe I was just imagining it all.
When the men finally had enough, Wihinapa and I helped ourselves to what was left. Meanwhile, Ohitika filled and lit his pipe and the others did the same. Blue smoke curled overhead and drifted up toward the opening at the top of the tent. The fire in their midst crackled and crackled comfortably, and the men leaned back against their wicker frames. When they had finished smoking and tapped out their pipes, Ohitika started talking again.
He addressed the word primarily to the warriors of the other camp.
“Friends, it is good that we meet here again. The hunt was successful and gave us enough stock for the winter. Our wives and children will not go hungry."
"Hau," the others agreed. "So we'll be able to spare some warriors to drive the Vashichu out of our hunting grounds."
I sat up straighter in shock and my heart started beating faster. There it was again, that issue.
"The hunting grounds of the Seven Council Fires are vast, and Chief Mazzukata's group lives deep within Lakota tribal lands," Ohitika said. "As a result, we rarely hear about what our fellow tribesmen are doing far to the south, east, and west. But Chief Mazzukata and Tatanka Wakon do , our secret man, know of the treaty that our chiefs and those of our allied tribes made with the whites many winters ago, in which the Vashishu assured us that the lands west of the Minisose would be ours forever."
"The Vashichu speak with forked tongues," one of the warriors hissed, giving me a suspicious look.
I inhaled sharply and sank even more into the shadows of my corner. Wihinapa put her hand on mine.
"They are sending more and more of their settlers through our territory along the Chachli Wakpa," the man continued, "in search of Masaskazi, their yellow metal. As numerous as the buffalo once were, the Vashishu are now in our land. They come in great numbers with their wheeled chariots and tame buffaloes, shoot our game, pollute our land, and some settle and build their wooden teepees on our lands.We must set a sign and show them that we will not tolerate it , if they continue to take from us what is ours."
"You say the buffalo are getting fewer, but today we saw a herd as big as ever," said Ohitika.
"Our tents had to travel far to find this herd, Ohitika. When our fathers were young, they could hardly set foot on the prairies without stumbling upon vast herds of buffalo and antelope. We still have game, but if the numbers of the Vashichu keep growing, they will eat the prairie like locusts."
I wanted to speak up, but I knew that if I intervened now I would only make matters worse. Then I would have finally messed it up with Ohitika. Besides, who listened to a girl? And a white one at that.


"What are the warriors up to?" Sihahanska now asked.
The eyes of the two strange warriors touched me. "The men will discuss the exact plans among themselves," said one of them. "If you want to join us, come to my tent tomorrow evening."
Then the conversation turned to happier topics. Laughter filled the tent and the tension seemed to have evaporated for the moment. When the guests finally left our tipi late in the evening, Ohitika immediately lay down on his bed by the entrance. I had hoped to be able to speak to him, but that would have to wait until tomorrow. Before I went to sleep, I laid out the words I wanted to say to him in my head. I hoped he would listen to me. He just had to.
But the next morning Ohitika had slipped out of the tent before sunrise, even before I woke up. Like the other men, he probably had to go back to the captured buffaloes in order to dissect the remaining animals and bring them back to the camp before they lay there too long.
By noon, I was helping Wihinapa to open the skins and scrape off the scraps of flesh—backbreaking work and rather nasty—when Ohitika rode up on his piebald and looked down at me. I rose and met his gaze, fearless I hoped.
"Come on," he finally said, waving to me.
I exchanged a confused look with Wihinapa before he lifted me back onto the Mustang in front of him. My heart was pounding wildly and I wondered what that meant.
We rode all the way back to where the hunt had taken place and where the buffalo herd had left their devastating trail on the prairie. Here all the dead buffalo had already been completely dissected and gutted, leaving only what was left of the bones to bleach in the sun. A little further ahead I saw a reddish-brown mound in the grass, smaller than that of a dead buffalo like the one I had seen yesterday. Had a calf been killed by arrows?
Ohitika rode straight towards it and the closer we got, the more the queasy feeling in my stomach grew. That wasn't a buffalo. The body was too slim, the fur not shaggy enough, the legs too long...
"No!" I let out a choked cry as I recognized her and slid off the horse before Ohitika could stop.
I ran towards the fallen mare. She lay still on the trampled ground. There was dried blood on her torso just above her belly, oozing from a gash where a buffalo horn had torn it open. Flies flew off as I approached.
I hardly dared to take a closer look. Her neck lay long and limply on the ground and her eyes...those big wide eyes that I fell in love with...were empty and sightless, and stood wide open as if still expressing the fear that she must have suffered.
Oh no! I dropped to my knees in front of her and broke into sobs.
"It's my fault... It's my fault... I'm so sorry," I sobbed over and over, resting my cheek against her neck. Her body was cold and hard and didn't feel like a horse or anything anymore like a living creature in general. A slightly sickening odor emanated from her, the first signs of decomposition. Still, I couldn't tear myself away. I sobbed and sobbed, my tears wetting her soft fur. If only I could wake her up with that, As in a fairy tale.
Nothing I had done had ever had such terrible consequences. If only I hadn't been so stupid! Oh, I would never do anything illegal again. I would always trust Ohitika's judgment from now on. What was I thinking?!
I didn't know how long I lay there, my head buried in her neck, when a hand gently touched my shoulder from behind. My tears had dried up, but the bitter taste of guilt was still stuck in my throat. He climbed up and made his way out, and I quickly turned away as I threw up.
When I finally tried to get to my feet, Ohitika held out his hand. I hesitated, then grabbed it and let myself be pulled up. We faced each other. My eyes must have looked red and puffy, just like my whole face. And I'd really like to rinse my mouth out. But Ohitika didn't look disgusted. His expression was softer than usual.
"Wakinyan has a pure heart," he said, placing his hand on the center of my chest, just above my heart.
He left her there for a moment and the heat from it almost seemed to burn me. Still, I didn't want him to take her away.
“You will have a new horse. Come on," he said, dropping his hand.
I didn't know if I wanted a new horse. Did I deserve it? I looked back at the dead mare and suppressed an inward tremor. "We can't leave them to the wolves."
“The wolves will only maul her body. Her spirit is already gone."
I sniffled. "To where?"
"Back to where we all came from and will be again one day."
He probably meant the 'eternal hunting grounds. Too bad I didn't believe in it. But he seemed so sure of it that it still comforted me a little.
He helped me onto his piebald and we rode back to camp. I turned around again until I could no longer see the dead animal. My stomach ached with grief. But Ohitika seemed to have forgiven me.