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The Land of Burned Out Fires Page 8


  It no longer unnerved her to have it change from a manicured visitors’ walkway to something rough and narrow. When she reached a high spot and looked back at the lake, she saw that it had grown in size and the water birds that previously had numbered in the hundreds had turned into thousands. She felt a bit as if she was coming home–home to a place she’d never been to before this week.

  Morning Song was sitting outside. The doll lay unnoticed beside her. Giving into her tired legs, Kayla sank beside the girl.

  “I shouldn’t have run from your brother,” she began because she wasn’t sure how to say ‘I’m sorry’. “He wanted me to understand what was happening, and I appreciate it. I just—I just wasn’t prepared for how many soldiers there were.”

  “It is more every day. They have cannons and endless rifles and enough food to last for many moons.”

  Shuddering, Kayla picked up a stick and began making circles in the dirt with it. Concentrating, she remembered the feel of Robert Palmer’s arm around her shoulder; it helped. “That’s what your brother told me. The ranch where your son is—are soldiers there?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “But not all the time?”

  “No.” Morning Song studied what she was doing. “I think it is because the ranchers do not want to have to feed all those men. And their horses eat grass that the ranchers’ cattle need.”

  “Good.” She still couldn’t quite believe what she was doing and what she was about to say, but the conversation with Joel echoed inside her. Maybe he wasn’t interested in taking on a lot of responsibility, but it wasn’t that simple for her. “The ranchers who live in the area, do they all know each other?”

  “I do not think so. They live far apart, and new people keep coming.”

  “That’s good. Hopefully their seeing a strange girl won’t raise much suspicion.” She shifted the stick to her other hand and made more circles. “My hair is cut in a modern style, but hopefully we can make it not so obvious.”

  Morning Song stared at her.

  “I don’t want to have to talk any more than necessary because I might say things that sound strange to the people who have your son, modern phrases. I was thinking—I could go to the ranch house and tell them that my family was passing through in some wagons—that’s right, isn’t it? They’d be using wagons, wouldn’t they?”

  “Some do.”

  “Okay, all right.” She steadied herself with a deep breath. “So I’d tell them that the Indians attacked our wagons, and my father told everyone to scatter. I got separated from the others but intend to wait for them at the army camp. All I want—” Was this really her planning this insane and dangerous plan? “All I want is a place to spend the night. Then when everyone is asleep...” Her voice gave out, forcing her to wait for it to return. “I’ll wrap your son in a blanket and slip out.”

  “You would do that?”

  Morning Song sounded breathless. Looking up from her endless circles, Kayla met the young mother’s eyes. “I have to.”

  “Why?”

  “Eagle. This stone.” She cupped her hand around it. “Earlier today, I was talking to a girl cousin my age with a baby. Her baby laughed, and the stone got hot.”

  “And that tells you, you must do this thing?”

  “Kind of.” She frowned. “I keep thinking—it’s so complicated, but...Morning Song, what it comes down to is that I don’t want you to go through the rest of your life never hearing your son laugh again, not without my trying to get him back. I can’t pretend that things will turn out all right without me. Whatever I have to do to make sure that doesn’t happen, I will.”

  They were silent for a long time. Kayla made more circles. Morning Song picked up her doll and fussed with its deerskin dress.

  “My brother said you would not return.” Morning Song cleared her throat. “He did not believe that the bond between you and me is strong.”

  “I don’t blame him. The last he saw of me, I was running like a chicken.” And eagles kill chickens.

  Morning Song cocked her head and frowned.

  “It’s an expression, a pretty lame one if you ask me.” She tried to strike a light tone, no easy task while thinking of what an eagle was capable of. “Where is he? Do you think he knows I returned?”

  “It was he who told me you were coming.” Morning Song stroked the doll’s head. “He wants to talk to you.”

  “All—right. Morning Song, sometimes he scares me.”

  “It is not easy to be a Modoc man—a warrior against more of the enemy than he can count.”

  ****

  True Hand appeared so soon after Morning Song got to her feet that Kayla was certain he’d been watching them. Great! He probably had eagle eyes. If he was angry at her for running away, it didn’t show, but he looked so fierce that it took everything she had not to shrink away from him. He barely acknowledged his sister.

  “My father, uncles, and the other men talked for a long time last night,” he said. “We have met like this before, but we keep doing it because—because there must be a way!”

  “A way to free your nephew without getting killed or causing even more trouble between Modocs and whites?”

  “Yes.”

  “And did you come up with anything?”

  He clutched his fists. “Many of our old people believe that if we stay here and do not give them reason to fire upon us, that we will be allowed to stay here.” He leaned toward her, and she sensed his turmoil. He didn’t scare her quite as much. “They tell me that life of one baby must not come before the lives of all Modoc people.”

  “I understand. The question is, do you?”

  From his somber expression she guessed how horribly hard doing nothing was for him, but instead of answering her, he sat next to his sister and had her go over her plan step by step. By the time she’d finished, the sun was starting to set. If the same was happening in the world she’d left, she’d be missed. People might come looking for her, not that she could think about that. He pointed out that her story about an Indian attack separating her from her family wouldn’t work because news like that traveled fast. She responded that she’d come up with something, but he didn’t look convinced.

  “What?” she asked. True Hand had just said something she hadn’t caught.

  “Your clothes are wrong.”

  She was in the shorts and cotton top she’d worn this morning. “I know they’re dirty but—”

  “You cannot wear them when you go to the ranch.”

  He was right. How could she have forgotten that?

  “I must get you clothing that will not make anyone suspicious.”

  “How? What do you mean, get?”

  “I will take from ranchers.”

  “Steal them you mean? Oh, what does it matter?” she asked herself, wondering at the line she’d crossed over. What did the theft of a few articles of clothing matter when a family’s happiness and maybe a baby’s life was at stake? “True Hand, you can’t do that.”

  “I must.”

  Because you’re willing to take risks to keep your sister’s heart from breaking. “I understand your determination. What I mean is, you can’t take a dress from the ranch where the baby is. If I show up wearing it, they’ll be suspicious.”

  “I know.”

  Well, of course he did; he wasn’t stupid. Just because she sometimes had to point out the obvious to her brother didn’t mean all guys couldn’t think their way out of a paper bag.

  “There is another ranch,” he said. “It is close to the army camp. The woman hangs her clothes out to dry. Perhaps she does not care what becomes of them.”

  And maybe it hadn’t occurred to her that a Modoc would want to steal them. “Close to the soldiers? Isn’t there another—”

  “The other ranches where there are women are far from here. I would have to travel where the land is flat and open.”

  “Oh course. I should have thought of that.”

  “True Hand I do not want you t
o take this chance,” Morning Song said, clutching her brother’s hand. “Have you spoken to our father about—”

  “No,” True Hand interrupted. “And neither will you. Our father and the other men’s hearts break when they hear you crying, but they remember attacks that left too many dead, and that makes them stare at their weapons instead of picking them up. Many have children. I will not ask them to risk their lives. I am not married. I am not needed as much.”

  “You’re wrong. Your hunting skills—”

  “I am not the only hunter. Sister, your words will not change me. I cannot sit doing nothing. I cannot! If she—” He nodded at Kayla. “If she has the courage to try to bring back your son, it is nothing for me to go to a place and grab a few clothes.”

  Unless he was spotted.

  ****

  True Hand adamantly told her “no” when Kayla first announced that she was going with him. He argued that she was a woman and had no experience fighting. Having never been called a woman before, Kayla took it both as a compliment and a challenge. She wasn’t about to tell him that she had indeed been in a fight–and that when the other second grade girl had pulled her hair, she’d run crying to the teacher. True Hand might be skilled enough to slip in and to get the clothing she'd need, but four eyes were better than two. Besides, she told him, if he got into trouble, he had a much better chance of surviving if there was someone on his side, especially a white girl. He continued to protest until she pointed out that if worse came to worse, she'd throw herself on the mercy of whoever grabbed him and beg for his life.

  Going by his shocked expression, Kayla had no doubt that True Hand would have stalked off without her if Morning Song hadn't spoken up.

  “She is right,” Morning Song insisted. “If the enemy sees a Modoc, they will kill him. They will not fire at a white woman.”

  “You do not know that.”

  Hearing that made it hard for Kayla to swallow.

  “I am a man,” True Hand continued. “A man does not hide behind a woman's skirts.”

  “That's not what you'll be doing. I swear, you are the most stubborn, opinionated man I've ever known.”

  “She is right,” Morning Song repeated as True Hand was opening his mouth. “You see things only your way.” She looked at Kayla. “I do not want either of you to go, but I see no other way to bring my baby home. It has come to me that if Kayla can travel from her time to ours, this is meant to be. She will be safe.” She reached for her brother. “And so will you because the two of you are together.”

  When True Hand stared at her, Kayla held up her necklace but didn't say anything. After closing his eyes while he chanted something she couldn't quite hear—probably a prayer—he kissed his sister's cheek and said he'd add enough food to his supply for Kayla. When Morning Song offered her moccasins, Kayla hugged her new friend and agreed to take them along just in case, but her tennis shoes would be more comfortable for the walk.

  There wouldn't be much time for sleep, True Hand reminded her as they took off. It would take most of the night to reach the ranch, and then they'd have to wait for the woman to hang out her wash which might not happen for several days. Hopefully returning to the cave would take less time than the trip there since they'd probably be able to travel during the day. They went on foot because, as True Hand explained, that way there was less chance they'd be spotted by nearby soldiers.

  True Hand led, effortlessly finding relatively smooth places to walk. The more time she spent with him the more impressed Kayla became with his competence. He didn't boast. Why should he? To him understanding the land was no more remarkable than anything else he did. Although he was still in his teens, he was a responsible man. When she asked about cougars, wolves, and bears, he looked at her as if she was slow.

  “Only grizzlies are unafraid of humans,” he said. “All others run from us.”

  “But cougars and wolves have sharp teeth and claws. You've never heard of anyone who's been attacked by them?”

  “Never.”

  “What about grizzlies?”

  “They are masters of this land.”

  “Then it's not safe, is it?” She suppressed a shudder.

  “My eyes and ears are open. I know what the air feels like when a grizzly is near.”

  Although she barely understood what he was saying, she believed him. Besides, the true danger came from solders, not animals. “I've never known anyone who could say anything remotely like that. The way things are now—in my now I mean—most people live in cities. They seldom go to what's left of the wilderness. The air smells of car exhaust, not grizzlies.”

  He stopped walking and turned to regard her. She struggled to think of a way to tell him about everything that had happened to the world since his time. Instead of bombarding her with questions that might take forever to answer, he shook his head.

  “After Sky Spirit made this land,” he said. “He brought his family here to live. One day Wind Spirit created a powerful storm. Sky Spirit warned his children to hide from the wind, but his young daughter came out of their lodge. Wind Spirit caught her hair and blew her over the snow and ice. She landed in trees where a grizzly found her. The grizzly carried her home with him, and he and his wife raised her with their cubs. Finally she returned to Sky Spirit, bringing with her wisdom about grizzlies. This is what I know, Kayla. Not ci-ties and what you say has happened to the air.”

  She could tell him there was no such thing as Sky or Wind Spirits or bears who raised little girls, but she was in his world, and tonight, with a nearly full moon lighting the way, she'd never felt more content.

  “True Hand?” she said after they'd been walking for several minutes.

  “What?”

  “The other day—I think it was the other day. Things are getting so confused. Anyway, I was talking to someone who told me about some butte where the Modocs went—where you go—for spirit quests.”

  “Schonchin Butte.”

  “Yes, that's it,” she said, struck by how beautiful the words sounded coming from him. “You've been there?”

  “Yes.”

  “For your spirit quest?”

  “Yes.”

  Warned by his short answers, she asked if quests were something he wasn't supposed to talk about.

  “Not that.” He waited while she squeezed around some particularly sharp lava. “No one says what a man may or may not reveal about the time he spends there. But I do not know how to make you understand.”

  “Just as I can't explain my world to you.” She should be concentrating on picking her way, but she might never have another chance to talk like this with True Hand. “Mine isn't important tonight. We're so far from it. But we're in yours. Anything you can tell me—please, I'd love to know. I need to.”

  True Hand didn't say anything for several seconds. “Sometimes those who are still boys climb Schonchin together. Sometimes they go alone, or their male relatives accompany them. It is a time of prayer and peace, of reaching out in one's mind.”

  “Did you find peace?”

  “While I was there I did. Then I returned to a land filled with our enemies.”

  “Maybe if you go again, you'll get back that sense of peace.”

  “I want to make the climb again, but I do not need to.”

  “I don't understand.”

  Saying nothing, he walked to the top of a rise and looked around. Satisfied with whatever he'd seen, he rejoined her. “I found my spirit. Eagle has been with me ever since. Eagle gives my heart courage.”

  Eagle? She shuddered, but it had nothing to do with the night's cooler temperature.

  “I fasted and prayed. When I was not praying, I thought of my people's beginning and thanked Sky Spirit for creating this land for us. For every rock and tree. After three days, my thirst was great, but I did not give into it because I wanted my body to be empty and hungry.”

  She wasn't sure she knew what he was talking about but didn't interrupt to tell him that.

  “In the a
fternoon, as I sat facing what the newcomers call Mt. Shasta, Eagle flew over me. Some of his feathers fell to the earth. I have kept them with me.” He touched a small bag around his neck.

  “I—I'm glad you have that.” Do you know about me and Eagle?

  “At first I did not know whether I wanted to tell you these things, but now I trust you.”

  For a while, she simply worked at matching his pace. Despite her earlier confidence in her tennis shoes, she'd prefer having boots about now. How True Hand could do this barefoot was beyond her. What did shoes matter? An incredible connection existed between True Hand and her!

  “True Hand? Uh, you said that Sky Spirit is responsible for every tree and rock.”

  “He created them, yes.”

  “How?”

  Despite the necessity to concentrate on where they were going, True Hand explained that Sky Spirit turned to Rain and Wind, who helped him fashion the earth. By combining their energy, Rain and Wind left marks on the earth so the Modocs would never forget. Creeks and rivers were proof of that, as were wind-blasted hillsides.

  Lost in his words, Kayla wasn't surprised to feel her necklace grow warm. Before, she'd been concerned with how cold it was getting, but she no longer did. Watching an intense movie sometimes made her feel as if she’d become part of what was happening on the screen, but it had never been like this.

  “Rain beat down on dirt and rocks,” True Hand continued. “Some were great black boulders that Sky Spirit had placed on the ground. By the time Rain was done, those boulders had broken apart.” He glanced back. In the moonlight, she could tell that his gaze was focused on her necklace. “Many small and smooth black rocks had been formed. Wind picked them up and scattered them throughout the world.”

  “When one of these sacred rocks are placed near a person's heart,” he finished. “That person is touched by Sky Spirit.”