Page 15

"Stay thou close to the Missouri River, now, and follow it, but always keep thy pony travelin' on the prairie high above the river," instructed Liliann's father.

"Do not be travelin' down into the coulees that dot the prairie, no mistake, since this be where war parties make their camps durin' the day.

Does thou understand? Once thou climbs up and over the buttes and hills, thou will be seein' a flat grassland prairie.

Thou needs to be stayin' there, followin' the river, but from high above it.

"Now, I have given Little Feather, a Pikuni man"—her father pushed a gold coin into her hand as he was speaking—"compensation to lead thee up through the western bluffs and onto the prairie I speak of above the river.

Thou knows him. But, he cannot be stayin' with thee.

Once Little Feather has done his duty and he be a-turnin' to come back to the fort, give him this coin. "

"I will, Father of me. I will."

"Good. Now, me own self has put together what thou shall need to be travelin' alone.

These parfleche bags"—he pointed to each one—"be stuffed full of dried meat, no mistake.

Accordin' to Little Feather, thy soon-to-be-husband will be comin' to know thou are ridin' to him, him bein' a scout an' a medicine man, and he might join up with thee.

But, in case he does not come to thee, me own self has drawn a map, right enough, showin' where thou is now and the next settlement at The Medicine.

If thou travels in a line south and west of this fort and if thou will go this way"—he traced the path with his finger—"thou shall come to the river the Indians call 'The Medicine' right enough. "

"I thank thee, Father," Liliann said, accepting the map from her father and placing it in a bag to be tied close to hand onto her pony.

"Now, this saddle thou be sittin' on be thine own," her father continued, his voice and manner suffused with concern.

"An' there be two blankets to keep thee warm at night.

In this parfleche"—he picked up one of the rawhide bags and handed it to her—"be flint, some dry shredded bark and a knife for fire startin'.

If thou be stoppin' for the night, find cover in a growth of the pines…

this be the only time thou might have use of the many coulees dottin' the prairie.

Thou hast blankets, and this parfleche bag"—he handed it to her—"is for water, also. "

"I thank thee again, Father. Thou hast me deepest gratitude, 'tis God's own truth."

Because she favored her right arm, Liliann had some difficulty climbing up onto her pony.

But, with her father's assistance, she was soon situated upon her horse's back, and, leaning forward, she inhaled deeply.

Make no mistake, she was frightened because of what she was attempting to do.

But, there was nothing, absolutely nothing, that would hold her back from being beside First Rider.

Deep in her bones, she felt harm had him in its sights, though she had no notion of what form the evil might take.

But, she fretted. Were her fears real? After all, it was entirely possible her worries were fanciful.

However, whether this premonition was a harbinger of evil or not, it did not matter to her. She would rather die than do nothing.

Little Feather was already mounted upon his own nag and seemed to be awaiting only her.

Staring at the man, she felt a shiver run down her spine.

Liliann was acquainted with Little Feather, of course.

She was familiar with all those people who called Fort Benton home, even though she was friends with none of them.

She was a little leery of Little Feather, however, if only because she had seen him take too easily to what the Indians called "firewater.

" The truth of this was there to be seen within his bloodshot eyes and by the manner of his dress: his white man's pants and shirt were dirty and his moccasins were worn and filthy.

His hair, like all Pikuni men, was braided in three different places: one braid on each side of his face and one in back.

But, there the similarity between himself and other Pikuni men ended. Little Feather's hair was not neatly braided, and he looked as if he had just arisen from his bed and had thrown on his clothes, not bothering to bathe first.

However, if his duty were to simply lead her up though the bluffs and buttes until they reached the prairie above the Missouri River, his help would be appreciated, indeed.

Leaning down toward her father, she brought her lips to his cheek and kissed him there. Her father returned the endearment. Then he placed his hand upon the back of her saddle and said, "Godspeed, Daughter mine. Thine own father will be prayin' for thee."

"I will be prayin', too, Father. I will be prayin', and no mistake."

****

Liliann and Little Feather had journeyed through the dark hours of early morning.

But, at last they had arrived upon the high prairie, which spread out around her in every direction, close to but above the Missouri River.

They had encountered no trouble from animals or warring parties on the ride to arrive here, thank the good Lord.

But, this high prairie was where Little Feather's escort was to end.

Little Feather had brought her here safely, and she, having given him the gold coin, saw he was now embarked on returning to Fort Benton.

Liliann looked behind her to take note of Little Feather as he journeyed away from her, and as she did so, she saw the sun in the east was beginning to bring light once more into the world, though there was only a portion of its light peeking up over the hills.

Still, though the sun hadn't risen up completely, its rays were already painting the brown prairie in many hues of silver, dark blue, pink and red.

Even the dark blue of the sky overhead was beginning to mirror the bright, golden colors in the sunrise.

Truly, it was a magnificent and inspiring sight.

Closing her eyes, she said a little prayer of gratitude, asking for First Rider's safety, and, lastly, for her own safe passage to him.

Opening her eyes, she shivered a little from the cold of the previous night. It would be good, indeed, when the sun was more directly overhead, warming up the land…and her.

She watched Little Feather and his horse as they moved away from her, their silhouettes becoming smaller and smaller.

It was then when it happened; all at once a feeling of anxiety washed over her.

She would soon be alone. From this moment forward, it would be merely she and her pony who must traverse over this wide brown prairie, avoiding predators as well as enemy war parties.

Was it wise to have left the remnants of civilization behind her?

Momentarily, she felt overwhelmed. What was she doing? She didn't even know how she was going to find First Rider. As she continued watching Little Feather slowly retracing his path back to the fort, she felt her stomach churn and twist within her.

With a deep breath, she turned away and faced forward, looking outward toward the west. And, there she beheld the magnificence of the stately mountain range in the distance, so far away, yet so beautiful and majestic.

The reflection of the pinks and blues of the early morning colored the crags and cutbanks as though the sun were an artist with paint and brush.

Some of those mountains appeared to be white-capped, though she knew she was looking only at their rocky summits.

She marveled at not only their stark beauty, but somehow the very sight of the range rising up so magnificently there in the distance calmed her—at least a little.

Leaning down toward her pony's ear, she said, "Well, Misty Girl, we be havin' a rather uneventful climb over the buttes this morning. But, here we be now upon the prairie so wide and unending, and hast thou ever seen a sight so beautiful?"

Gazing down and to her left, Liliann beheld the Missouri River flowing madly downriver in its rush to reach the Mississippi, which was still thousands of miles away.

So swift was the water, there were tiny whitecapped waves on the busy and rushing channel, the river's blue-and-white stream so pretty from her vantage point this high above it.

Yet, she knew the river held secrets whispered in many a tale by the Indians; secrets of underwater people and of black holes that could pull the unsuspecting person down into the depths of the water. There were tales of people vanishing within the depths of the Missouri River, also.

Liliann shivered, then sighed. This was a wild and strange land, no mistake. But, its beauty and its mystery seemed to outweigh its inherent dangers.

To herself, she said, "I be comin' to thee, First Rider. Look for me."

She practically fell from her seat when she heard his voice clearly within her mind. He asked, "Where are you?"

Was he talking to her now? Or was she remembering him saying these words?

"I am speaking to you now," came the thought in the form of impressions and words in her mind.

Though she little understood what she was doing, she responded to him and replied, "I be on the prairie above the Big River after climbin' over the buttes and bluffs around Fort Benton this very mornin'. I be comin' to thee, me own soon-to-be-husband."

Again, she heard his voice speak to her in her mind, and he said, "I see you now. You are not far from me. I will leave where I am at once to come to you. Look for me by evening."

"I will," she responded in thought.

The communication ended abruptly, leaving Liliann more than a little startled. She hadn't thought to actually receive an answer from First Rider. But, she didn't doubt that it was he; his presence, his manner and all that made him who he was could not be mistaken for anyone else.