Page 40

Standing outside their wikiup, First Rider took hold of his stone pipe and filled the bowl with nah wak'o sos , the tobacco plant traditionally grown by the Blackfeet medicine men.

Bending down to pick up a coal from their fire, he lit the sacred tobacco and took a puff, blowing the smoke first up to the heavens, and taking in another puff, he blew smoke down to the earth and then to the four corners of the world.

Only then did he start his prayer, speaking in Blackfeet:

O á'pistotooki, Creator, hear my plea and have pity upon me and my woman.

I seek your guidance in a trouble I have no remedy for.

I love my woman and yearn for her as I have never longed for another.

But, though we are married, her beliefs are different from ours and her God forbids her from becoming my second wife.

Further, her God forbids even me, her man, from taking more than one wife.

O á'pistotooki, Creator, I was once married to Tsistsaki, who was stolen from our camp. Though I searched for her in other camps, even in enemy territory, I did not find her.

O á'pistotooki, Creator, when an Assiniboine scout told me she had married an Assiniboine warrior, but she had recently died, I was filled with terrible grief and I do not know how I lived.

But, then I was called upon to heal a friend, Otahki, with whom I share a spiritual bond. We became man and woman.

O á'pistotooki, Creator, I have recently discovered my first wife, Tsistsaki, is likely alive and living in the Flathead camp.

Because I gave my pledge to Tsistsaki's father to find her and bring her back to our encampment, I must now attempt to discover if this be true: is she alive and living with the Flathead?

If it be true, I am caught by my own pledge to care for Tsistsaki as my first wife.

But, I am now the husband of Otahki, who has no choice but to leave me if Tsistsaki comes back into my life.

O á'pistotooki, Creator, I beg you to have pity on Otahki and on me. I hunger for her touch, and I fear without her all joy in my life will disappear.

O á'pistotooki, Creator, both Otahki and I are facing great unhappiness. We believe we are either to live our lives dishonorably and remain with one another, or we must be honorable and part ways for the rest of our lives.

O á'pistotooki, Creator, have pity on us.

We are young, and we hunger for each other in ways that only we can provide for one another.

Pity us. We wish to live our lives together.

There must be a path we might follow to help us remain together and also be honorable. I ask you to show me this path.

O á'pistotooki, Creator, give us a life together. Before I set out for the day, I will sacrifice my most sacred war shield to you. I have said it.

****

A storm hit suddenly, bringing with it so much snow and ice that even First Rider, a good deal taller than she, became unable to wade in it.

And, outside their grove of the tall cottonwoods, the snow was so deep, it was over First Rider's head.

Even beneath the canopy of tall cottonwoods, the snow was of knee height.

Hunting became impossible, and their stores of meat dwindled rapidly.

But, the nights were the worst because the temperature plummeted both outside and inside their wikiup, causing their sleep to be troubled by awakening often and needing to stoke the fire.

And, even though they cuddled with one another throughout the long night, it became obvious: they needed food, as well as a warmer blanket.

On this day in early winter, morning dawned, ushering in a clear and bright blue sky, as well as a slightly warmer temperature. And, as Liliann and First Rider sat together before their cozy lodge fire, they were comfortably warm, their arms wrapped around one another.

Indeed, the magic of their love kept them warm…at least until the early hours of the morning. And, because their future life together was an unknown factor, they made love each night, both knowing there might be no future for them.

But, Liliann was haunted by the dream which always ended in the same terrible way. Alas, it caused her to face the idea of a life without First Rider, and, oh, how dark and bleak such a life would be.

As Liliann sat beside First Rider with their feet and legs toward the fire, he leaned in toward her and murmured, "Sunshine, blue sky and no wind means we should seek the white mountain goat this day."

She hesitated before asking, "Must we?"

He chuckled, then said, "I think we both might like to fill our stomachs, and though the meat of the white moutain goat is not as good as the buffalo, their hides are even warmer than the buffalo."

"But, the snow be so deep, how can we hunt this white mountain goat?"

"We must make the owáá, egg-shoe."

"The egg-shoe?"

"The shape-of-the-egg shoe," he answered. Then he explained, "Shoe to walk on snow."

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "The snowshoe."

He nodded, saying, "Egg-shoe."

They set to work at once. Gathering branches of the birch tree from outside, they used these to construct the base of the shoe; strips of hide tied the branches together.

Although it took some strength to bind the strips of hide to the base formed by the birch branches, First Rider helped Liliann to secure them in place.

But, when done, Liliann realized these shoes appeared to look more like square shoes than eggs.

Odd-looking as their egg-shoes were, these shoes kept the weight of their bodies on the surface of the snow, and though clumsy at first, both she and First Rider set out to check their snares, hoping to find some kind of meat to appease their stomachs.

Two of the snares produced a rabbit, and Liliann watched as First Rider prayed over their kills before skinning and butchering them.

Retracing their steps to their sanctuary, they soon were enjoying the fresh meat of roasted rabbit. Chewing on a bite of the food, Liliann looked up toward the entrance of their wikiup, admiring First Rider's handiwork.

Because the nights had become so cold and the winds had whipped in through the opening of their shelter, First Rider had, a few days ago, added an entryway into the interior of their refuge, and by placing a hide over the entrance and slanting it slightly inward, it had kept the wind out and the warmth in.

First Rider had also opened up the poles at the top of the structure to allow smoke from their fires to better rise up through it and into the air outside, thus obtaining a relatively smoke-free interior. And, all this he had accomplished without the tools so necessary in her own culture.

Glancing sideways at First Rider, she asked, "Be we still plannin' to hunt the white mountain goat this very day?"

He nodded. "It still early in day. Need meat and very warm blanket."

Frowning, she asked, "Why be there no buffalo in these mountains?"

"Because Backbone Mountains are…barrier to them. They climb hills, but they love grassy plains where they…can run…wander as they will. This side…mountain has no buffalo. It why enemies come onto Pikuni land…steal horses, kill buffalo, then try…sneak away. Why you ask?"

"Well, I be thinkin' a good buffalo robe would keep thee and me from shiverin' at night and havin' to get up and down and stoke the fire. Now, if we could get a buffalo robe, it might be warmer than a sheep's fur and hide."

"White mountain goat hide warmer than buffalo."

"Oh?"

"It true. We get hide of goat…tan hide, it make us good bed…very warm. Now, we finish smoking rabbit meat, put away. Then we go find white mountain goat. Meat musky. But, good for few days. Let us hurry…finish here. Then we…take egg-shoes, climb mountain…this day."

"Very well," she answered, and set to work to slowly cook the rabbit meat by using a hole in the ground, some water, some very hot rocks and a hide, which lined the hole as well as acted as a lid.

It was a very old way of slow cooking meat, but it worked well and was delicious when done.

Plus, when they returned, she could roast the meat quickly over the fire for a fast and easy meal.

She accomplished it all quickly, and when they left to hunt the white mountain goat, the sun had only climbed a little into the sky over the eastern part of the Backbone Mountains. Indeed, it was time to go hunting.

****

First Rider stopped in his tracks to point out a moving white body on the side of another mountain which was, perhaps, a kilometer away. Though the snow was deep here where they were climbing, their snowshoes kept them safely atop the height of it.

Looking in the direction he was indicating, she could see the tracks of an animal and realized it had to be the white mountain goat. After all, what other animal would dare live in the height of these mountains?

Looking a little higher up the moutain, she could see an ice field, its dirty and greenish water glistening under the sun.

She had never before seen a glacier nor an ice field, and for a moment she was surprised by the crystal-like green of its appearance as well as by the terrific amount of debris within it.

But, First Rider was urging her onward. And, when at last they came to a ledge on the mountain they were climbing, she stopped behind First Rider and peered over his shoulder to where he was pointing.

There, ahead of him and up on a mountain adjacent to the one they were climbing, were goats, seen only when they shifted position, they being the same color as the snow.

However, it was severely cold where they were now standing, even though no wind blew here. Indeed, so cold was it, she saw First Rider shivering almost as much as she.

"We will go there," he said simply. "Must descend this mountain so we can climb…one where the goats are. Way not far now."