Page 10 of Red Hawk's Woman

Red Hawk had no conception of what the words meant that she spoke, or even if those words were part of a language. Was she singing? She might be; her voice was that beautiful.

Looking up at her, for he had yet to arise, he voiced, “Oki,” deciding that it was best to greet her politely.

She frowned, clearly not educated in the great language of his people.

“Who are you?” she repeated. However, since he didn’t understand her, and vice versa, he used sign language to help impart his meaning.

Yet, even in this, a most basic form of communication, she appeared to be adrift, for she continued to frown at him. Obviously, she did not understand him or what he said. The scowl on her face lasted but a moment, as though it were unable to take permanent hold on one so bright and cheery, and very soon the grimace had transformed into an easy smile.

Maybe that was his undoing. The grin. It was said that there were people whose faces glowed when they smiled, as though lit from within with magic.

She might be such a one, for when Red Hawk looked into her eyes, he thought that surely he had eaten something bad this day. His innards were awash in butterflies.

“Well, no matter who you are,” said the girl after a while, “would you like to swim with me?” She bestowed upon him yet another of those beguiling grins.

He froze, gaping. He knew of nothing else to do but stare at her.

When he didn’t respond to her question at once, she made hand motions at him, giving him to understand that she was about to fly into the air…or at least that was what he thought she said.

Was she a goddess, then?

He frowned at her, and she giggled, and with a single hand motion, she invited him to join her. Then, as quick as all that, she slipped into the water.

Was he to follow? Was she a water being after all?

Blackfeet legends told of such beings. There were said to be nymphs, sometimes monsters, who were sent from the water’s depths only to lure a man to his death.

Perhaps she was such a one. Mayhap he should use caution.

Red Hawk, however, ignored any prudence. He was curious about her because she was…different. Besides, though he was only twelve winters old, at this moment he felt very much the male of the species.

With nary a thought for personal danger, he followed the girl into the water. If she were a siren leading him to his death, why would some men fear it?

But she wasn’t about death, he soon came to understand. She was about playing…and fun. And there was no great need to translate languages when the object of the game was to decide who was “it.”

“Catch me,” she said, as she tagged him with the slightest brush of her hand. She dove underwater, then he followed her, letting her take the lead.

She is not a fish, he saw at last, as he opened his eyes underwater. Nor is she a siren, or a goddess.

She swam by use of hands and legs, not fins. What he had thought might have been scales from her waist down were nothing more than the ugliest sort of leggings he had ever seen.

Why would a girl swim in such things? And with her footgear still on? He was dressed only in his breechcloth.

Catching up with her, he tagged her.

Still underwater, she spun around, and though they were both beneath the surface, she smiled at him. Then, as quick as that, she lunged toward him, her arm extended.

He backed up, but his heart wasn’t into retreating from her, and he let her touch him. Her hand was soft, delicate, and he was pondering the experience, when all at once she struck out, away from him.

They both surfaced.

“I am the better swimmer of the two of us,” she taunted him, before she giggled. Though Red Hawk couldn’t discern the words, her meaning was clear. She was playing to win.

He realized his mistake at once. If he were to earn her respect, he would have to prevail in this game. However, he was wise enough to realize that he best not shove defeat at her too soon. Saa, he would need to win this game with her blessing and goodwill. Not an easy feat for a boy of twelve.

“Kika, wait,” he called out in the Blackfeet tongue. “Poohsapoot, come here! Let us define this game.”

She paid him no heed, and not because she didn’t understand him, language barrier or not.