Daughter of the Eagle (4 page)

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Authors: Don Coldsmith

BOOK: Daughter of the Eagle
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Eagle Woman was
furious. The entire encampment was aware of her wrath.
There had been a gasp from the onlookers as Long Walker made his formal statement. No one could remember the last time the Challenge had been used. Many did not even know the meaning. Even Eagle Woman was not certain.
She felt that she had been betrayed. At the height of her triumph, her achievement had been destroyed. Worst of all, it had been done by her friend. Surely it could never be the same. She could never again feel toward Walker as she had come to feel in the past few moons. He had destroyed their closeness.
It had been announced by Standing Bird that the Challenge would take place on the following day, with the agreement of the two principals involved. Both had nodded assent, and the induction of the other aspiring warriors had proceeded. Eagle Woman stood, embarrassed, shamed, alone, smoldering with anger.
She understood only vaguely the use of the Challenge.
She would be expected to compete in warrior skills, but beyond that she knew very little. It seemed an eternity until the ceremonies were over and she could leave the area. There were many who had spoken to her with words of encouragement and confidence.
Long Walker avoided her as the People dispersed into the night to return to their own lodges. She was furious, but also disappointed. How differently the evening had ended from the way she had planned. She had envisioned a warm congratulation from her friend, then a quiet walk along the river in the pleasant moonlight. She would have told him of her plans, and there might have been a soft embrace. Now it was gone, destroyed. She saw the young man slipping away and hurried after him.
“Walker!” she called.
Unable to escape without a loss of dignity, Long Walker stopped and turned to meet the onslaught of the irate girl. Her anger rose like a flash flood in a prairie stream as she strode toward him. By the time she faced him, Eagle Woman's wrath was ready to overflow its banks.
“What are you doing?” She almost shouted at him. Then, not waiting for an answer, the girl continued.
“Walker, you know I have met the requirements. I have made my buffalo kills. I have as much right in the Elk-dog Society as you!” Her voice became shrill and tight, rising in pitch with her emotions.
“What are you trying to do to me?”
For the first time since the tirade began, she paused long enough for Long Walker to answer. Even so, he was not ready. There was a long moment while he attempted to clear the lump in his throat. He saw the sparkle of tears on her cheeks in the moonlight, tears of sheer frustration.
“Why, Walker, why?” she insisted.
The young man gulped again and finally found words. “Because. Someone has to save you from yourself.”
“Son of a snake,” she spat at him, “you will have to save yourself from me! I will beat you at the Challenge!”
She whirled and stalked away, leaving the dejected young
man alone in the moonlight.
Aiee
, he thought, the world is turning to dung. Sadly he turned toward the river, to walk and to think.
 
Eagle Woman sought out her father back at their own lodge. She must find out exactly what the Challenge implied.
“It is a series of contests,” Eagle explained. “He will choose one, then you. There may be two, or several more, until one or the other is clearly the winner.”
“He chooses the first?”
“Yes, then you choose.”
She knew what the first choice of Long Walker would be. He had always been adept with the lance. Eagle Woman had learned its use but had never preferred the weapon. It was too heavy and cumbersome. She had concentrated on the bow. Ah, that would be her choice when the time came. She sought her robes, knowing full well she would sleep little this night. In her smoldering anger she hoped that Long Walker would sleep poorly, too.
 
Sun Boy rose and lighted his torch, and its rays shone down on the camp of the People. They were stirring early this day, the area buzzing with excitement.
Standing Bird, as leader of the Elk-dog Society, would be in charge of the contests. The challenger had chosen the lance as the first trial, and young men were scattered up the slope to the top of the hill placing the target hoops.
These circles of willow were a hand's span in diameter, hung from the twigs of the sumac or dogwood which dotted the slope. The horsemen would charge up the hill, threading on the lance as many targets as possible. The one bringing more rings back to the starting point would be the winner.
Eagle Woman placed her saddle pad on Gray Cat and tightened the girth. She felt that there was a good chance that she might be able to compete at this. Gray Cat was quick and agile and could maneuver well on the tricky footing of the slope.
The girl swung to the mare's back, and Bobcat handed
her a lance. He gave an encouraging smile. Eagle Woman wished that her brother would take this contest more seriously. He was being helpful, but his mischievous glance said that he thought the entire matter somewhat amusing.
Standing Bird was speaking now, holding a fist-sized stone at arm's length. “When the stone drops, begin!”
Eagle Woman glanced over at Long Walker, who was just swinging to his horse's back. They had not spoken this morning. There was a hard knot in her stomach, a sour taste in her mouth. This was all wrong. The two should be riding off together as friends.
Walker's horse bolted forward, and the girl realized that Standing Bird had dropped the signal stone. She had been preoccupied with her thoughts. Cursing silently, she dug heels into the startled mare's flanks, and the animal leaped after the other horse.
Long Walker had already threaded the first target and raised his lance point. The ring slid down the weapon's shaft, and he caught it with his right hand, lowering the point again as he approached the next hoop.
Frantically Eagle Woman pursued. She must reach some of the targets before the other horseman. So far she had not even had an opportunity to try for a score.
She glanced ahead. Some of the young men had fanned out to the left, and she saw the white rings of peeled willow against green foliage in that direction, too. She reined the mare to the left. She must ignore Walker's successes and concentrate on her own. The lance neatly passed through the first ring, and she kneed the horse toward the next.
By this time the animal had realized the purpose of the game. Quick as a heartbeat, the well-trained mare changed flying front feet and shifted the angle of motion toward the next hoop. It was hanging at a difficult angle, but the girl skillfully centered the target and slid it up to join the others. She wondered how Long Walker was doing but dared not stop to look.
The next target was easy, and the next also. She paused to glance over at Long Walker, while the mare scrambled
over a rocky ledge toward a nearby clump of sumac with white target rings in evidence. She speared another, and as she lifted the lance she realized how tired her right arm was becoming. The weapon was growing heavier with each motion, and it seemed she could not hold it steady while she concentrated on the white hoop ahead. Still she managed to lift the point at the last moment to enter the dangling ring.
There were no more targets above her now, and she swung back toward where Long Walker had zigzagged up the slope. One ring still hung on a scrubby bush between them, and she kicked the gray mare forward. She was nearer the target, but the other saw it at almost the same moment.
Eagle Woman lunged forward, readying the lance. Her shoulder muscles ached from the exertion, her right arm seemed wooden from the elbow down. If she could only lift the lance point to impale this one last target. It had become symbolic of the contest.
The girl gritted her teeth and tried to ignore the pain of aching muscles as she concentrated on the run. Carefully she bore down on the target ring, moved the point of the weapon slightly for greater accuracy, and rushed past the bush. To her consternation there was no white willow loop hanging on the lance shaft as she raised it. She had missed.
She wheeled the horse for another run, trying to ignore the drumming of hooves behind her. Walker's horse was gaining, but she saw that she would reach the target first.
She had lifted the lance upright, but she now lowered the point for another run. This time she would not miss. A new surge of determination gave her momentum, and the lance sped straight toward the ring.
Eagle Woman was never sure later whether Walker's next action was deliberate or not. She never asked him. For now she only knew that Gray Cat stumbled, scrambled for footing, and swept past the target out of reach. At the same moment the girl realized the reason for the stumble. The gray mare had been jostled aside by the larger horse.
Long Walker, now almost at leisure, speared the dangling
ring and turned his horse at a walk to the starting point. The crowd was cheering, and people were already beginning to pay off side bets.
Furious and frustrated, Eagle Woman followed. She elected to say nothing about the jostling.
The two drew their horses up before the waiting Standing Bird, and the girl let her lance point touch the ground. Six willow hoops rattled down the shaft to bounce against each other at the tip.
Long Walker did likewise. Glumly Eagle Woman counted the rattling wooden rings. Seven, eight, nine! Her anger burned with even more resentment.
There had been only fifteen targets on the hillside. Long Walker had not even needed the last ring, the one he had jostled her aside to reach. He had already won.
Eagle Woman was
not concerned with her ability to best the challenger at the next event. She was confident that her ability with the bow was superior. When she announced her choice for the contest, the expression on Long Walker's face said that he believed so, too. The girl had always bested him in the use of this weapon.
Though she was confident, Eagle Woman looked farther ahead and despaired. A win with the bow would only bring the contestants even again, and the next choice was Long Walker's.
Aiee
, there were many things at which he excelled. Which would he choose? Even so, she must take one step at a time. The first was the trial with bow and arrows.
This test would be on foot. Already two young men were placing the stuffed-skin target at a distance of fifty paces. In the center of its surface, Standing Bird had painted a black spot the size of a hand's span. Each of the contestants would use three arrows, shooting alternately. If there was no clear winner, they would continue to shoot in turn until Standing Bird declared the contest at an end.
Eagle Woman stepped to the line and assumed the
bowman's stance. The dull-brown target seemed very small at this distance. She could hardly see the black center at all. She had sorted through her arrows, choosing the best and straightest, those with perfect balance. One, which initially appeared superior, was rejected because of a bulky and uneven lashing where the feathers were tied with sinew.
The girl fitted the first shaft to the bowstring and drew the arrow to its head. The release felt satisfactory, and the missile was on its way. A shout went up from the group of spectators near the target, and one of the young men signaled the result. The feathered shaft was a hand's span to the right of the black center.
Irritated, Eagle Woman stepped back. She must allow more carefully for the wind. The light breeze from the south was pushing gently at the flying arrow, bending its course a trifle to the north.
Long Walker, with the advantage of having observed the initial shot, stepped confidently forward. Also, his stronger bow would throw the arrow faster, causing less deflection by the wind. Eagle Woman watched closely. Perhaps he would overcorrect.
Apparently this was exactly what happened. Long Walker's confidence seemed shattered as the result was shouted back. His arrow rested a hand's span left of the mark.
Eagle Woman stepped forward again. She had studied the wind as it stirred the grasses to the left of the target. The breeze was light and shifting, at times almost dying. She could use these observations. It was a matter of timing.
Carefully she watched, waiting until the ripple of the grass was stilled for a few heartbeats. Then, at the precisely proper moment, the girl drew and released her arrow. The release was smooth, and she knew before the shaft struck that it had flown true. Again a cheer went up from the observers. The feathered end protruded from the black spot.
Long Walker's next arrow went wild, nearly missing the skin target altogether. Such things happened. A slightly imperfect
shaft, a defective feather, a puff of breeze, or perhaps even a poor release. Some of the spectators jumped in mock alarm and moved back from the area of the target. Long Walker smiled good-naturedly and waved to the laughing crowd.
The girl readied her last arrow. The contest was as good as won now. If she could hit the skin at all, Walker must place his arrow in the black center to even equal her effort.
Perhaps she was overconfident, not paying enough attention to the breeze. It would be easy to blame a defective arrow. Whatever the reason, Eagle Woman knew at the moment of release that her contest was in trouble. Helpless, she watched the misguided shaft fly with agonizing slowness across the flat of the meadow. Missing the grass-stuffed target entirely, the arrow struck the ground beyond, bounced, and leaped to shatter itself against the stony outcrop on the hillside.
A subdued moan came from the spectators, with an occasional joyful chuckle from those who had bets on Long Walker. Now the day had suddenly turned.
Long Walker now had only to hit the skin target to win. Amused, smiling, the young man stepped to the line and carefully readied his arrow.
Why doesn't he go ahead, the dejected Eagle Woman fumed. He had won, had proved his contention. Now he had only to shoot, to finish the contest. She would be relieved, actually, to have the thing over, to return to normal living. Unfortunately that could never really happen. Her life could never be the same again. Worst of all, her friendship with Long Walker had been shattered, leaving a puzzling sense of emptiness and loss.
The girl wished to turn away, to leave the scene of the contest, but pride held her. She must watch Long Walker make his last shot, and then it would be over. The young man drew the arrow to its flint point, and the string twanged as he released his hold. The arrow sped on its way, and Eagle Woman started to turn away with a heavy heart.
Suddenly there were shouts of shocked surprise from the
group of spectators near the target. Eagle Woman turned quickly, in time to see Walker's arrow skipping and bouncing on the hillside. Long Walker had missed!
The surprised shouts blended into a sort of cheer from the supporters of Eagle Woman. Disgruntled losers at wagering were glumly beginning to pay off their bets before the girl realized the importance of this last shot. Her first two shots had been better than Walker's, and both had missed on the third. She had won the contest.
Close on the heels of the thought came another. Surely Long Walker could have easily hit the skin target if he had wished. Was it possible that he had intentionally missed to allow her to save face?
The thought became a worrisome thing. If it were true, Eagle Woman did not know whether to love or hate him for it.
In actual fact, however, she was never to know whether the miss was intentional or not.

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