The child bounded onto the bed, landing on all fours, her round face wreathed in a smile. "
"
"What is your name?" Hunter translated, tousling the imp's hair as he hunkered beside the bed. "Loh-rhett-ah, eh? , Blue Eyes." To Loretta, he said, "Warrior's daughter, , Blackbird."
Blackbird giggled and glanced at her grandmother, who stood watching from across the room. "Loh-rhett-ah!"
Loretta scooted toward the head of the bed to press her back against the taut leather wall. The little girl followed, reaching out with a small brown hand to lightly touch the flounces on Loretta's bloomers. Loretta stared at her. At last, a Comanche she didn't detest on sight. She was tempted to grab hold of her and never let go. Loretta guessed her to be about three years old, possibly four.
While Blackbird satisfied her curiosity about Loretta and examined her form head to toe, Hunter carried on an unintelligible conversation with his mother. From the gestures he made, Loretta guessed he was relating that his captive refused to eat or drink and that her voice had returned. A look of concern flashed across the older woman's dark face. Hunter rose and thumped the heel of his hand against his forehead, rolling his eyes toward the smoke hole above the firepit.
"
" Woman with Many Robes crossed the packed grass-and-dirt floor and leaned forward to peer at Loretta. After babbling shrilly for several seconds, all the while waving her spoon, she crooned, "
," and placed a gentle hand on Loretta's hair. "My mother says the poor little one must have no fear."
Woman with Many Robes cast her son a suspicious glance. When it became apparent that he planned to say no more, she brandished her spoon at him.
With great reluctance he cleared his throat, eyed the people crowding the doorway, and said, in a very low voice, "You will have no fear of me, eh? If I lift my hand against you, I will be a , a bald head, and she will thump me with her spoon." He hesitated and looked as if he found it difficult not to smile. "She will make the great , battle, with me. And in the end, she will win. She is one mean woman.
"
"What is your name?" Hunter translated, tousling the imp's hair as he hunkered beside the bed. "Loh-rhett-ah, eh? , Blue Eyes." To Loretta, he said, "Warrior's daughter, , Blackbird."
Blackbird giggled and glanced at her grandmother, who stood watching from across the room. "Loh-rhett-ah!"
Loretta scooted toward the head of the bed to press her back against the taut leather wall. The little girl followed, reaching out with a small brown hand to lightly touch the flounces on Loretta's bloomers. Loretta stared at her. At last, a Comanche she didn't detest on sight. She was tempted to grab hold of her and never let go. Loretta guessed her to be about three years old, possibly four.
While Blackbird satisfied her curiosity about Loretta and examined her form head to toe, Hunter carried on an unintelligible conversation with his mother. From the gestures he made, Loretta guessed he was relating that his captive refused to eat or drink and that her voice had returned. A look of concern flashed across the older woman's dark face. Hunter rose and thumped the heel of his hand against his forehead, rolling his eyes toward the smoke hole above the firepit.
"
" Woman with Many Robes crossed the packed grass-and-dirt floor and leaned forward to peer at Loretta. After babbling shrilly for several seconds, all the while waving her spoon, she crooned, "
," and placed a gentle hand on Loretta's hair. "My mother says the poor little one must have no fear."
Woman with Many Robes cast her son a suspicious glance. When it became apparent that he planned to say no more, she brandished her spoon at him.
With great reluctance he cleared his throat, eyed the people crowding the doorway, and said, in a very low voice, "You will have no fear of me, eh? If I lift my hand against you, I will be a , a bald head, and she will thump me with her spoon." He hesitated and looked as if he found it difficult not to smile. "She will make the great , battle, with me. And in the end, she will win. She is one mean woman.
( Catherine Anderson )
[ Comanche Moon ]
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