Woman

Previously:

The Blackfoot and Crow tribes are introduced.

Chapter 26

I lived with a Crow woman named Watchacowacaga or something like that. She was always trying to tell me what it was, but each time she said it, I heard it different. Finally, she gave up and I called her Woman.

It didn't really matter. She never listened to me, but she kept me warm at night and satisfied my needs. I grew to like her. If I had stayed in Montana, I suppose I would still be with her. She was a good woman.

I don't have to tell you Woman had black hair and dark haunting eyes. You've seen Indian women before. She seemed to know things that other people didn't. Some Indians have this ability. She would stare into the distance, and say, “Soon, it will come. Things will be different.” As time went on, I understood what she saw in those hills. The Indian way would fade and the white man would rule over the plain. I was the only white man she had ever seen, but somehow she knew more were coming.

Woman was a good lover. Sometimes after making love, I scratched her butt.

“Why does it feel so good to get your butt scratched?” she asked.

“Because only a lover will do it,” I answered.

She poked me in the chest and said, “Lover.”

I slapped her rump and said, “Butt.” This is how she learned English.

Woman was as fine a lady as any man could want. Like most Indians, she didn't talk too much. I never could tolerate a woman, or a man for that matter, who talked too much. Pat Sullivan could talk the wings off a mosquito. Some people ought to learn to be quiet, especially, when fellas are trying to sleep.

Grady Smith shot Pat because he wouldn't shut up. When they hung Grady, they asked if he had any last words. He said, “I'd do it again.” Some cowboys thought they should have given him a medal.

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One time, the Indians invited me to go on a raid with them, but I turned the offer down. The Chippewa was a fierce tribe in the east, but the ones who migrated west were not so troublesome. There were fewer of them and they mostly stayed to themselves. They were an easy target for the Crow looking for wives. I didn't have a bone to pick with the Chippewa, and I didn't see any need to start one.

Indians don't hide their feelings. If they have a problem with you, they will tell you straight out, sometimes, during a pow-wow. My refusal to fight the Chippewa didn't sit right with the tribe. They held a pow-wow and told me I had insulted them. To make amends, I told them that the Chippewa had befriended me and I didn't want to go to war with them, but if they wanted to fight the Apache I would ride with them. This changed their mood. They didn't want to tangle with Apache.

The Montana Indians weren't like the Arapaho. They were always interested in fighting someone, as long as it wasn't the Apache they didn't care who. They just wanted to fight. They always had a beef with somebody. That's why I left Montana. I figured that sooner or later, they would want to fight me, and there were a whole lot more of them than there was of me.

It's funny how different one tribe of Indians is from another tribe. I never thought of it before, but I guess white folks are the same way. Don't ever make the mistake of comparing a Texan with somebody from Oklahoma. Men have been shot for less.

I stayed in Montana for a year. One day, an Indian looked at me funny. I took the hint and left. Years later, I heard that Montana was full of white people. Finally, the Indians had somebody who liked to fight as much as they did.

To be continued . . .