The Wild Spirit Beyond the Cloud
Prologue
April 1782
Three weeks.
It had been three weeks of rain. Endless rain. Pounding rain. Chota was flooded. The children were upset, tired; the hunters and the younger men were restless. The women were exhausted from trying to quiet the children. The lodges were soaked and the families had moved into the long house. Even the wood supply was wet and the smoke made the babies cry constantly.
Mingo lifted the skins that served as a door and peered out. The world reeked of wetness and humidity. The clouds were low, gray and heavy. There was mud and rivulets of water all around the village. Three lodges, including Mingo's, had collapsed quickly during the first week of rain. Four more went down the following week. Only the unmarried men used the remaining dry lodges to sleep at night. Mingo sighed. Lowering the skins, he went back inside and looked upon his people.
Bright Rainbow came to him with a slightly moldy piece of bannock; there was no more honey. "Won't you eat a little, Mingo, my friend? You've been hunting with the warriors day after day in this rain. You must keep up your strength, friend of my husband." Rain Cloud had not come back yet. He, along with three other men had left the village nine days ago. They had decided to hunt south, hoping for fresh meat after the very long winter.
"What about your children and yourself, Bright Rainbow?" Mingo asked, knowing many were suffering from a deep hunger. The women had no more dried vegetables from last autumn; they were unable to plant for the coming summer and the reserves of the winter were gone.
"Do not worry, Mingo. I have fed my little ones. And we will leave the meat for the smaller children. There are some vegetables left. The wise women will make soup tonight." Rain Cloud's wife was a beautiful woman; she was tall, her hair dark and her eyes bright with a joy for life. She worked hard, as did all the women in the village, but it never deterred her joy or her sunny disposition. She would not let the rain and this painful beginning of spring plunge her into sadness and despair. "Eat first, Mingo. There is plenty of water. I will boil some for your needs. Little Oak's lodge is warm and clean. You'll be able to wash and you'll feel the tiredness leaving your body. Eat, my friend." Bright Rainbow pushed the lump of bread into his hands.
Mingo had come back just a few hours ago; he had been gone for a week. He was exhausted, dirty and, truth be told, very hungry. As he sat down with two other exhausted warriors near a warm fire, the smoke caused his eyes to tear. He chewed slowly on the large piece of bannock she had given him. Warm and fed at last, he felt himself slipping into sleep, dirty as he was.
April 1757
Fog. Endless fog. Dampness, rain and interminable fog. Christopher needed fresh air, the woods and the feel of a knife in his hand. He needed to feel the exhilaration of capturing his own meal. He might be allowed o spend the summer on the estate in Wales, if he managed to get high marks and guarantee his father the chance to impress his peers. In Wales, Christopher could hunt to his heart's content, although not quite in the manner he kept dreaming of. Gentlemen must remain gentlemen at all times, after all. Still, the idea of Wales was enough to make Christopher turn his back to the fog outside the French doors of his Father's London's study and face the large oak desk where his homework was laid. His tutor would arrive shortly. If Christopher couldn't show any improvement in his Latin composition, he would be deprived of his summer and he needed his summer in Wales; so he set himself to deciphering this strange tongue.
Christopher was 17 years old; his manners were impeccable, his diction nearly flawless. His tutor had gained Lord Dunsmore's respect rapidly. It had only taken two years for the boy to master the clipped English required of his rank. Christopher had worked hard with his close friend Henry and together the two lads had managed it. They were constantly cheering each other on, helping and relying upon each other.
They would return to Oxford after the summer in Wales. They both had a week away from their old university: a time to catch up on Latin but mostly a time to attend some of London most interesting salons. The young gentlemen of Oxford needed to forge acquaintances in their world, as much as they need to attain all of academia goal.At least, there was a few moment of pleasure to be taken in London.
The next few weeks would burden them both with exams and strict lectures.
In the following fall, Christopher and Henry were going to board in the same room. That would help ease Christopher's pain.