Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman. The rights to those characters and to the show belong to the creators of the show, to CBS and The Sullivan Company.
No Greater Burden
Chapter Ten
Night Crane sat on the ground piecing leather into a moccasin. She chose a shady spot under a cottonwood tree to escape the scorching heat of the midday sun. Working with skins always relaxed her. Like her mother before her, Night Crane had been raised as part of the quilling society; women who worked with quills to ceremonially decorate robes, lodges, and clothing. In her village, it had been among the most revered skills a woman could possess. Unfortunately, as the number of porcupines declined, it had been many years since she found enough actual quills to work with.
These days, her ornamentations relied mainly on thread and beads. Without looking down, her hands found their way around the skin with artful precision. Her eyes moved back and forth between her baby lying contently beside her and her older son playing with the two white children, but never toward her hands.
Michaela approached Night Crane with her medical bag in her hand. "I'd like to examine New Promise now, if I may."
Her concentration broken, Night Crane looked up at Michaela. "He is fine," she replied, disturbed by the interruption of this rare quiet time.
"I'm delighted he's better, but I still need to examine him," she persisted.
After a moment's hesitation, Night Crane agreed.
"Thank you." Michaela knelt down to check the baby's temperature. She held the stethoscope to his chest to monitor his breathing. After several moments, she looked at Night Crane with a smile on her face. "New Promise has recovered nicely. His fever is gone, his lungs are clear, and his color has returned to normal."
Night Crane met the doctor's eyes. "We are grateful for your help."
"I'm glad I was able to help." Michaela paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. "I hardly know how to thank you for what your family did for Josef. If Running Wolf hadn't found him…" She stared down at the ground unable to complete the sentence.
Night Crane placed her hand atop Michaela's in a gesture of understanding. "Both of our children are safe and well now."
Michaela raised her head. "Yes, they are."
The women sat in uncomfortable silence for a few moments watching the children play, neither of them sure of what to say next.
"Your youngest son is weighed down by something," Night Crane observed, concerned.
"Josef?"
"Yes," she replied, her eyes still focused on the children. "When he was at our camp, after Running Wolf found him, his eyes betrayed a burden too great for one so young." She turned to face Michaela. "I see the same look in his eyes today."
"Getting lost was very frightening for him," Michaela explained.
"I am certain it was, but there is more."
Michaela was irritated that this woman she barely knew presumed to know something about her son that she didn't, but nonetheless, she felt compelled to offer an explanation. "Right before he got lost, our family pet, Wolf, died. Josef took it especially hard. I believe he still misses him."
"That may be it," Night Crane answered, doubt in her voice.
Michaela looked toward Josef and back toward Night Crane wondering if there was something she had missed. She quickly dismissed the idea. As his mother, no one is more aware of Josef than I am. Still, Night Crane's comment bothered her and she continued to stare in her son's direction with concern.
Dorothy approached the two women. "Mind if I join you?"
Michaela diverted her eyes from Josef to smile up at her friend. "Of course not. Please have a seat." She had spoken without knowing how Night Crane felt about Dorothy joining them. Turning toward the young woman, she said, "That is, if you don't mind."
"I don't mind," Night Crane told Dorothy, having no gracious way to avoid the additional intrusion.
"Thank you." Dorothy joined the two women on the ground. Immediately, she noticed the moccasin in Night Crane's hand. "You do beautiful work. It's so intricate."
Michaela noticed the beadwork for the first time. "Yes, it's lovely. Where did you learn to do that?"
"My mother and my grandmother," Night Crane replied simply.
Night Crane was a difficult woman to get to know. Michaela wanted to ask her more questions about her background, but she appeared to be a private person, who shared only what was necessary. If Michaela considered what she had likely been through in her life, she couldn't blame her for not trusting easily. When she was with Night Crane, Michaela couldn't help thinking about Snow Bird and how important their friendship was to her. She hoped she could get to know Night Crane better during this trip.
To ease Night Crane's discomfort, Michaela steered the conversation in another direction. "Dorothy, did you finish your writing for today?"
"Writing?" Night Crane asked.
Dorothy shifted to face the young woman. "I'm a journalist back home. I'm writing about this trip, about all the places we've been, how the scenery is changing and I'll write about the reservation when we get there. I try to write some every day."
"Dorothy runs the Gazette," Michaela added. "It's the only newspaper in Colorado Springs."
Night Crane set aside her work and shifted uncomfortably.
Dorothy noticed the woman's unease. "Oh, you don't have to worry. I'm not writing about you. I know how unsafe it is for you and your family to be off the reservation. I wouldn't do anything to put your family in danger."
Night Crane gave her a faint smile. "Thank you."
"How is New Promise? He's so quiet, I almost didn't know he was here," Dorothy said, looking down at the baby.
"Dr. Mike tells me he is completely well. I am grateful for your concern." She picked up the moccasin and resumed her work as a brief silence fell among the women. "Running Wolf will want us to find our own way to the reservation soon. Is New Promise well enough for us to be on our way?"
"Yes, he is, but I wish you would reconsider and accompany our family. It will be safer for all of us if we travel together. Besides, I'd welcome the company," Michaela urged.
"My husband will want us to find our own way."
"What would you prefer?" Dorothy asked, her tone more challenging than she intended.
"It is not my place to question his decisions."
"Surely, he takes your opinions into consideration," Michaela questioned.
Night Crane didn't care for the forward ways of the lady doctor or the journalist. "He does."
Michaela grew quiet, not wanting to offend a woman she hardly knew. Her eyes glanced in the direction of the children. "The children are getting along so well. It would be nice if they could continue to play together. I know Katie and Josef would enjoy having another child to play with."
Night Crane had noticed how friendly the Sully children had been to her son. Their acceptance of him was different from most children he had met. She regretted seeing that end. "Eyes Like the Sky has not had children his own age to play with for some time," she said, staring in the direction of the children.
"How long have you been traveling?" Dorothy asked.
Night Crane paused, unsure about how to respond. "For some time now."
"Where did you live before?" Michaela asked. She noticed Night Crane bristle and her body became rigid. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."
"We were in the north."
"With the Northern Cheyenne?" Dorothy asked, with growing curiosity.
"I have lived many places and with many tribes. It is time now to find my own people."
"Then you are Cheyenne!" Michaela exclaimed.
"Yes."
"I formed many friendships with the Cheyenne people when Black Kettle's village was in Colorado."
Night Crane shifted uncomfortably at the mention of Black Kettle's name.
"I wrote a book about the Cheyenne once. I learned a great deal from your people," Dorothy offered.
"Does your work bring you to the Indian Agency?" Night Crane asked both women.
"No. We're going to visit a dear friend of ours, a Cheyenne medicine man. Cloud Dancing." As she uttered his name, Michaela thought she saw recognition in Night Crane's eyes. "Do you know him?"
"I may have heard of him."
"He lived for a time among the Northern Cheyenne before deciding to make his home in the Cheyenne-Arapaho Indian Agency," Dorothy explained. She longed to ask more questions about Cloud Dancing, but she held back.
"There were many great leaders among my people."
"Yes, there were. I had the honor of knowing Black Kettle. His greatest hope was that your people and mine could live together in peace. I never knew a man who wanted peace more," Michaela said, her voice catching with emotion.
"I shared that hope once. Now, instead of sharing the land in peace, my people are your prisoners. What I fear most, is if the day ever comes when your people realize they should share this vast country and decide to work with us, it will be too late. My people will be full of hate." Night Crane's comment silenced the women. Michaela shared an uncomfortable, but sympathetic glance with Dorothy. Then both women collected their things and excused themselves. Night Crane was left alone with her sewing and her thoughts.
"Mind if we come along?" Sully asked Running Wolf, when he noticed him place his bow over his shoulder. "I was just headin' out with Brian ta get supper." The Indian didn't respond as he continued to rifle through a collection of arrows as if searching for a specific one.
Running Wolf finally found the arrow he was looking for. He placed it in his quiver, along with two others and he turned around. "I prefer to hunt alone," he replied. "Please do not take offense."
"We'll have more luck if we go together," Sully persisted. He was curious about the Indian, and if their families were going to be traveling together, he was determined to find out more about Running Wolf in spite of the Indian's effort to remain apart.
"I will be more successful on my own," Running Wolf countered. He had been looking forward to the solitude of the woods to relax and clear his head of the strain of constantly being on guard around the white family. Moreover, he lacked confidence in this white man's ability to hunt. "If we all go, it will be difficult to remain silent. The animals will scatter when they hear us coming."
Sully's eyes narrowed. "When you were back with your tribe, didn't ya go out huntin' in large groups? I remember some pretty large huntin' parties when I lived with the Cheyenne."
"My people knew how to be quiet," Running Wolf challenged, as he reached for his bow.
A reluctant smile flickered across Sully's face. "So do mine. Trust us."
Trust. The word carried a great weight. Trusting people had been Running Wolf's problem. Throughout much of his life, he had chosen to trust the wrong people. He trusted their promises, played by their rules, and ended up in a prison of shame. Now the only person he trusted completely was his wife. He couldn't afford to let down his guard and trust anyone else. At the same time, he could tell by his dress and manner that Sully seemed to have a genuine appreciation of the ways of the Cheyenne. He even thought he heard him mention having lived among them.
In the time since they began traveling together, Running Wolf felt an irrational trust beginning to form. Still, he needed to be careful. But, if he continued to argue with him, Sully might become suspicious or think him rude. What harm could come from us hunting together? It might be easier to let them accompany me than to continue to protest.
"We will go together," Running Wolf answered reluctantly.
"Good," Sully replied. He turned to collect his bow and arrows and to wave Brian over to them.
From across the campsite, Brian noticed Sully talking to Running Wolf. He was having second thoughts about going hunting. With everything that had happened over the past few days, all his time had been spent supporting his mother and helping his siblings. He hadn't had a moment by himself to think about his own life and what he hoped to do when they returned home. For a little while, he wanted to be alone. There was another reason he thought about staying behind. If he didn't come along, Sully would have more opportunity to get to know the Indian better. But, part of him wanted to go. He was curious to learn more about Running Wolf, too. He headed in Sully's direction weighed down by ambivalence.
"Hey, Pa," Brian began. "I was thinking about staying here. Why don't the two of you go hunting without me?"
"C'mon Brian, let's all go," Sully urged. "With what's happened 'round here, we haven't spent much time together." Brian looked at him a long beat, his brows drawn, deliberating. It's true that he had agreed to go and it was also true that they hadn't had much time together recently. With a quizzical look, Sully registered his uncertainty. "But, it's all right if you'd rather stay."
Brian considered his options for another moment. "No. I'll come," he said, deciding it was best if he went. "Let me get my bow."
The three men rode their horses down a shallow coulee through a stretch of short rolling hills. The dense blanket of low hanging light gray clouds overhead turned the sky a cool shade of silver. Their cover served to keep the summer heat at bay. Though they had all agreed to hunt together, Sully was the only one who truly wanted to be there.
When they reached an area where the animals often came to feed, they each tied their horses to a separate tree and continued the rest of the way on foot. Both Sully and Running Wolf walked side by side, neither one assuming the lead. When Sully slowed his steps to give Brian time to catch up to them, Running Wolf took the lead, guiding the group into the woods. Sully followed close behind, examining the ground as they walked. Brian remained further back, trailing the two of them by several yards. They walked along in silence, quietly studying their surroundings until a western meadowlark broke their concentration with his song. But for their breathing, and the crackle of their shoes on the path, the land was still.
"I think we'll have better luck if we go that way," Sully whispered, breaking the silence as he pointed off to the right.
"No, I do not agree," Running Wolf said. "We will find turkeys in this direction." He pointed the opposite way, confident in his powers of observation and in his knowledge of the habits of the wild creatures of the land.
"How do you know?" Brian asked. "There's no tracks." He had been listening to the conversation, having no opinion about which direction to head.
"It is difficult to find tracks in the long grass," Running Wolf replied, pointing toward the left. "Over here, the grass is bent in a way suggesting a turkey passed through. I believe we will see the tracks as soon as the dirt path resumes."
"There's rabbit over that way. I saw tracks," Sully said, in a more determined voice. "We don't know it was a turkey that bent the grass. It could've been a squirrel."
Running Wolf turned to Brian with a glint in his eye. "What would you rather have for supper? Turkey or rabbit?"
"Turkey," Brian replied, not meaning to take sides. "But, we don't know for sure if they're that way. We know there are rabbits if we go Sully's way."
"I will lead you to a turkey."
Sully wasn't convinced by Running Wolf's confidence. It struck him as stubborn competitiveness rather than genuine knowledge. At the same time, he knew that the Indians had been tracking and hunting on the land for generations. As much as he had learned from the Cheyenne, he knew there was even more he didn't know. "We'll go your way," Sully agreed at last.
Surprise cut through the awkwardness between them. Running Wolf expected Sully to put up more of an argument. He hadn't met many white men who listened to the Indians, who didn't think they knew better. Of course, there was one who valued his skills, but to this day Running Wolf wished he never met him. With Sully, it was different. He wasn't patronizing him and he didn't want anything from him. It seemed he had genuine respect for Indian ways from his years of living with the Cheyenne. As hard as he tried, it was a respect that Running Wolf couldn't deny.
"You won't be disappointed," Running Wolf replied, a slight grin on his face. "Our wives will prepare a turkey feast for us this evening."
Brian snickered under his breath and shared a humorous glance with Sully. For all of their sakes, he hoped that Night Crane was a better cook than his mother. Running Wolf noticed their amused exchange, without understanding the cause. The men started off again in the direction Running Wolf indicated. Once again, Sully walked beside him hoping to engage the Indian in conversation while Brian lagged behind.
Brian was distracted by the confusing thoughts swirling around his head. He had hoped this trip would give him time to think about what he wanted to do with his life. Dorothy was right in her observation that he was restless in Colorado Springs. He wanted to do more than work at the Gazette and submit occasional articles to papers in Denver and back east.
One moment, he wanted to take some time to travel, in order to see new places and learn first-hand about the changes occurring in the country. The next moment, he didn't want to leave Sarah or his family. He wondered how he would make his decision. Dorothy told him to follow his heart. The problem was his heart was in two places. He was looking forward to visiting with Cloud Dancing. Perhaps he could help him decide his path.
The two skilled hunters walked together for a long time without exchanging a word. Sully could sense Running Wolf's discomfort and he assumed that it came from having known no white people apart from the Army soldiers who hunted down his people. If his experience mirrored that of the Cheyenne Sully knew, then it was no wonder he was cautious. Occasionally, Sully would look back at Brian wondering why he kept lagging behind them. After the third time Sully looked back, Brian caught up to them.
"I can hardly keep up with you two," Brian said, joining them. Sully knew that wasn't true, but he let it go. "Have you seen any turkeys yet?" Brian asked, trying to appear natural and engaged.
"Not yet," Sully said, unable to hide the skepticism in his voice.
"It takes patience," Running Wolf replied. He directed his remark at Sully, in response to his challenge. "It is important to only take the male. This is their breeding season. Killing a female might mean taking an entire family along with next years turkeys," he explained, assuming these white men were ignorant of the ways of nature.
Sully bristled at having his knowledge and respect for living creatures questioned. However, he realized he needed to be tolerant of Running Wolf. Most white men he knew would take any turkey they found, without regard to the breeding season. Silence fell upon the group as they walked with their heads down in search of turkey tracks.
"Have you and your family been traveling long?" Brian asked, breaking the silence.
"A while." He was vague.
"I was up in Montana with the Northern Cheyenne almost two years ago. Don't remember seein' you," Sully said.
"I was not there," he said simply, his eyes focused on the ground.
"Were you on another reservation?" Brian persisted.
"We have been many places. Now we choose to live with Night Crane's relatives. It is our desire for New Promise to learn the ways of his Cheyenne grandfathers."
As he listened to his words, Sully confirmed his suspicion that Running Wolf wasn't Cheyenne. He was curious which tribe he was from, but since he hadn't answered any of their other questions, he didn't think he'd tell him. It was common for the tribes to intermarry, especially these days with the tribes mixing on reservations. When they did, it was also customary for the family to join the wife's tribe.
"How is Josef?" Running Wolf asked. It was an attempt to steer the conversation away from him.
"It's been rough on him lately. It'll take time," Sully replied, his eyes still peeled on the ground.
"I have watched him. His spirit is heavy," Running Wolf told him.
"What do you mean?" Brian asked.
Sully continued to walk straight ahead, fully aware of Running Wolf's meaning.
"It is important for him to speak of it. Only by facing his burden will he be able to make it smaller," Running Wolf replied, not knowing whether he was speaking of the boy or himself now.
Sully knew he had spoken the truth. He also suspected that Running Wolf's words reflected deep personal experience with the weight of heavy burdens. As the Indian spoke, Sully thought he recognized a flicker of something familiar in his eyes. It was something haunting and empty, and it reminded Sully of a time he tried to forget. When not on guard, Sully thought he saw his shoulders sag, as if being dragged down. Whatever his burden, it seemed to weigh heavy on his spirit, too.
Brian pondered the Indian's words as he glanced between his father and Running Wolf. It was true that Josef hadn't been himself since getting lost. He was less talkative, irritable at times, and he clung to Katie more than usual. Brian thought his behavior was in reaction to Wolf's death and having gotten lost. Now he began to wonder if something more was affecting him. Even more peculiar was that Sully didn't seem surprised by Running Wolf's observation. He wondered if Sully knew something he didn't.
For Brian, the journalist in him needed to piece together the clues, and the brother in him was concerned for his younger sibling. As soon as he got the chance, he vowed he would speak to his brother. Brian walked along, deep in thought, when he noticed a faint imprint in the dirt.
"Hey, over here," he said, in a hushed tone. "A turkey was here a little while ago."
Sully and Running Wolf hurried over to examine the track. Sully confirmed the track first, feeling both surprised and humbled. "It's a turkey all right."
Running Wolf crouched down to observe the track, running his hand over the imprint in the dirt. "He's a big one, an older one, too, I'd venture."
The three men walked as quietly as possible, through the woods, in pursuit of their supper. Each one had their eyes peeled on the tracks and the surrounding area, looking and listening for any sign of the turkey.
Sully spotted the bird first. He used hand signals to alert the others to the location of the prey. Running Wolf and Brian watched the turkey peacefully eating behind a nearby bush. Sully signaled for Running Wolf to take the bird. The Indian was moved by Sully's show of respect. It was an unwritten rule among hunters for the person who first spotted the prey to take it. By that rule, it should have been Sully's bird. But, Sully knew they would be eating rabbit for supper if he had prevailed. In all respects, it was Running Wolf's turkey.
As Running Wolf readied his bow, the crack of a twig startled the bird causing him to look around in distress. The three of them held their breath, fearing he would run. Hearing no other sound, the turkey returned to his meal. Running Wolf placed an arrow in his bow, aimed, and let go. He hit it in one smooth motion. Then all three of them ran toward the dead bird to collect their supper.
Sully was the first to congratulate him with a pat on the back. "Good job."
"He's a big one," Brian said, impressed.
"We make a good team," Running Wolf said sincerely, before swinging the bird over his shoulder. The three men then headed back to camp just as the sun was about to pull the curtains on the day.
For the first time since they had agreed to travel together, both families were seated around the campfire. The atmosphere was relaxed as they all enjoyed a delicious supper.
"Mmm…, the turkey's real good Michaela," Sully said, taking another bite of food.
"Thank you," she replied. "But, most of the credit belongs to Night Crane. She seasoned it and made sure I didn't overcook it."
Sully nodded his approval in the direction of the younger woman, and he received a small smile in return.
"Which one of you do we have to thank for bringing back such a large bird," Night Crane asked, flashing a knowing smile at her husband.
"It was a team effort," Running Wolf replied, reaching for her hand and squeezing it.
"Running Wolf got it," Brian supplied, moved by the bond he saw between the couple.
"But, you were the first one to spot the tracks," he amended.
Sully listened, impressed by Running Wolf's willingness to share credit. The Indian still remained an enigma to him, though he felt they made slight progress this afternoon in cracking his hard exterior.
"My father was the best hunter in his whole village," Eyes Like the Sky said, pride evident in his voice.
Running Wolf laughed softly. "My son exaggerates."
"Oh yeah, well my papa's the best tracker in the whole town," Josef added, before taking a mouthful of food.
Sully was amused by his son's competitive streak. "I learned trackin' from the Cheyenne, Joe. Ya won't find better hunters an' trackers than the Indians."
"When my father was a boy, he went out on hunting parties to kill buffalo," Eyes Like the Sky added in their little game of one-upmanship.
"You went on Buffalo hunts?" Brian asked Running Wolf. He had only heard about the great buffalo hunts, but he had never seen one.
"Yes," Running Wolf replied. He leaned back and titled his head to the sky allowing the memories to wash over him. "Nothing compares to a buffalo hunt. You can feel the rumble of the earth in the pit of your stomach as hundreds of buffalo move together in a sea of brown." He lowered his head to see if the group was interested in his story. He smiled when he saw all eyes focused on him. "I remember the last hunt I went on. There were about forty of us, the best hunters in our village. We rode toward the herd with our hair and feathers blowing all around us. We fired shots and yelled battle cries, when the buffalo, hearing our approach, scattered in all directions. I don't think there's another sound equal to the pounding of hooves on the ground as they flee the approaching hunters. It sounded like all the drums in our village were beating at once. My whole body shook from the vibration. We managed to split off about twelve buffalo from the herd and surround them so they couldn't charge us. One by one, they dropped to the ground. We brought home enough meat for the winter and celebrated long into the night."
"I hope to go on buffalo hunts when I'm older," Eyes Like the Sky announced.
"Can I go, too, Papa?" Josef asked, riveted by the story.
"Why do you want to kill buffalo," Katie said, repulsed.
"I'm afraid there's no more buffalo 'round these parts ta hunt," Sully sadly told them. His eyes became remote as he recalled the senseless killing of the buffalo by Rankin and others from the railroad.
Running Wolf's fork froze in mid-air over his plate. "No buffalo?"
"The railroad slaughtered most of the buffalo so they could build the tracks for the train," Dorothy explained.
"Do you still have many up North?" Michaela asked, as she began to gather the plates, scraping the left over food into the fire.
"Less than we used to," Running Wolf answered. "But we had enough to feed the people."
"How much do ya know 'bout Darlington?" Sully asked, concerned they were unprepared for the reservation they were moving to.
"We know our people live there. That is all we need to know," Night Crane answered, as she helped Michaela collect the plates.
Michaela poured water into the pot for coffee. Then she turned toward the children. "I think it's time for the two of you to go to bed."
"Mama, can Eyes Like the Sky sleep in our tent tonight?" Katie asked.
Michaela turned toward Night Crane. "It's all right with me as long as you don't mind."
"I don't know," Night Crane answered, searching for a reason to say no. "We…we must be up early."
"Please," Josef begged. "We'll be good."
"Nahko'e."
Night Crane found it hard to resist her son's plea, especially given how easily her son had made friends with these white children. They seemed to accept him. "Very well, you may sleep in the tent with the other children," she told her son.
"Papa, can you tell us a story first?" Josef asked, trying his best to postpone going to bed.
"Night Crane is right. We all need to be up early tomorrow," Michaela said, reaching for her children's hands. "You can hear stories another night."
"Please," Katie pleaded. "I'm not tired."
Michaela turned toward Sully for support. The look in his eyes told her he wanted to give in to them. After all, they were on vacation. "All right, one story," she said, surrendering.
"Yeah!" the children cried out in unison. Katie and Josef settled in on either side of their father. Eyes Like the Sky sat next to his mother. Michaela took a seat next to Katie. Night Crane held New Promise in her lap as he slept.
"What do ya wanna hear?" Sully asked.
"Something new," Katie said, leaning her head against her mother's shoulder.
"Why don't Runnin' Wolf tell us a story," Sully suggested. "I bet he knows stories we haven't heard."
"Have you heard the story of the great race?" Running Wolf asked the children.
"We know that one," Josef said.
"How about the story of the white buffalo?"
"Is that Running Ghost?" Katie asked.
"You know that one, too. You are better versed in Cheyenne stories than I am," Running Wolf quipped, eyeing Sully. He still didn't know what to make of him. Fear prevented him from trusting what his eyes and ears told him. "You tell your children Cheyenne stories?"
Sully nodded as he poured a cup of coffee for himself and Michaela. "My spirit goes with the Cheyenne," he replied softly.
Michaela draped her arm around Katie's shoulder. "We want our children to learn about the people who mean so much to us. It's our way of keeping the Cheyenne alive," she added, accepting the cup from Sully.
"We tell 'em fairy tales, too," Sully supplied. "The kind Michaela grew up with."
Running Wolf turned to his wife. "Since the children know so many Cheyenne stories, why don't you read them a story out of that book you're so fond of?"
Night Crane considered his request for a moment. "I'll get it," she said, placing the baby in his father's arms and rising to retrieve the book from her bundle. She returned right away carrying a well-worn volume under her arm.
"Aesop's Fables!" Michaela exclaimed, noticing the title of the book. "They were my favorite bedtime stories as a child. Our children enjoy them as well. How did you learn about them?"
"They used this book to teach us English while we were at the Army school," Night Crane said.
"Where was that?" Michaela asked.
"Camp Supply," she replied, averting her eyes.
Sully turned sharply in her direction. Camp Supply was where they had taken the Cheyenne prisoners after Washita. Others had probably gone there, too. "When were you at Camp Supply?"
"A long time ago," she answered, as she leafed through the pages of the book for an appropriate story. She continued to speak, afraid that any silence would encourage further probing into her past. "I resisted reading the white man's books at first, but I have found that these tales remind me of the stories of my people. It is similar to the way we teach our children lessons on how to live."
"Indeed. I can see the similarities," Michaela agreed.
"I found one." Night Crane began to read from her book. "A jackdaw looked down on its fellows because it happened to be bigger than any of them. So it joined the crows and asked to be allowed to live with them. But as its appearance and voice were unfamiliar, the crows knocked it about and chivvied it off. Whereupon it returned to the daws. Indignant, however, at the way it had insulted them; they would not have it back. Thus, it found itself banished from the society of both."
"I don't get it," Josef blurted.
"Well," his mother began. "The fable is about getting the worst of both worlds."
"What does that mean?" Eyes Like the Sky asked.
"When you look down upon your own people and try to join a different world, those people may look down upon you. If you later try to return to your own people, they, in turn, may reject you for treating them badly. The lesson is that when you look down on where you came from, in the end, you are alone." Night Crane explained.
Running Wolf stared hard at his wife wondering why she chose this fable. He shuddered at how the jackdaw's life resembled his own. For the second time today, Sully noticed the haunted look in his eyes. He was even more curious about the path that led to his decision to move his family to Darlington.
"Read another one," Eyes Like the Sky asked.
"It is time for all of us to go to sleep," Night Crane answered, before rising to her feet.
Brian stretched his arms out to his side and yawned. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed."
"I'm tired, too," Dorothy added.
"Everyone is," Michaela said as she rose and took Katie and Josef by the hand.
To Be Continued...
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