18 comments/ 47307 views/ 9 favorites 1750 By: dreampilot79 Everywhere around him, the innocuous sounds of imminent violence. The swishing of branches slapping back into place after being displaced by human forms caused Seth to cover himself in the just budding foliage beside the heavily trod path. He had been cowering in the brush for hours evading the metallic clinking of white man's implements. Whispered words, close at hand, sending the knife edge of fear through him. At least four voices, too low to understand, but each a danger. Each human sound, possible immediate death. There were no friends in this awful wood, only enemies bent on his destruction. The white men to his right suddenly got quiet, they too had heard the new person tromping noisily through the unending forest. Seth sucked in his breath and held it as the muffled footsteps and noise of disturbed branches came closer, mixed with a strange dragging sound. He silently checked the prime on his rifle and loosened the knife in his belt. His life expectancy shortening with each approaching step. Hearing was his main sense. You couldn't see more than a few yards in the heavy cover of the primal forest. He had spent months evading humans and his ears were finely tuned to the sounds around him. When he saw her, he quietly let out his breath in a slight release of tension. He had known that it would be an Indian walking down the path, the muffled footfalls of moccasin clad feet had told him that. The noise she made contrary to the legends of deathly quiet sneaking warriors that he had grown up with. She was a danger, but not the same threat a hunting party would have been. The Indian woman was young with a lithe figure and long flowing black hair. She wore buckskin leggings and a skirt adorned with colorful beads and buttons. Like her male counterparts, she was naked from the waist up. Under different circumstances he would have thought her a beautiful girl. She was on the move, behind her she drug a travois heaped with things. Trading or moving? Seth didn't know, didn't care. The nearness of the white men made her dangerous. If she saw him, a single word would send them after him, intent on his destruction. She moved past him without seeing him. The noise faded as she moved further down the path toward the white men he knew lurked quietly around the next twist of the trail. He had expected to hear greetings, instead he heard a shrill female scream of terror followed by the heavy thump of a body being thrown to the ground. More screams followed and the sound of thrashing in the brush. Male screams of pain and excitement mingled with her guttural sounds. The girl was giving the men a good fight, but the outcome was clear. Yells, screams, noise. The screams of the woman cutting through his very core. Anger welled up in him. There was a burning inside him that told him that he had to do something. What in God's green earth was he doing here? This was French territory and any American would be killed on sight, as he well knew. He could not know that the French and Indian War was only three years in the future. He could know that the fur rich Ilini country was alive with violence directed against any illicit American/English encroachment on French trapping claims. His brother, his best friend, his sole companion for almost a year in this god forsaken land, had died only a week before. Died a horrible death of fever and pain, after some French trappers had found them. The knowledge of potential instant violence had been taught to him in blood. He should close his ears and ignore the scene unfolding only a few yards away. The men's yells were in English. He knew what that meant. They could not afford to allow her to live and bring down the wrath of other Indians. They were going to rape her and then they had no choice but to kill her. Had they simply shot her where she stood, he would have come up to them and not thought further about it. They could have been his salvation from nearly sure death in the wilderness. But the screams cut through him. His anger boiled over. He had no business being here. He should ignore the noises wait and approach them. He longed for home, and feared it as well. The sounds were coming from 50 yards to his right, the scene hidden from view by the dense underbrush. He did not need to see, to know. The girl's scream pierced him, causing almost a physical pain that shot through his soul, cutting through the agony and the grief that filled him. The sound of the thrashing brush, testament to what was happening, and that knowledge fueled his anger. Rage that burned through his despair and his fear. This was not his concern, he tried in vain to tell himself. The law said he should not be here, and his presence had cost him a brother, now beginning to rot in the shallow grave Seth had dug with his own bare hands and watered with his tears, only a week before. The only thing he wanted was to escape this fearful land and get home to the disgrace of his family blaming him for Joshua's death. This was not his fight, and if he joined it, surely he would join his brother in death within the next few minutes. The girl was an Indian, a heathen, less than human, at least that was what most of eastern society would have him believe. He should not be so concerned about what happened to her. She screamed again, and the sound of her foot connecting with one of her assailants echoed through the woods. There was an answering scream of foul language, a short laugh and the sound of a fist striking fragile feminine features. The THUNK of the fist connecting with the girl burned through him. Seth could not turn his back. He could not walk away. He would die here in the Ilini country, die now, defending the honor of a girl he did not know. A girl of another race, some said only an animal. Seth did not believe that, the Indians were as much human as he. Even if they were not, no beast deserved to be raped and killed and he had no doubt that they intended to do both to her. Anger replaced fear, but it did not cloud his thinking. Seth looked around him considering how to approach the rapists and their victim. The thrashing of the people fighting in the woods would cover any sounds he made, but still he could make better time along the worn game path, than cutting through the woods. Seth's blue eyes burned with anger as he stood. The path only five steps from where he had concealed himself behind the shaggy bush. He carefully checked the prime on his rifle; he made sure his vicious skinning knife was loose in his pants. From the sounds he knew there were several of them. He had heard four distinct male voices. Four against one. He had little chance. He would die in the next few moments, but perhaps the woman would escape. At least he would meet his end in an attempt to prevent a wrong, and he would not have to face his parents and tell them of Joshua's death. Seth was no stranger to death, he had killed his share of wild animals and butchered the family livestock. He had never killed a man before and he knew that he would have to. Blood lust was upon these men. The only way to stop them would be to kill them. He would not hesitate. He also knew he would not survive. He pushed the clinging green vegetation out of his way as silently as possible as he stepped toward the narrow trail, of bare dirt, where the deer and other animals had worn away the low clinging plants to expose the soil. Humans had cleared the overhanging branches to make a walkway a person could traverse without fighting the leaves and branches. The loose soil was marked by many tracks. There were deer prints and other animals, with the tracks of moccasin clad feet and hobbled shoes laying over the top of the animal prints. Months of practice sneaking up on game allowed Seth to move rapidly but almost noiselessly toward the sounds. It took him only a few seconds for him to get into a position where he could see what was happening. What he saw disgusted him. The Indian girl was putting up a valiant fight but she was no match for the four soldiers who held her pinned to the ground. Seth had expected at least one of the men to be standing guard, but the girls thrashing required them all to hold her down. The odds were better than Seth had expected but still he had little chance to survive. He took in the scene for a moment, deciding how to proceed. The soldiers were all still fully clothed in their dirty red jackets, made filthy by months of wilderness hiking. Their white pants, now gray from the grime of the trail. Their long bulky Brown Bess muskets and other equipment were strewn several arm lengths from where they held down the helpless girl. One soldier pinned each arm, another sat astride her thrashing legs, his full weight and strength unable to keep her from moving. The fourth held a long fighting knife as he knelt beside her and tried to cut the soft leather of her clothing from her. There was never any hope of dissuading them. No prayer of ending this without further violence. His only hope of survival was in brutally killing all four. There was little hope of that but he would try. The man with the knife was the biggest threat. Seth had only one shot and there would be no time to reload. He took careful aim at the head of the man with the knife. To shoot lower, risked the bullet passing through him and striking the girl. The click of the hammer of the rifle being pulled into firing position was enough to alert the four soldiers but Seth pulled the trigger before any could do anything. There was a snapping sound and a small puff of acrid gray white smoke billowed from the pan, followed a moment later by the roar of the rifle's discharge as a billowing cloud obscured his vision. It didn't matter, Seth was already reversing the rifle to turn it into a club as he ran through the smoke. The Sergeant's dead body had not had time to fall before Seth was through the haze. A spray of blood and brains had splashed over the Indian girl's face and upper body. The skin of her lower torso up to her breasts was exposed allowing a gory froth to cover the naked skin of her belly. The dead man fell over the girl. There was little room to move along the path and not as much as he would have liked to swing the rifle. The gap in the trees that made up the trail was only about a foot wide. Seth closed on the man holding her feet. He raised the rifle over his head and brought it down on his head. There was a cracking sound as the man's head was crushed and he rolled off the girls feet. The two men holding her arms had already begun to move toward their muskets, each moving a different direction. There was no room to properly swing the rifle again, although Seth tried to put all his strength into a blow at the man moving to his right, but the soldier caught it as it struck him in the ribs. Seth let go of the long rifle that was actually in his way as he closed, drawing his skinning knife as he advanced, stepping nimbly over the dead man he had struck with the rifle. The knife flashed and the soldiers eyes sprung wide as the knife entered his chest below his breastbone and was pulled upward. The man was dead before he fell. It had taken only seconds, but Seth knew it was too long. The fourth soldier, now behind him must have reached his musket by now. Seth expected to feel a ball smack into his back and hear the roar of the gun. He fully expected his next and last sight to be the forest floor rushing up to strike his face, his last sound to be the roar of the rifle, the last smell to be of expended gunpowder, and his last taste to be the sulfur of the smoke. He did not wait for it, first he reached a discarded musket and then he spun to face the ball that should be hurling toward him even now. He was half way around when he heard something he had not expected. A masculine howl of pain. As Seth turned the soldier held a musket in one hand but he was falling, the fighting knife that the Sergeant had been using to cut away the girls clothing was stuck into his thigh to the hilt. As the soldiers let go of her to face the new threat, the girl had kicked at the dead sergeant pinning her feet as she grabbed his knife. She could not get free from the dead weight quickly enough to rise to her feet but she did the best she could. She stabbed at his exposed legs with all her strength, lodging the knife in him. That thrust had caused him to lose his balance just as his hand found his discarded musket. That wound had given Seth the seconds he needed. He quickly brought the musket to his shoulder and fired. When the smoke cleared, all four soldiers lay dead, the final man with half his head blown off by the ¾ inch ball of the musket. Seth stood there, his chest heaving. The whole fight had lasted less than thirty seconds, but it had drained him totally. He had never been so tired in his life. It was all he could do to stand and suddenly he was thirsty, his mouth so dry his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He turned back toward the girl and backed less than one step into the trunk of a tree and then slid down it to sit heavily on the ground. He was surprised to be alive, and yet it was not really a relief. He reached for his canteen to quench his thirst as he looked at the girl for the first time. She was the first Indian of the Ilini country he had been this close to. He and Joshua had left their home on the edge of the wilderness in New York in the late summer of 1749 with two canoes packed with provisions and heads filled with dreams of riches. The two brothers had paddled for weeks and weeks it seemed, avoiding everyone both white and Indian. They had been lured by tales of the wealth of the furs in the French country. The Spanish had first tapped into the gold of Central America. The French had claimed the far north, and its riches of fur. The English had taken the land in the middle, land that brought little to the European sponsors. It was rich in many ways, but none that brought the value of either the Spanish or French holdings. Their very survival depended on avoiding people. The land was controlled by the French and the Indians they traded with. No American was allowed to tap into the riches. Any Englishman or American found by either the French trappers or their Indian allies were killed on sight. They had glided quietly through great lakes and up powerful rivers, lured on by the thought of riches, beaver pelts worth almost half a silver Spanish dollar, the coin of the America's in that year. They had no idea where they were going, only westward into French territories. Both the French and the Indians were hostile and Seth and Joshua did not belong. Either faction would kill them. They glided silently past Detroit, a small trading post where the big lake met the river, in the darkness. They had paddled on around the great peninsula until they judged they were as far from the post at Detroit as they could be and then they had turned inland on a river on the other side of Michigan. They had trapped all winter, filling the canoes with pelts as they drained them of supplies. The winter had been brutally cold but the trapping good. Spring had finally come and they were jubilant. They were rich! Their canoes jammed to the gunnels with furs. They had almost 2000 pelts of muskrat and beaver. Perhaps 1000 Spanish dollars, a decades cash for an American. Then disaster had struck. They were paddling toward the great lake, when what was perhaps the inevitable happened. A French trapping party had come upon them. They yelled greetings in French, but neither brother could reply in that language. No further questions were asked, the seven trappers had opened up on them with musket fire. A ball had struck Joshua in the chest and Seth had had no choice but to beach his canoe as he drug Joshua's behind to the safety of the perpetual forest. Seth had grabbed all he could and helped, half dragged Joshua into the brush. The Frenchies had not bothered to chase them. They simply took the canoes and what was left of their supplies and deserted them to die in the wilderness. Joshua had lingered for three weeks but finally he had succumbed to the grievous wound that had left him to scream in pain and thrash in the delirium of fever. Those three awful weeks still affected Seth. The helplessness of watching his brother, his best friend, die, withering in pain, burning in fever. Seth unable to do anything to help. Unable to sleep both because of Joshua's screams, and the ones that yelled inside his head, replaying the moment of violence every time he closed his eyes. He had never been so forlorn. He had lost everything, his riches, his supplies, his best friend, and his way out of this god forsaken wilderness. He was lost, desperate and forlorn. His stomach empty. Despair heavy on his soul. Few people walked through the heavy timber of the Ilini country. The trees and tangled underbrush too difficult to travel, navigation too hard. Any paths that existed were either wandering game trails that went nowhere, or worse human walkways that led to people who would kill him on sight. Avoiding those same paths, meant struggling through tangled briers and vines that made walking very difficult, even painful. It was so much simpler to travel by water in any kind of boat but his had been stolen. For an American trapped in French country, the lack of a canoe was nearly a death sentence. If the hardships of the land did not kill him, the enemies of his country would. If he could escape this wilderness, then he would have to face his parents, and tell them of Joshua's death, something he held himself accountable for. Now he had added the deaths of four English soldiers to his list of sins. He drank the water from the canteen and looked at the girl for the first time. Strangely he saw beauty. She had thrown off the dead body of the Sergeant and stood facing Seth, her eyes watching him, full of emotion. He saw fear, anger, relief, horror, and distrust of him. Her chest was heaving, the adrenalin slowly wearing off her as well. Her long flowing black hair caked with dirt and leaves, her face smudged by mud and a red welt was rising on her jaw where one of her assailants had struck her. A trickle of blood ran from the corner of her mouth. Her dirty deerskin skirt slit nearly in two draped away from her body and was now splattered with blood and brains; the same gore that was stuck to the soft curves of her olive skinned belly and matted in her visible black pubic hair. She was young and lithe. Somehow Seth saw beauty through the wretched sight of her. Keezheekoni watched him, wondering why he had saved her, what he wanted, what he would do. Her only contact with White men before had been a few vile French trappers who had come to her villages to trade. They had brought steel, and muskets and powder and beads, beautiful beads. They had been nice enough in the village, but her people had not really trusted them once they left their sight. She watched him, taking her time to decide that the danger was over. He sat there, slumped in the exhaustion of the fight. He made no move toward her. Strangely, he did not seem to consider her a threat. The man made no move toward any of the scattered weapons. He just watched her. He may have been her salvation, but still she did not trust him. She looked into his blue eyes for several minutes, finding no malice there. Keezheekoni knew that it was unlikely she could talk to him. She had no way to know that he felt the same depression that filled her. Keezheekoni walked to the body of the man Seth had killed with his knife and kicked the body to roll it over, then pulled the knife from his chest. She felt nothing for the man. She was hardly sorry that the monster who had held one of her arms was dead. She felt Seth's eyes watching her, but he made no move to protect himself. She wiped the blood from the knife on the soldiers dirty white pants, then reversed the weapon to grasp it by the cold steel. 1750 Her legs shook and her arm trembled as she handed the knife to Seth, hilt first. She watched him warily, ready to jump back but he took it and simply slid it into the sheath in his belt. In that moment, Keezheekoni knew that she had nothing to fear from this man. Slowly, Seth recovered. He gave little thought to the woman before him. He had saved her from death, perhaps from something even worse than death, but he held no claim to her. He expected them both to simply go their separate ways. The months of learning to fear everyone slipped away after the heat of battle, it didn't even cross his mind that she could be a threat to him, perhaps he didn't really care. She could return to her tribe and bring their arrows raining down on him. He had not expected to live through the fight, certainly not uninjured. Now he had to survive. He didn't really know why he had to live, only that he would continue to draw breath, continue to go eastward, continue to head home. He had the tools to survive, but not the will. He had escaped from the ambush by the Frenchies with very little. He had grabbed his rifle and his pack and his brother. He had a blanket, cooking gear, spare flints to start a fire or replace the one that ignited the powder in his rifle, a small quantity of gunpowder and perhaps 100 of the .58 caliber balls that fit his gun. The dead soldiers would be carrying more, which would improve his situation slightly but there was the distance ahead of him. He could not know that it was over 500 miles to his home. They had paddled much further. He knew only that he had to go east, if he was to get home. Slowly, he rose to his feet; the fatigue of the fight still weighing heavily on him, draining his strength. He rummaged through the scant belongings of the dead soldiers. They carried very little, which surprised him. He took the gunpowder from each of them to supplement the meager supply that he had. They had no packs, only the muskets and other weapons that they carried and each had a canteen. They had no blankets, no rope, no other supplies. Keezheekoni watched him. He was not stealing from the dead, he was collecting what he could use. It surprised her that he would need the equipment they carried. A man should not be alone in this place without the tools to stay alive. She watched him a moment, and then helped him search the bodies. Seth could not understand. Englishmen should not be here, especially not soldiers. This was French territory, prohibited land for all Englishmen. What were they doing here? Why were they not carrying the equipment they would need, the equipment he needed. There was only one possibility, they were an official scouting party. The question was, were there more of them and were they on foot or did they have a canoe? Could these men be his salvation? Keezheekoni made her decision. She would stake her lot with this man. She didn't really know why, except that she had little to go back to, little to look forward to. This man had saved her. He seemed to be better than many of the men she had known before. The future was an unknown no matter what she did. Keezheekoni had memories of happy times, but those were well in the past. She had known great tragedy and great pain in her 19 summers. She remembered the happy times with her mother and father. Times of play and fun and great happiness but those had ended nine years before when her father had gone hunting alone. He had simply vanished. There had been no unattached warriors in their village and her mother blamed the other men for not having found her man, the love of her life. For several months, she kept up the vigil, waiting for her man to miraculously appear, but he did not. Instead the travelers came. Ottowa Indians, cousins and traders of the land. One of them, tall, thin, and good looking had had no wife. He offered the tribe many beads and knives for her. Keezheekoni had appealed to her father for permission to take her children with her to the land of the Ottowa, to the north. Kajika had the right to keep them, but he saw so much pain in Migisi's eyes and could not bear hurting her more. She could take his grandchildren. With that approval, Migisi had accepted, taking her 10 year old daughter and her 5 year old son to live far to the north. Keezheekoni did not remember the trek to Kokotoni's village, only that it had been a long walk. What she did remember, was how he had turned from the strong protector, to the nasty husband. Neither violence, nor loud verbal abuse would have been tolerated, but Kokotoni did not miss a single opportunity to quietly insult Migisi. Her tears came quietly and frequently. At first, Kokotoni had simply ignored Keezheekoni but then it had been her turn to hear his scornful words. Keezheekoni was miserably unhappy. She never felt she belonged. Her brother had faired slightly better, but he had not escaped Kokotoni's disdain. Her new half-brother had been the light of Kokotoni's life. Life had been misery. The joy sucked from her childhood. The miserable years had passed, and she had reached womanhood. The raging hormones within her had caused her to take several lovers among the boys her age, but none of them appealed to her for more than occasional pleasure, each reminded her of her evil step-father. She was not happy with her new tribe but she only knew that the old was far to the south. She had asked her mother frequently how to find her old home, but her mother had told her that she should make her life here, among these vile people. It had been Kokotoni who had done it; he had trudged overland through the snow and the tangled forest with a sled full of pelts to trade with the French at Detroit. It had been a demonstration of his prowess and his strength. Her step-father had come back with many things. Muskets, powder, balls, salt, knives, steel needles, thread, salt, and beads. He had also come back with the white mans pox. She had had no time to rejoice when Kokotoni had died, because the disease spread through the Indians with wild abandon and the first to fall ill had been her family. Many died after Kokotoni and among the first had been her mother. Keezheekoni had little time to cry for her, because by that time both her 14 year old brother and her 6 year old half brother were showing the early signs of the illness. By the middle of March, she had cremated all of her family and fully 80 percent of the other villagers. The tears came. Why she had been spared was a question without an answer. What was clear was that there were too few of them left to tend the corn and squash. Too few to hunt. Too few to live. The only blessing was that all of the survivors were young and stood some slim chance of being accepted into other tribes of the Ottawa clan. The elders who might have been a drain on other tribes were all gone, only the strong remained. Keezheekoni, had never felt that she was an Ottawa. She clung to her Potawatomi identity. When spring finally broke, the group had abandoned their log and mud lodgings and struck out on their own, each to find his or her own way. The rest had traveled to well known villages close by. Keezheekoni, however had struggled south, in search of her roots, her people, the only ones with whom she had been happy. She had been going south for three weeks, hauling all her worldly goods on a travois made of a couple saplings with a deer hide sewn to it. The going had been slow, but unlike Seth, she did not fear the people of the land. Most nights she had slept under the stars, but on several nights she had slept in the comfort of villages. Each night she had cried herself to sleep. On those rare occasions when people had sheltered her, they had also shared their meals. Most days she subsisted on the plants and roots she gathered as she walked. Each night she set snares for rabbits and she had caught several. The future held little for her. She had only a meager hope. Her only future would be to accept a man quickly as her husband. It was not a path she wished but one of practicality. Her only hope, that he would not be the monster that her step-father had proved to be. She had been walking for three weeks, making slow time through the virgin woods. She had not seen Seth, hiding in the bushes by the trail, when she drug all her possessions past him. She had walked right into the four red coats. She hadn't seen them or heard them. She had known immediately what was about to happen. They would take her and then they would kill her. Keezheekoni had expected no rescue. She had not expected to survive, only to make it as difficult for them as possible. She had fought well, but they had been upon her before she knew they were even there. Now she was alive. She breathed the air deeply and tried to let the tension out of her. It was unbelievable that her attackers were dead and not her. Incomprehensible that she had been saved by another white man. She watched Seth for a moment, and then realized several things. He was alone, stranded. She had no conception of why that should be, but she knew it. She also saw his confusion as he looked for supplies and came to the same conclusion. Either these men had a canoe close by, or they were not alone. When Seth grabbed the arms of one of the dead soldiers, she understood immediately and helped him drag all four bodies into the brush, where they could not be seen. For a moment, she wondered if a fate like this had befallen her father, and then she dismissed it. This man would have been but a boy when her father had disappeared. Her father's fate might have been at the hands of other men, but most likely other Indians, or perhaps a wounded bear or a simple accident. A broken leg could kill as surely, if not so rapidly, as an arrow through the heart. The white man was confused. She could see that he did not know how to proceed. She could feel the gore drying, caking on her skin and in her hair. That feeling was strange. It actually warmed her to know that those men had gotten the fate that they had planned for her. Their deaths warranted, welcomed by her. Still their blood and brains and gore were not pleasant on her skin. Keezheekoni examined the place where the men had jumped her. The trail of broken branches they had left behind to get here was plain, and it led toward where she knew the river to be. She wanted to get to that water to wash away the signs of violence that covered her body and the tatters of her clothing. She pulled her travois into the brush and then walked up to Seth. The man was still confused. She looked into his eyes and then nodded her head in the direction of the tracks the soldiers had made. Seth had expected her to simply continue on her way. He had not expected her to still be with him. He did not know why she wanted him to follow her, but it was obvious that she did. Was she leading him into a trap? The fact that she had hidden her possessions and was leading him away from the trail she had been traveling, made him believe that she was helping him. He decided to trust her. It took only moments to realize that she was following the trail of the soldiers. She also turned to glare at him when he made noise pushing the tangled brambles out of the way. She was concerned about the possibility of other soldiers. Seth, on the other hand, had stopped worrying. If there were other redcoats here, they would have come running at the sound of gunshots. They had come only about 200 yards when they found the camp. They were on the bank of a small river and two large canoes were hidden by freshly cut brush. Seth's eyes lit up. The canoes were half full of supplies. Powder, salt, jerky, sea biscuits and best of all, a freshly killed deer. They both spent several minutes watching for other signs of life, but Seth was convinced within a few moments that there had been only the four of them. It was safe. For the first time in many weeks, Seth felt hope. He had a way home. He watched the woman peel off the soiled clothing and throw the rags down. He had never seen a naked woman before, but he knew this one was something special. Her skin dark and smooth. Her curves so pleasing to his eye. Her flat stomach flowed to her large shapely breasts capped by darker nipples. He could not take his eyes from her. He felt his penis springing to life, even though he had no conscious sexual thoughts. The river water was cold and the bed muddy and sucked her feet into the sticky silt when Keezheekoni stepped into it, but it still felt good on her dirty skin. She could feel Seth's eyes on her as she washed her hair and then cleaned the gore from her. She watched his eyes when she emerged. She felt the warmth of his appreciative gaze on her body, cutting the chill of the cold water. She made no attempt to cover herself as a white woman would have. Nudity was quite normal for her. She needed to get the remnants of her garment. It would never be clothing again but it was a good piece of leather and if ever it would be useful again, it needed to be cleaned. She had known this man for two turbulent hours, or perhaps less, but she felt strange things. She had just been through the most traumatic event of her life. She had known that she would be violated and killed. This white man had saved her from that fate, that vile death. She still felt the fear and loathing and the dread. She could not think of normal sex, would not for a long time, but she felt a strange warmth from his gaze. She also felt gratitude toward him for saving her. She didn't know how she knew, but she knew that he had no experience with women. She felt a strange humor at the look on his face. She could see that he would not try and take her, would not harm her. Strangely, she felt safe with him. Still, she could see the desire in him and see too that he was suppressing it, perhaps not even aware of it and that knowledge warmed her slightly, not in a sexual way, but in a human one. They had not said a single word to each other, each had understood the futility of talking, but now a slight upturn of her lips, not quite a smile covered her face. "You're dirty, come here, lets wash you." She said to him. Seth didn't understand the words, but he understood many things in that moment. He understood what she wanted him to do. Understood that it was a human and not a sexual invitation. Understood that she was playing with him. Understood that he liked the sound of her voice. He gave her a sly half smile and then accepted the challenge. He peeled off his clothes and joined her on the river bank. He had not washed since his brother had died. He had not cleaned his clothing since the day before the ambush, when he had lost his sole set of spare clothing. There was no contact between them. They both waded into the cold water. He splashed himself with the cold water, scrubbing away the dirt with his hands, cleaning his hair. He spent the time blushing at his nudity in front of this strange beautiful woman. Seth watched her scrubbing his clothing in the water, getting as much of the dirt out of it as she could. He watched her breasts giggle as she rubbed the clothing and tried to hide his erection under the water. She noticed and smiled slightly. Her smile only made her more attractive and made his hardness even stiffer. Keezheekoni caught herself smiling, and couldn't believe it. The horror was still so fresh, and she could smile? She could find his erection amusing? She laid out his clothing to dry in the sun and then put on her moccasins and headed back to reclaim her possessions. She could feel his eyes watch her naked bottom as she disappeared into the brush. She had not expected him to chase her, but she was relieved that he did not even follow. In that moment she knew that she had made the right decision. The fact that he would let her go, meant that she was safe to stay. That temporary return to normality, ended abruptly when she had gotten back to her possessions. The travois was still there, still fine, but the memories of the horror flooded over her. Her body began to shake. Tears began to stream down her face. She had planned to put on her spare clothing, but she wanted to escape too much to pause. She simply grabbed the travois, not even bothering to put on the harness and drug it as quickly away from the scene as she could travel. Keezheekoni was in a hurry, rushing from the scene of the horror. She did not notice the brambles cutting into her skin. Seth had not expected to see her again. He had expected her to be on her way to where ever she had been going. He heard the thrashing of brush and grabbed his rifle. Then he saw her naked body rushing from the woods. He saw the tears running down her face, as sobs racked her body. He did not even think about his own nakedness as he pulled her into his arms. For almost two hours he held her naked body against his as sobs racked her. She cried herself out against him. He felt comfortable holding her, it helped him forget the horror as well. Her body pressed against his gave him some relief from the despair that he had felt for weeks. His discomfort at being naked in a womans view was gone. She felt good in his arms, the sun felt warm on their skin. The horror faded. Her tears ended. He was aware of the hunger aching in his belly. He went to his clothing and found it still wet, then he rummaged in the canoes until he found some jerky and some sea biscuits. He would rather have cooked some venison, but he didn't want to light a fire until after dark. He held up the food and asked. "You hungry?" Keezheekoni did not understand the words, but she understood what he meant. She nodded her head. She watched his naked form, lean and well muscled, but pale. His brown hair and blue eyes were different, but she found his features strong and attractive. She smiled at him. She knew his clothing was still wet and that she could get dressed any time, but he had only one set of clothing and would have to stay naked until it dried. She decided to remain as naked as he, until he could put his clothing back on. He brought the food to her and she watched him eat it, following his lead. She understood that this was traveling food and not the normal fare of his people and it was a good thing because she found it less than wonderful, still it filled her and gave her strength. She could forage for them later. Seth found two blankets and laid one on the ground. He had no idea what she would do, but she came to him and laid with him on the blanket. The feel of her naked body warmed him as much as the sun. He covered them with another blanket and they slept. The sun was low in the western sky when they awoke. His clothing was dry and they both dressed. Seth still had no idea what she would do. He began rummaging through the canoes, deciding what to put in the one he would be taking. He left room in the bow for her, if she was coming. She watched him work and then went to the other canoe, sorting through all the things there, finding useful items and placing those aside. When she had emptied the canoe into two piles beside it she began to pick items up one at a time. "Do you want to take this?" She would ask. Seth did not understand the words, but he loved the sound of her voice and he knew what she meant. He would answer her each time. "Yes, we should take that." or "No, I don't think we need that". He emphasized the words with a nod or a shake of his head. Occasionally, he would hold up a hand and rummage through the canoe by him till he found a like item. "That one, this one or both?" He would ask. She would answer him by pointing to one or the other, or pointing at both. Keezheekoni, liked the sound of his strong voice, even if she could not understand the words. Still, they were communicating perfectly. She took over packing the canoe, and put her things on top. She could feel his smile when he knew she was planning to go with him. 1750 It was nearly dark when Seth began to gather wood for the fire and Keezheekoni realized that he intended to cook some of the venison. A fire during the day would have sent a smoke plume into the air that would be visible for miles, and anyone, French trapper or Indian hunting party would likely have come to check it out. In the evening, everyone was off the river and starting their fires to cook food or scare away the animals and they would be settling in for the night, unwilling to check out any other fire. She took over for him, starting the fire and cooking the meat. All they had to go with it was some sea biscuits, but still the meal was wonderful. She smiled at him as she ate, comfortable with his company. He helped her wash the cooking utensils in the cold water of the river. That struck her as strange. No Indian man would interfere with woman's work. There was no moon as they pushed the canoe into the river. The current ran toward the great lake and they had an easy time paddling but she had to stay concentrated to see and avoid obstacles that might hide in the river. The darkness was their friend and their enemy. They passed three campfires in the darkness, but there were no shouts of discovery and they made no attempt to determine who might be making camp there. Seth was glad he had to concentrate on the river. He had no time to think. He knew the dreams would be back, mixed with new ones from the last encounter. Those dreams would spill over into his waking mind. He had never known violence in his 21 years but there had been much of it in the last few weeks. He knew it would plague his mind. The river grew larger and faster as they paddled, smaller streams merging to widen the river and increase the flow. The wider the river, the fewer the snags and deeper the rocks. They moved faster and faster while doing less and less. They said nothing, quietly gliding down the river. They both had some time to think, although the river took up much of their thought. Danger lurked everywhere. There were rocks and timber snags, and unexpected rapid bends in the river. There were people who would kill them in an instant. Anyone traveling at night was an enemy, sneaking through the land, someone to be disposed of. Keezheekoni pondered her decision to go with this man. She knew little of white mans ways, had in fact known very few of them. She had no idea where this path would lead. Still he seemed a good man, worthy of her trust, her gratitude. The life behind her was full of horror, people she did not wish to abide among. The memories of her happy past, only memories with little real hope of rekindling the the joys of her youth again. Seth could only wonder why this woman was with him. Who were her people? Was she fleeing from them? Was she something evil, cast out? Did she have a husband? Would she kill him when he wasn't looking? By the first glimmers of light in the eastern sky, they could see the waters of the great lake ahead. They pulled the canoe out of the river and up the bank until it was obscured by brush. They made a cold camp with no cover, ate a meal of jerky and sea biscuit and then laid down to rest. Keezheekoni placed a single large blanket on the ground and had another to cover them. They snuggled for warmth and slept soundly after a full nights exertion paddling the canoe. Exhaustion cleansed Seth's mind of the fitful dreams he knew would come. Keezheekoni had strange twisted feelings. She was not ready for a man's touch and both relieved and insulted that this man made no attempt to have her. She did not want sex, but she wanted him to want her. Needed him to hold her. They awoke at mid day and ate a meal of jerky and sea biscuit. She was rapidly growing tired of this white mans food. She wandered into the woods to gather fresh plants and nuts for their evening meal. She came back with her leather bag filled with fresh eatable greens and nuts. On their trip out, Seth and Joshua had paddled the great lakes during the day time and he was itchy to begin again. He pointed at the canoe and gestured with the paddles, but she steadfastly refused and gently stopped him. She knew what he did not. It had been late summer when Seth had come here. The water of Lake Michigan had been as warm as it got and the perch and the lake trout had been in deep water. Now in spring, the warmest water in the lake was in the shallows. The Perch were gathering there to lay their eggs, and the Lake and Brown trout were chasing them. Unlike summer, spring lead to a wealth of fish near the shore where the Indians could catch them without braving the waters out of sight of land. Many would be fishing and all would be hostile. It never occurred to her that they could paddle deeper into the lake and not be seen from shore. That would be too dangerous. For the first time, communication failed them. Seth knew that she thought they had to wait for dark, but he didn't know why. He wasn't thrilled about going on that lake in the dark, but he yielded to her and sat down to wait. They began what would become a daily practice. She pointed at things around her and said their Ottowa name. He replied in English and they both laughed at the others pronunciation. For the first time she heard him call her name, and the sound of it coming from his lips warmed her. She giggled at how difficult it was to say his name. The afternoon passed much too quickly as they both discovered that they could laugh again, and that each liked the sound of the others mirth. As they paddled north that night, Seth understood why Keezheekoni had wanted them to wait. There were many camp fires burning on the shore. The paddling was more difficult, there was no current to help them but there were waves. Piles of water that could be dangerous. He knew then, that if she had not been along, he would have died the day before. He would have pushed into the lake and run across hostile people within hours. His odds of survival would have been slim. There were no rocks to avoid and the campfires were visible for miles. They had much more time to think. Seth stopped worrying about her. She would stay with him until it suited her to leave. He wondered when that could be, but he didn't picture a life with her. That second night, they didn't even try to speak, simply traveled in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Images of his brother screaming in delirium floated to his conscious followed by mental pictures of a man's head exploding from his ball. Each time those sights came to him, Seth looked at the petite figure of the girl as she dipped her paddle into the water. He didn't see a heathen, but rather a beautiful woman swinging a paddle with grace and skill. The more he watched her, the more he admired her, both as a woman and as a companion. They found a spot where the grass grew down to the watter just before the first glimmer of light and pulled the canoe onto the shore and hid it with brush. It took the two of them to drag the weighty and heavily laden canoe.. The day was like the one before. They ate cold food and slept till mid day, then she gathered wild food while he collected fallen wood for their fire. They both loved the language lessons and then a warm evening meal, and a night of paddling. Each lesson resulted in a few more words that each could say to the other. It would be a long time before they could talk, but they could say some things. First they taught each other the most important things. Their names, hunger, thirst, the need for bodily requirements, switch paddling arms, rock, tree, curve, right, left, and people. They could communicate some things and they both understood other things. They were beginning to trust each other, like each other. Many things changed as the days went on. Seth stopped wondering when Keezheekoni would flee him and started to wonder what her life had been, how it would be now, if she would be a part of his. It became easier for him to see a life with her in it. He pictured her in a gown, the other men envious of her beauty on his arm. Then a smile would cross his face as he imagined her naked, her shapely breasts in his hands. He had never been with a woman, and he tried to imagine what it would be like. He tried to picture himself inside this beautiful woman. The desire crept over him, slowly crowding the awful images from his mind. Keezheekoni began to wonder more about what life would be like in his world. She wondered about him, how he had gotten here, where he was going, and what part she would have in the future. She wondered when he would want her. The horror faded much more quickly from her than she would have thought. By their fourth night together, she knew she liked this man and wanted him to want her. They also began to laugh more, and play more as they paddled, flipping cold water from their paddles on each other. The nights became fun for them both, as they paddled northward. She was beginning to feel a warmth for him, a warming of her soul and a wet warmth between her legs. His brown hair strange for her, and his blue eyes penetrated her. Seth thought of himself as well tanned, she saw him as pale. The differences were not unpleasant for her. She found herself wanting him. Keezheekoni had put the horror behind her, Seth was occasionally visited by nightmares in his sleep. Keezheekoni held him, comforted him even in his sleep and found herself wanting to love those dreams away. The good weather and the venison both held for five days. By then the land was turning rapidly into the rising sun, they were nearing the northern tip of Michigan. The last night was black as thickening clouds obscured the sliver of a moon and the glittering stars. They had been much too close to shore during that night, close enough to see figures around the fires and hear the people talk. By now Seth could even understand a word or two that the Indians around their campfires spoke. None of the figures on the shore, illuminated and blinded by their own campfires had seen them. The threatening sky and the building waves had forced them to stop early. They hid themselves and their equipment and watched while the lightning flashed in the sky. The rain hit them before daylight. Pouring rain, raging winds and crashing waves. They got the large canvas from the canoe and tied one end to the boat, while they held the other up with two hastily cut branches. It helped but still leaked. They could do nothing but scrunch together and suffer in misery as the rain soaked them. Five days together had changed them both. The grief and despair had left Seth and the pain and fear had lost it's hold on Keezheekoni. They laughed easily with each other. During their paddling nights, they felt more relaxed. Since no river banks, where people could hide, were within rifle range of them and fires could be seen for miles, they felt free to make noise, to laugh, to splash each other and to hold language lessons while they paddled. They were beginning to like each other and they could communicate much better. Both had learned the most important words in the other's language and both had moved on to words that were less pressing. At mid day, the rains stopped, they were both wet and miserable but without sunshine, there was little chance to dry their clothing. Their supplies were still dry, protected by the overturned canoe. Keezheekoni had a change of clothing, but Seth did not. Neither had slept, kept awake by their cold misery. They went about their usual mid day routine but Seth got lucky. As he was looking for wood he spotted a deer. He primed his loaded rifle slowly so as not to spook him and then fired one shot. The deer jumped, obviously hit and then bounded into the woods. Seth waited. Keezheekoni, who was nearby, rushed to the sound of the shot, concerned. She found him following a blood trail. The deer had wandered only a few yards before it died. She smiled at him and then helped him drag their dinner back to camp. The Indian woman drew the knife she had taken from one of the soldiers. She skinned the deer with more skill than he ever had. She spent a long time scraping the hide. There was nothing to stretch it with. All she could do was pack it with some of the salt they carried. She hoped for another hide or two to make a spare set of clothing for Seth. Seth gathered wood and watched her work. There was little else to do besides the one thing that was consuming him lately, picturing her naked and in his arms. The deer and the hide were the main topics of their language lesson. Seth watched the five foot waves crash on the beach as the wind still pushed the water toward their shore. He didn't really mind that there would be no paddling tonight. It was simply too dangerous on the lake. Seth stripped off the sodden clothing when he had finished gathering wood. There was no sun to dry them, but they were uncomfortable to wear and he was now used to being naked in front of this beautiful raven haired woman. The air had gotten colder and he had to wrap himself in one of the blankets. When Keezheekoni had finished scraping the hide, her hands and arms were covered in the deers blood. Neither of them had bathed in the five days they had been on the trail. She smiled at the naked Seth and took his hand in her bloody one and led him to the frigid water of the lake. The lake was much too cold to plunge into, but not too cold to splash each other. She scrubbed his naked body, pleased with the way he reacted. Neither had slept, both were tired. She let the waves crash over them and thought about it. "We go tonight?" she asked him in English. Seth shook his head."Waves big, danger." He said in her language. A slight smile crossed her face. Partly it was his accent and the simple words he used. Partly it was because they could both use the nights rest. Mostly it was that she had other plans for him. Her feelings had changed a lot in five days. She led him naked back to their camp and spread a blanket on the semi-dry grass under the canvas. He lay beside her and they pulled the blanket over them. It was getting colder after the front, but neither felt the temperatures cooling. They looked into each others eyes, and neither was tired. Seth felt her in his arms, her soft breasts tight against his chest, and then he felt his erection press into her belly. She shuddered and he knew she felt it but she wiggled against him. His lips moved to hers and for the first time, they kissed. That first kiss was long and passionate, a release of all the tension, the pain, the fear, and the grief. It was an exchange of trust, an acknowledgment of the feelings they had begun to share. It was more than a kiss. Their tongues reached for each other as their arms pulled them closer, tighter. He felt her, drank in the earthy smell of her hair, the soft feel of her skin. He heard her breath, coming faster, as was his. His hands traced her spine and she shivered in his arms. Her arms pulled him tight against her. They broke the kiss and looked into each others eyes, sharing things that no words could ever express. There was no need to speak, their eyes, their bodies did all the talking. His lips kissed her face as her hand reached for him. He felt her hand wrap around his penis and he jumped. He had never been touched by anyone else and her soft grip was electric. Seth felt the electric shock waves rush through him. His cock pulsed in her hand. He had touched her before, held her before. He had known the feel of her naked skin against his, but this time was different. This time when he touched her skin, thrills went through him. He broke the kiss and leaned back to look at her. His eyes drank in the sight of her, the soft curves of her body as if it was the first time he had ever looked at her. Her large breasts were familiar to his eye, but he saw them in a new way, a way that thrilled him like he had never known before. Keezheekoni felt his eyes looking at her, she felt the newness of his familiar gaze and it warmed her. She felt the warm wetness rush to her loins, now filled with a burning desire for him. Her eyes locked on his, reading the need in Seth's gaze. She felt his hand reach out for her, touching her breasts and fire filled her soul. She gripped his cock tighter, the blazing desire was passed to him through the touch. She pulled him to her as her lips met his. This kiss passionate, burning through them. She wanted him, wanted him NOW. A full day of thinking about this, him, knowing without words that she would be his first, had set her on fire. She tugged on his cock and he followed the pull. His body was over hers. Her hand guided him to her entrance. She felt the touch of his cock and her back arched, trying to draw him in. Seth felt his cock press against her warm wetness, the touch smooth, warm, exciting, and totally indescribable. He felt her adjust herself to invite him in. He needed no more encouragement. His first thrust was awkward, but enthusiastic. He buried himself in her in one lunge. He felt the warm tightness of her as her pussy gripped him in slick wonder. His eyes opened wide in an unseeing gaze as a gasp of pleasure escaped his lips. Her hands urged him fully into her, then gently pushed him away. Her hips moved and he matched her rhythm. He was lost in the wonder of her. The sensations floating through him, filling him, obliterating all the old feelings of despair. All he felt was the joy of life. The wonder of her. The throbbing of her pussy. There was only the two of them. There was no world gone mad. His world, their world, consisted only of their touch. The intensity surprised Keezheekoni. Seth was not her first, but he was the first that she had felt like this with. She jambed her hips up to meet him as her head twisted from one side to the other, beyond her will. The first intense wave of pleasure started in her belly and washed over her. She fought the urge to scream with that first flash of orgasm, she lost the fight. Her pussy convulsed around him as that first tidal wave washed over her, then it spasmed again as another wave hit her. The power of it beyond anything she had felt before. Seth felt her body grip his, heard her scream and he could stand it no more. He felt the pressure build. He jambed himself into her as his lungs sucked in air like it would be his last breath, and then it all exploded. The breath came rushing from him in an explosive gasp as his penis felt like an exploding balloon bursting into her. He gasped for breath as his eyes watched her. Her head was still flopping from side to side and he instinctively kept thrusting, until her movements had stopped and her eyes focused on his. Her hips grew still and slowly a hint of a smile crossed her face. He sagged to her as his lips kissed hers. Her arms went around him, pulling him softly to her. This kiss more tender but no shorter. They both felt him shrinking inside her. He rolled off her to prop himself on one elbow as he looked at her. He was surprised by her wetness, by his own. His eyes saw only a beautiful woman. He was filled with peace. For the moment, the pain of his brother's death was forgotten, there were no images of dead red coats, there was only the beauty of this naked woman. There was a softness in his feelings, was it love? Was this what sex was like? Every time? "Keezheekoni, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen." He told her as his hand reached out to touch her soft flat belly. A half smile bent the corners of his mouth upward. She heard her name, the soft sound of it on his lips warmed her, but the meaning of the rest of his words were lost. Still she understood him and her face lit up in a smile that warmed him. "Thank you Seth, you were wonderful!" She basked in the warm afterglow. 1750 He understood "thank you" and his name, but the other words were just sounds to him, still her smile told him all he needed to know. Her hand touched his on her belly. He understood the message. She was his and he could touch her anyway he wished. He was happy with the feel of her skin. For the first time, Keezheekoni felt the brisk air. She pulled a blanket over them both and her eyes sparkled into his. They drifted off to sleep, the first truly peaceful sleep that Seth had known for weeks. Pleasant images were floating through Keezheekoni's unconscious as she lingered dreamily at the edge of awakening. She felt his hands roaming over her body and she floated to the edge of waking up. The touch of his hand tracing the shape of her face was delightful and then she felt it move over her neck to her shoulder. That strong hand cupped her breast and then glided down her belly. She felt him running his fingers through her pubic hair. Her eyes opened and she was looking into his smiling face. His touch was pleasant, but not where her building fires wanted him to caress. Her hand found his and guided it to her pussy. His finger slid easily into her and she was instantly wet. He was still missing the spot. One hand opened herself up for him and the other moved his hand until it hit her clit. She jumped at the touch. Seth had not even known that a woman had a clit, but that lurch and the feel of the nub taught him. He was a quick learner. He realized immediately that she needed lubrication and he had just discovered the best source. His wet finger rubbed her and she began to moan and move under his touch. A slow smile crossed his face as he played with, pleasured her body. He saw her glazed brown eyes look into his and he felt the connection, felt the desire in her. Her hand left his and went to his face, pulling him to her. Their lips met in a passionate kiss as their tongues reached out to each other as her hands caressed the back of his head. She felt his erection hit her in the hip as he laid beside her. She turned to face him as they kissed. The fire built in them both. They began to breathe faster as the flames of desire threatened to consume them both. Her hand found him hard and ready. She pushed him onto his back and moved over him. Seth watched her. Strange feelings filled him. Prudent English/American society never spoke a breath of sex. He had no idea that a woman could be on top. The one thing he knew was that this woman wanting him, excited him. He watched her move over him. His eyes going from her face to where her pussy was slowly sliding down his cock. Keezheekoni slid down his pole slowly, enjoying each delicious bit of him, enjoying his eyes on hers and thrilling to the look on his face as his gaze shifted to their joining. When all of him was inside her, she leaned forward to kiss him as she slowly rocked on his cock. His lips kissed hers as he wrapped his arms around her waist, rocking her gently. This time it was slower, more loving than passionate. This pleasure different but just as strong as the first time. It was slow and delicious instead of urgent and strong. "Ohhhh God!" was all he could mutter around her kiss. She heard the words and while she didn't know what the words meant... she knew what he meant and a thrill went through her. The heat hit her, building slowly from her pussy and washing slowly over her, wave after wave of slow orgasm, each bigger than the wave before. It lasted for long wonderful minutes until those waves reached monster intensity and crashed over her. She was lost to the exploding intensity. She felt his hips buck and the blast of his seed splash her insides. The feelings washed her away, crashing, exploding in her mind. She felt him go limp and then the last tsunami blasted her soul and she collapsed on top of him. Neither made a single sound besides the gasping for breath. She laid her head on his strong shoulder and sighed in contentment. They held each other for an hour or more, neither making a sound both thinking the same thing. "I wish I could talk to you!" Finally she stirred. It was already late in the day and she had much to do before darkness set in. She had been so busy with the deer, that she had not gathered anything else to eat. The sun was very low in the sky and there was little time left before it would be too dark to see. She smiled at Seth and kissed him softly one more time. Then she got up and took his hand. She led him back to the cold water of Lake Michigan. The brisk air was already cooling him and he cringed at the thought of the frigid water, but knew that they both had to be cleaned. She had brought a small piece of woolen fabric with her and cleaned herself off. Seth watched her go ankle deep in the water, trying not to join her. She came back with the wet cloth and he smiled at her. Keezheekoni snuggled her body close to his side as she washed his penis. His cock reacted to her touch, springing to life. Keezheekoni giggled. "Oh no you don't. Enough is enough, at least for now!" Seth gave her a sly smile. "See what you do to me?" Neither understood the other's words, both understood what the other meant and they both giggled. He followed her like a lost puppy dog, admiring her beautiful butt. He sighed when she put her clothes on but he was quick to follow suit. It was getting cold in the early spring. It was growing dark when Keezheekoni returned from gathering edible things. Seth had already started the fire and had a large piece of meat roasting over it. She took over the cooking duties as Seth watched her. It was a whole new world for Seth and it was all this beautiful woman's doing. Floods of new feelings flowed through him. It had been almost two months since life had been tolerable, almost a year since it had truly been good, yet looking at her, everything was fine. He felt a warm glow and wondered if it was love. For the first time in memory, he was at peace. He knew that he should not feel safe, should not be relaxed. All the dangers of the woods were still lurking in those trees and the dangers of nature and man awaited them on the water. The threats to them were washed clean by the warm feelings he felt for her. The fresh venison was the best he had ever eaten. He ate a few sea biscuits and some of what she had brought and his belly was full and he was happy. He watched her eat and felt that wash of peace once more and wished he could talk to her. "Eat good. Keezheekoni cook good." He told her in her language. Keezheekoni smiled. "Thank you. Seth good hunt." She tried to reply in English. He giggled some. Pronunciation be damned, grammar be damned, they understood each other even if their language skills needed work. He wanted to express deeper thoughts and for that one needed more words. Seth wasn't really thinking of the future. He wasn't going home anymore, he was just going east. Suddenly home was anywhere this girl was. His worry was that she would leave. He didn't even know why she was with him. How did one ask? Keezheekoni looked at his face, watching the thoughts go through his head and she wondered what he was thinking. Wished she could talk to him. Seth took a scorched and still smoking, but not burning, stick from the fire and thought for a long time. Then he drew a line in the dirt. She watched him and watched intently what he was drawing,wondering what he wanted to say or ask. He made seven hash marks across the line. Over each he drew a circle. Below the line he drew a crude canoe and at the first mark, two stick figures and then repeated the two figures at the last mark. Seth held up two fingers. With the other hand he pointed at one and said "Seth". Then he pointed at the other and said "Keezheekoni" and he crossed his fingers and pointed at the last mark. Then he drew the line further, till he ran out of bare dirt and made many more cross hatches. He pointed at the last and crossed his fingers again. Then he looked at her and raised his eyebrows in question. She looked at the drawing and then at his face and then back to the drawing. What was he asking? Then she understood. He was asking if she would leave him. Silly man, she had cast her lot with him. Keezheekoni took the stick from his hand and stood. She bent over the end of his line and drew it on into the leaf covered earth... on and on for several steps and paused and then drug the stick for several more steps. She crossed her fingers and said their names. A huge smile crossed his face. She meant forever. The thought warmed him and his huge smile became ever bigger. He went to her and pulled her into his arms. They both knew this was the beginning of them, inseparable, a team. Two against the wilderness and the world.