Comanche Rose Read Online Free PDF Page A

child. "People come, make peace—no get food." The chief's hands moved, signing rapidly, then he insisted, "No got captive, only woman—she no captive." When Hap didn't respond, the chief's frustration erupted. "You tell him give food! Only got this many white woman!" he insisted forcefully, holding up one finger. "No more!"
    As light-headed as he was, Hap managed to guess that the Quaker agent was demanding the release of captives before he doled out rations. "You better take her in," he advised.
    "No take," Bull Calf declared adamantly.
    "You don't want the blue shirts to come, do you?"
    The chief shook his head. "No lock Bull Calf up like Satanta! You take—give Haworth. Tell 'um give food!"
    Now it was beginning to make sense. Ever since Haworth's predecessor had allowed Colonel Grierson to arrest Satanta, both Kiowas and Comanches were suspicious of the soldiers at Fort Sill. Bull Calf was wanting to avoid any confrontation by sending his captive in with Hap. And he was in no condition to take her. He wasn't even sure he could make it that far himself. It was taking all he had to keep from passing out then and there.
    "Yeah, well, I don't—"
    But the chief had already turned away, barking out something to a skinny squaw, who ducked behind the tipi. Returning his attention to Hap, he threw up his hands in disgust. "Woman no good to Bull Calf—bad spirit. You take. Bull Calf no want her," he insisted.
    Hap had to get out of there. He was shaking from a fever as much as from the cold. He nudged Old Red with his knee, but before the horse could move, the Indian had grabbed his bridle, stopping him. "No go," he declared forcefully.
    On the other side of Bull Calf's tipi, Little Hand hesitated, then lifted a tattered flap. "Saleaweah?" Then, "Saleaweah!"
    "Go away," Annie croaked.
    "Saleaweah!"
    This time there was anger in Little Hand's voice. She didn't want to come any closer. Annie rolled over and looked through the interior darkness to the lifted tipi flap, where she could see the sleet coming down almost sideways. Cold air rushed past her, blowing at the hide walls. Annie watched the Indian woman hesitate, then edge gingerly inside, still holding the flap, ready to flee. Her black eyes flitted around the circular room as though she expected to be seized at any moment by whatever possessed Annie.
    She picked up one of the rocks from the pile blocking a hole and threw it at Annie, striking her shoulder, shouting for her to get up, that Bull Calf wanted her outside. To make her point, she bent down for another stone, then dropped it when Annie sat up. Her broad, flat face broke into a broken-toothed grin as she changed her manner, speaking kindly now. Backing out through the flap, she beckoned as though coaxing a child to follow her.
    Though Annie was fully dressed, clad in an odd combination of fringed leggings and an oft-mended buckskin shirt pulled over a faded calico dress, she shivered as she stood. Picking up her tattered army blanket, she turned the bloodstained holes away from her and wrapped herself in it. Pulling it close, she followed after Little Hand unsteadily. Her limbs felt almost too weak to hold her.
    The wind peppered her face with tiny pellets of sleet as it blew between tipis. Beneath her frayed moccasins a thin layer of ice cracked like eggshells as she walked over it. Coming around the side of Bull Calf's lodge, she saw a knot of Comanches gathered around someone on horseback. Her breath caught and her heart pounded with the realization that it was a white man.
    He was looking at her, and she heard him mutter, "She looks like death warmed over."
    "She no sick, no hurt, only loco," Bull Calf declared defensively. "No hurt woman. Saleaweah," he said, beckoning to her. Turning back to the rider, he translated, "Woman Who Walks Far."
    As she passed them, women pulled their children into the shelter of their bodies and looked away. Warriors touched medicine sacks and amulets to protect themselves from