Buffalo Trail by Jeff Guinn

Author:Jeff Guinn
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2015-09-14T16:00:00+00:00

SEVENTEEN

Quanah was arguing with Wickeah when the Kiowa rode into the Quahadi camp and stood outside Quanah’s tipi, calling for him to come out and talk with them. He was grateful for the interruption. The argument was a foolish one and entirely the fault of his wife. Wickeah always expected a great deal of Quanah’s time and attention, so she bitterly resented his trips from the village with Isatai. Ever since he’d returned from the visit to the Cheyenne camp, she’d been particularly irritable, claiming that he never thought about her anymore. It was true that he was constantly preoccupied. He had to think of some way to make the Kiowa and Cheyenne believe that if they fought together with the People and drove off the whites, then afterward they would be considered equals. And, as well, Isatai was a constant concern. The fat man truly believed that he was the spokesman of the spirits, and was liable to say foolish things if Quanah wasn’t constantly on hand to stop him. In particular, he kept insisting that no one kill any skunks, because skunks were precious to the spirits. Such prattling detracted from the dignified Spirit Messenger pose that Quanah wanted Isatai to maintain in public. If he gabbled about skunks too much, everyone might be reminded why Isatai had once been the camp laughingstock.

Collectively, these concerns were already too much for anyone but the strongest man to bear, and Quanah was doing his best. How dare Wickeah add to his burdens? Maybe he often did imagine himself with Mochi instead of Wickeah when they coupled in their blankets, and perhaps he seldom spoke to her anymore because he was so worn down from his other responsibilities. She was his wife and should sympathize. He told Wickeah that it was her obligation to make him feel better, not worse. But she turned that around and insisted that husbands had to make their wives happy too. She was loudly insisting on this when the Kiowa arrived.

Quanah called to them, “I’ll be right there.” Though he had no idea what they wanted, he was relieved to have an excuse to escape Wickeah. She was a very stubborn woman and could argue for hours when given the opportunity, especially since she knew her husband was tenderhearted and would never beat her.

“Let the Kiowa wait,” she snapped. “Put your wife first for a change.”

“Enough,” Quanah said, trying to sound commanding. Wickeah, fists jammed on her hips, glared as he ducked down through the tipi’s entrance flap.

Five Kiowa awaited Quanah. He recognized one of them. Iseeo was a hotheaded young warrior who often counted impressive coup in battle. “Welcome,” Quanah said. “Do you bring a message from your chief, Lone Wolf? Are you ready to join us in the great fight to come?”

“No, we have news of white hunters who have come into our land,” Iseeo said. “We thought we should inform the Comanche’s Spirit Messenger at once, and learn his thoughts about it.”

“He’s communicating with the spirits right now,” Quanah said carefully.

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