Spanish Bit Saga, Volume Two: A Classic Western Series by Don Coldsmith

Author:Don Coldsmith [Coldsmith, Don]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781647345952
Publisher: Wolfpack Publishing
Published: 2022-01-10T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The next day was gray and dreary, like the spirits of the travelers who camped at the spring.

Plum Leaf insisted that she was all right, but the cough and shortness of breath worsened. Once in the night, Star had awakened to find the other woman shaking with a chill. Her teeth chattered uncontrollably, though the night was actually quite warm.

Star longed for the advice of her uncle Looks Far. He would know of treatment for this strange malady. There would be something, some plant to use, some song or incantation, that would make her well.

Even as she thought this, the girl wondered if Looks Far could help, if he were here. His medicine was of the prairie, with different plants and herbs. Each area must have its own medicine, she reflected. Strange, she had never thought of that.

If then, they could only transport the sick woman to the Sacred Hills, where Looks Far would heal her. Star gazed into the fire, lost in thought.

"What are you thinking, little one?" Traveler interrupted.

"It is nothing, Uncle," answered the girl, using the People's term of respect. "I only wished that we could take Plum Leaf to my kinsman, Looks Far. He is a skilled medicine man."

Interest lighted the sad, tired face of Traveler.

"Where are your people?"

"I do not know. They move around the prairie, you know."

"Yes. How far to your country?"

The girl shrugged.

"Maybe twenty sleeps. But then; we would still have to find them."

"Too far," nodded Traveler. "It would be no closer than her own people. I thought of turning back. But it is too far. We cannot carry her."

"Are there other tribes near here?"

"Yes, but I do not know where."

"Uncle, do you know of the plants in this forest? What would they use?"

Traveler shrugged helplessly.

"This place is not my home; the plants and trees are different. And I know little of such things, anyway."

Pale Star had never seen him so depressed. His whole attitude seemed hopeless. Surely something could be done.

"Do you recognize any plants at all?"

Traveler shook his head sadly.

"None for this."

Star was desperate. She tried to think of a similar situation among the People. What had been done?

Dimly, she remembered a time when she herself had been very ill. She remembered her mother cradling her in strong arms and feeding her broth with a horn spoon. Then, later, the rolled bites of pounded hackberries mixed with buffalo fat.

She had seen hackberry trees on the trail. Could any still hold a few dried fruits from last season? Or would another berry of some sort suffice?

"Uncle," she said, "I have a thought. Something used among my people. I will make soup, and then we must find some hackberries, or something like that. Are there others here? I want to pound them with fat."

She did not specify buffalo fat. She knew that would be better, but there would be none. Maybe the fat of a deer would work.

Traveler brightened.

"Yes," he said, "I had forgotten. My people use the fruit of the rose for this.

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