Chapter 24: Marie

To take her mind off her pain as she walked naked on a leash behind the Indian on his pony, Marie thought about her current lot.

A fine fix I'm in now--naked, cut and bruised, torn and bleeding, and hurting all over, especially my feet. I don't think I can walk much further. But if they don't stop, I don't have much choice, they'll just drag me.

And they would drag her; she was right about that. Indians usually had little or no respect for captives and even less if that captive was a woman. Her nakedness was an object lesson, meant to impress this fact upon her. Marie grieved for Ned and Sarah, but she was nearly devastated by the loss of Jesse and what he had suffered. Marie also pondered her immediate fate.

What will happen to me now? Jesse and I have heard lots of stories about the Comanche and their cruelty in our short time in Comancheria. The truth of that lies on the ground back at our cabin. What does this Indian want of me, a slave? A wife? A toy? Will I ever get out of this?

Only her iron will to survive kept her going.

The raiding party of Indians didn't seem to be in any particular hurry. They evidently felt there would be no immediate pursuit. It could be days or weeks before anyone stumbled on the carnage back at the isolated cabin and the Indians were aware of this fact.

The Indians had also collected a sizable amount of plunder. There was, first of all, Marie, now a captive slave. But there were also guns and horses and lots of other odds and ends the Indians decided to take.

The pace was a fast walk at first and Maria had difficulty keeping up on her tender bare feet. The rough soil and pebbles quickly tore the soles of Marie's feet to ribbons. Eventually the pain numbed her feet and when the Indian leader slowed the pace after several hours, it was somewhat easier for Marie.

She stumbled a lot and was jerked forward by her captor every time it happened. Her obstinacy before they left the homestead had earned her a number of slaps, kicks, and lashes with a riding quirt or bow. The bruises and cuts that resulted were caked with dried blood. One good blow to her face with a heavy fist had left her with a black eye and a badly bruised left cheek. Marie learned the hard way that minimal cooperation was going to be necessary, just to survive. But she didn't have to like it and that attitude still showed in her demeanor.

Nearing sundown, the leader of the raiding party signaled a halt to make camp for the night, pointing to a small copse of trees along a stream several hundred yards to the left. Marie would later learn his name to be Runs With Horses.

The little group rode into the trees and slid off their horses. Marie's captor took her to a nearby tree. He retied her hands in front of her body then securely to the tree on a short leash and left her to herself. Others went busily about starting a small campfire and gathering wood enough to keep it going for some time. Another of the group took the horses and picketed them a short distance away.

Two of the group went off in different directions and were gone for an hour or so. They each came back with a dead rabbit.

That isn't much food for fourteen Indians and one captive! Then, as Marie watched in astonishment, one Indian pulled a dead snake from one of the packs and began to skin it.

Surely not, thought Marie. They really don't plan to cook and eat that thing, do they?

Yet that is exactly what they did. The gutted snake and rabbits were cut into pieces and put on sticks to be roasted piecemeal in the fire!

Marie thought the Indians smelled bad enough as it was. Their hair and bodies were all greased up with something that did not smell good at ll. Marie watched in disgusted fascination as the Indians devoured nearly all the meat and one small stick of pemmican that had mysteriously appeared.

She thought, Where's mine? Are they going to starve me?

Her answer came a few minutes later when one of the Indians, her captor, whom she would soon learn was called Red Feather, tossed a very small piece of meat that landed on the ground between her bare legs.

It was a piece of the snake! With disgust, Marie picked up the small morsel, now coated with dirt. Her ravenous hunger overrode her sense of disgust, and with a grimace she put the meat in her mouth and chewed once or twice before swallowing the small bit of food. The meat didn't taste all the bad if she overlooked the dirt on it.

Marie sorely needed a drink of water and she had an overpowering need to pee. Before she could decide how to communicate this, one of the surly Indians ambled over her way.

God, now what? thought Marie.

The Indian whom Marie later learned was called Angry Bear, squatted on his heels beside her and touched her hair and then a breast before Marie managed to knock his hand away.

Marie's hands were tied at the wrist and they were together in one big fist. As the Indian leaned in closer to glare at her, she brought those hands up from the ground fast and hard enough so that when she caught the man under the chin, she toppled him over backward in the dust! That brought about a storm of laughter from his companions.