old woman finally succeeded in waking Jesse. Motioning for her to follow, she scooped up the baby and left the tepee. Jesse followed the old woman to the nearby creek where she watched as the woman unwrapped the infant and bathed him. After the bath, the firm little body was massaged with leaves. The old woman pointed to a nearby weed. Jesse pulled off a leaf. Instantly, it gave off a sweet, pungent fragrance.
When the woman had finished with the baby, she replenished the diaper lining with tufts of milkweed fluff, re-wrapped him in the fawnskin diaper, and gave him to Jesse. The fragrance of the wild plant hung on the air. Jesse snuggled the infant in her arms, longing for Jacob’s smiling blue eyes and happy greeting.
The old woman watched carefully. She saw Jesse’s wistful smile as the gray eyes blinked back tears. The old woman patted Jesse’s arm gently.
The infant nuzzled to be fed and Jesse complied, sitting at the water’s edge, oblivious to the old one’s comings and goings. When the child’s hunger abated, Jesse heard footsteps behind her. She looked up to see the old one spreading an elkskin shift on a serviceberry bush nearby. Moccasins were set below the dress.
Jesse leaned over to see her reflection in the water and was horrified by what met her gaze. Her face was filthy, her stringy hair caked with dust.
Old One took the baby, and Jesse knelt at the water’s edge, dipping her hands into the current and splashing her face with the cool water.
Stepping into the stream, she waded to a spot where overhanging bushes afforded some privacy and sighed as she fumbled to unfasten her wet buttons and stays. Cool water rushed over her skin. She scrubbed her hair vigorously and crept back near the bank to quickly don the clean shift.
Wading back to retrieve her own clothing, she rinsed it as best she could and spread the multitude of petticoats out to dry in the sun.
Well, Father, she thought, here I am, little Jesse King… Indian maiden. She grinned at the ridiculous picture she would make dressed in the elkskin dress the old one had brought. Still, she was grateful for anything clean, and she welcomed the comfort of the garment. With no stays squeezing in her waist and no petticoats catching on the grasses as they walked back to the tepee, Jesse felt pounds lighter.
Back in the tepee, the old one produced a strange sort of comb made from quills. She watched Jesse struggle with it for a few moments and then took it from the inexperienced hands and patiently combed the long, thick hair until it hung straight and silken.
Old One said something again, and made motions for Jesse to braid her hair. The task completed, Jesse quickly exited the tepee and ran to the edge of the stream to look once again at herself. She chuckled at the strange woman who appeared in the water. Her skin was white, her eyes were still gray, but the red hair was braided neatly and hung down her shoulders. The soft tawny color of the dress she wore made her hair glow.
Well, now, Lord, you know the number of the hairs upon my head… so you must be able to recognize me, even in this unbelievable garb. Jesse’s calico dress and petticoats still lay spread across the bushes. Women began to congregate and exclaim over the petticoats. Jesse was horrified to watch them help themselves to whatever struck their fancy. She had intended to keep her clothes but, unable to communicate, and afraid to defend her possessions, she watched the pieces disappear, one by one, into the tepees of the other women.
Supper—stew cooked over the tepee fire—was taken in silence by the two women. The baby’s father made no appearance. “Be not afraid” seemed to be whispered by the wind as Jesse settled onto her buffalo skin pallet that night. The baby who was not Jacob snuggled close, and Jesse slept soundly.
After breakfast the next morning, Old One strapped the infant’s cradle board to Jesse’s back. Jesse followed her obediently outside the
When the woman had finished with the baby, she replenished the diaper lining with tufts of milkweed fluff, re-wrapped him in the fawnskin diaper, and gave him to Jesse. The fragrance of the wild plant hung on the air. Jesse snuggled the infant in her arms, longing for Jacob’s smiling blue eyes and happy greeting.
The old woman watched carefully. She saw Jesse’s wistful smile as the gray eyes blinked back tears. The old woman patted Jesse’s arm gently.
The infant nuzzled to be fed and Jesse complied, sitting at the water’s edge, oblivious to the old one’s comings and goings. When the child’s hunger abated, Jesse heard footsteps behind her. She looked up to see the old one spreading an elkskin shift on a serviceberry bush nearby. Moccasins were set below the dress.
Jesse leaned over to see her reflection in the water and was horrified by what met her gaze. Her face was filthy, her stringy hair caked with dust.
Old One took the baby, and Jesse knelt at the water’s edge, dipping her hands into the current and splashing her face with the cool water.
Stepping into the stream, she waded to a spot where overhanging bushes afforded some privacy and sighed as she fumbled to unfasten her wet buttons and stays. Cool water rushed over her skin. She scrubbed her hair vigorously and crept back near the bank to quickly don the clean shift.
Wading back to retrieve her own clothing, she rinsed it as best she could and spread the multitude of petticoats out to dry in the sun.
Well, Father, she thought, here I am, little Jesse King… Indian maiden. She grinned at the ridiculous picture she would make dressed in the elkskin dress the old one had brought. Still, she was grateful for anything clean, and she welcomed the comfort of the garment. With no stays squeezing in her waist and no petticoats catching on the grasses as they walked back to the tepee, Jesse felt pounds lighter.
Back in the tepee, the old one produced a strange sort of comb made from quills. She watched Jesse struggle with it for a few moments and then took it from the inexperienced hands and patiently combed the long, thick hair until it hung straight and silken.
Old One said something again, and made motions for Jesse to braid her hair. The task completed, Jesse quickly exited the tepee and ran to the edge of the stream to look once again at herself. She chuckled at the strange woman who appeared in the water. Her skin was white, her eyes were still gray, but the red hair was braided neatly and hung down her shoulders. The soft tawny color of the dress she wore made her hair glow.
Well, now, Lord, you know the number of the hairs upon my head… so you must be able to recognize me, even in this unbelievable garb. Jesse’s calico dress and petticoats still lay spread across the bushes. Women began to congregate and exclaim over the petticoats. Jesse was horrified to watch them help themselves to whatever struck their fancy. She had intended to keep her clothes but, unable to communicate, and afraid to defend her possessions, she watched the pieces disappear, one by one, into the tepees of the other women.
Supper—stew cooked over the tepee fire—was taken in silence by the two women. The baby’s father made no appearance. “Be not afraid” seemed to be whispered by the wind as Jesse settled onto her buffalo skin pallet that night. The baby who was not Jacob snuggled close, and Jesse slept soundly.
After breakfast the next morning, Old One strapped the infant’s cradle board to Jesse’s back. Jesse followed her obediently outside the