Continuing with "Struggles With Ropes":

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    With intense caution, Quiet Waters drew the curtains over the windows before she lit the oil lamp.  Her sharp features and high, beautiful cheekbones were bathed in a struggling glow of light.  She looked first to her younger sister, Black Fox, and then to the woman in man’s cowboy garb struggling on the floor next to Black Fox.  Surely she was the wife of the owner of this white man’s cattle ranch.  The man must be away, perhaps on the large cattle drive they had seen headed south earlier.
    [“She was certainly no match for the two of us!”] Black Fox said proudly in her native Lakota. [“Look at her struggle.”]
    [“She seems to be a fierce one,”] Quiet Waters replied with considerably less pride. [“With good reason, I think.”]
    Black Fox snorted [“What reason would she have?  She is the one on our land!”]
    [“And we are the ones in her hearth.  You are young yet, Black Fox.  You do not yet understand that there are many sides to a thing like truth.  We are the invaders at this moment and with the history of our two peoples, it is not surprising that she is angry and frightened.  You would be, too, if she came into your hearth and bound you.”]
    Quiet Waters approached Destiny as non-threateningly as she could, a blanket in hand.  Destiny eyed her warily, prepared to defend herself in spite of being hampered by the leather thongs around her limbs.  Instead, the Sioux maiden laid the blanket down next to the wary blonde and gently eased her over onto it.  The blanket was certainly an improvement over the cold, hard floor and, though still suspicious, Destiny sensed now that she was in no mortal danger.
    There was a noise outside and both Indians tensed visibly.  Quiet Waters scampered to the window and peeked carefully through the drawn curtain.  Destiny watched her stare into the night, looking for something, then turned to the other.  Black Fox noticed her watching and gestured for quiet in as intimidating a manner as she could manage.  Being a pretty, but small woman barely eighteen, however, didn’t lend much credulity to her gesture.
    Satisfied that nothing threatened them, Quiet Waters moved away from the window.   Black Fox was about to speak, but she was silenced by a motion.  The other woman gestured to the kitchen and her sister eagerly followed.  Left alone momentarily, Destiny tested the leather around her wrists.  It dug into her skin and chafed it raw.  Wincing, Destiny huffed through her nose and began to try to think of a way out.
    However, her thoughts veered toward her captors.  The two that held her were not there to rob or kill her; that was obvious.  They seemed to be on the run from something or someone.  Watching them eat from her stores in the kitchen told her that they had been on the run for some time, as did the dirt on their faces, their dresses and their moccasins.  Who were they running from, though, and was it a threat to her?
    Her thoughts were interrupted by Quiet Waters.  She emerged from the kitchen and Destiny followed her with her eyes the entire time.  The woman didn’t make any threatening moves, though.  She knelt down next to Destiny, with some dried beef and a cup of water in her hand.  The Indian gestured with her hands for Destiny to remain quiet, then pensively removed the gag from her mouth.  There was a pregnant moment when neither knew whether Destiny would try to shout out, but it passed and things calmed.
    Offered some of the food, the ranch mistress took it out of respect more than hunger.  She nodded toward the cup of water, because the gag had dried out her mouth terribly.  Destiny noticed the younger Indian had entered and was staring at the tableau with a puzzled look on her youthful face.
    [“Why are you wasting time feeding her?”] Black Fox asked. [“She would not do it for you.”]
    [“You do not know that, sister,”] Quiet Waters sighed. [“Not all of the whites are our enemies.  You would know this. . .”]
    [“If I were older, I know!”]
    Quiet Waters smiled knowingly, remembering back not too long ago to her own rebellious youth. [“I wonder what her name is?”]
    [“I do not know,”] Black Fox shrugged, oblivious to the fact it was a rhetorical question.  [“Why not call her ‘Struggles With Ropes’?”]
    “Why are you two here?” Destiny asked in a low voice, so as not to startle them and see the gag return.
    [“What does she say?”] Black Fox asked suspiciously.
    [“I do not know.  The contact I have had with the whites does not include learning their speech.  Perhaps she wishes to know why we are here.  It is what I would want to know.”]
    Thinking for a moment, Quiet Waters began to try to communicate with Destiny through gestures.  She pointed to herself and then to Black Fox, then pointed far off into the east with a wide, sweeping gesture.
    “You’re from the east,” Destiny replied.  “Yes, I thought you two were Sioux by the way you were dressed.”
    “Sioux,” Quiet Waters nodded, pointing to herself.
    “Lakota,” Black Fox corrected, using the preferred name of their nation.
    Quiet Waters then pointed to herself and then held the finger to the floor.  Her other hand walked up behind the finger and grabbed it.  She repeated the gesture when Destiny didn’t immediately understand, pointing to herself and Black Fox for added emphasis. 
    “You were taken?” guessed Destiny.  Quiet Waters looked on helplessly, unable to confirm the guess.
    She continued on, pointing to herself and her sister, then miming having her hands tied in front of her and being dragged behind a horse.  The rancher nodded her understanding.
    “Who took you?” Destiny asked.  “Whites?”
    It was a word Quiet Waters did know and she shook her head.
    [“Crow take some of our horses.  Crow also take me and my sister.  We would be forced to marry Crow man - - perhaps killed because we are Lakota.  Crow are our blood enemies.”] While she didn’t get most of it, Destiny could make out “Crow” and nodded.   
    “No wonder you’re so scared,” she said and even Black Fox could see the genuine sympathy in Destiny’s eyes.
    Then the haunted young Indian beauty pointed one finger into the floor and pointed to herself and Black Fox with her other hand, then used it to creep away from the pointing hand.
    “You escaped,” Destiny smiled, and her captors smiled in return.  She locked eyes with Quiet Waters and the two women communicated the non-verbal understanding that women had over the evil treatment they sometimes received at the hands of men.  At that moment, a tenuous bond formed between them that transcended their language and cultural barriers, as well as the straps that bound her.
    [“I think she understands, sister,”] Quiet Waters said. [“I do not think we need worry about her as an enemy.”]
    [“You’re not going to untie her, are you?”] Black Fox asked.  The older sister looked torn, wanting to trust the rancher, but fearing that she many not have communicated as well as she thought she had.
    [“We must rest before we can continue.  We will not put the gag back in, but - - we will keep her tied until we must leave.”]
    [“She will cry out!”] argued Black Fox.
    [“We will sleep next to her.  Should she cry out, we will replace the gag.  I do not think she will, though.”]
    Cutting off further argument, Quiet Waters turned to her captive and tried to gesture that they were to all go to sleep.  Destiny wiggled her bound hands out to the side, wanting to be untied, but the Indian shook her head sadly.  Then Quiet Waters placed her hand gently to the side of Destiny’s face and pleaded with her eyes for understanding.  Anger flared in Destiny’s eyes for a moment, but it quelled quickly.  She would just have to endure this for now.
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