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Authors: Tracie Peterson
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” Hannah said softly.
“Your people are always at war with the Numunuu.” He did nothing to draw the other warriors to his side but instead looked at his son and spoke in their language.
Hannah couldn’t help but wonder what the conversation entailed. When Night Bear extended the sweet roll to his father, Hannah very nearly grinned. The boy had been very fond of the cinnamon-and-sugared roll. His father took the offering and sampled it. He nodded with a grunt and several words that Hannah couldn’t understand.
Looking at Night Bear, Hannah could see that his strength was giving out. She turned to the chief. “Your son is injured. He is lucky to be alive—the blow to his head was quite bad.”
The Comanche studied her, as if trying to understand all that she had said. William quickly translated. The chief nodded and motioned his son forward. Night Bear extended his right arm and his father pulled him up and onto the horse’s back.
Night Bear all but fell against his father in exhaustion. The chief looked at Hannah once again. She smiled, hoping he would see that they were sincere in their willingness to be at peace.
“You are not like most of your people.” He held her gaze a moment longer. “We will leave you in peace.”
“Ura,” Hannah said, barely able to draw breath.
The man smiled ever so slightly and looked past Hannah to William. He spoke in the Comanche language, then turned his horse and headed back to the warriors on the hill. Hannah watched him rejoin the others. They conversed for a moment before turning and heading their mounts to the north.
William came to stand beside her, and Hannah asked, “What did he say to you?”
“He Who Walks in Darkness said you were the bravest white woman he’d ever known.” William shook his head. “I think you’re the most foolish.”
Hannah bristled at this. “I was only trying to help.”
“You could just as easily have been killed. The Comanche were here to get the boy. They didn’t care who they had to kill to do so. Night Bear is the only son of the chief. He was on his very first raid. They would have killed all of us to ensure that boy’s safety.”
Hannah put her hands on her hips. Her fear was quickly replaced by anger. “But they didn’t. They realized we meant them no harm. I wanted to show them I was willing to risk death in order to prove to them that I meant to be at peace with them.” She felt rather smug. “The way I see it, it worked.”
“You haven’t lived long in this part of the country, and at this rate you won’t last long.” William shook his head and turned to walk away. “Miss Dandridge, you are a dangerous woman.”
Hannah watched him walk away and turned to Berto. “Your Mr. Barnett is a strange man.”
“He is a good man,” Berto said. “He was afraid for you. The Comanche are not, how you say, peace people. They want back their land—their hunting grounds. They are not happy with the whites.”
“But they have made the peace with us,” Hannah replied. “That should be an encouragement. That should prove that they are capable of negotiating peace with other whites.”
“Miss Hannah, it is not possible, because the whites will not be at peace with the Comanche. Your people hate their people just as much. You know it is true.”
Hannah did know this but hated to admit it. She wanted to believe that something special had happened there. Perhaps the start of peace in the entire territory. Wouldn’t it be a marvel if that were the case? Wouldn’t it be amazing if one act of kindness and mercy led to the settlement of the Indian wars?
To Hannah’s surprise, William stopped and came back to face her. He pointed his finger directly in her face. “You were lucky. That’s all. It wasn’t a matter of bravery or wisdom. What you did was foolish and could have resulted in the death of everyone here. You think yourself clever for having memorized a couple of overheard Comanche words. You probably
“Your people are always at war with the Numunuu.” He did nothing to draw the other warriors to his side but instead looked at his son and spoke in their language.
Hannah couldn’t help but wonder what the conversation entailed. When Night Bear extended the sweet roll to his father, Hannah very nearly grinned. The boy had been very fond of the cinnamon-and-sugared roll. His father took the offering and sampled it. He nodded with a grunt and several words that Hannah couldn’t understand.
Looking at Night Bear, Hannah could see that his strength was giving out. She turned to the chief. “Your son is injured. He is lucky to be alive—the blow to his head was quite bad.”
The Comanche studied her, as if trying to understand all that she had said. William quickly translated. The chief nodded and motioned his son forward. Night Bear extended his right arm and his father pulled him up and onto the horse’s back.
Night Bear all but fell against his father in exhaustion. The chief looked at Hannah once again. She smiled, hoping he would see that they were sincere in their willingness to be at peace.
“You are not like most of your people.” He held her gaze a moment longer. “We will leave you in peace.”
“Ura,” Hannah said, barely able to draw breath.
The man smiled ever so slightly and looked past Hannah to William. He spoke in the Comanche language, then turned his horse and headed back to the warriors on the hill. Hannah watched him rejoin the others. They conversed for a moment before turning and heading their mounts to the north.
William came to stand beside her, and Hannah asked, “What did he say to you?”
“He Who Walks in Darkness said you were the bravest white woman he’d ever known.” William shook his head. “I think you’re the most foolish.”
Hannah bristled at this. “I was only trying to help.”
“You could just as easily have been killed. The Comanche were here to get the boy. They didn’t care who they had to kill to do so. Night Bear is the only son of the chief. He was on his very first raid. They would have killed all of us to ensure that boy’s safety.”
Hannah put her hands on her hips. Her fear was quickly replaced by anger. “But they didn’t. They realized we meant them no harm. I wanted to show them I was willing to risk death in order to prove to them that I meant to be at peace with them.” She felt rather smug. “The way I see it, it worked.”
“You haven’t lived long in this part of the country, and at this rate you won’t last long.” William shook his head and turned to walk away. “Miss Dandridge, you are a dangerous woman.”
Hannah watched him walk away and turned to Berto. “Your Mr. Barnett is a strange man.”
“He is a good man,” Berto said. “He was afraid for you. The Comanche are not, how you say, peace people. They want back their land—their hunting grounds. They are not happy with the whites.”
“But they have made the peace with us,” Hannah replied. “That should be an encouragement. That should prove that they are capable of negotiating peace with other whites.”
“Miss Hannah, it is not possible, because the whites will not be at peace with the Comanche. Your people hate their people just as much. You know it is true.”
Hannah did know this but hated to admit it. She wanted to believe that something special had happened there. Perhaps the start of peace in the entire territory. Wouldn’t it be a marvel if that were the case? Wouldn’t it be amazing if one act of kindness and mercy led to the settlement of the Indian wars?
To Hannah’s surprise, William stopped and came back to face her. He pointed his finger directly in her face. “You were lucky. That’s all. It wasn’t a matter of bravery or wisdom. What you did was foolish and could have resulted in the death of everyone here. You think yourself clever for having memorized a couple of overheard Comanche words. You probably
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