The Comanche Way

She also realized the Comanche attitude toward sex was both the same and different. It was the second night when she lay beside Running Fawn that she heard the woman in the nearest tipi moan and then gasp. She'd asked Running Fawn if the woman was ill. Running Fawn laughed quietly.

"Not sick, just feel good when husband make baby in her. You not make sound when that happen?"

"Well, I've never been with a man before, so I don't know."

Running Fawn chuckled.

"If man do right, you make same sound."

>>>--------->

By the morning of the third day she'd lived with Running Fawn and Towahwi, Melody knew she'd just barely touched the surface of Comanche life. She also knew that most of what she'd read was wrong.

Comanche women were not slaves to their husbands. They worked hard, harder than most white women she knew, but they did so as part of the partnership between a husband and his wife. The husband provided meat and defended her from any enemies. He also gave her children. She gave her husband a home and bore and raised his children.

Melody had learned that while divorce wasn't common, it was very easy to accomplish. If a husband didn't provide for his wife, all she had to do to divorce him was move back to her mother and father. If a wife didn't keep the home as expected, her husband had only to pick up his things and return to his mother and father. As far as the band was concerned, they were now divorced.

Melody knew she could write about those things, but what she really wanted was to talk with several Comanche women who were wives and mothers. Since most Comanche people didn't speak English, the only way to do that was for Running Fawn to act as an interpreter and that would take a lot longer.

Another conversation she really wanted to have if only to satisfy her own curiosity was why Running Fawn had stayed with the Comanche. In any of the battles between the Comanche and the Cavalry, it would have been easy for her to run up to a Cavalry solder and tell him she'd been captured and wanted to go home to her family. That she hadn't done so was a mystery that Melody couldn't get out of her head.

That morning, she told Running Fawn she needed to go back to Ft. Sill.

"I want to stay longer, but I need to telegraph my editor about what I want to do. I don't know if he'll agree or not, but either way, I want to come back. I still have a lot I want to learn about the Comanche."

Running Fawn asked Melody how she would get to Ft. Sill.

Melody smiled.

"I'll walk. I'll put on my other dress and walk there, and then I'll walk back."

Running Fawn shook her head.

"Comanche woman do that. You not Comanche woman yet. You not know way and you not know what hurt you on way. I talk to Towahwi."

An hour later, Melody found herself riding on a horse behind Towahwi and trying not to press her breasts into his back. Between holding on by squeezing her legs together and the movement of the horse, that was a difficult thing to do. It seemed as if with every step the horse made, she was jostled forward into Towahwi's back.

The other problem was just as embarrassing. She'd changed back into her long, cloth dress and she couldn't straddle the horse so she'd pulled it up almost to her waist. He knew if Towahwi looked down, he'd see her bare legs. She prayed he'd keep his word and not do anything to her.

Melody could just make out the gate to Ft. Sill in the distance when Towahwi stopped.

"You walk rest of way. Not good if soldier see you ride with Towahwi. I wait until you done, then take back to tipi."

Towahwi had slipped of the horse, helped her down, and then smiled.

"Not stay until sun go down. Maybe get lost."

Melody had walked to the gate and told the sentry who she was and why she was there. Then, she went to the telegraph office and sent a telegram to the St. Louis Post Dispatch. In the telegram, she told her editor that she hadn't learned enough to write an article he'd print, and would stay at Ft. Sill until she could.

It took almost an hour before the response came back. Her editor said he was fine with her staying at Ft. Sill, but he didn't have the budget to pay for her room and board. He also couldn't pay her until she gave him an article he could print.

Melody wasn't upset by her editor saying he couldn't pay for her room and board. She didn't need any money for that because she was going to stay with Running Fawn and Towahwi. It was a little upsetting that her editor wouldn't give her a salary while she was away, but she knew that was because he didn't consider her to be a real reporter. Male reporters were expected to work every day and they were paid a salary instead of being paid by the article. She was just a writer who wrote articles for women.

Still, Melody was happy. She now had free rein to do what she came all this way to do, that being to tell the women of St. Louis about the women of the Comanche.

When Melody walked back to the place where Towahwi had stopped, he was there waiting on her. He asked if she was ready to go back to the village and she said she was. Towahwi got on his horse and then offered Melody his hand. When she grasped it, he swung her up behind him, waited a few seconds to make sure she was settled, and then started for the village at a walk.

Just as on the ride to Ft. Sill, Melody found herself constantly bumping her breasts into Towahwi's back. When Towahwi's horse stepped into a shallow depression and stumbled a little, Melody was thrown forward. She grabbed the only thing she could grab and that was Towahwi.

He didn't say anything, and Melody was glad he didn't. She couldn't have answered him in an intelligent manner. Towahwi was bare-chested like he usually was, and when her hands touched his chest, she felt a wave of little shocks run up her arms.

It was like holding on to a tree, she thought, except a tree wouldn't be warm and have muscles that hardened like stone and then relaxed as Towahwi moved with the horse.

The other thing that confused her mind was that in order to hold on to Towahwi, she had to hold herself close enough to him that he had to feel her breasts pressing into his back. She was somewhat amazed that feeling her breasts against him wasn't at all unpleasant. In fact, it made her feel safer than she had felt on the trip from the village to Ft. Sill.

Only when they entered the village did Towahwi say anything. He swung one leg over the horse's withers and dropped to the ground, then helped Melody down. Once she was on her feet, he smiled.

"Ride horse good for white woman."

As Towahwi led his horse away, Melody was more confused than ever. She shouldn't have felt anything, but she did. What she thought she felt was what her mother told her she'd feel some day with a man. Her mother said when that day came, Melody would like being so close to him, but it wouldn't happen with just any man. It would only happen with a man Melody considered to be special.

Was that what she thought -- that Towahwi was special? Was he the man her mother had told her about? Melody shook her head. No, that couldn't be. She was an educated white woman. Towahwi was an uneducated Indian who up until only weeks before had been killing Cavalry soldiers.

And yet, there was something about Towahwi that made her feel safe. Melody couldn't explain that even to herself, but the feeling was there.

Melody walked back to Running Fawn's tipi and went inside. Running Fawn asked her if she was going to stay, and Melody smiled.

"Yes. I want to learn how to be a Comanche woman."

>>>--------->

As the days turned into weeks, and then the weeks turned into months, Melody made the transition from white newspaper reporter to Comanche woman. She learned the skills the Comanche women had developed over the centuries of following the buffalo herds.

She learned how to tan hides, though the hides were few and far between. The buffalo were all but gone, but Towahwi was able to kill several deer though the summer. When Melody sewed her first Comanche dress from two deer hides she'd tanned, she was proud.

She learned how to find and harvest the plants Comanche women used for food and dyes and for everyday medicines, and how to prepare those plants for their intended use.

Melody also learned enough of the Comanche language that she could talk with other women in the village. What she learned from them was that Comanche women had the same hopes and fears as the white women she'd known. They were happy when they became pregnant. They were deeply concerned when their children developed a cough and sought the village healer when their home remedies didn't work. They were proud when the son they'd born first rode a horse or when the daughter they'd born and taught made her first dress.

In short, what Melody learned was that Comanche women weren't much different than white women. They worked hard for their families and their families respected and loved them for that effort. The real difference was that Comanche women didn't have the technology white women used. It became easier to understand that as Melody learned more Comanche and as Running Fawn and Towahwi began to remember more English after listening to Melody.

Food was a constant worry for the Comanche women. Before, when they roamed the plains following the buffalo herds, the women knew where to find the roots and plants they used in cooking. On the reservation, some of those plants were still available, but after a few months of harvesting them, the supply dwindled.

The Comanche women knew if they picked the last plant there would be none for the coming year so they left enough to blossom and seed the next year's crop. What that meant though, was their meals became smaller.

That situation was made worse by the fact that the buffalo, the primary food source of the Comanche were almost gone due to hunting. Melody knew some of that hunting was for food for railroad crews, but she'd also heard from another reporter that much of it was just killing the buffalo to remove the food source of the Indian tribes and force the Comanche and other Indian tribes onto reservations. The husbands of the Comanche women could still hunt, but deer and antelope didn't furnish enough meat to eat now and still have enough left to dry for winter.

The US Government's answer to that was to supply beef to the Comanche. Melody knew that and thought it was an acceptable substitute until she saw the first cattle brought to the reservation.

She'd expected to see steers like she'd seen in the stockyards in St. Louis. Instead she saw aged milk cows with hip bones that stuck out and their ribs showing through their skin. There were a few steers and some bulls as well, but both were thin and emaciated looking.

Melody went with Running Fawn when the men of the Comanche slaughtered the cattle. Running Fawn looked at the carcasses and shook her head.

"One buffalo would make four of these cows. We would have a feast and still have meat to dry for winter. The drying racks would sag with all the meat and every wife would have more than enough to last through the winter. With these cattle, we will have to eat all the meat to keep from starving. Our men will have to kill deer and antelope to dry for winter."

Melody had been with Running Fawn and Towahwi for four months when she asked Running Fawn a question that had been rolling around in her head.

"Running Fawn, why does Towahwi not have a wife? There are several young girls who tell me they would like to be his wife."

Running Fawn smiled.

"It is up to the girl's father if she can marry a man. Usually he will agree if he gets enough horses or other gifts, but Towahwi is not just any Comanche man. He is half white. The men of the village made him their war chief because he is very brave and a good war leader, but no father would agree to let his daughter marry Towahwi."

"Then how did you marry Towahwi's father?"

Running Fawn shrugged.

"My Comanche father said I could."

Melody then asked the second question that she so far hadn't been able to answer.

"Did you love Towahwi's father?"

Running Fawn put down the dress she was beading.

"What do you mean by love?"

"Well, I mean did he have a special place in your heart? Would you have done anything to be with him? Do you miss him now that he's not here?"

Running Fawn was looking at Melody, but Melody could tell she wasn't seeing her. Her eyes looked far away.

"When Two Horse brought me back to the Comanche, I hadn't had my first moon time. He and my Comanche mother, Topsanna, named me Running Fawn because I'd been running when he caught me, and they treated me like a Comanche girl. I learned how to be a Comanche woman, just like you are learning.

"When my first moon time came I expected to have Comanche boys wanting to marry me because I had learned well. Topsanna told me that Comanche men would not want to marry me because I was white, so I should become a medicine woman. I did not want to do that. I wanted to be a wife and mother. Topsanna told me that would never happen and took me to see Flies With Spirits, the healer, so I could learn to be a healer.

"There was a young man there named Kills Snakes who smiled at me. While Topsanna and Flies With Spirits talked, Kills Snakes told me he thought I was beautiful and that since I was a white Comanche, I would have great power just like the white buffalo."

Running Fawn chuckled then.

"All the young Comanche men had the same things they said to Comanche girls. She was as bright as the sun at noon, or she took his breath away like a strong wind or he would die in battle to protect her. We all knew they talked amongst themselves about what to say to us. We thought it was funny that they all said the same things.

"Still, there was something special about Kills Snakes. He wasn't a very good warrior, but he didn't have to be. He was learning how to heal the sick and wounded. The band would provide for him in order to keep him there and able to help them.

"I liked him from that time on. We talked a lot over the years until I was probably nineteen. Then, Kills Snakes asked Two Horse if he could marry me, Two Horse asked me if I could live as a Comanche wife with Kills Snakes. By that time, I could think of doing nothing else, so I said I could."

"I don't know if it was what white women call love or not. What I know is I cared a lot about Kills Snakes and that I liked sharing his bed. I was proud to have his babies. When he was killed by the Cavalry soldiers, I grieved like all Comanche women grieve for their dead husbands. It was like a part of me was gone forever."

Melody asked if all Comanche wives felt the same way about their husbands. Running Fawn smiled.

"A woman takes a husband to help her do things she can not do by herself and to give her children. A woman can always attract a man, but she will look for a man who will do those things because he cares for her. She will do the things he can not do because she cares for him. It is the Comanche way. Isn't it the same way with white women? I do not remember."

Melody shook her head.

"No, not always. Some men treat their wives as slaves. Some even beat their wives."

Running Fawn frowned.

"If a Comanche man beat his wife, he would be told to leave the village. If he didn't, his wife's family would see to it that he never hurt another woman again."

Running Fawn smiled then.

"I know you would never marry a man who would do such a thing. You are too smart. You would marry a man like Towahwi."

Melody made a little gasp and then frowned.

"I could never...I mean...what would people think?"

Running Fawn grinned.

"White people would think you are a terrible person. Towahwi would think you are a fine woman. He already does, or haven't you seen how he looks at you?"

For a few seconds, Melody was speechless. Yes, Towahwi always smiled when he saw her and he'd told her she was good at riding a horse. Was that what Running Fawn meant?

"He always smiles, but he barely talks to me."

Running Fawn put her hand on Melody's shoulder.

"You have done well to learn as much about Comanche women as you have. You have not learned about Comanche men and you have not learned much about Towahwi.

"Comanche men are brave warriors who will fight many men until they win or die. They are not so brave with Comanche women. Their tongues stop working when they find a woman they like. A Comanche woman knows this and looks for the signs, not what the man says.

"Towahwi likes you and understands how you have tried hard to learn to be a Comanche woman. I think if he knew you had feelings for him, he would be very happy. Do you have feelings for Towahwi?"

Melody considered that question. Did she have feelings for Towahwi? She had felt something when she rode behind him. At the time, she didn't understand what that feeling was, but it felt safe to be close to him.

She'd secretly enjoyed it when she saw him looking at her. At first, his stares had been embarrassing even when she was wearing a dress. After two months of living with him and Running Fawn and seeing other women in the village walk around half naked, that embarrassment had gone. After three months, she wasn't even embarrassed to take off her clothes at night when he was watching.

Was that because her mind was telling her Towahwi was a man she could live with forever? Melody had expected to feel some sort of thrill when she found the man she wanted to marry, not a desire for him to see her naked before they were married. Well, she thought, being naked in front of Towahwi wasn't really something she desired. It was just being a normal Comanche woman.

Was that what she'd become, a Comanche woman like Running Fawn had become? Melody thought back about her life in St. Louis. She'd thought it was the perfect life then. She had places to go and people to see and she had her job at the newspaper. After thinking that though, she thought maybe that life hadn't been lived without much purpose. It seemed like working to make things better for the village had more purpose than writing articles for white women to read. Here in the village, her purpose was to learn to make a home out of what was available, and she had the other Comanche women to talk to.

Melody turned to face Running Fawn.

"I don't really know. I like Towahwi, but I didn't know he felt that way about me. How will he know I have feelings for him?"

Running Fawn smiled.

"If you want Towahwi to know, do something special for him, something a Comanche woman would do for a man she likes."

Running Fawn grinned then.

"Towahwi needs new moccasins. You know how to make moccasins now and you have some deer hide left from your dress. If you make him moccasins, he will know. If you put some beadwork on them, he will know you really like him."

>>>--------->

Running Fawn showed Melody the pattern she used for Towahwi's moccasins, and Melody worked carefully for a week to make them as good as those Running Fawn made. When she finished them, she spent another week sewing beads onto the toes to make a design that wasn't a typical Comanche design like she'd often seen on clothing. It was a design of her own invention.

It was a triangle shape with four colors. One section was red to signify Towahwi's bravery in war. Next to it was a section in white to signify peace. The third section was blue signifying the sky and how it watches over all the earth, and the last was a yellow border around the triangle to symbolize the sun that gives life.

When Melody finished the beadwork, she asked Running Fawn how she should give them to Towahwi.

"I can't just walk up and give them to him, can I? Maybe you should do it."

Running Fawn smiled.

"If I give them to him, he'll think I made them. You should give them to him and tell him you made them because he needed new moccasins. He'll understand why you made them."