Harvest Flower

Chapter 1: Little Girl

1812 Arizona Territory

The blue autumn skies blackened with bellows of smoke early in the morning. No sounds of the birds filled the crisp air. Nothing moved and the feelings of death and terror filled the early hours. The sun refused to paint the sky with color. A lonely red tail hawk flew high above a small hunting party leading them to a terrible place that once rang with the sounds of white man tools. The smell of burned bodies, and green wood smoke hung heavy around them. The hawk's screech caught Chief Red Feather's eye. He led the hunting party towards the clearing where a family of white people called home.

The smoke grew thicker as it spread through the trees lingering along the wooded path. They rode into the clearing to find the newly finished cabin burned to the ground the air around them thick with smoke and ash. Flames still sputtered and licked towards the sky in the remains of the cabin’s location. A woman in front of the cabin lay sprawled on the ground. Her clothes ripped and bloody, her scalp missing.

Red Feather rode around the burning pile to the wagon that was laying upside down. A man's body was bound to the wagon wheel, burnt arrows protruded from his chest and sides, his scalp also missing.

Red Feather continued around searching for the children he knew the man and woman had. With a flick of his wrist two warriors rode out to the field behind the cabin. Red Feather rode to the tree line were the small creek flowed in the shadows of the autumn kissed trees. A pile of dried branches and stumps caught Red Feather's attention. He looked to the men behind him and waved his hand.

The last two warriors halted their horses and waited. The family's animals; two oxen lay dead and mutilated just outside the small garden, the horse and milk cow missing. Red Feather approached the pile of branches, and he saw a small hand laying on the ground just behind it.

It was a small boy around six years old. He was dead his eyes glazed over and a jagged cut split his throat. A few feet into the trees another boy of ten years lay face down in the leaves, with an arrow in his back. The bucket of water he carried trampled into the drying mud. Red Feather's heart dropped. The little girl was missing. He turned back to the pile of dead branches and movement inside them caught his eye.

A dirty blue fabric shifted and a small sniffle whispered in the still air. Red Feather dismounted and knelt closer to see more clearly. Her honey brown eyes widened when they met his. She held a long-pointed stick in her hands, her knuckles white from gripping it so tight. Her flaming yellow hair fell around her shoulders in waves. She wasn't much over seven years old.

Her wide eyes narrowed making tears fall down her cheeks. Her lips frowned as she reared back and thrust forward with the long stick. Red Feather grunted as the stick hit him in the shoulder pushing him slightly back. His warriors chuckled behind him, all four now gathered around watching. The small girl let out a growl like an injured baby wild cat. Her jabs with the stick a brave but pitiful attempt at keeping the grown man at bay.

Red Feather reached his hand in grabbing the stick, but she let it go and scrambled out of his reach. He leaned in holding out his hand for her and she darted out of the tangled branches. He tried to grab her and darted for her but she ran. She ran as fast as she could. Her heart pounded as she dashed across the small creek just down the path. The light footsteps behind her caught up quickly. A scream stuck in her throat as a large sun-tanned arm caught her around her waist. She held her breath as he turned her to look at him. Her wild eyes flashed like the wild kittens caught in rabbit snares.

"You are safe little one. I will not hurt you. You run like small rabbit, it's good to have spirit inside." He pulled her to his chest when tears started to fall silently down her cheeks. "I will take you as my daughter. You will live in my hut. My Moon Stream will cry no more for a daughter I can not give."

Red Feather's warriors rode up leading his horse. After he mounted and the little girl secure on his lap, they began the journey home. The steady beat of the horses hooves echoed in her heart, and she fell asleep the fear slowly leaving her tiny body with each step.

Moon Stream waited for her husband to return, their son, Rising Bear, waited with her. He was now old enough to start setting traps and hunting in nearby areas. Today, he waited for lessons on how to trap rabbits. He sat watching the trail his newly made snare gripped tightly in hand.

Moon Stream gasped as Red Feather came into view. He looked hunched over with a tightly wrapped bundle held tight to his chest. The light grew brighter revealing a little sleeping white girl on his lap. Tears welled up in her eyes, as they came closer the warriors behind Red Feather split off joining their families and friends.

Red Feather dismounted in front of his wife and son cradling the girl to his chest. "The girl is ours now, her family is no more." He said as he carried her into the hut.

Moon Stream dried her eyes and softly stroked the girl's hair as she lay on a bed of pelts. The strawberry blond of her hair glowed in the fire light. Moon Stream looked up to Red Feather and with a smile said. "She will be called, Harvest Flower."

Rising Bear knelt beside the girl with wide eyes. "She is injured? Where is her family father?"

Red Feather touched his head and then his chest. "She hurts inside. Her family lay dead in ashes around her, while she guarded a pile of branches with a stick." He looked at Moon Stream, "Take care she is wild with fear, and hurt from people of our color not our tribe. She knows little, and the family she once had treated her roughly. A gentle hand and strong spirit will tame our new little Harvest Flower." He stood and touched Rising Bear on the shoulder before turning to leave.

Rising Bear followed quietly, but he stopped to take one last look at the pretty girl. Her honey gold eyes flickered open to stare at him, before turning wild with fear. Moon Stream held her down and started singing in soft tones. Rising Bear left quickly wanting to make the fear in her eyes go away.

Little Harvest Flower struggled for only a moment, the calmness of Moon Stream's voice bringing her fears under control.

At night Harvest Flower cried and screamed in her sleep. Her nightmares causing her to tremble and thrash while she slept. Rising Bear would cuddle her while Moon Stream sang softly to them both. With the sun’s rays, she became closer to her new family, learning their ways, and picking up their language quickly. Rising Bear didn’t mind her following him around the village, she would try to be invisible when others showed interest in her. Harvest Flower, tried to act tough, and brave; her fear only showing in the depths of her eyes.

Moon Stream loved brushing Harvest Flower’s hair and singing to the little girl. The small corn husk doll, Red Feather made for Harvest Flower, always held in her small arms. Harvest Flower lost the wild look of a scared little girl and was soon speaking and acting like a true Indian child. Her fears slowly leaving until her dreams swallowed her. “Father? Will she always dream like this?” Rising Bear asked.

Red Feather watched Harvest Flower curl into a ball beside Rising Bear, on their bed of pelts. “They will come and go. Time will heal all wounds inside and out.”