High on a Mountain (36 page)

Kutahyah said nothing. She watched him for a
while, turned and started for home. There was so much about this
white man she didn’t understand. Several times, she had become
disappointed and angry with him, so angry she thought of taking her
belongings and going back to her mother’s house. But each time, her
love for him held her back. She loved him, and her love was growing
stronger day by day.

She sensed that he loved her, but there was
distress deep within his spirit. She saw it in his eyes. And it
stood between them. She didn’t know why he suffered so, but she
would stay with him, would love him, and maybe one day his spirit
would be healed and the hurt would pass. And he would love her as
she longed to be loved.

She would try to be patient, would try to
ignore her desires.

____________

The next time Ailean climbed the mountain, he
took the axe to clear away some of the trees and brush that blocked
his view. He slid down the bank beside the waterfall to the narrow
level ledge to fell the trees growing there and on the bank. And he
cut the trees and saplings along the stream near the drop-off where
the water began its long journey down the mountainside.

With great effort, he moved a large rock onto
the bank of the creek near the edge of the precipice so he would
have a place to sit. At last, he was satisfied. It wasn’t the same
as the open view from the peak above his home in Scotland, but he
was thankful for it.

____________

As time passed, Ailean and Kutahyah learned
more of each other’s words and were able to communicate about their
day-to-day activities in a rudimentary way. But their tender
glances told of their feelings, told more about their growing love
for one another than mere words could have.

One afternoon, Tenahwosi came to their house
with a venison haunch. Ailean was glad to see him and greeted him
warmly. Other than Gòrdan MacAntoisch, Tenahwosi was Ailean’s only
friend.

Kutahyah cut a roast from the haunch and
placed it on a spit over the fire. She invited Tenahwosi to eat
with them.

While the meat cooked, Ailean showed him all
they’d accomplished, the cleared space for the garden and some
other improvements, including the
asi
he was constructing
beside their small home, at Kutahyah’s insistence. And Ailean
showed his friend the rudimentary storehouse he’d built behind the
house to hold the harvest from crops he planned to grow during the
next growing season.

Tenahwosi expressed his approval of the work
they’d done.

They enjoyed the meal, and when Tenahwosi
could not be persuaded to stay the night, Ailean and Kutahyah bade
him a reluctant goodbye.

____________

Jim Satterfield came into the tavern late one
autumn afternoon, dirty and disheveled after weeks of a trek
through the wilderness.

“I need me a drink,” he said, tossing a coin
onto the bar.

“Well, well. Satterfield. Just the man I’ve
been wanting to see,” said Latharn as he poured the drink.

“Why’s that?”

“I know where MacLachlainn is. I need someone
to take me there.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. He’s in Cherokee territory, up in the
mountains, a trader said.”

“Cherokee territory,” Satterfield said. “That
covers a powerful lot of land. Whereabouts in the mountains is
he?”

“Well, I don’t know exactly. I just
thought—”

“Then you don’t know nothing,” Satterfield
interrupted. “He could be anywhere up there.”

“Is there any way I could find out exactly
where he is?”

“Sure, if you can speak Cherokee.”
Satterfield laughed as though he’d made a joke.

“Do you know anyone who speaks it?”

Satterfield narrowed his eyes as he
considered this question. “Well, a fellow I used to track with
married a Cherokee woman a few months ago. I expect he could speak
it a little by now. Or maybe she can talk English.”

“Where can we find him?”

FORTY-FIVE

The autumn chill had painted the trees below
with vivid daubs of orange, red and yellow, interspersed with the
deep green pines. Ailean surveyed the expanse of color and sighed.
He still felt the need to sit on the heights, loved viewing the
beauty of nature around and below him, but somehow it didn’t have
the power to soothe his heart as the view from his favorite peak in
Scotland once had.

Yet he was drawn here more often as his
spirit warred with itself. As he grew closer to Kutahyah, the more
he wanted her, and the more vivid his memories of Mùirne became.
His struggle intensified as he was torn between his desire for
Kutahyah and his compulsion to remain faithful to Mùirne.

When the sun began its descent of the western
sky, shooting golden streaks through the open spaces between the
tree branches, he arose from his rock and started down the
mountain. By the time he reached his home, it was almost dark and
the air had grown cold.

Kutahyah had the evening meal ready when he
stepped into the warmth of their small house, hungry for the food
she had prepared and hungry for her presence.

____________

Latharn and Satterfield neared the Cherokee
village of Ayuhwasi. Their progress toward the village had been
monitored for some time, and they were met by a group of Cherokee
men armed with muskets before they were within sight of it.

“Be quiet and let me handle this,” Jim said
to Latharn.

“
Osiyo
,” Jim said to the men facing
them.

“
Osiyo
,” replied one of them.

“I’m looking for Davey Wilkerson. He live
here?”

An older man turned to one of the younger men
and conferred with him. The younger man trotted off on the trail to
the village. Jim and Latharn sat on their horses while they waited,
their uneasy eyes watching the armed men who surrounded them.

The young man returned and said something to
the older man, who used gestures to indicate that Jim and Latharn
were to follow them. They rode along, men in front of them, men
behind.

“These Cherokees, they like to trade with
white men, but they don’t trust them. Looks like they ain’t taking
no chances that we ain’t friendly.”

Latharn made no reply.

____________

“Well, Jim Satterfield! What brings you
here?” Davey said when Jim’s horse stopped in front of him.

“I brung this here man to find somebody he’s
hunting. So, how’s married life? Good as you thought it would
be?”

“It’s good. Real good. Wish I’d done it long
ago,” Davey said. “Git down off your pony and come in for a
spell.”

He turned to a couple of the Cherokee boys
who stood nearby watching and said something to them Jim and
Latharn couldn’t understand. One of them came forward and took the
reins of the horses. Jim and Latharn dismounted and entered Davey’s
house, leaving the horses in the care of the boys.

When they were all seated around the fire,
Davey said, “So you’re hunting somebody. Why’d you come to me?”

“Because we heard he’s living with the
Cherokees somewhere up here.”

“Aw, that could be most anywhere. I sure
wouldn’t know where to start looking for him.”

“But you can speak Cherokee, can’t you?”
Latharn asked.

“A little,” Davey said.

“Well, you can ask others where this man
might be, where we could find him.”

“Look. I ain’t interested in tracking no
people no more. I’m done with that.”

“Ain’t no tracking to be done,” Jim said.
“The Cherokees done give this man some land and he’s living in just
one spot. We just need to know where that spot is.”

Davey frowned. “They give him some land?”

“Yes.”

“Who is this man?” Davey asked.

“MacLachlainn. Ailean MacLachlainn,” Latharn
replied.

“You talking about Asgayagiga? He’s the only
man I know of that they’ve give land to.”

“No. I’m talking about a Scotsman. A
Highlander who is said to be living here in Cherokee territory,”
Latharn snapped.

“Big man? Red hair?”

“Yes! That’s him!”

“You’re talking about Asgayagiga. That’s what
the Cherokee call him. Bloody Man.”

Neither Latharn nor Jim spoke. Latharn felt a
faint tremor and a coldness move through his body.

“Yep. You’re talking about Bloody Man. I’ve
heard talk about him. I don’t know what you want him for, but
I
ain’t interested in tangling with him.” Davey shook his
head. “Nope. Not me.”

“You don’t have to tangle with him. Just tell
us where to find him,” Latharn said.

Davey scratched his head for a moment. “Wait
here,” he said and went outside. He returned shortly with a young
man. “This here is Inahdunai. He speaks a little English.”

The young man stood impassively, looking over
their heads at the wall beyond.

“Do you know where Ailean MacLachlainn
lives?” Latharn asked.

“He don’t know the man’s English name,” Davey
said to Latharn. He turned to Inahdunai and asked, “Where does
Asgayagiga live?”

“All know where is Asgayagiga. Two days past
Gulahiyi,” Inahdunai said. “Near hunting trail from Elatseyi.”

“Can you show us?” Latharn asked. “Can you
take us there?”

“No,” Inahdunai said and left Davey’s
house.

“Ain’t no Cherokee going to take you to
Asgayagiga. They ain’t supposed to mess with him. But you won’t
have no trouble finding it,” Davey said. “Like Inahdunai said, two
days past Gulahiyi village on the way to Elatseyi. They’s a hunting
trail runs through there.”

____________

Ailean had almost finished building the
asi
where they would live through the cold winter. He had
dug the round space for it at Kutahyah’s direction, cut timbers for
it and hauled them into place. He built a framework and mounded
earth onto it. He had also cut a large quantity of deadwood into
short lengths for the fire and stacked it neatly nearby. They would
be snug and warm this winter. But the temptation to make love to
Kutahyah would be constant during the close confinement in the
asi.
He dreaded the coming of cold weather.

He went to the stream to check the fish trap
and heard someone call from the hillside, “Hello the house!”

It was Gòrdan.

Ailean hurried to meet his friend. “Gòrdan.
Good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you, too, my friend.”
Gòrdan looked around at the house, the cleared field and other
improvements Ailean and Kutahyah had made. “Tenahwosi was right. He
told everyone in the village that you’re doing very well here. He
talked of the things you’ve built, all the work you’ve done.”

Kutahyah had hustled into the house when she
first caught sight of Gòrdan, and now she emerged, carrying a
blanket and a stack of baskets. She spread the blanket on the
ground and set the baskets on it. She looked inquiringly at
Gòrdan.

“Trade?” he asked.

“Trade,” she answered.

Gòrdan dismounted. He and his assistant took
bundles of trade goods off his pack horses.

“Let me tie your horses over by the ford so
they can drink,” Ailean said. “There’s good grass, so they can
graze.”

“All right,” Gòrdan said and handed Ailean
the reins of his saddle horse and the lead rope of the pack horses.
The assistant followed with his own horse.

Ailean returned after he tied the animals. He
stood and watched as Gòrdan spread a canvas sheet on the ground and
opened his packs. He laid items one by one on the sheet. Kutahyah
knelt by the sheet and watched him solemnly as he placed the goods
before her. When all of them were displayed, she examined each
article, fingering it, lifting it, then replacing it carefully on
the canvas. Ailean could tell she was enjoying the trade
immensely.

She looked with longing at a red calico
shirt. She stroked the fabric, held it up and looked it over, front
and back, but laid it aside. She gave it a lingering caress before
turning her attention to other items. At last, she selected a large
knife. She and Gòrdan struck a bargain that each seemed happy with.
She picked up the knife, stood and walked to Ailean. She handed it
to him with a smile.

“Yours,” she said in English.

“
Wado
,” he said. “Thanks.” Then he
said in Gaelic, “I wish I could trade for something wonderful to
give you, something as wonderful as you are to me. I have nothing
right now. Next year, though.”

She smiled at him, picked up the blanket and
returned to the house.

Gòrdan began repacking his goods and the
baskets Kutahyah had traded for the knife.

“Looks like you two are happy together,”
Gòrdan said, watching her go.

Ailean frowned. “Yes and no.”

Gòrdan gave Ailean a sharp glance. “You act
like you love each other.”

“I do love her. And I think she loves
me.”

“What’s the problem then?”

“Gòrdan, I never told you about Mùirne.” His
voice quavered and broke. “My sweet Mùirne.”

“You have a wife waiting in Scotland?”

Ailean shut his eyes and rubbed them. “No. If
only I did.”

“If you don’t have a wife, what’s the
trouble?”

“A man was trying to kill me, and Mùirne put
herself between me and him when he fired his pistol. She gave her
life to save mine.” His voice broke again and he had to stop
talking until he regained control of his emotions. But his voice
was still tremulous as he said, “My sweet Mùirne sacrificed herself
for me. Now, I can’t fully love Kutahyah because I feel guilty when
I touch her, like I’m being unfaithful to Mùirne. My Mùirne.”

Gòrdan took a deep breath and blew it out
before he spoke. “Does Kutahyah know what’s standing between
you?”

Ailean shook his head. “I can’t speak enough
Tsalagi
. I don’t know how to tell her.”