Free Silken Savage by Catherine Hart Page B

and her eyes narrowed as she sighted down the shaft. Out of sight, he watched for several minutes. With excellent instruction from her tutors, she did not do badly, especially considering neither the bow nor arrows were of a proper size and weight for her.
    A few days later, Panther presented her with a bow and a quiver of arrows of her own. She had seen him working on them, but had no idea they were for her.
    “These are the proper size and weight for you, Little Wildcat,” he told her. “The curve and tension of the bow and string are important, and the arrows must be straight; the feathering just so, for accuracy. The bow must be balanced, and the arrows also. I will show you how to hold the bow and draw the bowstring properly; the correct way to nock the arrow; the position your arms and shoulders should take. Then you must practice, and when you are proficient enough, I shall take you hunting.”
    “You saw me practicing with the boys,” Tanya guessed with a rueful smile.
    “Yes.”
    “I will practice with these until I can hit my target every time,” she vowed, stroking the bow lovingly.
    Then she threw herself into Panther’s arms, tears glistening in her golden eyes. “You are so good to me, Panther! I shall do everything in my power to make you happy!”
    Panther stroked her bright head. “You do that now, Wildcat. You please me in more ways each day. Your eagerness to learn Cheyenne ways, the joy of discovery on your face, your delight in a new accomplishment, your willingness and your courage, and your loving attitude all please me and add joy to my days. Your eager caresses and kisses, your open and willing sharing when I join with you each evening, bring pleasure to my days and delight to my nights.”
    He raised her glowing face to his, and lowered his lips to hers. “You are becoming as necessary as air to breathe and water to drink,” he whispered.
    “And you are the food of my heart,” she replied softly as their lips met in mutual desire.
     
    Tanya was appalled when Shy Deer explained the Sun Dance to her. “It’s barbaric!” she exclaimed.
    Shy Deer merely shrugged and smiled. “It is our way,” she said simply.
    “But for young men and boys to purposely subject their bodies to such torture!” Tanya still could not believe it. She shuddered as she recalled the matching scars on either side of Panther’s upper chest. She had never asked him how he had gotten them, and he had never volunteered the information, but she had often wondered about it. Now she knew. He had received them during the Sun Dance.
    Two days previously, the men had ridden out in search of just the right tree for the center ceremonial pole of the Sun Dance. They had brought it back and erected it, and the head shaman had blessed it with mystical chants. Long rawhide ropes were connected to the top of the pole. To these lines, the skewers would be attached that would be laced into the chests of the young men.
    “The skewers are laced through skin and muscle, one on each side of the chest; or sometimes only one in the center of the chest, but when this is done often the breast bone breaks during the dance,” Shy Deer explained calmly. “The skewers are attached to lines from the ceremonial pole, and the men are hoisted to dangle several feet off the ground, held only by the skewers in their chests. The weight of their bodies, combined with their agitated movements, causes the skewers to cut through their flesh. When the flesh is cut through, they fall. Many times the men decide to re-attach the skewers and dance again, but once is enough for most.”
    “How do they stand the pain?” Tanya wanted to know, aghast.
    “They prepare themselves for days before the ceremony. The young men who elect to participate, and often their families as well, fast. They pray alone or with the shaman in secret ceremonies, they sweat the impurities from their bodies in the sweat lodge, and smoke the ceremonial pipes, sometimes with