Fair Land, Fair Land by A. B. Guthrie Jr.

couldn't guess at the age of the woman
though she was probably pretty young. Even in her hide sack of a
dress he could tell she hadn't grown fat and squatty, as squaws did
often with age. Her eyes were big, not crowded by high cheekbones,
and her face was thin, made that way by nature or hunger. And damned
if the child behind her didn't have red hair.
    Summers dismounted slowly, propped his Hawken against
a bush, and made the sign for peace, holding both hands in front of
his body, the back of his left hand turned down.
    The woman stood and looked, unmoving.
    He didn't know the sign for meat, if there was one,
and instead went to a pack horse and took the wrapped-up sheep. As he
did, Higgins said softly, "She's like to shoot you."
    "Them old smooth bores ain't so scary."
    He carried the meat toward her and unwrapped it and
stood, then closed his hand and brought it in front of his body, his
forefinger pointing up in the sign for "come."
    She didn't come. She stayed where she was, looking at
him puzzled and questioning, as if there were more to him if she
could bring it to mind. Then she lowered the musket and said, "How."
    Summers carried the meat to her, saying over his
shoulder,
    " You mind unpackiing the horses, Hig, and takin'
'em to grass? No bell on Feather. Just hobbles. This is Blackfoot
country."
    She was Blackfoot herself, he felt sure. One thing,
her moccasins didn't match. By the fire were a couple of knives and a
kettle. Keeping the meat on the canvas, she carved off pieces, 
knowing how, and pitched them in the kettle. From a hide bucket she
added water. The child behind her sniffed like an animal. He cocked
an ear to listen. He might have been a fox. Summers saw then that he
was blind.
    "Know white man's talk?" Summers asked as
she worked. She studied what he had said, the knife uplifted, as if
to find meaning in each word. Then with her free hand she brought her
thumb against her forefinger until only a bit of it showed. That was
the sign for "little."
    In Blackfoot, he guessed, she asked what he knew of
her tongue, and he answered as she had.
Higgins
came from unpacking and loosing the horses. "Gettin' anywhere?"
    " Gettin' to a meal."
    " Her nose ain't been bobbed, anyhow. Jesus
Christ, Dick, that young'n's blind."
    " I took notice."
    " How they make out, you reckon?"
    " Not too fat, I'm thinkin'. Likely she sets
snares for rabbits and maybe grouse. Close up, she could kill a
critter with that old musket."
    Summers started to make a fire, but the woman waved
him away. All right. She was boss of her own household. The child set
up a thin wail like a bird peep in the great silence. She quieted him
with a pat on the head and a sound in her throat. He couldn't have
been more than three years old and maybe not that.
    She had the fire going now. Young sheep didn't take
long to cook.
    Summers sat back on the ground and with a twig from
the fire lighted his pipe. The real warmth of the day was over.
Shadows of the mountains were growing over the camp. Pretty soon the
coyotes would tune up. The woman took something from a small leather
sack and added it to the stew.
    They ate with knives and their fingers, spearing
pieces of meat and letting them cool. When the piece was too big a
mouthful, Summers used his knife to cut the bite off in front of his
nose. He saw Higgins watching him. On a scrubbed stone the woman cut
small chunks and fed them to the child. Between bites the woman said,
"Plenty good." It was the first English she had spoken.
    After eating they washed their hands and mouths with
water from the hide bucket. There was nothing to dry them on, nothing
but the soft air and the breeze that had sprung up.
    Higgins said, "Ain't she got horses? I didn't
see any."
    Catching her eye, Summers made the sign for horse and
raised his eyebrows. She held up two fingers.
    " Yep," Summers said to Higgins. "Two.
They're hid away somewhere."
    Night came on, and Summers rolled out his bed, not
close to the tepee. Higgins