You must also remember the yellow-hair may give you many more children than a Comanche woman. Take care or you could father more children than you can feed. I've never seen a white woman yet who wasn't a good breeder."
A slow grin spread across Hunter's mouth. "You will tell her this, yes? So far she isn't showing the proper enthusiasm."
"She'll come around. Give her time. Be patient. The rewards will be worth the wait."
Hunter tossed aside the poker and rose. "I will think long on your words."
"You sound like a man with eyes going two different directions. What maiden in the village entices you?"
"There is no one."
"Hmmph. Bullheaded, just as I suspected. I used to hope you might outgrow it. I see you never will."
"I have the strongest arm in my lodge circle. Her pouting will not sway me. If that's being bullheaded, then I sure enough am."
Many Horses rolled his eyes.
"You think my arm is not the strongest?"
"I think you should fight your battles with men on the battlefield, my son, where you have a chance of winning. That is what I think. But when have you ever listened to me?" He reached for the bow he was so skillfully crafting. "I suppose you must learn life's lessons your own way."
Choosing to ignore his father's digs, Hunter said, "It's a very small bow. Who is it for?"
"Turtle," Many Horses replied with a mischievous smile. "At my age, there is little pleasure in life. It is time I watched my grandson learn to shoot. I and my friends are placing bets. I have two horses that say he will shoot Warrior in the thigh. Old Man thinks it will be in the rump. Want to wager?"
Hunter's smile turned wry. "I don't think so. If I recall, I told Warrior that would teach Turtle how to shoot."
Many Horses nodded, then quirked an eyebrow. "So it's thigh I'm wagering on, eh? Hmm. Sometime today, bring your yellow-hair by to meet me."
"Why?"
"She may want to bet with us."
"My yellow-hair?"
Many Horses grinned. "If Turtle aims a little high, think of all the grief he might save her."
Hunter gave a snort of disgust and left the lodge.
A slow grin spread across Hunter's mouth. "You will tell her this, yes? So far she isn't showing the proper enthusiasm."
"She'll come around. Give her time. Be patient. The rewards will be worth the wait."
Hunter tossed aside the poker and rose. "I will think long on your words."
"You sound like a man with eyes going two different directions. What maiden in the village entices you?"
"There is no one."
"Hmmph. Bullheaded, just as I suspected. I used to hope you might outgrow it. I see you never will."
"I have the strongest arm in my lodge circle. Her pouting will not sway me. If that's being bullheaded, then I sure enough am."
Many Horses rolled his eyes.
"You think my arm is not the strongest?"
"I think you should fight your battles with men on the battlefield, my son, where you have a chance of winning. That is what I think. But when have you ever listened to me?" He reached for the bow he was so skillfully crafting. "I suppose you must learn life's lessons your own way."
Choosing to ignore his father's digs, Hunter said, "It's a very small bow. Who is it for?"
"Turtle," Many Horses replied with a mischievous smile. "At my age, there is little pleasure in life. It is time I watched my grandson learn to shoot. I and my friends are placing bets. I have two horses that say he will shoot Warrior in the thigh. Old Man thinks it will be in the rump. Want to wager?"
Hunter's smile turned wry. "I don't think so. If I recall, I told Warrior that would teach Turtle how to shoot."
Many Horses nodded, then quirked an eyebrow. "So it's thigh I'm wagering on, eh? Hmm. Sometime today, bring your yellow-hair by to meet me."
"Why?"
"She may want to bet with us."
"My yellow-hair?"
Many Horses grinned. "If Turtle aims a little high, think of all the grief he might save her."
Hunter gave a snort of disgust and left the lodge.
( Catherine Anderson )
[ Comanche Moon ]
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