Chapter 177: Playing in the Hay

Editor: Tarasandia/nnpdad

A week of preserving and storing. One very long week of drying, salting meat and everything else that went with the hunt. Tanning hides, preserving tendons and storing every tidbit of buffalo away to keep us over the winter. Brin and his pack were happy and well fed.

While the boatmen travelled and everyone else slaved over the buffalo carcasses under the close guidance of the Pawnee and Fritz, I was talking, deciding, ruling and judging. Oh joy. Honestly, I’d have preferred to be out picking up buffalo chips.

And then there were the ceremonies. The Pawnee had a ceremony for everything. My appointed wives Mouse and Banshee ensured that I properly attended all of them. And, of course, Rabbi had a ceremony or three he had to perform to sanctify the hunt.

And the fussing. Sonya, Aunty and Matilda – one or more of them – were there every time I turned around. I was cared for, but growing quite tired of the ‘princely’ treatment. And every single person in the camp had at least one question about the upcoming land grant lottery. I was mentally exhausted and emotionally drained.

Alone time came at night, when I least wanted it. Mouse was spending time with her family down at the Pawnee camp, and given that she wouldn’t likely see her family again until next year’s hunt, I was disinclined to call her back. Instead, after spending the entire day in meetings, ceremonies, and dealing with village disputes, I finally collapsed into bed alone at night.

Thankfully, the Pawnee were on the verge of returning to their village and I had a scheduled boat ride up to Fort Atkinson following soon thereafter. The only thing that stood between me and that trip was the first day of hay cutting, and we planned to start that effort the very next work day. I intended to help kick off the first cut before I jumped on the boat to head upriver; they didn’t really need me, but I felt I needed to experience it.

It was an experience well had, but a brutal day nonetheless. For me personally, muscle groups that I didn’t realize existed got an over-the-top workout just swinging the scythe. Even the tool itself was mostly unfamiliar to me. I was aware of its usage and purpose, but a complete beginner as to the actual execution of the task. I was impressed by the whetting stone carried by each cutter, and even more impressed with the water-filled leather sheaths in which they were carried. Even a little experience with the blade-dulling grass quickly made their utility clear. But it was that the blacksmith’s peening station set up at the cutting field that took me completely by surprise. I kept my mouth shut and listened when they set me up with a beginner’s short blade and assigned me a mentor. This was a far more skilled job than I had ever imagined.