From "Ruby's Captive, - Simita Explains Some Chiricahua Ways...

   

We were sitting on the ground. Simita was talking in her very important instructor's voice as she made snares with a ball of string.  "If we do this right we could have rabbit stew tonight. "  She flashed one of her brilliant smiles at me.

     "That would be very good!," I replied.  A rabbit stew with rich gravy, my mouth was watering!

     "Yes," Simita continued, "we are making snares, but for larger catches nets are strung across an area and we beat the bushes and the rabbits are herded into them."

     "Really!"

     "Oh, yes, Rose!  Many Apache love rabbit meat.  Of course, I prefer a young deer.  We are excellent hunters, as you know, but it is better to bring down game with a bow and arrows and not a rifle or, if it is not too big, hit it with rocks then run it down and club it."

     "Oh, why is that?"

     Simita looked at me as if I were an idiot.  "Because, silly!  You have never practically broken a tooth on a bullet in  meat?"  She shook her head at me.

     I laughed.  "I suppose not!"

     "Then you are very spoiled, Rose.  I could guess that anyway."  She shrugged.

     "And, why?," I asked her.

     Simita shrugged.  "Still, Rose, you are proving to be a good worker so that the chiefs and the older men and women have decided that you will not be made a permanent camp slave, be sold to another tribe or be reckoned in individual claim.  You should be glad you aren't to be made a permanent camp slave or sold to another tribe. As you know, quite a few of our men are interested in you. You are beautiful.  Everyone has seen that you are sturdy.  You are a hard worker with a mild nature.  These are considered very good qualities."

     I sighed.  "But, the only man I want is Ruby.  Ah, I mean Narsimha."

     Simita smiled again, showing her gorgeous teeth.  I could definitely see the reason for her name, "Simita".

     "Yes ", she continued, " --- Ruby, that was the  name our mother gave him.  It's pronounced 'Rubi' in Spanish too.   And me she named Pearl, or, Perla."

     "Ruby and Pearl...." I remarked.

     "And,"  Simita continued, "our mother had another child, two years older than me.  She named her Emerald, or Esmeralda.  We often called her Esmer.  Her Apache name was Cocheta.  But, she was stolen by the Kiowa.  She was very beautiful with golden eyes like a hawk's, but with green flecks in them and midnight black hair, so black that it looked blue-black in some light, like Narsimha's hair does.  She looked very much like him, but so feminine.  Yet, anyone would know they were brother and sister.  Esmer was taken when she was five.  I was only three, but I remember it clearly.  It's my first memory,---the screaming, the burning, the thick smoke over everything, my sister struggling in the arms of a big Kiowa warrior who galloped off with her."

     "Where was Narsimha?"

     "He was away at the time.  He can't watch every moment.  Narsimha travels, as do many warriors.  He has never forgiven himself that he didn't stop Esmer from being stolen."

     "Oh, I'm so sorry.  That's terrible, Simita."

     I wanted to change this subject.  And, there was something I wanted to know.  "But, can I ask you something?"

     Her eyes seemed wet.  She stared at me.  "What is it?"

     "Uh,--- the auction...  Who gets the goods that are offered for me?"

     "Oh, well, they become the property of the whole camp.  They will be distributed to those in need.   Old people and wives of warriors who have been killed in battle are first.  The Chiricahua always try to be very fair and use balance in all things for the good of the People, all the horses, furs and skins, blankets, beads and jewelry, fine clothing, beautiful baskets and big cook pots will be handed out fairly.  Simita waved her fingers.  "Of course, rifles and pistols are very much wanted by everyone, and other weapons, knives, lances, bows and arrows.  There may even be silver and gold at the auction."

     I looked down in my lap.  "It's a good thing that the camp will be made richer."

     "Naturally, it is,"  Simita agreed.

     "Is everyone allowed to attend the auction?"

     "Every adult Chiricahua, Rose."

     "Will you be there, Simita?"  I very much wanted a friendly woman with me.

     "Oh, no, no!   I am still a girl.  I have not yet started my moon days, had my Sunrise Ceremony."  She giggled.  "You really do need to learn more about Apache ways!  No matter, we will teach you."

     "Thank you, Simita."

     "Yes, we Chiricahua have always gathered many wild foods, pinon nuts, prickly pear fruit, juniper berries, the tender stems and the larger stalks of yucca, sunflower seeds, wild grapes, chokecherry, fruit of the saguaro cactus, screw beans, pods of the locust, onions and garlic.  We grind mesquite beans and acorns to make flour.  We use the roots and shoots of the tule plant added to meat to make a hearty stew.  We dry meat, fruits and berries and mix them with fat to make pemmican, the easily kept food for journeys.  We store many varieties of food to eat in the harsh season of the Ghost Face, or Winter, by burying them in large caches in the ground.  Of course, all Apache love sweets!  We adore wild honey!  And, when we find a good, big mescal we will roast the center of it in a pit.  That makes a delicious treat, thick and syrupy!  I will show you how to cook mescal sometime.  Since it is the season of Large Leaves, or Summer, there is a lot of fresh food to be had.  I was born in this time of year, Rose.  But, Narshima was born in the season of Little Eagles, the Spring."

     "I was born in Fall," I added.

     "Ah, that is the season of Large Fruit, Rose."

     "Is there any food that the Apache refuse to eat, Simita?"

     "Yes, bears, turkeys, snakes, reptiles, prairie dogs and fish."

     "Apaches don't eat turkeys?  Why not?"

     "The reason goes way back, Rose.  We just don't.   No bear either.  But, we use bear grease to oil rifles.  Some Apache use it to dress their hair, but I think it smells funny!"  She wrinkled her small nose.  I laughed. "However, I like to use the fat of a young deer mixed with sweet herbs to keep my skin smooth, many Chiricahua do, both men and women."

     I thought of Ruby's silky skin.  I had to continue this line of conversation.  "Men use fat to soften their skins too?"

     "Oh, yes, Rose, definitely!  All Chiricahua are proud of their fine looks and want to keep looking handsome as long as possible.  We are especially careful of our beautiful long hair.  We even rub it with sweet grasses so that it will smell wonderfully fresh."

     I looked down at my lap, grinning widely, remembering the warm very long strands of Ruby's clean and fragrant hair falling onto my bare skin.

     Simita chirped on.  "I'm sure you've seen how much we also like to wear beads and silver.  We like to wear fur robes, finished on the edges with long leather fringes and the working of pretty beads.  I have an especially lovely deer skin robe that my father gave me.  Everyone admires it's exquisite beading.  Udaya, Hrideyesk's wife; many admire her handcrafts; she finished it for me.  Of course, the Chiricahua use all sorts of furs and hides.  Our warriors use the bear's hide for a very masculine-looking robe and it also makes a good blanket.  Naturally, no blanket is warmer than a huge, thick buffalo robe.  I've always wanted a light colored one, a cream or golden one, but that would be a very rare and hard to find and would cost a lot."

     "You said the Apache eat no fish, Simita?  What's wrong with fish?"

     She stuck out the tip of her little tongue, making a comical face.  "Way too much like snakes!  Even the smell of a fish makes me feel sick!"  She laughed.  "And, our young women don't eat eggs, Rose."

     "Why not?"

     "It can conflict with a girl's fertility."

     "Oh..."

     She continued.  "You know we eat rabbit and deer, but we also eat antelope, wild pig, possum, raccoon, quail, wood rats and others.  And, of course, the beef, sheep and goats that we take in raids, even at times, horses."

     "Animals you take in raids. You mean, that you steal," I said.

     Simita laughed.  "Rose, you are so funny!  Raiding is what the Chiricahua DO!"

     She looked at me wide-eyed.  "We are Apache!  We are eagles and lions!  We take what we need, much of it for food and livestock, horses for riding and beef cattle, which we slaughter almost immediately.  Even if we did raise, try to raise cattle for food our land is so poor that I doubt we could do it well.  Plus, we're not farmers; we're gathers of wild food, and hunters.  And, do you think that we are the only ones who raid?  I can't think of a single tribe that doesn't!"  She shook her head at me.

     "Narsimha told me terrible things that the Chiricahua do, Simita, that all Apache do."

     "Oh, really!," she smiled slightly at me, indulgently, as if I were a foolish child.  "Like what?"

     "Like the torturing, the cruelty that Apaches seem to take delight in.  It's shocking."  I lifted my head, as if defying her to tell me that things were different.

     "Oh, Narsimha has been teasing you!"

     "You mean that he wasn't telling me the truth?"

     "No, he was.  Narsimha tricks sometimes, but he usually doesn't lie outright.  Was he saying that Chiricahua pay back their enemies by burning, skinning and dismembering, by destroying whole villages in revenge?"

     "Yes, something like that."

     "I suppose white men would never do anything cruel to their enemies, right Rose?"

     "Of course not, whites have laws, civilized laws!"

     "How do you know?"

      "They just are, that's all!"

     "Whites have done violent things to Indians, Rose."

     "No!  Never!"

     "Yes, they definitely have."

     Naturally,  I knew that Simita was right, but I didn't want to admit it.  As Ruby had said---"We're all savages".

     "Well," I sniffed, "the Apaches are the most merciless people!"

     Simita laughed.  Then, her chestnut-colored eyes hardened.  "Apaches are not hypocrites.  They do not claim to be what they're not, like the whites do.  And, you wouldn't have us show mercy to our enemies, Rose!  Why, if we did we'd never survive!  Our enemies would say among themselves: Let's wipe out the Apaches because there will be no retaliation from them, no matter what heinous acts we do!"  She continued, narrowing her eyes.  "When anyone attacks whites powerful officials, lawmen, soldiers, judges, even your most high government people, and your President become very angry and the ones who attacked are hunted down and punished.  Am I right?"

     "Yes, naturally."

     "You may not know these officials who avenge say, the murder of one of you, perhaps even a family member, true?"

     "Yes."

     "But, we, Rose are a tiny nation compared to the whites.  There have never been that many Apaches.  When an enemy attacks us, kills a wife or father, we must go to pay them back personally.  And, we do.  Our ways are swift and harsh, but they have kept us alive and strong for centuries and centuries.  We are Apache.  We are Chiricahua, proud and mighty.  You speak from inexperience, Rose, and the people you came from, the whites, are soft, safe and protected like weak sheep by your powerful government.  One white woman or man can afford to show mercy personally, to be kind-hearted and gentle, perhaps...  Hmmm?"

     She shook her head again.  "White man's morals!  If you would be Chiricahua you need to be realistic and toughen up!"

     Of course, she was totally right and I had nothing else to say.  I almost felt ashamed considering what she said, and quite foolish. What a huge gap there was between her culture and mine!  Would I fit in?  I knew I had to if I wanted Ruby.  There was no way that he would ever take to himself the ways of the white man.