[EDS: THE FOLLOWING DESCRIPTORS MAY BE USED WITH THIS SUBMISSION:
Mf, ped, nc?, interr]

Barter Economy?

Native Housekeeper Offers Child Daughter in Trade


My wife Lillian never really got used to ranch life, although she
seemed happy enough with me and with the life we'd built. I -- or
<I>we</I> -- had done pretty well. I'd hired a Mexican, Esteban,
to help with the heavy work with the cattle, and he'd hired a
couple other fellows who he'd assured me were straight and
honest. Lillian, meanwhile, had hired a housekeeper, a Navajo
woman, Yanaha, to help with the house and garden.

Yanaha worked hard, and although her English wasn't real good,
Lillian enjoyed having another woman around. Yanana had a
daughter, Nizhohni, who, I'm guessing, was 10 or 11 years old.
She'd bring the little girl with her maybe a day a week,
sometimes two days, and Lillian then had the added benefit of a
bright little girl around the house, one almost young enough to
be a daughter.

The whole home seemed to run smoother. Lillian was happier with
with Yanaha around, and Yanaha would get me breakfast in the
morning, allowing Lily to sleep in. Dinner was on the table on
time -- Yanaha was very strict about time, about everything being
on schedule. But that gave Lily a chance to at least pretend that
the ranch was a civilized place, rather than a noisy dust bowl
overrun with cattle and rough, dirty men.

As strict as Yanaha was about time, she was tight about money. I
recall our first interview. Lillian had drawn me in as consultant
to finalize the pay -- she'd already made up her mind that she
wanted Yanaha, so I didn't really have a whole lot of choice. We
got to the nuts and bolts of the conversation, and Yanaha looked
at me with level eyes.

"You have money?" she said to me, her voice subdued.

"Yes, I have money," I said. "I have enough money."

She looked at me a long time, her hands on the table, showing
nothing, not giving anything away.

"You will pay me in American coin, not in paper? Metal money.
Silver coin."

"If I have silver, I'll pay you in silver," I said. "If I have to
pay you greenbacks, I'll buy them back from you in silver as I
get it."

Another long pause, and then . . .

"No," she said firmly. "Not good. That will not do sir. Thank
you, I will go now."

She seemed to know she had me cornered, and perhaps she and Lily
had conspired beforehand. Finally, I agreed to pay her in silver,
but only if she'd accept $7 a month instead of the $8 which had
been our starting figure.

Yanaha's eyes brightened. "That will do," she said. "You will pay
me the last day of every month. I mark on your calendar."

"That will be fair," I agreed.

"And since I will work for less, I will ask for advance on pay up
to amount agreed in a month."

I shook my head slowly and smiled. "Lily, are you taking all this
down? Is all this acceptible? And I <I>don't</I> want you
slipping her half-dollars on the side."

Lily laughed. "I agree, Carl," she said. "Don't you like this
lady?"

"One more thing," Yanaha spoke up. I can use the water tank
outside for washing." she declared. "I see you have shower. I see
Missus Lillian clean in shower. I will use also."

I looked at Lillian. "You may use it once a week," Lily said.

Yanaha would not let up. "And I see you have a room with bed. On
the day I work very late and it is dark, I will stay in that
room. If not, I will have to leave before sundown, and no
dinner."

Holy smoke. I took Lily into the kitchen to talk this over. We
decided to head her off before she asked for anything else.

"You may stay in the room, but no more than one night a week,"
Lillian said. "Otherwise, we will have to deduct a day's wage
from your pay."

I think Yanaha realized she'd done about as well as she could.
Hell, she'd already negotiated a royal wage, at least for a
Navajo woman, one which made her probably the richest women in
the tribal village nearby. And I'd stopped her before she neived
up to ask me for a horse to get to and from.

Lily and I talked about it on the way to bed. We agreed we'd
worked out a deal just south of what we could afford, and we
hadn't given away the homestead to do it. Lily liked Yanaha, and
if she'd had to give away a shower and a room a week, well, that
wasn't so bad.

Lillian was 32, and I was 33, and we hadn't lost our spunk. We
hadn't any children yet, and neither of us was sure why -- it
sure wasn't for want of trying. We tried again that night. Well,
it wasn't exactly for <I>that</I> reason. We started undressing,
and when she got her linen dress off, that was all i needed to
see. I stopped her before she could reach for her nightdress, and
commenced kissing her, and she kissed me back, hard and almost
grateful. So I pressed on, undoing her breasts from the wrap and
working down her underpants. She got her hands between my legs
and found out I was ready -- really ready.

As usual, it was good. It was <I>always</I> good with Lily. She
was a fine, big girl, strong and well-built. When we got into
each other, I always knew I'd met my match, and it was a wild,
bucking ride. Not every time, but most times. We'd do this, oh,
say two or three times a week.

The first night Yanaha stayed the night, I'd wanted to do it, but
Lily's modesty stood her down. "No," she said as I began to work
her over. "Yanaha's in the next room. She could hear us."

That was the least of my worries. I stayed at it ardently, and
Lily finally gave in, and we beat the wooden headboard against
the wall with much crying and crashing, and that was that.

If Yanaha had heard, or had paid any note, she didn't let on the
next day.

Well, as I say, Lily seemed to be getting along well, but about
every three or four months, it struck her that she wanted to go
back to Arkansas to visit with her folks and to be, well,
civilized. So it was that about mid-July, I put her on the train
for the long ride east through New Mexico and Texas to Little
Rock. She decided she'd stay about two weeks.

It wasn't but the next day after I'd kissed Lily on the A&P
platform, that Yanaha started negotiating again.

"Missus Lillian is not here," she said the next morning at
breakfast, stating the obvious. "I will work more hours, is that
not so? I will stay here in the bed while she is gone."

That caught me a little by surprise. "In the bed?"

She looked at me, as though anyone else would have understood.
"In the bed where I have slept," she said, nodding slightly. "I
will stay there until Missus Lillian return."

Now <I>this</I> was a new twist. I'd never looked at Yanaha at
all as a woman of that sort, and I wasn't sure she was offering
anyway. She was, I'm guessing, about 45, with the weathered red
skin of the plains Indian. And she'd never given even the
slightest hint of interest in me, either.

"Well, of course you know, Yanaha," I said, regaining my bearing.
"If you stay here, I would have to deduct from your pay."

"You would not," she said decisively. "I, one woman, will be
doing the work of two women. Then you can not take away from my
pay."

Why was it that this woman was so persuasive? I argued some with
her and attempted to find a way to wear her down. But short of
firing her, which hardly seemed justified, nothing was going to
change her mind, and I finally agreed.

I should have been more vigilant, of course. My life was about to
get very complicated.

Esteban and the hands and I went out on a two-day round-up. We
finally counted 90 big beeves and drove them to the stockyard by
the A&P depot, where the train was loaded for Fort Worth, even
Kansas City. We made a good haul, and I paid the boys on the
spot. The yard boss said, "I'll take all you can get at this
price, and the rate is going up, so you oughta cash in while you
can."

Truly, I had now a real nice account, and I was wore out, and
short of hiring more men, I doubt I could have gotten any more
cattle to market. Tell the truth, I had almost enough money for a
buggy and a pony, which would be <I>fine</I> for picking up
Lillian when she came home. But right that moment, it was all I
could do to drag my weary ass home.

I got in late, 8 o'clock or so, and was about ready to drop. I
went in the house, and Yanaha had saved dinner. I was hungry, but
too weary to eat. Yanaha sat across from me and offered me a
glass of cold water, which I took. Out the window, I could see
distant lightning, but heard no thunder.

"You miss Missus Lillian," Yanaha said, out of nowhere.

"Why yes, of course I do," I said, so tired.

"You miss Missus Lillian in the bed," she continued. "I hear you
at night. You have much power for her."

"Yanaha," I said sharply. "That will be enough."

She paused, but not for long. "I will come to you in your bed,"
she said. "You will pay me one dollar silver, and I stay with you
for one night. You will pay me."

"<I>Yanaha</I>" I shouted. "That will be enough of that. Enough.
Now clean up in this kitchen and get yourself ready for bed, and
I will get ready for bed, <I>my</I> bed. You will not speak to me
this way."

She gave me a queer look and shook her head.

I went in the bedroom and disrobed, then went outside to the
water tank, stood underneath it, and pulled the rope. The water
from the cistern was cool, not cold, and I washed, scrubbing off
the dust and the cattle smell. I dried off, pulled on my
nightshirt, went to bed, and slept 10 hours.

The next day, Yanaha and I spoke not a word about what had been
said. She went about her work, and I spent most of the day with
the books. But after dinner, Yanaha continued her inquiry.

"You do not want me, Mister Carl," she said, giving a sign of
sensitivity to the situation. "I am old. My man does not want me
so much." Then she brightened. "But I am not so old, Mister Carl.
My body is young. My legs are strong. I have big breasts." I had
noticed. "I can satisfy my man. I can satisfy any man. And I tell
you, only one dollar. One silver dollar."

I began to see it now. Yanaha was making me a <I>business</I>
proposition. She had no idea of seducing me. This was strictly a
way for her to do business, until Lillian came home. Then it was
all over. Business done.

I thought again about firing her. I thought I should alert
Lillian, perhaps by telegraph, and then just <I>fire</I> this
woman, and I told Yanaha exactly that.

"No," she said quietly. "You will not do that. You go to bed, I
will go to my bed. I am old. You do not care any more about what
I have said. I will not trouble you."

Things began to move very fast. About noon the next day, Yanaha
begged the rest of the day off, saying she had business to tend
to in the village. I gave in. She made me a sandwich of brisket
and sliced bread, told me that the water tank was low and needed
water from the well, and walked down the lane toward her home.

That night, she returned, and she brought with her her daughter
Nizhohni. Skeptical, i tried putting two and two together, but
the numbers did not add up. The little girl looked hot and tired
from the long walk, and I told Yanaha to sit her in the cool by
the window and to get her some ice and water. Yanaha did so.

While she was out, I tried to make the little girl feel at ease,
but Nizhohni was shy and seemed almost afraid. I wondered if she
spoke English, so I said, "You are Nizhohni." She looked at me,
almost as if ready to cry. "Yes. I am Nizhohni," she answered. I
put my hand to my chest and said, "I am Carl. Your mother,
Yanaha, works for me. She is very much help." She looked at me.
"Carl," she said.

Yanaha came back in the house with a box of ice. She pulled a
chair and sat next to Nizhohni. She took some ice and held it
gently to her daughter's face and neck. "Nizhohni, will help me
work tomorrow," the mother said. "I have too much work. She must
help me."

She put some more of the ice in a metal cup and poured it full of
water from a pitcher. Nizhoni drank it and asked her mother for
more. They spoke in Navajo for a little while.

Needless to say, there was no proper dinner that night, as Yanaha
had been gone most of the day. She made more sandwiches and
dipped out some sauerkraut Lillian had pressed. Neither she nor
Nizhohni would eat the sauerkraut.

After "dinner", Yanaha had Nizhohni clean the dishes and put
things away. She showed her daughter where things were and walked
her around the house, giving her the general organization. "And,"
the mother said, "she will stay with me, in my room. She will
sleep in my bed with me."

Well, I was about past where I was willing to argue every point
with Yanaha -- I was too busy to quarrel, and as long as Yanaha
did not get in the way and got the work done as directed, well,
so be it.

Hearing no protest from me, Yanaha continued. "Now, she will take
a shower and go to bed."

"That's fine," I said wearily, already trying to set up a day's
work for tomorrow. "Clean her up and get her some rest."

A few minutes later, I heard the splashing of the water from the
tank. Yanaha tended to her daughter. They came in after just a
while, and I was surprised to see Nizhohni completely naked and
still wet. "Do you not have a cloth I can dry her with, Mister
Carl?" Yanaha said.

"Yanaha, damn it," I said. "You <I>know</I> where the washclothes
are. Get that girl a towel and cover her up." Yanaha walked to
the bedroom to fetch a towel, leaving Nizhohni naked and dripping
by the back door. The little girl made no attempt to cover up.

My god, I thought. Well, maybe they do things this way in the
tribe. But the girl, maybe 11 years old, was beginning to show
signs of womanhood -- the slight swellings on her chest, she
shape of her legs, hips and waist. I looked away, and Yanaha came
back with a towel and dried her daughter's copper skin, and I
scolded her.

"Yanaha, the girl needs a nightshirt, please," I said, raising my
voice. "Did you not bring a shirt for her to sleep in?"

"Mister Carl, she does not sleep in a shirt at our home," she
scolded back. "We do not wear clothing at night when it is hot in
the summer. This is wrong? I think this is not wrong.

"She will sleep with me," she said, finally.

She took Nizhohni into her bedroom and put her to bed. She came
back out and sat at the table across from me.

"You now are angry?" she said. "You should not be angry. Nizhohni
is going to sleep. She has a cover over her on the bed. She will
work with me tomorrow."

She persisted."Do you think Nizhohni is pretty? She is young and
pretty?"

I could see where Yanaha was going, and the idea appalled me.
"Girls should not be without clothes when men are around,
Yanaha," I said, angrily. And if you have some idea of selling
your daughter to me for money, you can forget it right
<I>now.f</I> I am this close to discharging you, <I>firing</I>
you, telling you to go away and never return. This is
<I>wrongf</I> -- you understand wrong? -- and will not be
tolerated.

Yanaha gave me a straightforward look. She sat there for a long
time, as if weighing her chances. Finally, she got up and went to
bed without another word. I got a glass of water, then went to
bed myself.

I stirred in the middle of the night. Again there was lightning,
and this time thunder, and I heard the wind begin to rise. Good,
I thought, the cistern needs filling and the stock need water.
Good. I rolled over to go back to sleep and realized I was not
alone, and I was startled.

I reached slightly and felt a female body, smooth and warm, and
then I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Nizhohni?" I said.

"Mister Carl," she said quietly. "I am frightened."

"Nizhohni, What are you . . . you must go back to bed. No.
Nizhohni, there is nothing to be frightened of. Go back to your
bed."

She put her arms around my neck and, uncertain and truly
frightened, pressed her body against mine. She felt small, as
would any young girl. She had only the beginnings of breasts, but
she had nipples sprouting from her chest. She held me close, and
I could sense her fright, but from what? Rain began to pour, and
Nizhohni flinched and shivered.

I put my arms around her and held her, as I would any scared
little girl. She moved her hands slowly down my back and stayed
close to me, and against my will and better nature, my cock begam
to swell. All I dared to do was hold her, hold her and protect
her.

Perhaps this was the way of the Navajo, I thought. Or perhaps her
mother had told her something of what to do -- I wouldn't have
put anything past Yanaha. But Nizhohni stayed pressed tight
against me and continued to run her hands from my shoulders to my
ass, up and down, slowly, and I became excited, so I began to do
the same to her, and at that she pressed against me full-front.

"You have the thing," Nizhohni murmured quietly. "I feel it." She
reached down between where our legs met and placed her warm hand
tentatively on my cock, which by now was growing hard, very hard.
She squeezed it and wiggled to adjust so as not to be poked with
it.

It never took me long, and I was a goner. "Nizhohni . . . " I
began.

"Please, Mister Carl," the girl said quietly, to no purpose or
meaning I could figure. "I am frightened. She rolled onto her
back and continued to hold my cock. Then she began to rub it up
and down, and it was completely hard, and I felt sin and lust
overtake me. I placed a hand on her belly and began to move it up
and down. When I reached  her nipples, I touched them lightly and
felt them stiffen and grow.

Her body felt beautiful, soft and warm and smooth and pure. She
smelled clean and flowery, with a darker hint of smoke. I moved
my hand down to her thighs, which were thin and hairless. And
then, as I would with Lillian and had with every other woman I'd
known, I leaned to take one of her nipples in my mouth. I kissed
it and drew it out with my lips, and she moaned slightly, as if
surprised at the pleasure this gave her.

I moved upward to kiss her mouth, and she responded, again
accepting a pleasure. I ran my hands through her coarse hair, and
the lightning flashed and the rain fell. She enjoyed the
feelings, but like a young girl was more curious than passionate.
She wanted to feel what was <I>there,</I> and she put her other
hand down among my parts and explored my balls and the hair
around my pubes. She seemed fascinated by my cock and continued
to stroke it with her little hand, up and down, as I kissed her
and smoothed her young legs and hips.

Finally, I gave in to my impulse and moved my hand to her maiden
cunt. She felt my hand there and immediately let her legs fall
aside, opening herself. I touched her, and I felt the beginnings
of puberty, a covering of down, forecasting her coming of age. I
pressed my fingers against the lips of it and began to part them
with my finger, moving my hand slowly up and down.

I felt a bit of wet, and she moaned louder, and she began to
stroke my cock harder. I couldn't take much more of this, and I
was torn between lust and the wrongness of what we were doing.
I'm sure she felt the same.

I felt my climax building, and I told Nizhohni to stop. She did
not. My cock erupted, spraying jism onto her hand, her wrist, and
up her arm, and onto her hip and belly.

Nizhohni did not seem to realize anything had happened, and she
continued to stroke, as if that was the totality of the act and
she had no idea that it was done. I slowly recovered my sense,
then moved my hand to hers to stop her.

"You do not like that?" she said to me.

"Oh, Nizhohni," I groaned, wondering whether to explain things to
her. I'd have thought -- and I had no idea of how the Navajo
handled education in sex -- that someone, particularly her
mother, would have taught this girl a few of the facts of life,
or that she would have learned them on her own, the way most
people do.

I decided to give her a little primer, with the whole
penis-in-vagina and male ejaculation and male and female pleasure
and love and closeness, and the making of babies. Nizhohni seemed
to know more than she let on.

"Yes, Mister Carl," she said, now pressed tight against me again.
"And now you are to put yourself in me?"

"Nizhohni, I . . . "

"You do not want to put yourself in me?"

"I . . . "

"A boy I know, he wanted to put his thing in me," she said. "We
kiss some, and he wants to put his thing in me. But then all the
sudden, he go . . . he go all over me, the way you did. He did
not put himself inside me."

I tried to roll away from her, onto my back, but she stayed tight
to me, more from instinct than from passion. So there I was, on
my back, with Nizhohni's warm, child's body sprawled across me. I
could feel her adjusting her hips and legs, and my cock hardened
again. I could feel the jism on her arm and body smearing between
us.

She did not raise herself but tilted her head to kiss me on my
face, my beard, my neck. She reached down my belly and found my
cock and gripped it in her hand, just holding it tight. "You say
the man puts his thing inside the woman," Nizhohni said with
childlike seriousness. "If you are a man, you will make me a
woman."

She did not wait for a response. She continued to hold my cock
and began to rub it against the cleft of her cunt, as if trying
to put it inside her. I was dying inside, but never felt more
alive. I thought of Lily -- my God, what would she think if she
learned about this? And I thought about Lily's wonderful cunt,
and I was torn apart with desires.

I began to move my hips, my cock straining toward Nizhohni's
precious parts. I could feel her wet, and my cock slipped easily
up and down the cleft of her cunt, separating the lips. She
moaned quietly and released her grip on my cock, moving her hand
around behind my ass as if to pull me upward. For such a young
child, she seemed very certain about what to do and what she
wanted.

Her breathing came faster, and she turned onto her back and
parted her legs. "Make me a woman, Mister Carl," she whispered.

I tried to voice something stern and fatherly to her, but I was
too far gone. That was my last notion of will. I rolled on top of
her young, budding body, raised myself on my elbows, and looked
down at her face. The storm began to subside, but the rain fell
steadily. She looked back at me, her look clear and level,
expecting the biggest moment of her young life. I kissed her,
holding her head with both hands. A flash of lightning
illuminated her face briefly; her hair was dark and long, her
features fine and round, and her neck and shoulders thin.

I kissed her and moved upward, putting the head of my cock
against her opening. Her eyes widened, and she looked at me,
waiting. I pushed in farther, caught her wet, and pushed harder.
Reaching her virgin maiden, I moved my hips in small circles,
easing my way inside. Her hands moved suddenly to grip my upper
arms, she gave a slight exclamation, and I was in.

I moved slowly and gently up into her, as if trying to open a
ripe fruit without crushing it. She gave out a long, quiet groan,
and moaned in rhythm as I pushed a little deeper with each
stroke. My cock seemed to find the limit of her cunt, not all the
way in, but all I could <I>get</I> in. I held it there, feeling
her tight hole adjust to the exciting new feelings.

I felt a strange relief at having done it, and my mood lightened.
"Is that good?" I said to her. "Is this what you want?" Nizhohni
said nothing. Her breathing increased, and she grabbed my hips,
holding me inside her. I began to move, in and out, slowly, and
she wriggled her hips and thighs as if trying to accept the
invasion.

I began to fuck her faster, and I felt her cunt give and relax,
locking tight around my cock. I pushed harder and deeper, trying
to get it all inside her, and she began to cry out -- short,
breathy cries. And then we were fucking. Nizhohni began to
participate, pushing her cunt up to seek more of me, kissing me,
and moaning as pleasure washed over her in waves. Her cunt
radiated, the center of all things.

On we went, and I fucked her as hard as I dared, and she began to
cry for more. Her body stiffened and she gripped my arms tightly,
and her cunt tightened in heaven. I drew back and gave her all I
had, fucking her as I would a woman, and she fucked me back, not
as a woman, but as a child grown up. Her cries now were audible
and rose in tone as I drove into her.

I felt it building again, and I had enough sense to know to get
out. At the last possible stroke, I pulled my cock out of her.
She reached down and caught it as if to put it back in, and that
set off the explosion. I shot spoon after spoon of juice onto her
belly and cunt and hand, and I groaned like an animal, and she
cried "No, no, no, no."

I slipped to the side and lay next to her, catching my breath. I
put my hand on her chest and felt her heart beat. I thought I
heard her sniffle, and I said, "What's wrong, Nizhohni? Did I
hurt you?" The girl was quiet a long time. "No Mister Carl, you
did not hurt me. You were supposed to put it in me." When that
sank in, I cautioned her again about making babies, about
planting the seed, but that did not placate her. "I am not yet a
woman," she said, like a girl denied her ice cream. "You must
have me again. Please," she whispered.

I wanted to. Oh God, I really wanted to take this pure young
creature fully, giving her every inch, every ounce. I felt that
brief wave of love that follows a coupling, and I wanted more. I
wanted her all night.:

And then it struck me: Lily, Yanaha, and now Nizhohni. I was boss
of the ranch, but I'd given away the home front. And at right
that moment, I realized I'd made a terrible mistake with this
young girl, in more ways than one. Just suppose Yanaha had put
her up to this? I recalled the mother's schemes to get more
money. And if so, Lily would certainly hear the truth, and there
was no hiding it.

"Nizhohni," I said firmly. "Did your mother tell you to come in
here tonight?"

The girl began to weep quietly. She finally confessed that, yes,
her mother had told her to visit me and had told her how to touch
me. Beyond that, though, "pleasure overtook me, and then love. I
will have you inside me, Mister Carl."

"No, my sweet dear. We've done far more than we should have. Now,
I want you to go immediately back to your bed and go to sleep." I
threw in a shred of lost hope. "And not a word to her about what
we have done."

Poor Nizhohni was caught between forces she little understood,
but she obeyed. She tried to kiss me once more, but I pulled
away, and she walked off to her mother's bed, pulling my door
behind her. I felt sad, remorseful, angry, and still yet had some
growing affection for the little girl. I did not sleep.

At daybreak, I went in for breakfast, and Yanaha and Nizhohni
were busy in the kitchen. I made a show of heartiness and sat
down to wait for my plate. Yanaha sent Nizhohni out to bring
water.

"My Nizhohni," she said with what sounded like maternal pride.
"She is young and pretty, no?" I said nothing. "She came to you
last night, no?" Yanaha continued. "You took her, did you not? If
I were a man, I would have taken her."

She got right down to business. "That will be two dollars,
silver," the woman said. "I will take the money now."

I rose up from my chair, placed my hands on the table, and looked
her in the eye, my anger rising. "I will pay you nothing," I
said. "This was all <I>your</I> doing."

Yanaha glanced casually at the calendar on the wall, on which she
had marked her days worked toward the next payday. Month of July,
1896. She also had marked the days until Lily's return -- six
days to go. She spoke airily. "Missus Lillian will be back soon.
You will pay, sir. You will pay. And every night Nizhohni comes
to you, you will pay two dollars more. She is young and pretty."

I drew up. "You, woman, will not send that child to me again. In
fact, you are fired, as of now. Gone. Be out of my home before
sundown, you snake. Go back to your village and take Nizhohni as
well. And, damn you, please see that as she grows, she is treated
like a woman of respect.

Yanaha just smiled and said, "You will pay. One way or other, you
will pay."

"No ma'am," I said emphatically. "I will stay in the house all
day and will watch you closely. If you do not leave before
sundown, I will shoot you dead. You should begin now collecting
what is yours. I stepped to the calendar and counted the days she
had marked as on-duty. There were 20. I ciphered the figures
quickly, and the pay came to $4.50. I went to the back, opened my
small safe, and pulled out four silver dollars and one silver
half-dollar. Then I went back to the kitchen and counted out the
money for Yanaha. "This is your final pay," I said. "Now go."

Already I was dreaming up a story to explain Yanaha's discharge
to Lily. Yanaha counted the money and put it in a small purse she
carried. The purse was already full of silver. She realized the
game was up,  that she'd forced my hand to the limit, and that
was that. She rose and walked toward the small bedroom to gather
her things. I followed her.

Nizhohni came back from the pump with a bucket of water and set
it down. "Come, Nizhohni," her mother said, then continued
speaking to the child in Navajo. Nizhohni began to cry, real
tears. An hour later, under my watch, they had all their
possessions, and I led them to the front porch. "Run on down the
lane, Nizhohni," I said. "I have to tell your mother something."

The girl walked out a few paces. I turned to Yanaha and said,
"Not only are you gone, but you will not return. If I or my
overseer catch sight of you on this land again, we will shoot to
kill. You are not to return. Do you understand that."

Yanaha said nothing. She turned and walked after her daughter,
catching up. They went on down the lane and, I hoped, out of my
life. It was late morning. Yes, I still had some regret, even
some desire, for sweet, loving Nizhohni, but I realized nothing
good could come from that.

Lily would be home in six days. Until then, I was on my own.


