now altogether awake, with people heading in the same direction that she was, men washing, shaving, bustling about half-dressed. There was no sign of the women, but she suspected they were either clearing up their tents or wagons, or dressing in more privacy than the men seemed to need.
She made a turn that she remembered and found herself not only at the edge of the Indian encampment, but nearly face-to-face with Leading Fox.
“Rawah, Kiwaku Rahiraskaawarii,” she said without thinking. Then her hand flew to her mouth as she realized that she had greeted him in Pawnee!
And she also understood in that moment that the real translation of his name was more complicated than “Leading Fox.” “Fox Roaming the World In The Lead” or “As The Leader.” Given how far he was from home . . . well that seemed almost supernaturally apt.
“Guten Morgen, Fraulein Giselle,” Leading Fox replied, with an almost imperceptible smile and in faultless German. “I told you we would have each others’ tongues in the morning.”
“But why could you not have done this with Herr Kellerman?” she asked. And then snapped her fingers. “Of course. Because he is not a—” she sought in her new language for the right word for “Elemental Master” “—a Medicine Chief.”
“Even so.” Leading Fox nodded. “Now that I have mastery of your tongue, however, I shall use a similar, but longer means to give it to the Captain. Even though I trust Herr Kellerman, there should be more than one of our company that speaks both German and English.”
“And Pawnee?” she asked. Leading Fox smiled a very little.
“Captain Cody is the genuine article, a working Scout,” Fox replied, this time in English. “He speaks tolerable Pawnee of both dialects, Apache in Chirakawa and Mescalaro, and Lakota Sioux. I believe he has a few words in several other languages.”
“Enough to get by. Mornin’ Fox, Miz Giselle.” The Captain himself strolled around the side of a tent in the “cowboy” section and tipped his hat to her. “Looks like your witchery worked.”
“Tolerably, old friend. Tolerably. Shall we escort our new sharpshooter to breakfast before the plague of locusts devours everything in sight?” Leading Fox replied with a faintly raised eyebrow. With a laugh, Cody pulled off his hat and waved them ahead of him.
As soon as she entered the mess tent, Giselle realized that Leading Fox’s wry comment about “the plague of locusts” was not altogether out of line. Unlike last night, when people had been eating methodically, but not ravenously, the members of the show seemed to be frantically gulping down food as fast as they could. Bracketed between Fox and Cody, she was at least able to get her tin dish full of fried eggs, bread, and bacon without being trampled, although she was unable to reach the pancakes being served, and there were already piles of tin mugs and pots of coffee waiting at the table where Cody guided her. She took her place at the end, next to a dark-complexioned woman with a great mass of blue-black hair who greeted her with a cheerful “Buenos dias, senorita,” and went back to eating eggs with some sort of flat, thin, pancake-like bread.
“Right, now that we can palaver, I can tell you where you’ll be fittin’ inter the show,” Cody said, after pouring his cup, Fox’s, and hers full of black, steaming coffee. “Sugar?”
“Please—” she said, and dumped two lumps into the ebony liquid.
“You’ll come in with the Grand Parade, of course. We’ll gussy up your mare to look like ours. Then there’s the cattle drive, the campfire and songs, then the Injuns attack and stampede the cattle. You’ll come on after that for some straight-up target-shootin’. Then we’ll have the Injun war dance. You’ll be a squaw—we got black wigs you can wear, if you can stuff your hair under one. We ain’t got any real Injun gals—” here he glanced over at Fox, who nodded.
“Only our men were willing to travel so far from home,” Leading Fox said, quietly. “There are few enough Pawnee as it is. The Mexican ladies have been standing in for Pawnee women.”
“I figgered since you kin speak Pawnee now, you wouldn’t mind bein’ a Injun in the show,” Cody added. “Anyway, after the war dance, the camp packs up an’ the settler wagon comes on, an’ the Injuns attack the settlers. The cowpokes drive ’em off, everybody leaves th’ arena, an’ then you do a trick-shot turn, finishin’ up with the mirror shot. Then we