Womankind: Years of Sorrow

By Dia Lynne Cardo

This book is a creation demonstrating the strength and courage all women possess. It uses the American Indian woman as its basis. These women are ingenuous in coping with the sorrows in their lives.
The book brings out that a womans suffering may be brought about by the actions of powerful men. Or, is it her love and loyalty to these men that bring about her suffering? Does a woman have a choice?
My first character, Coyote Hunter thought so. You must decide for yourself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Sep 20, 2012
• ISBN: 9781477257036

Dia Lynne Cardo

Dia Lynne Cardo lives quietly. She spends most of her time with her pets, her writing, and her flowers. Her education is given to her from the lessons that life gives us all.

Book preview

Part One

Chapter One

Coyote Hunter was trotting and panting with her labor pains as she crossed the prairie in the hot Texas sun. She knew the babe was coming soon. She had strayed too far from the hut in her search for meat.

Her hunt was successful. She was an experienced tracker and had found a den of coyotes. The results hung from her hunting belt. There would be meat to eat while she recuperated from the imminent birth of her babe. She needed to make it back to the hut before the babe was born. She did not wish to become meat for hungry, wild animals when she was in her weakest moments of childbirth. Another tearing, labor pain reminded her that this babe was inpatient to be born; she trotted at a faster pace.

It felt as if a long time had passed before she reached the one–room hut. It provided only the most basic shelter and no comfort except for shade from the Texas sun. There was shade in the in the hot, stuffy hut. However, it was weak in structure like the man’s character who built it, her husband.

Her husband was in the fields working the hard Texas soil. Coyote Hunter did not call for him. He would be of no use. She did not need him. She hurriedly made her preparations to give birth. There wasn’t time, she was panting through each contraction now.

It was the Apache way to give birth alone. She was still Apache. She thought with a flash of anger, I may have been forced to marry this vicious, white man but I was not required to adopt his ways. She felt an agonizing pain rip through her abdomen. She accepted it joyfully. Good, the birth pains are coming closer and harder. It is nearly time to meet the new babe.

She squatted on the floor of the hut. She chanted to the Great Spirit for the birth of a strong son to satisfy her husband. As she chanted, her memories brought back the reason she was here with this white man. She had been given to her husband in an Apache trade deal. She left her tribe for the bride price of twenty wild horses. These horses fed her starving tribe for many moons. Her husband had made a handsome offer and had given her much honor, but Coyote Hunter rued the day he had noticed her at the pond while she was bathing.

She could not understand why he traded for her. It was obvious he was unhappy with his end of the bargain. She had asked herself many times, Why would he pay such a high bride price for me if he intended only to abuse me? Surely, all white men are not the same. If they are, then my heart grieves for all of my sisters who have met the same fate.

An Apache man would have held her close to his heart; he would have shown a deep pride, unique only to him, in owning her. Her beauty was great. She had long, raven hair to her waist that glistened with midnight blue highlights. Her eyes were large, thick-lashed, and snapping black; they reflected her moods. She was still slender, in spite of her pregnancy. She was a beautiful young woman.

Coyote Hunter believed she was worthy of something better than her Husband. She realized that these thoughts were not praiseworthy. All Apaches know not to question the Great Spirit’s ways. Coyote Hunter must believe she had been honored. She had been used by the Great Spirit to save her people from starvation. Her husband, Mitch, had been used as well. She must respect that.

She reached down between her legs. She loosened the babe’s shoulder from her vaginal canal. It was nearly time for the birth. She could see the babe’s hair color now, raven like her own. She was joyous; it was not blonde like her husband’s. She prayed from her heart that the babe did not have the white man’s light eyes.

She felt a strong urge to push down but she cautioned herself to be patient and allow her body to bring forth the babe naturally. She would find out the sex of the babe soon. After another gripping pain, she felt the pain of the babe sliding through her birth canal. She suffered through an intense ripping sensation the length of her birth canal. Happiness flooded through her. The Apache believed this ripping was a sign of a lucky birth. Her babe would not be born dead. She would have a large, healthy baby.

She had hoped for this. She had made the necessary preparations. She had gathered the absorbable lint that grew wild on the prairie for packing wounds. This lint would stop the bleeding and allow healing.

She had followed the old ways in all of her preparations for this birth. These ways had been taught to her by the elderly Apache women. She took into her heart every word they spoke.

She had prepared everything the babe would need; most of them by using the coyote skins from her hunts. She made all of the clothes, blankets, loin cloths and a special carrying sling for the babe. Coyote Hunter made no sound as the babe slid the rest of the way out of her birth canal. She saw that she was mother to a daughter. The babe had sharp black eyes and did not cry. Coyote Hunter examined her babe and felt a surge of protectiveness enter into her heart and soul. She thought, This babe is strong. She will make a fine hunter. Coyote Hunter placed her in a sling that held the babe next to her breast and left her own arms free. The babe nuzzled and began to nurse.

The babe was born on an auspicious day for the Apaches. It was the day the prairie flowers opened their purple blossoms to reach for the early morning, gentle rays of sunlight. Coyote Hunter decided to call the babe Prairie Blossom until she earned her spirit name. It was the Apache way.

Coyote Hunter was only ten years old when she earned her spirit name. Her gift for running was made evident by the Great Spirit when he allowed her to outrun her first coyote, butcher it and bring it back to her starving tribe. The Medicine Man renamed her Coyote Hunter and gave her the right to hunt with spear and knife. There was a powerful ceremony. His chanting was loud as he prayed to the spirits. It was important that they hear and know her as a female hunter in the Great Beyond.

Prairie Blossom must be introduced to the Spirit World very soon. Coyote Hunter would take her before anything could happen to her. She must be known by the spirits if she were to return again should something befall her and take her life.

Coyote Hunter could hardly wait for the ceremony. There would be much joy and feasting to celebrate the birth of the babe. The Medicine Man would chant and he would pass his holy, fragrant smoke over the babe. He would name the babe, Prairie Blossom, officially for the spirits. She would ask the Medicine Man to chant to the spirits for a powerful spirit name and the power to defeat her enemy when the time came. Coyote Hunter felt that she was only beseeching the spirits for what was destined to happen in the babe’s future. She would have a name even more powerful than her mother’s name. She was born with knowledge. It was evident in her eyes; they were keen, sharp, and intuitive.

She would leave for the ceremony at dawn. It was only a two day trot for Coyote Hunter. She wanted to see her people and for them to see Prairie