The sun's rays painted a long oval of light on the floor of the meeting tent, which was covered with blankets and furs and on which my things were also spread out. I looked questioningly at the Indian in front of me, who had a feather in his hair. I assumed he was the chief because he had spoken to me first. Now he nodded to the old man next to him, whose tent I had already visited. It was probably his wife who bandaged my ankle. He looked up at me steadily. Deep lines had formed around his eyes and mouth.
"What your name?" he ground out.
I stared at him. Did I misheard or did he just speak to me in English?
"What your name?" he repeated in his broken English when I didn't answer.
I almost cried with relief. English! He actually spoke English. Finally I could talk to someone, even if he had a heavy accent and I had to struggle to understand him.
"My name is Marie," I said.
"Ma-lie?" he asked.
I nodded, realizing there were more important things right now than teaching him how to pronounce my name correctly. My heart was pounding with excitement.
"Tatanka Wakon," he said, pointing to himself. "The Mazzukata," he nodded to the man with the quill. "Chief of the Lakota."
I repeated the words in my head to memorize the names.
"You're not from here?" he asked. He spoke slowly and haltingly, since he obviously didn't have much practice in speaking the language.
I shook my head. "No."
"Ohitika find you in Cheha Sapa... Black Mountains."
Ohitika? I glanced over at the young Indian who was still standing next to me. Was that his name? His expression remained impenetrable. He wasn't looking at me, but he seemed to be listening intently.
"Yes, in the Black Hills. I was in a cave... and then the bear came..." I had to search for the English words and didn't know if he really understood me. Then I dared to ask a question myself. "Where is the next one city ​​of... the white man?"
He frowned even more. "Washychu? White?"
I nodded.
"Washyhoo not here. Here land of the Lakota. How white girls get into Lakota country?"
I shrugged my shoulders. If only I knew! And explaining it to him was probably beyond both of our English skills.
He spoke briefly and quickly to the chief next to me, apparently telling him what we had just discussed. The chief replied, and Tatanka Wakon spoke to me again.
"You have great secrets," he said.
I looked at him blankly. With a movement of his arm, he pointed to my things spread out in front of them. "Secrets?" I asked, thinking I hadn't heard correctly.
He took the book in his wrinkled hands and opened it. He seemed almost in awe. "Know a lot about Lakota," he said, pausing when he reached a page of old black-and-white photographs. There was a proud man in a feathered crown, a sad-eyed girl, a family standing in front of a tipi... .
"Wakan," he murmured, running a bony forefinger down the page. "Great spell." I could only explain his astonishment by the fact that he had never seen a photo.

"Ohitika think you are..." He seemed to be searching for a word, "Spies of Vashishu. Coming to steal our secrets."
"What?" I asked, horrified. So that was why he had gotten angry. "No," I hastened to say. "I don't want to steal anything. I just want to go home." Again I had to choke back the stupid tears that tried to force their way out. I gritted my teeth and tried to stay strong, to keep my cool in front of Tatanka Wakon and the others. All of them watched me carefully, I could feel their eyes on me from all sides. "I just want to go home," I repeated in a whisper.
"Where is his home?" he asked. His voice was softer. Maybe he had sensed my desperation.
"In Germany, behind the big water. In a city called Cologne."
Old Tatanka Wakon nodded slowly. “Tatanka Wakon know Vashichu cities. I visit her a long time ago. I was a young warrior."
Oh dear. Has it really been that long since he'd been in a town? I could hardly imagine that. But I kept quiet and kept listening.
“By the great water where the sun sets. More and more Vashichun come by ship, come by wagon, seek Mazaskazi, their yellow metal." His black eyes grew dim, as if he were seeing something only he could see. "Vashichu like a great cloud of locusts Whole country, hundreds, thousands. More than all the Lakota and Assiniboine and Cheyenne combined. But they ain't in Lakota country yet. Many winters ago, our chiefs make treaty with Vashishu. Say all land around Cheha Sapa and west of Minisose belongs to Lakota ."
He looked at me and now his gaze was piercing. “But now we hear stories of Vashishou invading our country, wanting more and more. And know all about the Lakota.” He pointed to my book again. “You preparing for a fight?”
I widened my eyes. While I wasn't very knowledgeable about history, I was aware of the many treaties the white man had with the chiefs of the Indian tribes that the white man had repeatedly broken. But that was all over a hundred years ago. The queasy feeling in my stomach increased. Had I not only been beamed to a different place...but also to a different time? Oh my God. I really needed to know what year it was. But I didn't think anyone here owned a calendar.
I realized that Tatanka Wakon was still looking at me, waiting for my answer. What had he just asked?
"Er... a fight? I...I don't know. I mean no. Definitely not." I couldn't antagonize them under any circumstances, otherwise they would end up putting me at the stake. "The book... that's just, um, because we want to know how the Lakota live they can visit. Like me." I gestured helplessly and fell silent. What was I talking about?
The old man conferred with the chief again and I prayed they didn't decide I was trying to spy on them. I laced my fingers tightly in front of my stomach. My hands were sweating.
They talked to each other for a long time. Even the other men in the circle now joined in. It went back and forth. Everyone was allowed to say something without interrupting anyone else. Still, I thought I heard one of the younger men raise his voice while gesturing angrily. He sat at the very end of the circle near the entrance and had a rather broad, soft face. At the moment, the corners of his mouth were turned down, making it look like he'd bitten into something gross. And while he wasn't looking directly at me, I saw him keep giving me looks that were anything but friendly. He wore a necklace of several rows of bones.
And then Ohitika spoke beside me. Ohitika. I liked the name. It rolled off the tongue so easily and I found it kinda...fitting. Even if I had no idea what it meant. He spoke with a soft edge, looking at the young man who had just finished his tirade. His black eyes almost sparkled like onyx flint, but his demeanor and voice remained composed, calm. They locked eyes with each other. I could feel the tension between the two and would have loved to know what they were arguing about.
The chief, Mazzukata, listened in silence. Finally, he raised his hand to interrupt further speeches. The tipi fell silent. I could hear my own heartbeat pounding in my ears and hardly dared look the chief in the face.
He said something to me in Lakota, which Tatanka Wakon translated. "We do not believe that Vashichou will send girls as scouts. But we also don't know what secret you carry with you. That's why we can't let you go. You will stay here, live in Ohitika's tent, who found you. You will learn our language and tell us the secrets of the Vashichu. Chief Mazzutaka has spoken."
I felt my mouth drop open and quickly shut it again. The words didn't make sense — at least I couldn't believe I heard right. You wanted to keep me here as a prisoner? Until I could speak their language and told them my secrets? What secrets? It could all only be a dream! A nightmare.
But no matter how many times I tried to pinch myself, I didn't wake up.