My fondness for the girl, I now called Umyu, grew. She repeated to me often, Margaret, meaning that it was her name. But I could not call the female before me this name. Margaret sounded ugly to my ears. I called her what I wanted, Umyu, meaning, to me, breath of many flowers.
In time, when we took our night’s rest, she allowed me to thread lightly my arm between her arm and waist (her back to me). More often she’d allow it when it was cold, when the rain turned white and covered deep the mountainsides.
Several seasons of hot and cold passed. With good frequency, Umyu now allowed my hand to pull her tight in and caress her maturing body, often until she panted. But still, she refused me, stopping short of mating; whereupon, often I’d spring to my feet and yell out, in good imitation of the hairy men we lived among. With hard blows, I beat my chest with frustration.
Even though I had a companion, still Baday when the need was upon her to mate came to me, inflicting wounds that took months to heal. It was a mean and twisted game she played with me. Once I spied Umyu peeking through the tree branches while I fought Baday. She allowed the branches snap back upright when I saw her. I wondered if she thought I gave in and did as Baday wished. I don’t know, for I didn’t speak to Umyu of such things. Maybe, I reasoned, it was why she’d not have me as mate.
For all the moons and seasons that had passed, I believed Umyu was attached tight to me. She seldom strayed far from my side. I enjoyed believing that, anyway. I did not worry over much about her running back to where Lome had abducted her. So, she was free to walk her own way during the day.
At this time it is good to say that she could have never found her way back, for we were deep into the high mountains, mountains shrouded in clouds and mists most days....
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