Child of the Dead (28 page)

Now, with the preparation for the ceremonies of the Sun Dance in full swing, her plans became more specific. Those who might have noticed her activities were distracted by other duties and interests. The brush arbor that would house the ceremony was under construction. Open-sided, built of poles and lashings, oriented to the east.

The family of the Real-chief was responsible for the procuring of the symbolic buffalo bull. Ever since their arrival at the site, young men of the extended family had been riding out to search for that special animal. Already, others were constructing the effigy at the end of the rectangular arbor. It could be seen taking shape as willow sticks were skillfully interwoven and tied to represent the great bull. Then at the proper time the kill would be made. The skin and the head would be placed
in a lifelike position over the frame, to be left as an offering after the Sun Dance had ended and the People departed.

The day came when the keeper of the sacred bundles made the circuit of the camp, announcing the coming ceremonies. Four dawns this pre-dance ritual would continue, as the priest circled the area, chanting the announcement and blowing his eagle-bone whistle while his assistant kept cadence on a small drum.

That was good. Gray Mouse knew that now the entire sequence for the next ten days had been set in motion. There would be no diversion from the prescribed ritual. It was on this preoccupation that she had based her plans for departure.

There was another part to her deception, too. Through the seasons, she had become acquainted with young people in the other bands. There were numerous relatives of the family of Running Deer, especially in the Eastern and Northern bands. There were close family friends, too, such as Caddo Talker, an adopted Head Splitter of the Red Rocks band. He had been an almost-brother of Running Deer’s late husband, it was said.

All of these relatives and close friends had children or grandchildren of about the age of Gray Mouse. She had known them through the years, playing together as children each season during the Sun Dance gatherings.

This time, she had gone to great pains. It must be apparent that she was associating with the young women of the other bands. Yet it must not be
too
noticeable. She did not wish to draw attention to herself.

It was not too difficult. She had contrived a quarrel with Antelope, which would justify her spending more time with the other young women. That had been the hardest part, seeing the hurt in his eyes. She fought down the urge to run to him, to explain. Maybe he would understand and forgive her someday. It was painful to think that it did not matter. She would be far away, and Antelope might never know …

She spent an afternoon with White Rose of the Northern band, another playing with the children of Otter Woman, a cousin of Wolf and Beaver Track. It did not matter who, as long as she established the pattern. But she found that it was pleasant to visit so. She enjoyed
talking with Rose, who was about her own age, and to be married in the fall. They exchanged ideas about decorating garments, and the desirability of the new glass beads of the traders versus the more traditional quill-work. The plans of the other woman for her own lodge caused a pang of regret in the heart of Mouse. She tried to find joy in the happiness of her friend, but it was hard. Mouse tried not to think of what might have been.

The first day of the Sun Dance would be the time to depart. The first day would be so filled with emotion and excitement that no one would notice anything. Then, though the ceremonies would go on continually day and night for several more days, there would be a growing emotional draining, an exhaustion. People would begin to notice again.

She had no idea how long it might be before her absence might be noticed. Maybe a day, maybe more. But the longer it took, the greater the chances that she might elude those who would try to stop her. With this in mind, she initiated her plan the afternoon of the day before First Day.

“Grandmother,” she said, as casually as possible, “I am going to visit White Rose tonight. I am helping her with her dress.”

“It is good,” Running Deer smiled. She was pleased that Mouse was involved with thinking of marriage and the establishment of a new lodge. Even though it was the marriage of another, this appeared to be a step in the right direction. She knew that Mouse and her suitor had had a lovers’ quarrel, but that was to be expected. Maybe this contact with the happiness of another young woman would put things right.

Mouse had picked up her sleeping robe and a small bundle.

“You are staying with Rose tonight?” asked Deer.

“Yes, Grandmother. She has many things to talk about, no?”

Both women chuckled.

“Yes, child. It is good., Remember, though, the Sun Dance is tomorrow.”

“Of course, Grandmother. We will come to the ceremonies together.”

Running Deer nodded, pleased. There had been a time when the girl seemed almost unsociable …

Gray Mouse made her way through the camp by a circuitous route, trying to act as normally as she could. No one seemed to notice her. People were coming and going constantly. Even carrying a robe and a bundle, she attracted little attention. A pair of old women noticed her, and one nudged the other and smiled.

‘That one goes to meet a lover,” she chuckled.

The two laughed softly at their understanding of the girl’s secret.

“She is pretty,” one said. “Who is she?”

“I never saw her before,” the other replied. “Another band, probably.”

“Yes. She leaves the camp through another band than her own, to escape notice.”

“You talk as if you know about such things, Pine Leaf,” her companion teased.

“Well, I have some memories, you know,” the other retorted. “And I remember a time when I helped you and Broken Shield …”

“Hush! That was a long time ago.”

“Ah! And your husband does not know …”

“Hush, I said!”

The two old women giggled again and watched the girl as she disappeared in the trees along the river.

Gray Mouse had chosen the specific places that she needed for her plan. First, she went to a well-hidden spot in a plum thicket some distance from the camp, and deposited her pack and sleeping robe. It would be safe. Anyone who chanced to find it would recognize it as the property of another and respect it. She picked up her saddle, previously hidden here, and hurried on.

Mouse threaded her way through the heavy growth to emerge into the open at another point, near the horse herd. She waved to a distant youth who was acting as herdsman, caught her bay gelding, and quickly saddled.

It must appear, now, that she was merely going for a ride. Since she had done so before, that should not be difficult. The previous rides, however, had served a multiple purpose. She knew exactly where she would picket the horse. A quick glance at the sun’s position … Yes,
it was going well. Now to leave the horse tied in the gully she had selected, and spend some time with Rose … It would help if her story was as close to the truth as possible.

Shadows were growing long when Mouse left the lodge of her friend’s parents. She headed directly toward the area of the Southern band’s camp, but when she was out of sight, altered her path. Dusk was falling when she reached her cache. It took only a little while to assemble her equipment, including a small ax and a short bow and quiver of arrows that she had hidden previously. Even so, it was nearly full dark when she approached her horse, some distance downstream.

She rode to the top of a rise and paused to look down on the camp of the People. Hundreds of tiny sparks in the darkness marked their cooking fires. Here and there, a lodge cover glowed with the warm light of a fire inside. Mouse had always loved that sight, more noticeable in winter, when all lodges had fires inside.
Where will I spend this winter?
she wondered.
With my own people?

The moon was just rising as Mouse drew rein and dismounted at Medicine Rock. She must not be too long … She did not
want
to be. There was no way to explain her wish to pause here, except that it seemed appropriate. Here there must be such powerful spirits, such strength. Power that she would need in her quest.

Above her, the cliff towered, grim and forbidding. She fought down the urge to run, to mount and ride away as fast as the bay could carry her. She had never been this close to the Rock, and its spirits seemed to reach out at her from the darkness.

Deliberately, she turned her back on the threat and drew out the little handful of twigs and tinder that she had prepared. It took only a moment to strike a spark and blow it into flame. She laid the fire carefully on the sand bar, added a few sticks, then a pinch of tobacco to honor whatever spirits might dwell here.

Then she stood, looking up at the flickering firelight on the gray stone. She raised her arms …

“Help me,” she prayed. “Help me to find my people.”

Her tiny fire was already dying when she remounted and turned the horse toward the place where a narrow path led up and around the rock and would enable her to travel to the north.

They reached the top, and she reined in the bay to let him catch his wind for a moment while she sighted her course by the Real-star. A rustling, shuffling noise caught her attention, and fear gripped her heart. Someone or some
thing
was following her along the narrow trail up the cleft in the bluff.

Mouse was instantly ready to dig heels into the flank of the bay and flee across the prairie. Only the reaction of the horse prevented her from doing so. The animal pricked up his ears, turned to look in the direction of the trail he had just ascended, and gave a friendly snort.

The creature that lifted itself over the rim was no fearful spirit-being. It was Yellow Dog.

D
ark Antelope was troubled. He was still smarting over the quarrel that had marred this Sun Dance celebration for him. It was beyond understanding, how that could have happened so suddenly. He had thought that he and Gray Mouse were on good terms. They had not actually talked of marriage, but there had been broad hints. Somehow he had assumed that soon they
would
discuss it.

He knew that his father, Singing Wolf, had discussed the propriety with Running Deer. True, there was some confusion about their friendship. It was like a brother-sister relationship, yet that was not true. He and Mouse were not related by blood at all. They had grown up in different lodges. So when the question arose in the minds of the parents, it had been discussed and the decision made. Antelope’s father had informed him that it had been decided. A courtship was permissible.

That had surprised the young man, because he was not ready. He was still enjoying the friendship. But yes, as he had begun to think about it, there was a great attraction. Little Mouse was turning into a strikingly beautiful woman. As the transformation continued, he found that he could not tolerate the thought of this beautiful girl in the arms of anyone else. He could see no man worthy of her. Since Mouse had not seemed
interested in any of her various suitors, it had not become a problem. In fact, they had laughed together in secret over the bumbling attempts of some of the young men. This being the case, Antelope had not felt the need to push a courtship.

Maybe that was the problem
, he pondered now, on this first day of the Sun Dance.
Maybe she wished
… But there was no use worrying about that now. The quarrel had been several days ago. He had not seen her since. Not to talk to, anyway. He had avoided Mouse because of the hurt, which he had no desire to experience again.

How strange it had been. He and Mouse were simply talking, making light conversation, when he noticed that nothing he said was accepted. A comment on the beautiful day was challenged by the curt remark, “It will probably rain!”

This was so completely unlike Gray Mouse that he was caught off guard. Then it had happened quickly. Maybe he should not have been so impatient.

“Mouse, what is it? What is the matter with you?” he had demanded.

As if that were a signal, the girl had seemed to fly into a rage.

“If you do not know,” she screamed at him, “I will surely not tell you!”

She whirled and marched away, anger showing in every motion, in the swing of her hips and the length of her stride. Antelope was crushed and bewildered. The incident had taken place in public, with many witnesses. Some of these people were laughing at him and he retreated quickly to be alone and try to remember what he had said or done.

Antelope could think of nothing. He must talk to someone, a man. His father was too busy with his responsibilities as a holy man, preparing for the Sun Dance. He sought out his uncle, Beaver Track.

“Uncle,” he began, “I would speak with you.”

“Of course, Antelope. What is it?”

“It is about Gray Mouse.” Quickly, he blurted out his story of the public quarrel … “And then she walked away!” he finished.

Beaver Track’s first reaction was a howl of laughter.

Antelope’s face burned with embarrassment, and he turned to go. “Forgive me, Uncle, for asking your help!” he shot back over his shoulder.