Daughter of the Eagle (11 page)

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Authors: Don Coldsmith

BOOK: Daughter of the Eagle
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The exploits of
Running Eagle were perhaps less known to her own people than to the enemy. It was known that the girl and her ever-present companion, Long Walker, were constantly going on some obscure war party. The two would return, quietly state their deeds at the warriors' circle, and be gone again.
There were some who listened with a degree of disbelief as they recited their honors and kills of the enemy. Of course it was difficult
not
to believe when the pair returned driving bands of captured horses. The personal herds of Running Eagle and Long Walker increased constantly.
Yet even with many fine animals to choose from Running Eagle continued to ride the rawboned gelding, Owl Dung. It was understood by the People that this was a part of her vows to avenge her brother. The horse had been his, so it now carried his avenger.
As to the rest of her vows, there was little agreement. It was said that she remained celibate, and this observation was strengthened by the attitude of Long Walker. The young man appeared devoted and loyal, but he was obviously
frustrated. This also led to much speculation about the duration of Running Eagle's vows of vengeance. She appeared no nearer the fulfillment of her purpose than she had ever been.
This was a constant concern to her friend Long Walker. Initially he had hoped that her thirst for vengeance would weaken, that she would begin to see her purpose accomplished. He attempted to encourage this view as much as he dared, praising each success and implying that surely now Bobcat was avenged. Finally Running Eagle spoke to him sternly.
“Walker, I will say when it is over! Until then, I ride against the Head Splitters.”
Walker nodded helplessly. “And I ride with you?”
“Of course!”
She flashed him the dazzling smile which had come to make their relationship all the more painful. She nudged Owl Dung in the ribs and moved forward to drive their newly captured horses toward the camp.
Aiee,
Long Walker mused. She enjoys this too much. He had sometimes seen her large dark eyes flash like real-fire as she prepared an attack. The ripple of her laughter as they sorted and divided the spoils of a raid was like a knife in his heart.
Still, the laughter was for him and for the things they shared. Long Walker only wished that they could share much more. It was difficult to be content with their companionship and their effort together as a fighting unit.
Long Walker had to admit, of course, that their skill as warriors was a thing of great pleasure to him. Their success was a thing in which to take pride. No one, he thought, could remember a more effective fighting team, their skills so perfectly complemented to each other. Bow, lance, war club, knife, skill with Elk-dogs—all were a part of their combined approach. Running Eagle's strategy was often so imaginative, so well fitted to the customs and habits of the enemy as well as to their own skills, that he never ceased to
marvel. The girl had an uncanny ability to evaluate a situation and utilize everything to her advantage.
Gradually his cautious arguments after each encounter weakened, and the two assumed a stable relationship. Long Walker still clung to the dream of an end to the girl's campaign, but it became easier to postpone. He gloried in their time together, exclusively with each other. They talked of many things. They teased, laughed, rode, ate, and slept.
Sometimes they even snuggled together for warmth against the chill of the prairie night. This was most frustrating of all for Long Walker. He longed to hold the girl as a man holds a woman, in the fulfillment of marriage. Yet he knew that he must not. Even if he were able to persuade her, he would be guilty of breaking one of the strongest customs of the People. To encourage another to break a sacred vow would be extremely bad medicine.
So their relationship grew and prospered in this strange way. They became more and more a part of each other, even though kept apart by the vows of Running Eagle.
The two had stopped to trade for supplies with some Growers, several sleeps from their own band, when they learned of a new development.
“You are Running Eagle?” the woman asked as she offered her dried corn for the meat they had brought.
Long Walker answered with another question. “What do you know of Running Eagle?”
“That she brings vengeance against the Head Splitters.”
The woman's attitude was completely noncommittal. The Growers traded freely with all comers and considered themselves entirely neutral. Only so could they survive in permanent locations amid the various warlike nomads of the plains.
“Some young men were here looking for you,” she continued.
Instantly Running Eagle was alert. “Head Splitters?”
“No, no, your own tribe.”
“What did they want?”
“They wished to ride with you, to ride against the Head Splitters.”
Running Eagle was confused. It had not occurred to her that her campaign was more than a private foray. That young warriors would seek her out to follow as their leader was a new idea, and somewhat flattering.
“Where are they now?”
The woman shrugged. “Who knows about young men? We told them where your People are camped.”
“You
told
them? They are not of our band?”
“No. Theirs is the band of a chief called Rides-the-Wind.” She pointed northeast.
“The
Northern
band?” Long Walker interjected. “How did they know of Running Eagle?”
The woman smiled. “Everyone on the plains knows of Running Eagle. The Head Splitters talk much of her. They call her Crazy Woman, but they are afraid.”
Embarrassed, the woman became silent, as if she had said too much and violated her position of neutrality.
Excited yet puzzled, the two left the Growers and set their trail for the camp of their own band. This was becoming a far bigger thing than it seemed at first.
“Would you let them ride with us, Running Eagle?”
“I do not know. I think not. But,
aiee
, we could lead a raid they would remember for their grandchildren to hear of!”
She looked straight ahead, but Long Walker saw that there was an excited glitter in her eyes. The old feeling of alarm came creeping back as he recognized the sign. It was the way she looked when she was planning her attack strategy.
Long Walker said nothing, but his heart became heavy. It was not good. He did not wish to see her so pleased and excited over the prospect of a major campaign. Again came the warning thought, the feeling that she was enjoying all this too much for her own good.
Where would it all end? With the death or capture of Running Eagle? There was little to make Long Walker feel otherwise.
Running Eagle and
Long Walker topped the last rise and looked down on the Elk-dog band's summer camp. For some time they had seen the gray haze of smoke from cooking fires as it hung near the horizon.
The riders paused for a moment to observe the scattered lodges in the meadow near the river. Something had changed remarkably since their most recent departure, a few suns ago.
“Aiee,”
observed Long Walker, “the band has grown!”
The loosely organized bands of the People varied constantly in size and composition. Basically they were formed around a respected chief and his family's friends and relatives. Still, there was a constant shifting of allegiance. Good fortune or misfortune to a band might cause a few warriors to move with their families to join another group for a season.
Of course some ne'er-do-wells constantly remained disgruntled at their status and changed their alliance nearly every summer. These were not a special asset to the band, and little was expected of them.
On the other hand, able warriors or adventurous young men might choose to spend a season with the band of a popular chief or subchief. The shifting fortunes of political prestige, admiration for a chief's reputation, or merely a search for adventure with an aggressive leader might be motives.
Now the returning warriors noted that the increase in the size of the band was largely in the bend of the stream, to the west of the main camp. Running Eagle observed that the dwellings were of brush; they were temporary summer shelters. That would mean that these were probably young warriors seeking excitement. There were no families with them. For a moment she wondered what had been occurring in the Elk-dog band to attract such a following.
At that moment the two riders were sighted from below, and a great shout went up. A number of men leaped to their horses and rushed to meet the newcomers.
They streamed across the meadow and up the slope with reckless abandon, singing, shouting, and performing feats of daring horsemanship to attract attention. Snatches and partial phrases of their jubilant cries began to be distinguishable.
“—has struck the enemy to hurt him—”
“—feared by all Head Splitters—”
“—mightiest of warriors—”
“—we ride with Running Eagle!”
The girl's mouth dropped open in astonishment. Here were at least twenty young warriors swearing allegiance to her as leader. She glanced at Long Walker, only to see his face darkly marked by displeasure. Her own feelings were mixed. She could not help but feel flattered, yet something in her resented interference. Her vows of vengeance had been a private, a personal thing. Somehow this public adulation was a threat to her.
Now the young men were surrounding the pair, still singing, some voicing the full-throated war cry of the People. They moved on toward the camp. Children ran to
meet the party, accompanied by yapping dogs. Excitement was high.
It was some time before Running Eagle could tear herself away from her admirers and make her way to the lodge of her parents. There she spent a pleasant interlude, exchanging news while her mother prepared food. Most exciting, of course, was the talk of her growing band of followers.
Young warriors had been arriving almost daily, her father related. Most were from the Northern band, closest of the other groups. Some, however, were from the Mountain and the Red Rocks bands. There were many family ties with these groups. Two young men had come all the way from the Eastern band, known for its eccentric behavior and different customs.
“What do you think of all this, Father?”
Eagle spread upturned palms in a broad shrug of puzzlement. “Who knows, Daughter? When has such a thing happened before?”
Not since Heads Off brought the first Elk-dog, both knew. Young men and older men with families had gravitated toward this, the Southern band. That was when the name change occurred, because of the special circumstances. It had become the most prestigious of the bands and had been called the Elk-dog band ever since. So important was the acquisition of the horse that often the entire tribe was now called the Elk-dog People by other groups.
Running Eagle was still confused by her conflicting emotions. “But what should I do?”
“Whatever you wish. I think they would follow you anywhere.”
“Would that take power from our chiefs?”
“I think not, Eagle Woman.”
The girl elected not to notice her father's use of her former name.
“Their authority is a different thing,” he continued. “It is for the entire band. If you do not break any of the council's rules, who is to care?”
Long Walker, when he came by after darkness had fallen, was much more pessimistic. The two strolled along the stream in silence for a time, then stopped to talk. They were very near the spot where the girl had discarded her cooking stones.
“Running Eagle, you must stop this thing!”
It was the first time he had spoken so for some time, and she was instantly defensive.
“What do you mean?”
“Tell the young men to go home.”
“I will decide that,” she snapped. “They come to follow me!”
“But, Eagle,” he pleaded. “These are thrill seekers. They will not be good warriors.”
“Are you afraid their skill is greater than yours?” she taunted.
“No, no.” He shook his head. “It is only that now you can never be alone. Anywhere you go, you will be followed by these young men. You cannot fulfill your vows, because they will be interfering. Give it up, Running Eagle. You have killed enough Head Splitters.”
In her heart she knew that he was right, but she was furious that he would attempt to convince her. Angrily she turned on him.
“Walker, you cannot tell me when my vows are fulfilled,” she almost screamed at him. “If you do not wish to ride with me, there are many who do!”
She stumbled away in the night, glad that the darkness hid the glisten of tears on her cheeks. Why had she treated her friend this way? Each time, it seemed, that they were on the verge of becoming close, something happened to spoil it.
Suddenly an idea occurred to her. She would go and talk to Owl. Her uncle had always been able to give understanding and advice.
She turned aside, made her way among the lodges, and finally stopped before the medicine man's dwelling. She tapped on the taut skin lodge cover.
“Uncle,” she called, “it is Running Eagle!”
Willow drew back the door skin for the girl to enter and beckoned her inside. It was late, time to retire, but the couple knew that the young relative had a need.
Running Eagle glanced at young Rabbit, already sleeping peacefully on a pile of robes. The girl turned back to her uncle. Owl sat smoking, relaxed, waiting. He had some idea what was bothering the young woman but waited to hear.
“Uncle, you must help me!” she blurted.
Rapidly her story poured forth, venting all the frustration and dilemma. Not all, perhaps. She omitted how badly she wanted to go to Long Walker for comfort and companionship. She did not understand how she could make decisions without hesitation in combat but not in her life.
Owl was silent a long time, but finally spoke. “Daughter, these choices are yours. All that you say is true. These young men are thrill seekers. They would follow you, but their judgment might not be the best.” He paused for a moment in reflection, then injected a cautious question. “What does Long Walker say?”
“That does not matter,” she answered irritably. “It is my decision.”
Owl nodded. “True. You must decide.”
His question had been answered.
“Running Eagle, you have surely avenged your brother. Your deeds are known across the whole prairie. So you could do as you wish. No one will think less of you if you send your followers home. But,” he shrugged, “it is your choice.”
Though his words were noncommittal, Running Eagle felt that a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. In effect she had received approval from someone outside the immediate situation. She could now do as her heart was telling her.
The girl rose, thanked the two warmly, and gently patted the sleeping Rabbit on the head. Now she knew what she must do. She slipped outside and paused for a moment to allow her eyes to become accustomed to the darkness. Then
she would go in search of Long Walker. In her mind he would still be where she left him beside the deep pool, sad and depressed. She smiled to herself in the darkness. Walker would be so pleased at her decision.
In the distance there was the sound of an approaching horse. She listened, evaluating the hoofbeats. The rider was in a great hurry, and the animal was tired, pushed almost to exhaustion.
The newcomer called out and, apparently by coincidence, wandered into the temporary camp of the outsiders. There was excited talk, then shouts and the sounds of running feet, and people came hurrying into the main camp. Running Eagle could catch only portions of the confused shouting.
“—Northern band attacked—”
“—Head Splitters—”
“—go and help them—”
“Where is Running Eagle?”
The girl realized the situation with a sinking heart. She would be expected to lead a war party to help the Northern band. It was too late for the choice she had been considering, for now there was none.
Frustrated, Running Eagle felt again the helpless sensation she had experienced earlier in the summer. Somehow there had been set in motion a series of events over which she had no control.
She had no choice. There had never been one.

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