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Authors: Janelle Taylor

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Chase went to the second page and read part of Article 5: “It says, ‘The aforesaid Indian nations do not hereby abandon or prejudice any rights or claims they may have to other lands; and further, that they do not surrender the privilege of hunting, fishing, or passing over any of the tracts of country heretofore described.’ That means, ally and enemy can hunt, fish, and travel the lands of others if they have done such things on them on past suns; that is what the Crow told Wind Dancer when we came upon them while we were riding and hunting together
in the old camp. It is signed by the chosen Head Chiefs of the eight nations who met at Long Meadows and agreed to the treaty, and the White leaders and others who witnessed it.”

“You say the White hunters spoke with false tongues, but the Bird Warriors did not?” she asked to make certain she understood him.

“That is true, but it is a foolish and dangerous demand of the treaty and White leaders. The next time White hunters encroach, we can capture them and take them to the soldiers for punishment. With our Indian enemies it must be different: Lakota chiefs must go to the White leaders and tell them enemy tribes cannot ride and hunt in the same lands if the peace they crave is to last for many circles of the seasons.”

“Will they change the treaty words if our chiefs ask them to do so?”

“I do not know, but it would be wise of them to listen and obey.”

“The one who would have ears for us is dead; the agent who sits in his tepee does not possess the same kind of heart and interest in us.”

“Perhaps Thomas Twiss is entrapped by White laws or controlled by other leaders with more power and he cannot do as we believe he must for peace to live among us. Now, wife, prepare our food while I look upon their words,” he requested in a gentle tone, “for another task lies ahead for us.”

“What must we do before night comes and we sleep?”

Chase grinned, patted the bedroll, and murmured in a seductive tone, “It will be a good task.”

Macha also grinned as she caught his tantalizing hint, aroused by his voice and intention. “I will hurry so we can eat soon.”

As she busied herself with their evening meal, Chase began reading old letters, or rather copies of most of them. He soon discovered that Thomas Fitzpatrick had brought about another treaty last year at Fort Atkinson with the southern tribes who had refused to attend the 1851 peace talks at Fort Laramie, along with a few minor treaties with smaller tribes and considered less important. He learned something the Indians didn’t know about
the man they had respected and trusted: it was clear to him that Fitzpatrick had been doubtful years ago that parleys with the Indians were useful or any treaty would be honored by them until the Indians had been taught the awesome power of the American Government and had been subjugated. The one they had called Broken Hand had warned, “It must certainly appear evident that something must be done to keep those Indians quiet and nothing short of an efficient military force stationed in their country will do this.” Fitzpatrick had related he was certain the forts were garrisoned too low and were constructed too far apart to protect emigrants and settlers—or the troops themselves—or to prevent enemy tribes from warring with each other, which usually overflowed onto Whites. Yet, Fitzpatrick also believed the Indians should be praised and rewarded for allowing White encroachment, and their territories should not be entered without their permission.

As soon as Chase was about to change his mind about the deceased man, he read that Fitzpatrick thought it would be smartest and cheapest and safest if annuities were used to make the Indians become dependent upon the Whites for their survival, how they could be “civilized” and taught the White customs and farming; that way, when the buffalo was gone, tribal wars would not break out and settlers would not be attacked for subsistence.

Chase was disturbed when he read a letter—dated years ago—to the fort’s past commander. After the treaty council, Fitzpatrick had taken eleven of the so-called Head Chiefs to Washington with him to let them observe the strength and number of White Power. One of those chiefs had been so alarmed and depressed by what he saw and heard that he took his own life, something which rarely happened in the Indian culture.

Chase was astonished to learn something he was certain his father and brothers did not know: the United States Senate had altered some of the treaty terms: the amount of the annuity and length of time it would be awarded. Fitzpatrick had been upset with those changes and, only last year, had convinced a few of the Head Chiefs to concur with them, while others refused.
The agent had then written to the government telling them the Indians were “in abject want of food half the year…Their women are pinched with want, and their children are constantly crying with hunger.”

Which tribes, Chase wondered, had the man been referring to, for he had not witnessed such a desperate need? Had Fitzpatrick mistaken the “loafers” as representative of the Indian plight? Had some of the tribes duped him in order to obtain more rations? Or duped him so he would believe they were weakened and subjugated when in reality they were growing stronger and hoped to crush the White force invading their land? Or were there bands somewhere—ally or enemy—in such dire need?

Chase realized these letters must be returned so they would be on record for the current and perhaps future commanders to read, and the treaty, for reference, so its terms could be checked and honored. He must copy the treaty and any important letters, then find a way to replace them. How, he didn’t know, but surely the Great Spirit would show him a cunning path…

Chapter
Ten

Chase was relieved Macha didn’t ask him about the letters, as he did not want to discuss depressing news, at least not at that special moment when they were about to make love for the third time since their marriage. He noticed she had washed her long hair during his absence today and the summer heat had dried it before his return, making it shiny and sleek, as if the midnight black strands possessed an inner glow. He enjoyed burying his fingers in its depths and feeling its texture against his flesh.

He watched her for a while, reveling in her beauty. Her dark-brown eyes were large and expressive, her lashes long and thick. High cheekbones and a perfectly curved jawline added to her charm, as did her full lips. Her teeth were white and healthy; and her breath was sweet, as she often chewed on a fragrant herb or grass which she kept in a pouch suspended from a beaded belt. He could stare at her forever and never tire of her.

Macha was always stimulated and enslaved when Chase looked at her as he was doing now with his sienna-colored gaze so tender and adoring. She could almost feel the powerful emotions flowing from him and engulfing her warmth. She had no doubt he loved and desired her, that he was happy they
were together, were mates. Every time she realized they were truly joined forever, her love for him increased, though she wondered how it was possible for her to love him more than she already did. “I love you, Cloud Chaser, and will never leave your side,” she said with deep emotion. “Each sun and moon, I thank the Great Spirit for returning you to me.”

“As do I, my cherished wife. No matter where we must settle later, we will be together and happy.”

“That is true, my love,” she murmured before they kissed.

As slowly as they could, they let their passion build, each enjoying the anticipation of what lay ahead. The sounds and scents of the coming night filled their senses as they lost themselves in the giving and receiving of love. A gentle wind wafted over them, but its summer heat did not chill their fiery, naked bodies.

Their desires grew and grew until they could wait no longer. With a soft groan, Chase joined with his beloved bride, surrendering to her sweet, welcoming heat until he had brought them both to blissful release.

As they lay entwined under the darkening sky, Chase told her, “When we have more time and privacy, my wife, I will give you more pleasure than I can do here so close to the Bluecoats and settlers. When I touch you in this way, my wits become clouded. I must not allow myself such joyous distraction for too long in enemy territory.” Nor did he want them to be discovered while naked and vulnerable.

Macha laughed softly and jested, “How can there be more pleasure than I receive each time you possess me? If it were any larger, my body would melt into Mother Earth as the snow does beneath a hot sun.”

Chase embraced her with a proud and possessive hug. “That is true, but I do not like to rush such a wonderful journey.”

Macha wished she could view his expression—but it was now too dark—when she asked merrily, “Is such a ride more enjoyable if a slow pace is used?”

Since he was the first man to join with her, Chase surmised there were certain things she did not know. “No, but different paces offer us different adventures,” he half explained. “A
slower one will give us time to do other special things during our journey.”

Macha had overheard women with husbands whispering during their chores and mothers giving daughters enlightening talks before their joining days, so she understood some of what he was trying to say, and found herself eager to make those discoveries. “When a safe moon rises, we will take a slow journey, for I hunger to learn all such things with you as my scout and teacher.”

After a pleased Chase vowed they would do so, they nestled together until slumber overtook them.

Macha paced their camp for what seemed to be an alarming amount of time during her husband’s absence the next day. As instructed, she stayed ready to leap on her horse and escape from any danger which threatened her while he was gone. Just in case she had to flee, they had chosen a place where they were to meet afterward. She had bathed in the river, put on clean garments, washed the dirty ones, and hung them across bushes to dry while he marked upon what he called “paper.” Then she had packed their possessions, kissed him farewell, and watched him leave.

Her worries threatened to distract her. She could also not stop thinking about her family and Hanmani. She could not help but wonder what they were doing, if they were safe, what their reaction had been about her behavior, and what—if any—action had been taken about it. Surely if a search party had been sent after them, they would have been found and captured by now. That led her to believe their escape had been ignored, and she could not imagine why. She was certain that Two Feathers had said and done all he could to persuade Rising Bear and the council to send braves after them and to have them punished. Perhaps, she speculated, something or someone—probably the Great Spirit—had halted them from coming to prevent intruding with the Creator’s plans. What would happen when they returned to the Red Shield camp, she could not imagine.

* * *

At long last, Macha saw Cloud Chaser coming and her heart pounded with elation and relief. When he reached her, she asked, “Did you find another victory, my cunning love?”

Chase grinned and joked, “It was an easy one with the Great Spirit’s help. I went to the dwelling of the leader to speak with him, but he was gone. Another man, one called John Grattan, has taken his place until the leader returns soon. I told him I had come to ask if he knew of trouble in the area where I planned to ride. Before he could speak, another Bluecoat summoned him outside. While he was gone, I returned the words I had taken.” He went on to tell her what Lieutenant Grattan said following his return, that the Indians were being quiet for now while they hunted buffalo. He also had checked the schedule for the stage from Fort Kearny along the North Platte Road. After he completed his revelations, he said, “We must ride to the place where the man lives who killed the Bluecoats and stole their weapons. We must entrap them so they cannot do this wicked deed again.”

“You have already conceived a plan?” she asked.

“Yes, my clever wife, and I will speak of it while we ride.”

“We will eat and go, for there is much sunlight left.”

Following their quick and light meal, Macha retrieved her garments from the bushes, mounted her horse, and left beside Chase as they headed toward the farmhouse.

The next day, as Chase scouted out the farmhouse, he saw men gathering there. He was convinced the stage robbery would take place as their leader had planned. All he had to do now was gallop to Fort Laramie and entice Grattan to the site the villains were going to use tomorrow, west of Prayer Circle Bluffs. He had learned from a talkative soldier at the fort that Grattan was seen as cocky and eager to make a name for himself. Hopefully, his ambition would make him useful to Chase.

Chase was worried about endangering his wife if he left her near the farm and she was discovered, but he could not take
her with him to dupe Grattan. Nor could he sneak her to the post and leave her there, as she might panic if he was gone too long. Besides, she was too beautiful and tempting to leave unprotected amidst so many Whites and soldiers. Too, the “loafers” might become suspicious of her if she lingered around their area. “I must go, Dawn, to reach the fort and return with Bluecoats before their next attack. You must ride with me for a distance and hide in the place we chose where you will be safe.”

Later at that location, Chase leaned over to stroke her cheek and kiss her. “Hide yourself and your horse in the trees and rocks,” he instructed. “Do not make a fire when it is dark, for others may see its flames and smoke. Stay alert, and flee to the other place we have chosen if danger approaches you. If you are not here when I return, I will come there.”

Macha trailed her fingers across his cheek. “I will obey you, Cloud Chaser. Do not worry or fear for me.”

“I will do so, as you will for me,” he refuted with a broad smile.

“Wakantanka nici un. Waste cedake, mihigna.”

“May the Great Spirit go with you and guide you, also. I love you, my wife.”

At dusk in his quarters at the fort, John Grattan looked at him and said, “We met yesterday. Chase Martin, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir; I was checking out any possible Indian troubles in the area before I headed out,” he reminded him. “I returned today to speak with Lieutenant Fleming, but I was told he isn’t back yet and you’re still in charge.”

“That’s right; Lieutenant Fleming went to the American Fur Company downriver to check on the Indians’ annuity goods before visiting Fort Kearny. He’s expected back in a few days. Is it important?”

“Yes, sir, mighty important. It can’t wait.” Chase told him how he had come upon a small band of Indians who were
planning to attack the stage from Fort Kearny tomorrow just east of Prayer Council Bluffs.

“How did you know what they were saying?”

“I speak a little Lakota, enough to understand them.”

“How many were there?”

“Seven. All seasoned warriors from their looks.”

“You think they’re expecting others to join them?”

“No, sir, it didn’t sound that way to me. Renegades is my guess.”

“Why did you take a chance sneaking up on their camp?” “It just seemed to me they were up to no good, sir. Indians don’t paint their faces and horses and go prancing and chanting around a campfire if they aren’t up to something. There’s a lot of settlers and travelers and soldiers in these parts, so I figured I should creep up and see what I could learn, and the terrain offered me plenty of cover. Probably renegades from a tribe around here and working on their own. Since we know where and when they plan to attack, I figure we can set a trap for them. Since Fleming’s gone and you’re in charge, I guess it’s your duty, sir. Might even be a stroke of good luck for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’d think any officer would be eager to put down Indian trouble and show the Government and Army he’s more than just doing his job. And it surely would liven up things for a while in this quiet place.”

“How did you learn the Indian language?”

Chase had expected him to be suspicious, so he had answers prepared. “I’ve trapped in their territory north of here for three winters, ever since they signed that treaty and made it safe to work their waters. ‘Course the beaver and other creatures are playing out, so I’ll be moving on soon. While I was trapping, I did some trading and talking with the Lakotas. It don’t take long to pick up their simple tongue and signs. I even did some translating for the boys at Fort Pierre Trading Post.”

“Why did you come to this area? It’s a long way from Pierre.”

“Not too far over easy terrain like them grasslands. I was hoping to hook up with a wagon train and travel northwest
with them to find new trapping grounds. I figured it would be safer than riding alone. A man by himself with money in his pocket, supplies, a good horse and saddle, and a fine rifle could disappear out there, if you catch my meaning. And accidents do happen along the trail. Might even be a young and pretty widow who needs a hand with her wagon and chores in exchange for meals and washing my clothes. Since I didn’t see any wagons here, I was heading to Kearny to see if any were coming soon. If not, I can’t hang around and get stranded here during winter. Would cost me too much time and money. That’s how I happened up on those Indians camped miles away. So I turned around and headed back here since it was closer to their target.”

“I’ll get my men ready to leave at first light,” Grattan said, satisfied with Chase’s explanation. “We should reach that area in plenty of time to lay a trap for them. No need to go racing out there tonight when there’s hardly a crescent moon showing herself. Why don’t you bed down at the stables? You are riding with us, right?”

“Yes, sir; you might need a translator along; and I can ride on to Kearny afterward. I’m much obliged for the use of the stable. See you at dawn, sir,” Chase said before he left to spend what he knew would be a restless and long night with his beloved wife so far away and alone.

Macha pressed her body against the rock formation and prayed no snakes or other perilous creatures would invade her space. At least a tiny part of the moon was showing, so she was not engulfed by blackness. The only times in her life when she had been so alone had been recently during Cloud Chaser’s absences. She did not like feeling so vulnerable and helpless. She had a knife, but that weapon did not offer much comfort. Even so, she was skilled in self-defense, thanks to her brother’s teachings and practices; and she would not hesitate to slay for survival.

Macha wished she were more like Dewdrops, for Wind Dancer’s wife was a skilled warrior who had ridden into the
face of danger alone and at his side many times in seasons past and showed great courage, and prowess. She would feel more worthy of being Cloud Chaser’s wife and helper. But all she could do was wait and worry and question Wakantanka’s will for her part in this quest.

She felt weary, but not sleepy, and doubted she would close her eyes all night. But if she did, surely her horse would alert her to any threat, and he was standing nearby, which provided a little comfort.
Watch over us, Great Spirit, for I am weak and afraid, and Cloud Chaser will soon face much peril amidst our enemies and many challenges amongst our people.

By midday, Chase, Grattan, and twenty soldiers were concealed west of Prayer Council Bluffs and awaiting the arrival of the raiders and stage, which was due to appear on the road within the hour. The trap was set, and all that remained to be seen was if it could be sprung with success.

As they watched and tarried, Chase remembered one of the orders given by Grattan about shooting to kill so none of the seven warriors would escape. He wondered what Grattan would think when he learned the truth about his prey.

When the culprits—dressed like Indians on the warpath—came into view and hid themselves behind trees, bushes, and rocks, Chase felt calm and ready for what was to come. To avoid jeopardizing the lives of the driver, guard, and passengers, the soldiers were to strike as soon as the “Indians” made their move against the stage.

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