Lakota Dawn (24 page)

“I will be honored to do so, Bent Bow, and you will find victory there.”

They talked for a while longer before they went to sleep, as when they awakened, Bent Bow would head for the Red Shield camp and Chase would return to the fort to see what else he could discover.

During the next week, from chatting with soldiers and from keen observation, Chase learned that new officers and troops and more supplies and weapons were coming soon to replace those slain and lost in the “Grattan Massacre,” and to have
more men and arms on hand when the trouble worsened, which is what Lieutenant Fleming and the Army expected to happen. The soldiers already on duty there were kept busy. Many were put to work building more quarters, mostly of adobe, or were placed on additional hay- and wood-cutting chores so large amounts could be gathered and stored for emergencies during anticipated attacks. Others were posted as extra guards atop and below the bluff since the fort lacked a protective enclosure, or went riding on intensified patrols. Between those tasks, their regular daily assignments were being carried out as time allowed.

Late one afternoon, two covered wagons arrived to camp below the bluff near the river. As he wandered about nearby, Chase learned that the two families were returning East after having made it as far west as Mormon Ferry where the Sweetwater River flowed into the North Platte. The men had decided the going was too rough and long and they didn’t have enough money and supplies to reach Oregon to take advantage of the government’s Donation Land Claim Act, which provided a free “one square mile.”

Since he had lived in both territories and had attended school far away at Mrs. Martin’s insistence, Chase understood why so many settlers yearned to come this far west and beyond. The land was beautiful and fertile, and people felt the soldiers would keep them safe. If it were learned, Chase fretted, that gold—and silver and other precious metals and ores—was available in the Black Hills and other nearby places, there would be no stopping a flood of prospectors, more traders to supply them, whiskey and female-flesh sellers to fill carnal needs, and more soldiers to handle the problems arising from such an onslaught of greedy men and women.

Was there, Chase pondered, a compromise that would work? Could two such different cultures coexist in peace and on equal terms? He doubted it, because the greed of the Whites outweighed simple needs, and too many of them were willing to do anything to fulfill their hungers. Since he had resolved
to side with the Indians, he must be just as willing to do anything necessary to thwart the Whites’ conquest. He hated to imagine what he would be called upon to do to his mother’s and the Martins’ people, but he had no choice since he felt the soldiers and settlers were wrong in their course of invasive action.

During that ensuing week, Chase encountered the sutler with whom he had traded many weeks ago. The man was curious about why he was still in the area and queried him about his Indian “squaw.”

Chase shrugged, sighed deeply, and scowled. “I had to send her back to her family and people. At first, she was obedient and respectful, then she became sullen and defiant. She whined and cried about going away with me when she heard about the trouble with the Indians around here. I figured she’d just rob me and take off for home the minute my back was turned and I was off setting my traps, so I told her to git.”

“That was smart of you, Martin; you don’t want no Indian woman at your back who can’t be trusted. And you surely don’t want to get caught in the wilds without supplies if she stole yours and took off.”

Chase nodded. “That’s exactly how I saw the situation.”

“So what you plannin’ to do now?”

“If things keep going in this direction, I thought I’d speak to Fleming about working as a scout and translator. I figured he could use one if he tries to parley with them to get back on peaceful terms, and I surely didn’t want to be off in the wilds alone if those Indians went on the warpath.”

“I doubt there’ll be any parleyin’. It seems to me as if the Army’s gettin’ prepared to handle things for good this time.”

“You think the other tribes and bands will get riled up and form big alliances if Fleming goes after the Brules and Minneconjous for that Grattan mess? From how the Indians see it, Grattan and his troops fired first and spilled the first blood: leastwise, that’s what I heard some of the soldiers saying. It seems to me it was foolish of Grattan to gun down Chief
Brave Bear over a stray cow. I guess you learn plenty in your store from them.”

“Yep, I hear plenty of talk, but some of it ain’t nothin’ but boastin’. I doubt half of them soldiers really know what they’ll be up against if those Indians do ally together like you said. I was in the Army years ago and I know how fierce and powerful they can be, ‘cause we had plenty of nasty run-ins with them, especially those Oglalas. ‘Course they’ve been settled down for three years, so maybe they’re rusty with fightin’.”

Chase shook his head. “I wouldn’t count on it; I bet those bucks still practice every day and I bet they’ve missed raiding and warring; I bet they’re eager to fight again. Since you’re ex-Army, you know what they think about retaliation and glory coups. If I was Fleming, I would be careful about challenging them.”

The man glanced around to assure they were alone before he whispered, “If Flemin’ was as smart as he should be for a post commander in a hot spot, he wouldna sent Grattan to handle that mess. ‘Course he wouldna been much better at it since he had a run-in with Minneconjous last year. I’d be surprised if the Army don’t hold him partly to blame for that fiasco.”

“You could be right,” Chase concurred. “I’ll be hanging around for a while longer, so I’ll come over to see you. If I hear anything important, I’ll drop it in your ear. I hope you’ll do the same for me. Who knows, if things get to looking too bad, we both might want to leave this area?”

“Not me, Martin, ‘cause everythin’ I have is tied up in my store. With more trouble brewin’, nobody would want to buy her, least not for a decent price, and I ain’t givin’ her away. And I ain’t handin’ my stuff over to no Indian if they attack here. I’d burn my store to the ground first.”

“I’d be sure to keep my eyes and ears open and my rifle loaded, ‘cause Fort Laramie would have to be one of their main targets if they go on the warpath soon.” As Chase glanced around, he said, “There’s Fleming on his porch. I think I’ll go have a little talk with him about my offer. I’ll be seeing you around. Stay alert,” he advised again before they parted.

After Chase joined Lieutenant Hugh Fleming—who was leaning against a post on his porch and gazing out over the fort’s structures and his working troops—he related his request to sign on as a translator and scout, but the officer told him it was useless to speak with the Indians about the situation. As they conversed, Chase grew more and more pessimistic about the situation. Fleming was not even willing to have Indian Agent Thomas Twiss act as an intermediary—the lieutenant saw no point in negotiating at all.

What concerned Chase the most was that Fleming and the Government totally blamed the Indians—the Lakotas mainly—for the current hostilities and for what the Whites were calling the “Grattan Massacre.” It sounded to Chase as if the Army was overlooking the crucial fact that
their
officer had initiated the conflict. Fleming told him repeatedly that the Army must regain control of the area and Indians fast by any means necessary.

On Thursday, September fourteenth, Chase learned it would not be Lieutenant Hugh Fleming who carried out that directive because he was replaced by Major William Hoffman, who arrived and took command, along with additional troops and weapons, and more were expected soon.

On the next day, as Chase observed the big change in leadership and tried to assess Hoffman’s character and to learn his plans and strategies, shocking news came that Spotted Tail and his Brules and Oglalas had attacked a mail coach twenty-two miles from the fort, murdered three men aboard, injured another one, and robbed the stage of ten thousand dollars in gold.

Chase realized that was like a slap in the face to the new commander, who went after the “hostiles” immediately with a large and heavily armed unit of soldiers. The fort was placed on intense alert in case the robbery and slayings were bait to lure the forces away for an attack, one which didn’t come, to the relief of those left behind and on guard. Chase reasoned it
was unwise to shadow the unit or to offer to ride with them as a scout and interpreter until he discovered more about Hoffman. Yet, he was disappointed in Spotted Tail for calling down the wrath of the Army on the Lakotas, as holding up a stage and slaying nonmilitary men was hazardous to all Indians.

Chase waited until the soldiers returned from recovering the bodies before he rode to where the attack had occurred to scout it for signs of Spotted Tail’s path of escape. It was obvious from ground clues and from how long the unit had been gone that Hoffman did not pursue the band, and Chase wondered why. He followed the Brules’ trail for many miles until he realized the Indians were riding hard and fast and he probably couldn’t catch up to them. Even if he did overtake the band, they might not believe who and what he was and might slay or injure him. It seemed best at that point to return to the fort to see what type of retaliation Hoffman was planning, upon whom, and when.

By midafternoon the following day, Chase had gleaned certain expected facts from soldiers and the amiable sutler: troops were assigned to escort and guard all stages, Army supply wagons, and wagon trains. New outposts—though small and crude and in constant jeopardy—were built along the road for protection and to provide horses so the teams would always be fresh enough to outrun any peril. His worst discovery was that word had arrived that Secretary of War Jefferson Davis wanted rapid reprisals for all attacks and wanted peace restored in the territory as soon as and in any way possible; Jefferson warned that if Major Hoffman and his replacements could not achieve those two goals and within a limited time span, he would send General William—“By God, I’m for battle, not peace”—Harney to the area to obtain them. The officials in Washington believed the “Grattan Massacre” was caused by the Sioux seeking to steal annuity goods, a belief that Chase knew was inaccurate and dangerous. But who would believe
him?
After
all, the Army had an eyewitness account of the incident, although Private Cuddy was no longer alive to verify it. Since the Army knew who and what had precipitated the bloody event, why was it so determined to solely blame and fiercely punish the Indians involved? Was it, Chase worried, only an excuse to attack and subjugate all Indians since the peace treaty had failed to do so? Was the Government willing to slaughter any and all Indians—men, women, children—in order to confiscate this territory?

Since Hoffman did not want it on his military record that the Army had replaced him as they had his predecessor for failure to perform his duty, Chase concluded the officer would make any and every attempt to resolve the dispute and fast.

Before dusk settled across the land, Chase was en route to the war council site, where he was certain Spotted Tail and his own family were heading at that same time. He wished things had turned out differently at Fort Laramie, wished a new peace treaty was in the making, and wished he were heading home for a reunion with his beloved wife.

On September eighteenth, when Chase approached the White River site, which was located many miles northwest of the enormous span of the Sand Hills, two scouts from another Lakota band halted him. He had prepared himself for such an encounter by wearing the gift shirt from his wife’s family, a breechclout, leggings, and moccasins. He also had ridden up at a slow pace and had given the
peace
and
friend
signals as soon as he saw the men coming toward him, their weapons at the ready. In Lakota, he identified himself as the son of Chief Rising Bear and said he was there to join his father and people for the war council meeting which was set to begin on the following day. The scouts eyed him with suspicion and doubt, as it was obvious he was half white and was using a
wasicun
saddle. As the alert men glanced all around him, he assured them he was alone. The encounter reminded him of a similar incident with War Eagle months ago. Though it was dismaying, he had to accept the fact his White heritage would always be conspicuous and questioned. Finally one motioned him onward to travel between them, their sharp lances pointing at him in warning.

The two braves rode with him the remainder of the distance until he found his father, War Eagle, River’s Edge, and twenty
Red Shields who were already there and awaiting the arrival of the rest of their allies, as were many other Oglala groups and various members of the other six tribes of the Lakota branch of the huge Dakota Nation. He was relieved his people were present to confirm his claims, else he might have been forced to spend the coming night in bonds until they were proven to be authentic. As soon as the scouts were satisfied he had spoken the truth, though Chase sensed lingering curiosity about his lineage, they returned to their lookout posts.

Chase dismounted and joined his family and friends near their campfire, as the Plains weather was chilling fast at dusk at that time of year. He was happy when his father stood and embraced him, his brother and wife’s brother clasped wrists with him and smiled, and others greeted him with respect and affection, as he knew he was being observed by allies nearby. Even so, their campsite was secluded enough for private talk. He was told Wind Dancer and war chief Blue Owl had remained behind to protect their people and escort them from the grasslands to their wintering grounds in the sacred Black Hills. Nahemana also had stayed with them, as the journey was too long and arduous for the elderly shaman.

Chase was a little surprised and greatly disappointed to see Two Feathers among his group, as that meant—along with War Eagle—that two of their four Sacred Bow Carriers were far away from their band at the same time, and it also meant his cousin would probably seek sly means of harassing and shaming him before their allies. He also knew that Two Feathers would speak and vote for immediate war, and would attempt to persuade others in all bands to do the same. He was glad when his silent cousin sat on the fringe of their gathering, though it was obvious to him that Two Feathers was listening alertly to all Chase said.

As they ate, Chase related what he had learned since Bent Bow had carried his initial message to them. Most were astonished to hear of the many events taking place at or near Fort Laramie; in particular, the aggressive actions of Spotted Tail and the Army’s heavy reinforcements worried them. When he was done speaking, many praised his deed, then asked questions
or made comments about his findings. All the while, Chase furtively noticed, Two Feathers remained quiet and watchful.

Afterward, Chase walked and spoke with River’s Edge and War Eagle, as he wanted to check on his wife and to hear the camp news since his departure weeks ago. He was relieved to learn the summer buffalo hunt had been completed without any trouble and was a large success, so they had ample food, hides, and other needs for the winter season. Since the war parley was being held at that time, the annual gathering of the Seven Council Fires of the Lakota for their combined powwow had been canceled, a genial occasion which would have divulged his identity to other Lakota bands.

As soon as those and other facts were disclosed to him, as such matters must be covered before personal ones, Chase asked. “How is Dawn? Does Broken Lance act as her hunter and protector as he promised me?”

“Your cousin keeps his word to you, my brother and friend,” River’s Edge said. “Your wife works hard and well, but she also misses you and fears for your safety. Her heart will sing with joy to look upon your face again.”

“As mine will sing loud and sweet to gaze upon your sister’s.”

“I do not know of such feelings to this moon,” War Eagle jested, “but they must be powerful, for your eyes glow with flames like the fire’s and your voice becomes soft as the rabbit’s fur when you speak of her. If I had known Dawn possessed large magic, I would have looked her way before you took her as your mate. But even before she became my sister when she joined to you, she was as a sister to me, for she and Hanmani were as close as family.”

Chase smiled and advised, “Allow Wakantanka to choose your mate for you as He did for me and Wind Dancer and you will find great happiness and victory in your joining.”

“I hope that does not happen before we push all Whites and other enemies from our territory and these are Lakota lands once more,” War Eagle said in a serious tone, then grew silent as he experienced a strange and potent chill racing over his
body. It was as if he were being sent a portentous message which he could not grasp.

Chase witnessed his half-brother’s reaction to his own words but did not comment on it. “If we allow the Great Spirit to guide our steps, War Eagle, we must be willing to walk the path He chooses for us and at His pace. I did not expect to meet Dawn and join to her this season, though she was shown to me in the sacred dream which summoned me home. It was the same with Wind Dancer; Dewdrops walked into his life and heart when he did not expect such a glorious event. Perhaps it will be the same for you. It is hard for me to be away from Dawn in times of great peril, but it must be so.”

River’s Edge regarded Chase’s grave expression and tone and asked, “From what you have seen and heard, Cloud Chaser, do you believe the White-eyes will ride the warpath soon?”

“Yes, my friend and brother,” Chase replied somberly, “for the Bluecoats and White leaders believe they must not lose face before the Indians and their people, and they prepare for battle. The raids of Spotted Tail and others will only provoke them to challenge us faster and fiercer, when we need many suns to prepare to confront and defeat them. Come. We must sleep, for the council meets on the next sun when those here will speak and vote for the journey to our destinies. May the Great Spirit watch over us when it rises and lead us to the right path to ride.”

At dusk on the next day and after more Lakotas had arrived and all had eaten their evening meals, a considerable crowd of seasoned warriors and observant young braves gathered around a bright campfire. Each of the band chiefs present sat in a vast circle with his companions close behind him. War Eagle and Cloud Chaser were positioned slightly to the right and left behind Rising Bear, with the remaining Red Shields clustered nearby.

Eight Hunkpapas sat around a large kettle drum beyond the throng. They struck its taut surface with willow sticks, and sent forth melodic vocables with bowed heads; their moods and
expressions indicated reverence instead of gaity. Assorted warriors, some clad only in daily buckskin wear and others attired in ceremonial regalia, danced around the center blaze and stirred up dust and dead grass from the dry ground. Most moved around the flames in rhythmic patterns while others leapt and whirled and stamped their feet in a near frenzy. Some chanted; some sent forth whoops and yips; some remained silent; and some prayed in muffled voices. The loudest and most active dancers also waved hatchets or wooden clubs over their heads as if slaying invisible foes or evil spirits. The rest of the men sat cross-legged on folded hides or rush mats and observed the preparatory custom, which was followed by a Brule shaman’s prayer to summon their Creator to witness the crucial meeting and to bless it and them in their endeavors.

Next, a sacred redstone pipe was smoked for the Making Of Brothers ritual to signify their friendship and unity in the grave matter that loomed before them. After the last man drew deeply upon its stem and exhaled a gray haze, the pipe was returned to Tatanka Yotanka—Sitting Bull—shaman of the Hunkpapas. A leather pouch was passed from chief to chief in the front circle to see who would speak first and be in charge of the parley. That temporary rank was earned by Mahpialuta—Red Cloud—of the Old Smoke Oglala band when he withdrew the only black stone from inside the bag.

Chase went on full alert to study and listen to the esteemed chief. Red Cloud, an impressive warrior with a wide mouth and broad chin, was strongly opposed to enemy intrusion. As with each man who would follow him, the older man stood in the center of the human enclosure and near the fire so he could be heard and seen by all.

“The Whites have not kept their promise to us in the treaty,” Red Cloud said. “Broken Hand told us they would give us trade goods for fifty circles of the seasons, but they changed it to ten after our chiefs signed. Before he walked the Ghost Trail and the snows left our land, he told many about that change, and some agreed to it; my band refused, as did others. If they do not have to honor their treaty words, we do not have to honor ours.”

As the light of a full moon beamed down on everyone, Chase’s attention shifted to Little Thunder of the Brules, who had been embroiled in the “Grattan Massacre” and was known by Indians to harass settlers along the emigrant trail. It was also known that Little Thunder was cunning and deceitful where soldiers and traders were involved; the chief often pretended to be peaceful and friendly—as when he saved Bordeau’s life and those of the trader’s employees—but, in truth, he hated Whites, detested their encroachment, and wanted them gone from the territory. If that proved impossible, the man wanted to dupe and use the Whites to his benefit. Little Thunder was an odd-looking man: he had a large nose, droopy folds beneath his eyes, cropped-off bangs across his forehead and around his crown, and the rest of his long braids were wrapped in red trade cloth.

“Who gave the Army, Great White Chief, Broken Hand Fitzpatrick, and the one called Mitchell the power to part our land into territories and to order us not to fight our enemies?” Little Thunder asked in a sarcastic tone. “I say they did not and do not possess that power, so the treaty is no good.”

Chase was surprised when Rising Bear said his second son would talk in his place—as that was his right—so Chase could tell what he knew of the
wasicun
from living among them, though Rising Bear did not explain that odd occurrence. As he wriggled his way into the clearing, Chase pondered how to explain the 1803 Louisiana Purchase. “Many of you know French trappers and traders,” he began. “The French Nation believed they owned all lands in this territory and called it
Louisiana.
The Whites who lived beyond the Big Muddy River and their chief Jefferson gave much money to the French chief Napoleon to buy these lands.” When Chase paused to choose his next words, Sinte Galeska made a few quick remarks.

“Land belongs to the Great Spirit; it cannot be owned or traded. In exchange for peace and trade goods, we gave the Bluecoats permission to place forts and trails upon it and we said Whites could cross it. But both abuse our generosity; they come; they take; they stay; they destroy; they insult us and shame us; they kill our loved ones and allies.”

As many others nodded or murmured agreement, Chase focused on the Brule who always wore a raccoon tail as a medicine symbol. He knew the shrewd and aggressive chief had played a huge part in the lethal fiasco with Grattan and the ensuing episodes, which included the recent daring robbery on the stage, and who would be largely responsible for the impending retaliations.

“Your words are true, Spotted Tail, but that is not what the Whites believe,” Chase said. “As with our Sacred Bow race, many white men run a race with words instead of feet; they tell other Whites how they will lead them best. The Whites vote for one man to become their leader for the passing of many circles of the seasons, usually for four or eight fingers’ count, and his rank is called
President.
While the chosen one is leader, he tells other Whites what to do, as the one called President Fillmore ordered Agent Fitzpatrick to make the Long Meadows Treaty. But the White leader does not remain chief for his life and his son does not take that rank after he leaves it or dies; another is chosen by the Whites to take his place. One called Pierce is now the Great White Chief, their President. He is the one who will order his people to go to war or to keep peace with us. Pierce, as with all Whites, believes this land belongs to their Nation, called
America,
as the Lakotas are part of the Dakota Nation. The Whites know we live in this land and know we are powerful; most do not want war with us; that is why they seek a truce by offering us peace and trade goods so we will share it and not battle them for it. As with the Crow and Pawnee and other enemies, some Whites are greedy and do many things to provoke war so the Bluecoats and President will be forced to battle us, to slay us or to push us from this land, so the bad Whites can take it.”

Chase related the incident he had witnessed when the gang of white men murdered and robbed soldiers and tried to blame the Indians, and he revealed how they had been entrapped and slain with Grattan’s help. He noted that last disclosure surprised many of the chiefs and their men. He returned to his previous point by cautioning, “If we refuse to make truce with the good Whites and we begin war with the Bluecoats and settlers, the
President will order his forces to attack us, and a great and long war will come; many from both sides will die or suffer, our women, children, and old ones; and the face and heart of Mother Earth will be scarred forever.”