Lakota Dawn (8 page)

Two Feathers scowled. “I ride with you this sun, War Eagle.”

Chase mounted and followed behind the other four men, all led by his younger brother, who had earned his respect and gratitude for War Eagle’s bold words to their now-sullen cousin. He was surprised that War Eagle had come to his defense and had reprimanded Two Feathers so forcefully, and with what appeared to be gleams of anger in his eyes. He hadn’t known that Two Feathers was a Sacred Bow Carrier, a high rank that
only four men held at a time. How had the rancorous male earned that lofty position? Obviously there was more to know about his cousin than he had witnessed so far.

Although War Eagle was only twenty, it was apparent to Chase that his younger brother was confidant, respected, and intelligent. His status of Sacred Bow Carrier proved that War Eagle also possessed enormous prowess as a seasoned warrior. Pride over both brothers’ accomplishments surged through Chase, and he yearned to become more like them. With their help and acceptance, he reasoned, he could achieve that new goal. As he envisioned the three of them galloping across the Plains side by side while laughing and talking and defending their territory and people, excitement swept over him like the powerful waves crashing over jagged rocks which he had once seen on the Oregon coast.

The Great Spirit and Mother Earth had created immense beauty and diversity across this vast land, Chase concluded, so it was understandable why both cultures and others from across the Big Waters desired to make it theirs. It was a shame that they couldn’t live in peace. If only the Indian Nations—ally and enemy—could band together and make a truce, they could keep the Whites at bay for a long time; and the Nebraska Territory could become Indian Territory, and avoided by Whites for any and all reasons. After all, the Whites did have a large country from which to select settling places without stealing this one. He knew that to be a fact because he had traveled a large section of it and had seen maps of the rest. His father and the others were right: this part of the country should not be encroached by the enemy, for it belonged to the Indians.

After a meandering ride, which he spent in deep thought, Chase cleared his head and came to alert when War Eagle held up his hand to signal them to halt. His brother gathered them closer to whisper his instructions, and Chase—along with the others—nodded, as all were compelled to obey the orders of the party leader.

War Eagle had decided to go after either elk or moose today, animals which preferred to graze and take brief rests in either lush meadows near woods or in marshy wetlands near rivers
and lakes. To stalk their prey from three directions, they were separated into pairs: Swift Otter with Two Feathers, War Eagle with Broken Lance, and River’s Edge with Cloud Chaser.

They spread out to surround the chosen area before closing in on it and entrapping between them whatever creature grazed there. Chase was in a good mood. He had ridden and talked with his older brother, who had seemed to slyly give him encouragement about an impending reunion. He was hunting with his youngest brother, who had taken his side against a fellow society member and close relative, just as Wind Dancer had done in a smaller manner two days ago. Many things he had learned or been told about their customs and ways during childhood were returning to his mind at a swift and clear pace. It was as if he had suppressed such knowledge in Oregon to lessen or prevent the anguish of losing what it represented. Now that he was home, a flood of memories filled his head.

Chase stole a sideways glance at the brave with whom he rode. He wondered if River’s Edge resented being paired with him. They hadn’t spoken, but they had to maintain silence to avoid spooking birds or small creatures which might in turn alert their prey to intruders and danger.

At one point, River’s Edge dismounted to study the ground for tracks. After finding fresh ones, he motioned for Cloud Chaser to hold his position and remain quiet. River’s Edge crept a lengthy distance ahead of the other man and his own horse. As he knelt behind bushes to scan the area beyond him to see if he sighted his prey, he heard threatening snarls and hurried movements to his rear and whirled to see a badger coming toward him. As he did so, he lost his balance and fell backward to the ground, a lack of time preventing him from retrieving his bow and an arrow on his back. With haste, he reached for a sheathed knife at his waist. Wide-eyed, he saw the ferocious creature stumble when an arrow thudded into its enraged body. He watched Cloud Chaser race forward, seize the thrashing animal by its scruff, and quickly and mercifully end its suffering and life.

River’s Edge looked past the other man as his startled horse danced about in panic and stepped into a hole, then collapsed
to the earth. He bolted forward to the beloved beast to find him in great pain with a broken leg. As the other man joined him and knelt to examine the severe injury, he said, “Such breaks will not heal; he must be released from this life. He has been a good companion, so this deed is hard for me to do.”

“I will do it for you, River’s Edge, for it wounds the heart and mind to take the life of a friend, even when that task is needed.”

River’s Edge took a deep breath and stared at the horse in agony. “It will be a good deed if you take my place in this matter. Do it fast and kind, as with the badger.” He glared at the hole where a stump had rotted, one which had become filled and concealed by leaves and twigs. He had dismounted from the other side and had not seen that peril.

Chase wiped his sharp and bloody blade on the grass, then looked at the tormented brave. “It is over. You can ride with me to join the others. Do you want me to skin the badger for you?”

“I will do so, but I thank you for your help, Cloud Chaser. It is good to be companions on this hard day, for our sisters are best friends.”

Chase eyed the brave and realized why he looked familiar, as Macha’s tepee was not within view of his campsite and he had not seen this brave enter or depart from there. “You are Dawn’s brother?”

“That is so. We were born at sunrise near a river’s edge; that is how we were named. I came first and she followed. We do not match in looks, but we are alike in many ways. I have not taken my man name, for I have not done that vision-quest to this sun. You and I did not play together as boys, for you were older, but I am glad you ride with me on this hunt. I will tell your father and brothers of your brave and good deeds.”

“Thank you, River’s Edge; it is an honor to ride with one such as you.”

“I must sing the death chant for my companion before he is left here to be claimed by the forces of nature. I will join you soon.”

Chase grasped that River’s Edge wanted privacy to mourn
his loss, so he nodded and walked a lengthy distance away, taking his mount with him. With his back turned, he listened to the soulful sounds and muffled words coming from behind him. As he did so, he stroked his horse’s neck and forehead, for they also had been companions for a long time—since his sixteenth birthday, or the day chosen to celebrate it by the Martins. He remembered how Tom had sold extra vegetables and firewood he had chopped and how Lucy had sold two quilts she had made to pay for the animal. He cherished the gift and their many acts of kindness. He had no doubts they had loved and treasured him. Yet, how could he adequately explain his feelings and sense of loyalty to his adoptive parents to his family and people here when they viewed all Whites as the enemy? Yes, their deception had pained him, even angered him for a time; then, he had come to understand and forgive it. If only—

“I am finished. We will ride to find the others.”

Chase turned to face River’s Edge. He had been so deep in thought that he hadn’t heard the chanting stop or the badger being skinned, for the brave now carried its pelt across one arm. He nodded instead of speaking, his throat feeling oddly constricted by emotion. He mounted and extended his left hand so River’s Edge could grasp his wrist and swing himself up behind him. He glanced toward the fallen horse to see its body mostly covered by scrub-limbs. He understood the brave’s sorrowful mood, for he knew how he.would be feeling if that were his companion lying dead.

Chase guided his horse in the assigned direction to rendezvous with the other hunters. Perhaps his good deed today would have a favorable effect upon Macha and her parents. Maybe that was a selfish thought, but surely it was only being human.

Just as Chase suspected, his rescue of River’s Edge did not sit well with Two Feathers; nor did what soon occurred…

Chase spottted a large male elk, one with many points to its rack, as it grazed beyond them. With the wind in their favor and with their silence and stealthy movements, the creature had not heard, seen, or smelled them. He got the attention of River’s Edge and motioned to their prey.

After the two men cautiously dismounted, Chase let his reins dangle to the ground. He knew his well-trained and loyal animal would remain quiet and still. He whispered for River’s Edge to take the lead and told him, “You must shoot your arrow first, for it has been many suns since I held and used this weapon. I will release my shaft after yours leaves your bow.”

River’s Edge nodded and crept nearer to their target, his weapon at the ready. Using trees, bushes, and other vegetation to conceal their approach, he guided them as close as possible without being overconfident about his stalking skills or carelessly misjudging the creature’s keen senses. When they were within victory range, he halted them and prepared to fire his first shot.

Chase nocked a shaft and awaited his turn to take action. He—along with River’s Edge—knew one arrow would not bring down an animal of that size; and for certain the wounded beast would take flight as soon as he was struck. He realized
their eventual success depended upon the accuracy of their initial strikes, but he also knew triumph hinged upon their stamina and running pace during the ensuing quest to complete their task before the elk escaped beyond their reach, as it could probably survive a single arrow wound, especially if it wasn’t in a vital body area like a lung or the heart. His heart pounded with anticipation.

River’s Edge aimed and fired, and grasped another arrow as Cloud Chaser released his first one in the blink of the eye behind his. Both shafts embedded themselves in the startled elk, one in a lung and one in the heart. Even so, the huge creature bolted with amazing speed and agility to get out of the vulnerable meadow and into the protective woods.

“Come. We chase him, my friend!” River’s Edge shouted in elation and took off in pursuit across the lush grass and various-colored wildflowers.

“Come, Red!” he called out in English, and his sorrel quickly obeyed as Chase ran forward to join the nimble brave. It felt good to be hunting with this particular man, to be out of seclusion, to be trusted to be alone with any Red Shield. He didn’t know why he wasn’t being watched today, as he sensed no other eyes upon him. Also, he didn’t know why he had been paired with the next to the youngest member of the hunting party who didn’t appear to be a seasoned warrior. Yet, the brave could have more prowess than he realized, for surely he was a bowman.

The two men darted around trees and bushes and leapt over fallen limbs as they followed in the elk’s frantic wake. When the animal paused for a minute and turned its head to check its peril, both men sent second arrows into its hindquarters at almost the same time.

River’s Edge laughed. “We think the same as hunters, my friend: to injure his legs will slow his pace. He will soon be ours.”

“You are skilled with your bow and possess much prowess, River’s Edge, and must provide your family with much game and many hides.”

The brave grinned in pleasure while keeping his gaze locked
on his prey and never missing a step in his rapid movments. “That is true, and I thank you for your good words, for they come from a skilled hunter.”

The elk jerked and stumbled aside following those third and fourth hits, then took off running. While trying to elude his determined predators, one shaft was snapped off midway by a sturdy pine. Two others were shoved backward several times by trees or wriggled by thick bushes, embedded too deeply to be dislodged. Each time the arrows were assailed by something, the extent of the damage to flesh and organs and his pain increased, as did his bleeding.

Water splashed on Chase’s pants and River’s Edge’s leggings and it soaked boots and moccasins as they crossed a wide but shallow stream, dodging rocks within it. They spooked small animals and flushed birds in passing with the noise they created. Soon both were breathing hard through dry throats and were sweating profusely. Their muscles protested the exertion and their hearts pounded from the summer heat.

For a while, their target remained in view; then it was engulfed by dense trees and other greenery and was lost from sight and hearing. Using the creature’s tracks and blood drippings, they continued to search for him.

“He slows his pace,” River’s Edge deduced as he studied changes in depth and shape of its tracks. “We will find him soon.”

The exhausted and weakened elk looked wobbly when they came upon him in a small clearing in the forest, and halted to avoid provoking it to bolt again. Both studied its depleted condition and concluded its flight was over. Blood saturated its rib cage and flowed down its foreleg and hindquarters. Hearing their approach, it lifted its head and tried to make threatening signals with its sharp-tipped rack and warning sounds from a throat obstructed by blood. With haste and mercy, it was slain by River’s Edge.

A winded River’s Edge looked at Chase and grinned before he removed three still usable arrows and the broken shaft. The stone tip was recoverable, and as he did so, he remarked, “He is large and was strong. He has many antler points and a good
hide. He will supply many people with meat. We must thank him for his sacrifice to us and the Great Spirit for placing him in our path and giving us the skills to take him.”

As soon as those words of gratitude were spoken in prayerful form, River’s Edge said, “We must summon our companions.” He faced each direction and called out in a loud voice. He listened, but did not hear a reply. “If they do not come when we finish our work, we will find them.”

While they waited for the others, they strung up the elk to a strong branch, with the sorrel helping them lift the heavy burden before the rope was secured to that same tree. River’s Edge passed his blade across the animal’s neck to finish bleeding it. Then he began the skinning and gutting procedure, with Chase helping him as needed.

“You found great victory, my friend,” a smiling War Eagle praised River’s Edge as he and the others entered the small clearing.

River’s Edge paused in his familiar task and grinned broadly. “That is true. We wounded, chased, and slayed him together. He ran far before taking his last breath. We took him down with two arrows each.”

War Eagle noted the man’s use of “we” and cast his brother a sideways glance. He was relieved there had been no trouble, and felt great pride in Cloud Chaser’s behavior and participation in the kill. He had been told to give Cloud Chaser the opportunity to escape and, if he took it, he and Swift Otter were to trail him to his destination while the others returned to camp. Wind Dancer also had told him not to shadow their brother during the hunt, for he had detected their presence the last time and would not take action this day knowing he was being watched. He was glad his brother had not fled or endangered River’s Edge, and was happy the brave’s opinion of Cloud Chaser was so favorable.

“We join you empty-handed, my friend, for we crossed paths with no game we wanted on this sun,” War Eagle said. “We found your marks and those of the bleeding elk’s upon Mother Earth and followed them. Where is your horse? There were tracks of only one during your pursuit, those of Cloud
Chaser’s mount. We did not know what to think until we saw the prints of your moccasins and his tracks together. We followed them to this place.”

Unwanted thoughts thundered across Chase’s mind:
Were you afraid I had slain him, little brother, and was trying to escape? I doubt Two Feathers would have minded his loss if it meant my defeat! How did you feel when you realized he was still alive and with me? Glad or disappointed? Don’t think crazy thoughts, Chase,
he reprimanded himself,
and read War Eagle wrong.

River’s Edge took a breath, his expression one of sadness. In a ragged tone, he related the episodes with the badger and his beloved animal. “Your brother did a great deed for me. Bad badgers can rip out a man’s throat. Cloud Chaser saved me from harm and death. He took the life of my companion when it pained my heart to do so. He sent him to the Ghost Trail with swiftness and mercy.”

As if to flee that tormenting thought, River’s Edge hurried on to relate, “Cloud Chaser gave me the first arrow shot, for he has not used a bow in many suns, but he has not lost his skill with it. He injured and slowed the badger with one arrow and attacked him without fear. He is a good hunter.”

War Eagle was impressed by the man’s news and grateful for the glowing remarks about his brother. It seemed obvious that River’s Edge did not resent being paired with him; if the brave had been insulted or riled at first, that feeling had been vanquished. He looked at Cloud Chaser and said, “I thank you for saving our friend. It was a large and good deed.”

Chase nodded appreciation to his brother, assuming War Eagle dared not say more before the others. As he had spoken his kind words, he saw Two Feathers scowling in irritation. And perhaps…
jealousy?
He looked at his other cousin and read what he thought were esteem and amazement in Broken Lance’s eyes. When he nodded and smiled, the youngest party member averted his gaze.
At least I’m winning a few people’s respect and approval, even if they don’t want to display it.

“We have much work to do,” War Eagle said, and gave his orders.

While the elk was being butchered, the rest of the hunting party gathered fallen limbs and constructed a pull-along for hauling the meat to camp. After it was loaded with the chunks, haunches, hide, rack, and badger pelt, the travois was attached to Broken Lance’s horse to prevent overburdening any mount, for his size was the smallest and lightest.

“All is done here,” War Eagle said. “We head for camp.”

“You ride with me,” Two Feathers told River’s Edge.

“Thank you, my friend, but I will return to camp with my hunting companion for this sun,” he replied, and leapt up behind Chase.

Dreading that that bold choice might cause another quarrel, War Eagle quickly said, “We go. Come, my friends and brother.”

Chase refused to even steal a peek at his cousin, for he could imagine the man’s outrage, and his action might be taken as a taunt and be used as an excuse to verbally or even physically attack him. He was pleased by the kindness of River’s Edge and hoped it didn’t make trouble for the brave. He also hoped War Eagle’s actions and words prior to leaving camp didn’t cause problems for him with his family and people. If so, the two people, not including Hanmani and Macha, whom he was getting to the fastest, would make hasty retreats. Chase reasoned that maybe the best way to become a Red Shield member again was by worming his way into people’s hearts one by one, inch by inch, and day by day.

They reached the edge of camp by midafternoon as weary, sweaty, dusty, and hungry men, but most were in elated spirits. After thanking him again, River’s Edge slid off the back of Chase’s horse to walk beside Broken Lance to where the travois would halt at his family’s dwelling. Once there, River’s Edge would choose the portion of the elk he desired as befitted the beast’s slayer, and remove other items which belonged to him from the two kills. Afterward, War Eagle—as band leader—would be given second choice, and so forth until the haul was divided fairly amongst the hunters, except for Cloud Chaser.

As River’s Edge headed homeward, the others continued onward to various dismounting areas, some near their tepees and others in the edge of the forest. After parting with Swift Otter and Two Feathers, War Eagle guided Chase to Rising Bear’s rope enclosure. Two young braves hurried forward and offered to tend their horses, as that was considered a generous deed.

Chase was glad his cousin’s horse was picketed elsewhere, as he was more than ready to avoid the man’s foul mood and hateful glares. He stroked his mount’s neck and forehead after unsaddling him. He smiled at one timid boy and said in Lakota, “He is called Red, but you must say his name in English, for he does not understand it in your tongue, which is Luta. If you stroke him while I am nearby, he will become your friend and allow you to take him for a walk to cool off and to the river to drink.”

The hesitant boy looked at War Eagle for permission to do that task. Visitors’ horses were always tended with eagerness and great care, but he did not know what the rank and acceptance were for this strange man.

War Eagle nodded, then furtively observed the interaction between his brother and the horse and the young boy. He was amused by the child’s attempts to speak the animal’s name, as he had difficulty with the unfamiliar “R” sound. He grinned in affection when the boy succeeded and the horse seemed to nod its head in greeting and approval. Following a few strokes with his brother’s hand almost touching the youth’s, the horse readily accepted the boy’s handling and went calmly with him to the river.

“He is a good horse. Has he been your companion for many seasons?”

“Yes, my brother, for the passings of six circles of them. I called him Red after the name of my people’s band and for his color. I thank you for taking me on your hunt this sun and for trusting me alone with River’s Edge. It was a good journey. Do I return to where I camp?”

War Eagle looked past Chase, whose back was to the camp, and saw Wind Dancer motioning in sign language. He was
confused by the order he received in secret, but obeyed it. “Come to our father’s tepee to speak.”

Chase hoped the uses of “my brother” and “our father,” the hunting event today, and now a visit with his father were promising signs. He would know soon, he told himself as they reached Rising Bear’s tepee, an abode highly and colorfully decorated with the numerous coups of his father. He knew Broken Lance had come and gone with the travois when he saw Winona and Hanmani preparing War Eagle’s portion of today’s kill, but neither female looked at him. He found Wind Dancer already present inside the dwelling, so he assumed this meeting was preplanned for when—and perhaps if—he returned with the hunters. He took the same position as the one on his first visit.
“Hau, Ate; ake iyuskinyan wancinyankelo.”
He watched Rising Bear only nod to his genial greeting and assertion he was glad to see him again. His attention drifted to Wind Dancer, who became the apparent spokesman again, as his own good mood began to dissipate. This time, all spoke in the Lakota tongue.