Sweet Savage Surrender (17 page)

Chapter Seventeen

Everything was in chaos after the chief, the elders, and
Buffalo
’s Brother returned to
the village.  They had been away two days longer than they had originally intended.
Much to Skyraven’s dismay, Lone wolf’s words about the camp being broken up so that they could move on proved to be true. Though Skyraven tried to sway her grandfather, he too, said that moving on was best for the tribe. A thick herd of buffalo had been spotted to the southeast, and it was there that they would be traveling.
Now they must hurry to  break camp
, he had said,
and travel south over many miles of treeless grasslands to the Smoky Hills hunting ground
,
the
area the
chiefs had decided upon.  There they would camp near the
Cheyenne
tribes.

Skyraven was
reluctant to go.  She loved this place more than any other.  She had spent endless hours of joy along the cool, tree lined banks of the
South Platte River
.  She had enjoyed swimming in the cool water, running along  the damp earth,  gathering fruit and berries
,
but most of all, she had enjoyed the time spent in the cave with John Hanlen
and feared if she left the village, he would never be able to find her.
  For just a brief moment she paused in her work to look longingly up toward the cave. She couldn't help wondering just what John Hanlen was doing now.  Did he miss her ha
lf as much as she missed him?   
Unconsciously she ran her fingers over her lips remembering the feel of his lips upon h
er own.

Skyraven was brought back to the present moment as
Whispering
Wind came dashing around the corner of teepee nearly knocking her down in her haste.  Why was she in such a hurry
?
Skyraven
could only
wonder as she continued to dismantle her
grandfather’s teepee
and her
own. The
young woman’s tattling tongue had caused enough damage. Skyraven couldn’t help but wonder if the tribe would be moving onward had it not been for the ugly whisperings about her white soldier. She wondered even more if it was the buffalo that had caused the migration or fear of the white soldiers being
nearby.

Perhaps the move to the
Sandy
River
area would not be too bad after all
, she thought, trying to soothe her troubled heart
.  It would bring her closer to
Fort
Lyon
where John Hanlen was stationed.   The only problem was that he  might not know where to find her now.  The Indian women
had little or no contact
with the white soldiers
. It was not as it had been a few years ago with the white traders. Now, with the raids occurring on both sides, the soldiers were as scorned as hornets, their forts avoided at all cost, like bees’ hives
.
 

Although she would be close to
Fort
Lyon
,
she would probably
never be allowed to go there. There was a time
when the whites and Indians had mingled together freel
y, with m
any white men
having
taken Indian women as wives. Now such men were known as squaw men
, shunned by their own and some of the Indian tribes as well. The feeling between the Indians and whites was far from friendly.

And yet if the Great Spirit found a way to bring me together with my white soldier, he will aid me now,
Skyraven thought hopefully.

She made up her mind that she would speak not another word about her reluctance to leave. She would be as docile as the white wooly creatures the white men sometimes let
graz
e on their land. Later she could figure out a way to let John know that she was nearby. Now she had better get on with her work, for there was still much packing to be done. If she did not do her share she would come under severe rebuke, and Lone Wolf’s anger was enough for her, she didn’t want to anger Chief Left Hand and her grandfather, as well. With a sigh, Skyraven picked up her grandfather’s possessions, carefully folding them, packing them away. To his pipe bag she
gave
added reverence, since it had been his ever since she could remember, his most treasured possession with the exception of his peace pipe. Lifting, tucking and folding, she bent to the task at
hand.

All of a sudden there w
as a terrible commotion just a short distance away.
Several people had gathered around to watch something.  Skyraven dropped the saddlebag she was filling and hurried
to see what it was all about.
She stopped in s
tartled amazement as she saw
Whispering
Wind clinging to Lone Wolf
and shouting hysterically.  Skyraven thought it to be a humiliating display.
             

She moved forward. She could not hear what Whispering Wind was murmuring, but as she came closer, Lone wolf’s voice could be heard very clearly. 
"No, I will not go to the Smoky Hills with
you.  I will ride with the
Cheyenne
warriors and drive the white man from our hunting grounds .  Get away from me woman."  He pushed
Whispering
Wind so hard she lost her balance and stumbled backward
. She did not fall, but with the grace of a wildcat, she stayed firmly on her feet.

“What’s going on?” Skyraven asked Morning Dew.

“Chief Left Hand found out that Lone Wolf stole some horses from the white eyes, and he reacted in anger. They quarreled. Lone Wolf defended his right to have done the deed. In anger, he told his father he was leaving to join the
Cheyenne
dog soldiers.”

“Oh.” Even though she was troubled remembering her own confrontation with the arrogant brave, she still felt a twinge of sympathy. It was a terrible thing to leave one’s tribe and wander alone. Lone Wolf could at times be annoyingly sure of himself, but he didn’t deserve such a fate. “He’ll come back one his temper has cooled.” She looked toward her rival. “And Whispering Wind?”

“That bold one has been far from coy. When she found out about the horses, that Lone wolf intended them as another bridal price, she offered herself to him. He refused. It is a battle of wills. Foolish woman, she would not take no for an answer but begged him to stay, to share her tepee once we arrived at the Smoky Hills.”

“She said that?” Skyraven’s interest was doubly aroused. In some ways
Whispering
Wi
nd’s unhappiness should have made her smile, but instead she felt a small measure of pity. Perhaps the young woman felt more strongly for Lone wolf than she suspected.

Skyraven watched as Lone wolf mounted his war pony to move away, but
Whispering
Wi
nd would not give up.
"Please don't go.
You will get yourself killed.” The sun’s rays revealed a sparkle of tears. “
I love you
,
Lone Wolf.  We could be happy together."  She
stood in the path of his pony. “Skyraven has deceived you, but I would not. I would
forever be loyal. I can give you strong sons!”

Lone Wolf guided his horse forward, ignoring the Indian
girl.
” I
have made it evident I do not
want you, woman.  Get out of my way
."
For just a moment
Skyraven
was afraid that Whispering wind would be trampled by the animal’s hooves, but she suddenly stepped aside.

“You are a fool, Lone Wolf!” she shouted, edging toward him again. In a final gesture of possessive defiance, she grabbed at his moccasin.

“Get away. Let me go.” As the Indian shouted his indignation, he
caught a
glimpse
of Skyraven standing there.
She could see unhappiness in his eyes and for just a moment truly believed that he held an affection for her, even after the unpleasant confrontation. She watched as Lone wolf jerked his leg free from Whispering wind’s grasp, kicked his horse in the side, and rode off to join his three companions. Soon the four Arapaho braves were out of sight, leaving a red-faced and shamed Whispering wind behind.

Skyraven
knew that Lone Wolf's
decision to ride with the dog soldiers
was partly because of her refusal to marry him. 
How could she forget that it was for her he had stolen the horses and therefore quarreled with his father the chief? For just a moment she was tempted to ride after him, to add her plea to Whispering Wind’s, but an inner voice told her not to interfere.

“There goes the handsomest man in camp,” Morning Dew said, sighing regretfully. “But then I don’t suppose it is possible those horses that he took could have been for me.” She looked askance at Skyraven. “In all likelihood, they were for you, yes?”

“I wouldn’t know….”

“They were! I saw the way he was looking at you. You should be ashamed.” Though Morning Dew’s words were meant to be teasing, they bothered Skyraven.

“I did not take the horses, or did I ask him to do such a thing. My heart is already taken.” It was all she would reveal. In order to avoid being questioned, she quickly returned to her grandfather’s tepee. Again the look in Lone Wolf’s eyes came to her mind. He had acted in his all-too-familiar childish manner and they had quarreled. She was sorry, but she couldn’t help it. She had wanted to marry the man she truly loved. Was she to throw her own happiness away just to avoid hurting Lone Wolf’s feelings?

Oh, John Hanlen, hurry back for me
…..she implored her thoughts, feeling a portent of tragedy tugging at the corner of her brain. She willfully swept it away, thinking instead that somehow they would find each other and when they did, she would be ready to become his wife
.

That she-wolf got her due reward,
Skyraven
thought, remembering the girl’s whispered threats. It served her right
to be so shamed before the others in the tribe. Still,
she couldn't help feeling pity for
Whispering
Wind.  How could any woman humiliate herself that way?  As much as she loved her yellow haired soldier she would never cling to him and beg as
Whispering
Wind had just done.  But then
, she thought
again, in some ways it ser
ved
Whispering
Wind right. Perhaps Lone Wolf’s anger was partly over having been told about the white soldier. No man liked to be reminded that the woman he loved
had
eyes for another. Perhaps he was taking his anger at her out on Whispering Wind, knowing well that he could, that her feelings were such that she would grovel just to keep him by her side. Maybe she had learned her
lesson
and
would
no longer be a trouble maker.

With down cast eyes Skyraven
worked on tearing down the tepees. First she undid her grandfather’s tepee, and when that lay disassembled upon the ground, turned to her own.
She carefully folded the buffalo hide coverings, placed them on the travois along with
the twelve foot  long poles, t
hen fastened
them to her new horse's back.
Skyraven
had selected
a black
mare to ride on this trip and several other h
orses to act as pack animals.
Her grandfather was rich.  They had plenty of horses
from which to choose, but oh,
how she missed Running Antelope.  She had never traveled without her beloved horse before.
            
 
On this move
,
as always, a few men and boys would herd the loose horses, feed and water them.  The
women would
care for the pack and travois h
orses, the children and dogs.
The braves would ride ahead to fight if they should meet any danger.  The chief and her grandfather would lead them.  Nothing would be any different than before
and yet suddenly Skyraven had a strange feeling. For one brief moment it
was
as if she were viewing the journey as an outsider. Her people seemed suddenly remote, alien to her, as if she didn’t belong. But that was foolish. She forced the thought out of her mind. She was Indian and would always remain so at heart, no matter where her love for John Hanlen took her
.

It was a long way to the smoky Hills. Skyraven had been given the duty of organizing the march. Leaving the campsite and the cave behind, she led the caravan on.

For one full day they journeyed, bedding down beneath the stars at night. Up early the next day, they
continued
their traveling, repeating the pattern the next day. Then at last, the weary
travelers arrived at their destination..