Panther pulled her mare to a halt and reached for Tanya. “Come,” he said. “You will ride with me the rest of the way. I will hold you before me in my arms, and you will be able to relax and be more comfortable.”
Tanya rode the rest of the way cradled in Panther’s arms. After what seemed a century, her pains now coming hard and fast, he said, “We are nearly there. Soon you will be able to lie down.”
Tanya tried to joke between clenched teeth. “They’d better get the birthing tent up fast, or I’ll have this baby in the open. I’m making a terrible habit of avoiding that birthing lodge, aren’t I?”
Panther chuckled, “I wonder if you planned it this way.”
The first tipi to go up was the birthing lodge, and Tanya was hustled inside. “This won’t take long Panther,” she called to him. “Have Melissa keep my meal warm.”
Ten minutes later, Tanya delivered a perfectly healthy, howling baby boy. Panther had a second son. Within two hours, displaying a stubborness beyond measure, she carried her newborn son to her own lodge.
To a stunned Panther, she explained, “Root Woman said if I was strong enough to walk through camp to our own tipi, she would let me come home and not keep me in that stupid lodge.”
“You are a stubborn woman, Wildcat,” he told her, his black eyes glowing, “and I love you for it. Welcome home.”
That evening, Black Kettle and Woman-To-Be-Hereafter came to see their new grandson. “My family has grown at an alarming rate since I adopted you, Wildcat,” Black Kettle teased her.
Taking the baby in his arms, he unfolded the blanket to view the child. “What is this?” he said, fingering a small red mark on the baby’s thigh.
“It is a birthmark,” Tanya explained.
“Look here.” Black Kettle held the small thigh so all could see it. “It is in the shape of a bow and arrow. It is the mark of the archer,” he suggested.
Panther agreed. “Yes, Uncle. It is plainly a bow drawn with an arrow nocked and ready. As you said, the mark of the archer.”
“That is what you should call the child,” Black Kettle decided. “His name should be Mark-of-the-Archer.”
Hunter-of-the-Forest didn’t know quite what to make of his new brother. He certainly took up much of his mother’s time and attention. Because of this, Panther took extra pains to pay special attention to Hunter at this time in his young life.
When they had been camped there about two weeks, word came from Fort Larned that the U.S. government, and General Sheridan in particular, had declared war on the Cheyenne and Arapahoe tribes because of all the trouble they had encountered over the summer. These tribes were considered troublemakers, and the government was out to teach them a lesson. Cavalry troops were on the look-out for them, and any and all rebellious Indians were to be dealt with severely. All previous peace treaties were considered null and void, and if the tribes wished to keep any of their lands at all or receive any government aid, they were to turn themselves over to the U.S. Army and swear oaths of allegiance at once. Any tribe failing to do so would be considered an enemy of the United States.
Black Kettle, upon hearing this, prepared at once to go to the nearest fort and get matters straightened out. His tribe had caused relatively little trouble, and Black Kettle had always been noted for his willingness to maintain peace between his people and the white men. Taking several of his warriors with him, he headed for Fort Cobb, the closest fort to his camp.
Once there, he tried to obtain an agreement of peace for his tribe, but General Hagen, having no word or authorization from his superiors about this, refused to negotiate. He turned Black Kettle away, telling him to return to his people on the Washita and await word there.
Black Kettle returned to camp in the late afternoon to tell his tribe of this discouraging development. Several of his chiefs were uneasy that the army knew the location of their camp, and wanted to move to a new location immediately. Black Kettle refused, saying he had given his word to the army, and he would keep it. A conference was held, and Panther, Winter Bear, and a few other warriors were sent to three other villages further downriver to advise their leaders of the result of Black Kettle’s trip and get their opinions on what should be done. They left that evening, though a fierce blizzard had already hit, traveling through deep, blowing snow to reach the other camps. As Black Kettle’s encampment was bordered across the river one way by a steep bluff, the couriers had to cross the freezing river twice because of its twists and curves to reach the neighboring villages some ten miles down stream. It took some time to get there, and as it was quite late when they had relayed the messages, they decided to wait and return to Black Kettle’s camp the next day.
Tanya was up early the next morning, breastfeeding Mark-of-the-Archer. It was a still, grey dawn typical of winter. The smoke hung heavy and low over the tops of the tipis. Melissa and Hunter slept peacefully beneath their piles of fur. The only sound was the occasional bark of a camp dog. The snow was deep and Tanya wondered how soon Panther would return.
There was no warning before the attack. One minute it was so still Tanya could hear Mark’s soft breathing. The next, the air was filled with the sounds of gunfire, whistling bullets, the jangle of metal harnesses and swords, and the screams of the wounded. Shoving Mark roughly aside, Tanya jerked open the tent flap. Everywhere, she saw a sea of blue army uniforms.
Tanya’s heart sank as she realized what was happening, and her brain screamed over and over again, “No! No! No! No! No!”
Chapter 12
FOR TIMELESS seconds, Tanya sat motionless, her mind unable to accept what her eyes were seeing. Cheyenne were dashing from their tipis in various stages of dress, some trying to reach their horses, some seeking to escape the barrage of bullets flying into their lodges, others fleeing from already burning tents.
Melissa’s terrified screams jerked Tanya back to life. She called Kat to her. “Go get Panther, Kat,” she told him, ushering him out of the tipi. “Get Panther!” She watched as the cougar dashed out and quickly disappeared.
Staying as low as she could, Tanya crawled back to Mark and pulled Hunter from his bed. Grabbing the first clothes her hands touched, she dressed mechanically, shoving her knife into her belt and snatching up her bow and quiver. Little good they would do her, outnumbered as they were.
Her mind in a whirl, she ordered Melissa to keep the children quiet and again crept to the tipi entrance to peer out. In the few minutes she had taken, her world had turned into a living hell. In shocked disbelief she watched as soldiers fired upon men, women, and children alike. Racing their horses among the tipis, they trampled anyone in their path. Tanya’s mind screamed out in horror as she saw a young child speared through the stomach and tossed into the air on the point of a bayonet. The old, feeble shaman stepped out of his tipi and was immediately trampled. The soldier hauled up on his reins and deliberately rode his horse back and forth over the bleeding body, as Tanya watched, unable to prevent any of it. Swiftly, she got off two arrows, but both fell short of her target.
Across the way, Tanya saw two cavalrymen racing side by side, each with an infant held at arms length. Her heart exploded in her chest as she saw the men fling the babies to the ground, laughing as their tiny skulls shattered like ripe melons.
Her startled gaze caught at the familiar figure of Forest Fern, now heavy with child. She watched in terror as a horseman dashed by, neatly slicing open Forest Fern’s bulging stomach with his sword. She fell writhing to the ground, her unborn babe spilling from her stomach. Tanya gagged and turned away.
The gruesome spectacle was only one of many so horrible that Tanya’s mind could not tabulate them all. Wave after wave of soldiers poured into the village, Cheyenne bodies were lying everywhere, unbelievably mutilated, some with no heads, others with stomachs ripped open, many with crushed bodies and skulls.
The noise beat at Tanya’s ears, as the sights sickened and outraged her. Screams of wounded and dying friends; incessant gunfire; yelling, laughin
g soldiers; horses; bridles; the clank of swords and bayonets. The attack had come so suddenly. Most Cheyenne had been sleeping; none were prepared.
Some of the warriors, such as Panther and Winter Bear, were away at neighboring camps. More had not made it back from the latest hunt. As Tanya watched, unable to tear her eyes from the holocaust, she saw a handful of warriors making an escape of horseback. They would bring back help; if there was anyone left to rescue. Tanya did not blame the warriors for not staying to fight. By now they were vastly outnumbered, their fellow braves lying slaughtered throughout the camp. They would never willingly desert their people, but their only hope now came in recruiting help.
Hope flared as Tanya recognized Shy Deer and her infant escaping with the warriors. Perhaps there was still a chance she and her sons could do the same. She turned to call for Melissa and found the girl right behind her, gazing dumbfounded at the massacre taking place outside.
“God, Tanya!” Melissa whispered in awe. “I’ve never seen anything so horrid!”
Tears slipped silently down Tanya’s cheeks. “And they call us savages!” she hissed, wanting desperately to vomit.
“Come, get the boys, and let’s see if we can escape this madness. If Shy Deer got away, maybe we can too.”
The words were no sooner out of her mouth than she heard shooting and shouts near Black Kettle’s tipi. Watching, she saw Black Kettle and Woman-To-Be-Hereafter running toward the river, chased by several soldiers on horseback. They almost made it. Just as they stepped into the freezing water, Tanya saw their bodies jerk almost simultaneously, and they fell face-first into the water. Riders trampled their bodies, and after several minutes, Tanya knew they were dead. Turning her head, she saw George Bent standing at gunpoint, gazing stunned at the bloody body of Blue Horse at his feet.
“We’ll never make it out of here,” Melissa predicted.
“I’m going to try,” Tanya told her, fighting a wave of nausea.
“Look!” Melissa cried excitedly. Tanya followed where the girl pointed. At a place near the edge of the melee, Nancy and Suellen stood, flanked by several soldiers. Suellen shook her head, and then Nancy pointed directly to Tanya’s tipi.
“Oh, damn!” It was the first English word Melissa had heard Tanya utter in nearly two years.
Melissa was torn between loyalty toward Tanya and a desperate desire for freedom. “What are we going to do?” she asked.
“You do whatever you have to, Missy. This is your chance for rescue. I am going to see that no harm comes to my children… or die trying.” Tanya gathered her baby to her breast and Hunter tightly against her side. Solemnly she drew her knife and held it ready before her.
Tense seconds ticked by before the lodge flap was jerked aside. Two blood-splattered soldiers burst into the tipi, their swords drawn. Looking about they saw only the two white women and the children and lowered their weapons.
“You girls can come out now. Your friends told us we’d find two more white captives in here. You’re lucky she said something before we set fire to the tent.”
Tanya didn’t move a muscle. She just stood glaring at the men.
One man stepped toward her, his blood-stained hand held out. Kit, who had been silently guarding Tanya, rose to her feet, snarling, her tail lashing.
“Holy shit!” the man cursed as he jumped back. “I thought it was a damned rug! Call that cat off, lady.”
Tanya spoke tersely in Cheyenne and Melissa interpreted, “She said, come any closer and she’ll tell the cat to kill you.”
The soldiers gaped at Tanya in amazement. “Now wait a minute here. We’re here to help you. Don’t you understand?”
Another soldier entered the tipi. “What’s going on in here, soldier?” he demanded to know. “You were told to collect any prisoners from the tents.”
“This one won’t leave.” The first soldier pointed to Tanya.
The officer turned toward Tanya for the first time. Shock registered on his handsome fair features. “My God! Tanya!” He started toward her, and again Kit snarled. He stopped, unsure of what to do as Tanya stared holes through him.
“You know this woman, lieutenant?” The lieutenant nodded.
“Then maybe you can get her to call off that cat. This other girl says she’ll sic him on anyone who comes near.”
The lieutenant’s gaze shifted to Melissa. “Who are you?”
Melissa bristled at his sharp tone. “I think a better question is, who are you and how do you know Tanya?”
“I’m Lt. Jeffrey Young. I’m Tanya’s fiance.”
“I’m Melissa Anderson. I’m her friend.”
Tanya spoke for the first time since Jeffrey had entered the tipi. “Tell them to leave, they defile my home,” she instructed in Cheyenne.
“She wants you to leave.”
Jeffrey was stunned. “What have they done to her?” he whispered, his gaze swivelling from Tanya to Melissa and back. “Doesn’t she recognize me? Tell her to speak English.”
Tanya snarled out a guttural reply, and Melissa shifted uncomfortably.
“What did she say?” Jeffrey demanded.
Melissa turned red. “I believe its English equivalent would be ‘go to hell.’ ”
“This is ridiculous.” Jeffrey combed his fingers through his blond hair, confused. “Doesn’t she realize we’re here to rescue her?”
Melissa had started to shake in reaction to the morning’s events, but she formed an answer of her own. “Perhaps she doesn’t want to be rescued. Maybe she is sickened by your tactics, just as I am. We watched you ride through the village, murdering defenseless women, ripping people apart with your bayonets, smashing babies like toy dolls, splattering guts and brains and blood everywhere!” Her voice rose as her hysteria mounted. “You didn’t even know we would be here when you attacked the village. It’s pure luck your bullets didn’t kill us as they crashed through the tipi. If Tanya hadn’t instructed me to stay down and protect the children, I could be dead right now.” Melissa choked on her tears and was unable to say more.
It was as if this was the first Jeffrey had been aware of the children. He stared as if they were lepers. “Tell her to give them to Hanes and Billhart. They’ll take care of them.”
Tanya’s eyes shot golden flames as she raised her knife to her chest.
“She’ll kill herself before she lets you harm her sons,” Melissa warned.
His face white, Jeffrey looked as if he’d been shot in the stomach. “What did you say?” he choked out.
“She’ll kill herself and her sons before she’ll give them up to you,” she repeated. “And I’ll help her. We’ve seen what fine care you give to children!”
“What a bloody mess!” one of the soldier’s muttered. “Just shoot the damned cat, grab the brats, and let’s get going!” The man drew his pistol.
Jeffrey stared at Tanya. Finally he spoke. “Melissa, explain to her if you can that she must come with us. The corporal will shoot the cat if he has to. There is no need for her to harm herself. If she wants to bring the children,” he could not bring himself to admit aloud they were her sons, “she can. No one will take them from her.”
To Tanya he said, “There are too many of us for you to fight, Tanya. Can you understand me? I don’t know what you’ve been through to make you this way, but it must have been terrible for you. No one will hurt you. You’re safe now. We’ll get you back to your family in Pueblo, and things will be better, I promise. They are waiting for you, Tanya. None of us gave up hoping we would find you.” His words were soft and hurt, meant to reach her through her shock.
Tanya sighed tiredly. He was right about one thing. There were too many of them for her to fight, and above all else, Panther must find all alive and healthy when he came for them. That Panther would come for them, she had no doubt. “Tell him I will come, but first I must pack a few things for the journey.” Tanya refused to speak English.
Melissa related the message, and everyone visibly relaxed.
“We’ll wait outside. You have five minutes.” The men left.
Tanya packed a leather bag with clothes for herself and the boys. She strapped Mark-of-the-Archer into his cradleboard and bundled him and Hunter into thick furs against the cold. For herself she took the necklace and armbands Black Kettle and Woman-To-Be-Hereafter had given her at her adoption, and the cougar-claw necklaces, both hers and Panthers. She knew the tipi would be fired and everything she wanted must be taken now. Her wristbands she always wore, but she packed the headbands Panther and Shy Deer had made her and her panther-fur purse. In addition, she packed a change of clothes for Panther, and his favorite headbands, thinking he would want them when he rescued her. His weapons and cougar coat he already had with him. Her own hooded wrap she took down from its peg.
Tanya’s heart was breaking and her eyes glistened with tears as she looked about her at the tipi that had been her home for two and a half years. There were the hides she’d worked on this past summer, and the furs and the pouches of food. There was the cradle Panther had labored over so lovingly, and the pallet where they had shared so many passionate nights. She had learned to love Panther here in this tipi. It was here Panther had made her a woman, here she had conceived her sons, here she had given birth to Hunter. With one long, last look, she turned her back and followed Melissa outside.
Heads swiveled and stayed to watch as Tanya walked through the village, with Mark in his cradleboard on her back, Hunter on her hip, and Kit at her side. Head held high, she followed Jeffrey through the destruction, stubbornly hiding her revulsion at the sights she passed. Her anger she didn’t bother to hide, though it too, showed only in her flashing eyes and flared nostrils.
Jeffrey found a place for her and Missy away from the others, and posted a guard over them.
“Is he supposed to protect us or prevent us from sneaking away?” Tanya asked snidely, with a sidelong glance at the guard.
Melissa shook her head wearily. “I don’t know, Tanya. Both, perhaps.”
Silken Savage Page 17
