by Terry Grosz
Then pausing in his storytelling for the effect it would have on his listeners, Spotted Eagle finally continued saying, “But then as we did, we ran across other Bad Seed white men trappers who appeared to be hunting those trappers who had killed the Bad Seed from our tribe. I was curious as to why the Bad Seed trappers were following the other white man trappers, so we followed them to see why they were following, and because we needed to get to Fort Union as well for more supplies, powder and lead ourselves.”
“A day later, we came upon the Bad Seed trappers once again and saw that they had taken the other white men trappers that we had been trailing, prisoner, and one of those prisoners was my Brother, Iron Hand! I then knew we needed to stop the white men Bad Seeds, and began moving into their camp to ambush them in order to save all of you and my Brother. For a while we saw that my Brother was taking matters into his own hands and making good his escape. But he was discovered and when he was, we decided we had best help my Brother at that moment and we did. As we moved in closer, I discovered that one of the Bad Seed white men was none other than the one who had abused my wife, Sinopa, in her younger years, and I vowed to personally kill him and have all my warriors kill all the other Bad Seeds as well. That we did and now here all of us sit around the campfire as brothers in happiness, now that all the Bad Seed white men trappers are the bait for the fish and birds,” finally ended Spotted Eagle’s story. When he had finished speaking, there was hardly a word among the trappers and warriors out of respect for the young sub-chief who had brought them into battle and had saved his Brother, Iron Hand and his friends… Plus, Spotted Eagle was able to settle a long festering sore in being able to avenge the many wrongs against his wife, Sinopa, caused by a bad white man trapper now covered with many black and white birds enjoying a meal….
Then all of a sudden, there was a lot of loud yelling and a great commotion up by the corral holding all of the trappers’ horses! One of Spotted Eagle’s braves had discovered the young Indian boy who had been all but forgotten in the killing that had previously occurred, digging through a pack full of provisions looking for something to eat! Moments later, Spotted Eagle’s brave brought into the area of the campfire a struggling young Indian boy by the scruff of his neck. The brave walked over to Spotted Eagle and roughly deposited the young Indian onto the ground in front of Spotted Eagle, as if the Indians’ leader was to make a decision on whether he lived or died being that he had been part of the Bad Seed trappers’ camp.
Iron Hand, who had been quietly sitting on a log by the fire, all of a sudden realized his ‘sixth sense’ was roiling around inside him like he had not felt it doing so in many years! Rising to his feet to intercede, since the young Indian boy had been the one who had slipped Iron Hand the knife allowing him and his fellow trappers to escape, in case Spotted Eagle wanted the boy killed as well, he suddenly froze in mid-step.
Spotted Eagle had observed something about the young Indian boy’s dress and instead of speaking to him in the Blackfoot tongue, began speaking to him in the language of the Blackfoot’s nearby Sioux Indian neighbors. Upon his hearing his native tongue being spoken, the boy instantly began intently listening to Spotted Eagle. As the rest of the trappers and Blackfoot warriors intently looked on, Spotted Eagle kept conversing with the boy. After a few more moments of conversation with the boy, Spotted Eagle turned to the on-listening trappers saying, “The boy’s name is “Wambleeska” in the language of the Sioux. His name translates into “White Eagle”. White Eagle tells me that his father, two uncles and his older brothers took a number of the younger men from their village many moons ago and were out hunting buffalo. While butchering out their kills, they were approached by what they thought were friendly white trappers. The Sioux began trading fresh buffalo meat with what they thought were friendly traders and then all of a sudden, the adults were all killed by the trappers and the six younger boys were all taken as prisoners. White Eagle says the bad trappers then later sold off all the young boys including himself, to other trappers and traders and the people who work for what they called “The Queen” in the country to the north. He was kept by the bad trappers so he could help around the camp and tend to the horses. He says he has been with the trappers for over 11 moons since his capture. But he also says that he was treated badly by the leader of the bad trappers, who beat him many times in the past and did not feed him very well. He also says that when the bad trapper leader beat him after capturing the ‘good trappers’ and the big trapper with the heavy beard told the trapper leader to quit beating him, that the large trapper was then beaten badly trying to save him. White Eagle says that is why he gave the large trapper with the heavy beard and long hair a knife so he could let himself go and not get any more beatings.”
Then Spotted Eagle did something that surprised everyone around the campfire. “Iron Hand, since you saved this boy from being beaten by John Pierre like you did my Sinopa so long ago and then he saved you by giving you a knife so you could cut your ropes so you could escape, I think he is now your responsibility! He has no living parents and you should have a ‘son’. I think that is the way it should be and that is what The Great Spirit is telling me to do with him”…
Still standing as if to intercede if Spotted Eagle was going to kill the boy because he had been with John Pierre’s trappers, Iron Hand, upon hearing those words regarding the young Sioux boy being given to him as a son by Spotted Eagle, stood there dumbfounded for a few moments. Then Iron Hand noticed that everyone around the campfire was looking at him expecting him to say or do something regarding what had just happened. It was then that a feeling of ‘family’ like he had not had for years, slowly enveloped him like a warm bear robe sleeping fur! Following that warmth of having a ‘family’ moment flooding over his body, Iron Hand noticed that his ‘sixth sense’ was also warmly rolling around in him like he had not experienced since the day he had married the love of his life back in Missouri years earlier!
Then without really knowing why, Iron Hand all of a sudden found his right arm and hand being slowly extended towards the young Sioux Indian boy in a welcoming sort of way. Seeing that gesture coming from the trapper that had saved him from a beating from John Pierre earlier, the boy slowly walked away from Spotted Eagle and over to Iron Hand. Taking the boy’s hand, Iron Hand, without a word being spoken between the two of them, walked White Eagle over to the campfire and saw to it that the young man had something to eat. With that gesture on the part of Iron Hand, everyone else around the campfire began talking, eating and drinking like nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred. But something out of the ordinary had occurred, as Iron Hand found years of sorrow over the loss of his first family almost being lifted and in a strange and good way, melted away from his inner person and memories with the addition of the young man now into his life!
For the next two days, Spotted Eagle’s band of warriors and Old Potts’s trappers camped together, resting, eating life-sustaining buffalo meat at every meal and letting their horses ‘put on the feed bag’ with rich Missouri bottom lush grasses as well. That was also the time when Iron Hand discovered that in his 11 months of capture under John Pierre, his new ‘son’ White Eagle, had learned to speak passable English, having learned and been taught that language by all of his captors.
Because of White Eagle’s ability to understand English, Iron Hand found himself quietly teaching the young man many things from the English language, as well as the proper use of firearms and how to care for saddling and packing horses. The rest of Old Potts’s trappers also enjoyed those two days of rest, especially when it came to watching Iron Hand and White Eagle ‘taking to each other’ like a beaver does to water and fast developing a normal ‘father-son’ frontier relationship.
Come day three after the killing of the evil John Pierre and his like in kind trappers, Spotted Eagle, his mission over in discovering the death of his village’s Bad Seed and now the killing of John Pierre while saving his white man Brother, made ready to leave and go ba
ck to his village near Medicine Lake, his wife and young family. Sitting on their horses with his warriors and making ready to leave, Iron Hand bid his Brother, Spotted Eagle, safe travels back to his village near Medicine Lake. As he did, Spotted Eagle leaned down from his horse and quietly told Iron Hand, “Care for White Eagle as if he were your own, because he now is as a gift to you from The Great Spirit.” Iron Hand grinned over hearing those words from his Brother and had already pretty much realized the same…
Standing there with White Eagle watching Spotted Eagle and his warriors riding off to the northeast, White Eagle said, “Father, he is a brave and good man.” Hearing the word ‘Father’ used for the first time coming from White Eagle, and remembering the loss of his biological son to smallpox years earlier, brought tears to Iron Hand’s eyes and a newfound joy to his heart as well…
By noon the following day, Old Potts’s trappers were saddled, had their pack strings loaded and assembled for the continuation of their trip to Fort Union. Once again, Old Potts took the lead leading a long pack string, followed by Otis and Big Foot doing the same, accompanied by White Eagle now leading a pack string as well. Next in line came the Brothers Dent leading fully loaded pack strings, followed by Iron Hand and Crooked Hand riding ‘drag’, trailing two longer pack strings of packed horses and John Pierre’s trappers’ riding horses in tow as well. As the heavily loaded pack strings left their Missouri River camp of ‘death and renewal’, they rode by a large, now bloating in death, naked man, quietly hanging and gently swinging from a stout cottonwood tree limb overhanging the swiftly flowing river! In passing such a gruesome sight, all the riders noticed that the man’s naked body was heavily covered by ‘wing-flapping’ and happily feasting black-billed magpies and ironically, a “murder” of crows…
Two days of travel later and the learning experiences that came from that, gave Iron Hand pause and a proud smile over his new son’s performance. White Eagle had taken to the love and teaching moments that Iron Hand had shared with him like a river otter did to chasing a fat rainbow trout… Then finally seeing the fort coming into view, Iron Hand could see his new son standing up in his shortened stirrups, eagerly looking at a sight like something that he had never seen before. Looking back once again, Iron Hand could see the look of wonder in White Eagle’s eyes seeing the fort for the first time and had to smile. However, behind that smile lay a ‘world’ of questions without answers whirling around in the man named Iron Hand. Questions that would soon require answers, if Iron Hand was to understand the meaning of the restlessness of the ‘sixth sense’ in his body and now racing around in the annals of his mind.
Once again, their friend McKenzie from Fort Union, as was his tradition, met the oncoming strings of trappers approaching the walls of his fort in anticipation of the business in furs the arriving trappers would be bringing. Then all of a sudden, realizing who the newly arriving trappers were, McKenzie got an even-wider grin on his face, especially seeing the large herd of valuable horses being trailed into the fort and once again the story to be they represented. The story the long string of horses represented, since this same band of trappers had left his fort a year earlier with less horseflesh than they were now bringing back into the area.
“Potts, you old scudder, how the hell do you and your trappers manage to do this every year you come back to the fort? For the last three trapping seasons, you four trappers have left the fort with less horses than you come back with. What is the story this time?” asked an eager for the tale to be told, McKenzie.
“It is a long story, Mr. McKenzie. However, if me and mine are invited for one of those fine suppers you and your Chinese cooks manage to put on in this God-forsaken place, then I could be encouraged and nudged to tell the tale and what a tale it is,” replied Old Potts with a huge grin.
“Bring your caravan into the walls of my fort so your furs can be counted and graded by my Clerks and after that bit of business is transacted, you and yours will be my honored guests for supper this evening. Then damn your old hide, with enough of my rum, I hope that will loosen up your tongue so I can hear what kind of a tale you have to tell me this time,” said McKenzie, obviously glad to see that his old friends still had their hair and were bringing him some more rich furs, riding and packhorses as well.
About then McKenzie noticed White Eagle leading a pack string and not remembering him as part of Old Potts’s crew of trappers, pointed to him out of surprise saying, “Say, Old Potts, who is your new member riding with your gang of trappers?”
“That is a story that surely needs telling. However, Iron Hand will have to advise you about this young lad and how we came about him,” said Old Potts, as he rode his string of animals up and into the fort’s central courtyard where several Company Clerks were waiting.
As Iron Hand rode into the fort’s interior with his pack string, he rode up alongside Crooked Hand and handed him the reins to all his horses. Leaning over towards Crooked Hand, Iron Hand said, “White Eagle and I need to make a little trip over to one of the warehouses housing all the candy and such.” Then with a wink and a smile from Crooked Hand, Iron Hand dismounted and had White Eagle take his pack string over to another waiting Company Clerk so he could count and grade out his furs. Then taking White Eagle in hand, the two walked over to one of the warehouses holding much of the sugar, honey, candy, canned jams, and the like. Walking in, Iron Hand saw White Eagle’s eyes almost ‘explode’ open over all that he was seeing spread out before him on all the shelves and counters.
Taking his new son over to a section of the store holding the sweets, Iron Hand told White Eagle to try some. Hesitant to do anything over something he had never seen before, Iron Hand kept up the encouragement until White Eagle took a piece of hard candy and tried it. Moments after popping the hard candy into his mouth, he got a huge smile on his face and like many other young kids, was hooked for life!
That evening seated around McKenzie’s supper table, White Eagle’s eyes never were less than fully wide open over seeing all the riches of food and things like he had never seen before, like tablecloths, napkins, silverware, expensive crystal drinking goblets, and the like. But he was a quick learner and one could see him watching others and then following suit in what they were doing. That night, White Eagle slept in a bed for the very first time in his life. Then not liking its softness, he removed all his covers and slept on the wooden floor next to the bed!
CHAPTER TWELVE: A “FAMILY” NO MORE -- OLD POTTS, BIG FOOT AND CROOKED HAND CHOOSE TO STAY
Having moved out from the Clerk’s cabin in the fort, Old Potts’s crew and the Brothers Dent chose to make camp in the Missouri River bottoms, along with the rest of the American Fur Company Trappers and Free Trappers that were arriving on a daily basis. One morning early, Iron Hand and White Eagle, now being taught how to cook the white man’s way, were found together as ‘father and son’ making biscuit dough for their Dutch ovens and the breakfast to be. By now, the strong trapper’s coffee was boiling away and a number of buffalo steaks were deliciously ‘fat-spattering’ away over a bed of glowing red coals, as they loosely hung from their iron cooking stakes.
About then, Old Potts emerged from their lean-to and took a seat on a sitting log next to the fire in order to warm up. As he did and being taught daily regarding proper white man’s manners when around their elders, White Eagle poured a steaming cup of coffee, walked over to where he was sitting and handed it to Old Potts.
“Thank you, White Eagle,” said Old Potts appreciating the young man’s manners, but that was not why the old man was up so early that morning. He had been watching Iron Hand as he went about his duties and could see that he was ‘mouthing’ a piece of buffalo steak that was almost too big for him to swallow and when he did, he was not too sure if he liked it or not.
“Iron Hand, can we talk?” asked Old Potts.
“We always have been able to, ever since I have known you. What is on your mind?” asked Iron Hand, as he began ‘hand forming’ another bis
cuit for his waiting and ready Dutch oven.
“You seem to be chewing on something that is too tough or big to swaller. What is it that is ailing you and sticking in your craw?” asked Old Potts.
Iron Hand stopped making his biscuit, turned and said, “It is that obvious, is it?”
“Yep, it is that obvious to anyone who has at least one good eye and has known you for a while,” said Old Potts, as he quietly eyed Iron Hand for his reaction to his probing personal question.
Laying the biscuit into the bottom of the Dutch oven alongside all the other biscuits, setting the cast-iron kettle over a bed of coals, and placing the lid just removed from the fire over the top of the pot so they could bake, he then shoveled some more coals onto the lid, turned and looked at Old Potts, who was looking intently right back at him.
“I have been doing some deep thinking. Now that I have a young man that I am responsible for, I have been wondering if living out here in this place where danger is at most every corner on a daily basis, if this is what I want for him. He has already lost his parents and older brothers, along with being mistreated by John Pierre’s bunch, and I am a-wondering what is next in line for him in this frontier killing and dying department,” said Iron Hand slowly, as if a little hesitant to share such deep inner feelings with anyone until he had made up his mind and ‘had ridden off the rough’ over all of his concerns.
Continuing after a few more moments of quiet introspection, Iron Hand said, “Old Potts, I just feel a strong responsibility to raise up White Eagle correct and proper like and give him something other than the possibility of an arrow in the guts, a bullet in the head, getting him busted up in a horse wreck, being in the clutches of a mean-assed grizzly bear, drowning in a fast-flowing river, or freezing to death in the mud and cold water of a beaver pond. There has just got to be more for him than just an unmarked grave way out here on the frontier or ending up as grizzly bear scat out on the prairie somewhere. I already have lost one family by bringing them from the civilized part of the country out into the wilds of early St. Louis and having them contracting smallpox and dying from it several days later from its effects. I really don’t relish the idea of doing the same to this young man, only out here on the frontier in the way it often happens, especially to one whom I now consider my son. I just feel I have been given a second chance at having some semblance of a family and I don’t want to risk losing what I now have. Can you understand why I am having these misgivings and why I am feeling what I am feeling?”
