Spirit of the Sky

by Paty Jager

  She found the leader of the Lake Nimiipuu surrounded by what was left of his family. She slipped into his body and his emotions hit her swift and deep. Fear, anger, love, and strongest of all, survival. He would do whatever it took to keep his people alive and prospering. To keep the promise he made to his father of never giving up their home at the Wallowas. His fierce loyalty to his people hummed through his body.

  To keep them alive I must make sure no more innocent so·yá·po are killed. Sa-qan fed this thought into his mind.

  “I must talk with Looking Glass and Lean Elk,” Joseph said, rising and walking toward the center of the encampment. Sa-qan kept his gait unhurried and stopped here and there to allow him to ask after wounded members of the band.

  His resistance to her manipulations stuttered his footsteps when Looking Glass and Lean Elk both walked to the center of the encampment. How did they know I wished to speak to them? His internal question and suspicious probing of his mind made her wonder if he realized he was being manipulated.

  The three leaders greeted one another and discussed their concerns over the young warriors anger and the killing of so·yá·po who did not hinder the Nimiipuu’s journey.

  Looking Glass called over a young boy and ordered him to have all the warriors in camp come to them.

  Our plan is working. Wewukiye communicated to Sa-qan.

  Do not celebrate yet. The warriors still need to agree.

  The warriors arrived, talking among themselves and eyeing the three leaders standing side by side with their arms crossed, watching the gathering.

  Looking Glass raised his arms. “We are concerned your anger could cause more pain for our people.”

  Grumbling and narrowed stares peered at the leaders.

  Sa-qan nudged Joseph. All knew he loved the people and cared deeply for their well being.

  “We know the evil and hatred in the hearts of the so·yá·po for our people. It was witnessed seven suns ago when the soldiers swept through our camp killing women, children, and our honored old ones.”

  Angry shouts and mumbling rolled through the gathered crowd.

  “The Nimiipuu do not kill women and children, we have honor. Honor that cannot be striped from us by the so·yá·po.” Joseph peered at the group of warriors. His sadness swallowed Sa-qan, pulling on her txiyak, draining her. “When we kill the so·yá·po men for no reason we become like soldiers. Warriors do not kill unless they are defending their people. When you come upon a so·yá·po, think: Am I a Nimiipuu warrior or a soldier? Do not kill unless our people are in danger.”

  “Joseph speaks for your leaders. We must not kill unless the people are threatened.” Looking Glass swept his arms open wide. “We must be united in this to reach our freedom.”

  Some warriors nodded others mumbled and wandered away. Sa-qan drifted out of Joseph, slipping through the crowd and judging the reactions of the warriors. Some agreed with the leaders, others thought the leaders weak. She could do nothing more, only hope the warriors heeded the leader’s words. She hurried from the camp and shifted to a bald eagle, returning to the area where she met Wewukiye and Dove.

  “Do you think it will help?” Dove asked, trotting up under the tree.

  “It will not stop all the killing.” Sa-qan remembered the sadness, anger, and desperation in Joseph and realized each Nimiipuu in the camp felt the same. “We can only hope some warriors will think of our people before killing a so·yá·po.”

  “Wewukiye told me you have made friends with a soldier.”

  Dove’s comment took Sa-qan by surprise. She should have known her brother would not keep anything from his wife.

  “Is it wise?”

  “Is what wise?” Wewukiye asked, trotting up to the two of them.

  “Your sister being friends with a soldier.”

  Wewukiye leveled his narrowed blue eyes on Sa-qan. “It is not wise. I hope you do not plan to show yourself to him again.”

  Sa-qan had no plans of talking with Wade again, unless necessary to save the people. But her brother’s disapproval only made her wish for Wade’s accepting company. “I will not seek him out. But should his life be in danger or he can help the Nimiipuu, I will see he comes to no harm.”

  “You cannot expect anything other than treachery from a soldier.” Wewukiye swung his massive antlers and rattled the tree limbs above him.

  Sa-qan spread her wings. Her brother would never understand that they may need the help of someone like Wade to save the Nimiipuu. “I am going to see if there are any soldiers nearby.” She leapt into the air and soared toward the setting sun. Her head wanted the soldiers to never catch up with the Nimiipuu, but the new emotions swirling in her hoped to spend more time with a certain soldier.

  With that thought first in her mind, she soared back toward the ravine to make sure Wade safely climbed down off the ledge. Would she show herself to him if she found him alone? Her heart picked up speed. It was wrong to crave a kiss from the enemy. But the contentment of his arms around her and the bliss of his lips upon hers…she closed her eyes and reveled in the security and happiness his arms brought to her.

  Opening her eyes, she scanned the landscape below. She could allow herself nothing more than memories. Wade was the enemy and a mortal. Both entities that could never learn her true identity. She had to keep her distance to make sure that did not happen. Loneliness had not made itself known to her until spending time with the lieutenant.

  But she must remain alone and do what the Creator expected of her.

  Save the Nimiipuu.

  `Oyma`tat

  (8)

  Wade spent five long days in the saddle with brief rests at night as Howard pressed the troops forward at a grueling pace. Weariness etched the troops’ faces as their bodies weaved in their saddles on fatigued horses. The lethargic movements didn’t deter the commanding officer.

  The company halted, and Wade urged his tired horse up beside the other officers. A path of trodden vegetation from fifty to one hundred and fifty feet wide proved they stood on the trail of the Nez Perce. Grooves in the ground from the travois pulling the wounded marked a path between multiple horse hoofprints. Wade peered into the distance, and a cloud of dust could be seen giving away the location of the tribe.

  “Is that a signal of some kind?” An officer pointed to a cone-shaped stack of horse droppings.

  “They are saying soldiers are lower than horse droppings,” one Bannock scout said.

  Wade hadn’t seen this before and couldn’t refute or encourage the comment. General Howard believed the scout and took offense to the reference.

  The company continued at an increased speed, pushing the tired animals and men to their limits. Wade noticed fresh earth mounds scattered along the trail. He shook his head, wishing there was a way to convince the Indians to surrender before more deaths ensued. But he knew by the vengeance glinting in Howard’s eyes, the general wouldn’t take a peaceful surrender. He wanted to prove his might to the Indians.

  They camped at a meadow with several streams bisecting the flat areas. The companies and civilian groups of nearly two hundred and fifty men spread out across the meadow, some animals staked between camps, others grazed between the creeks. Some pitched tents while others, too tired to care, slept under the wagons.

  Though exhausted, Wade couldn’t keep a blonde woman from his thoughts. How could he make sure no harm came to her? Especially when she was bent on staying with the very people they intended to incarcerate on a reservation?

  Dreams finally took him from his thoughts but held him captive remembering Angel’s warm body and sweet kisses.

  A volley of rifle shots woke Wade. He grabbed his weapons and crouched on his blanket peering into the growing light of dawn as men scrambled for cover amid shouts and curses. The sound of stampeding hooves reverberated in the crisp morning air. His blood pumped, and his survival instinct kept him low to the ground as the volley of shots continued. The camp was surrounded. Bullets whistled through the air from
all directions. Soldiers grabbed their rifles and dove for the willow thickets along the streams, finding cover wherever they could.

  Wade rallied his men, keeping them low as they returned fire.

  The exchange filled the air with loud booms, acrid gunpowder smoke, and the tang of fear. The crack and whistle of the volley waned and stopped.

  Wade worked his way to the general’s tent. Mounted on his horse, the general shouted orders. He spotted Wade and waved him over.

  “The heathens stole our mules. Gather your men and go after them.”

  Wade nodded and strode back to his troop. “Gather your horses, we’re going after the mules.”

  Private Marks returned leading a mount for Wade.

  He nodded and climbed onto the saddle. “Trumpter, sound the chase.”

  The cloud of dust the mule herd stirred fashioned an excellent flag. The troop headed out at a lope following the billowing cloud.

  ****

  Sa-qan watched from above as Wade led a group of soldiers after the animals stolen by the Nimiipuu. A confrontation would happen when they caught up. One she could do nothing about. Fear struck her at the thought Wade would be in the forefront of the altercation. She could not enter his body. Having experienced the closeness they held, he would know she was within him. He must stay alive and well. Her generations as a spirit told her he was the key to the Nimiipuu’s future.

  Creator, help me. How can I keep this mortal alive to help our people? Frustration over the Creator’s lack of communication since the beginning of this journey clouded her mind. Why have you left me to do this alone? The Creator’s silence worried her. Had he found disfavor with her for showing herself to Girl of Many Hearts? If so, would he not have reprimanded rather than shut her out? Was his silence confirming her actions or discounting them? Confusion swirled in her head, weakening her wings. Her body plummeted downward before she flapped her wings and caught a breeze to carry her toward the stopped Nimiipuu warriors.

  Warriors talked with their arms flailing and their voices rising on the morning air.

  “We stole mules.”

  “It was dark.”

  “Now we know why the animals were not well guarded.”

  “What do we do with them?”

  “This will slow the soldiers. They need these animals to carry their supplies,” Frog said, approaching the arguing warriors. “This will give our people time to get ahead of Cut Arm.”

  “Horses would be better. They travel faster and are less troublesome.” The warrior from Looking Glass’s band stood nearly toe to toe with Frog.

  “We did not get horses. We will take advantage of what we did steal.” Frog waved for the group to continue.

  The Nimiipuu started herding the animals, but the soldiers caught up and managed to cut out some of the mules and horses only to lose them back in the herd following after the warriors. Sa-qan wished she could will the horses carrying the warriors to move faster and the soldiers’ horses slower. She did not want the confrontation to happen, but knew of no way to stop the soldiers or hide the Nimiipuu.

  In an area of timbered rocky ridges a good distance over, the majority of the warriors found cover and shot at the soldiers as they rode into view. Other warriors continued to drive the mules toward the band. The soldiers leaped from their horses and sought cover. Several men led the saddled animals some distance away in the shelter of trees.

  Sa-qan found a vantage point in the top of a tree to keep an eye on Wade. Her heart raced erratically when her keen sight noticed the warriors purposely picked off the officers.

  The Nimiipuu began creeping forward under the cover of the bushes, trees, and boulders. One by one a soldier of leadership would fall back from a shot that rang out from a rock outcropping close to the soldiers’ trenches.

  She had to warn Wade. He must not wear the clothing of the soldier leaders. Her instincts did not allow her to hurt a Nimiipuu, but she could not let a warrior creeping toward Wade injure him. If he delivered a fatal shot, she could not help Wade. Sa-qan leaped in the air and soared down to the warrior, snatching the rifle from his hands and carrying it to the waiting Nimiipuu horses. Sa-qan dropped the weapon and flew back to her perch. She shuffled her weight from foot to foot as her mind searched for a way to warn Wade.

  The warrior she disarmed remained hidden in the spot where she snatched the gun. His eyes wide. His lips moving. She hoped his chat with himself allayed his fear.

  She couldn’t disarm every warrior that aimed at Wade. Fear squeezed her chest. How could she save him, other than take him from all of this? That was it. She should have never let him return to the soldiers chasing the Nimiipuu. She should have talked him into…what? He was a soldier as much as the Nimiipuu warriors prided themselves of their status.

  Another warrior crept toward Wade’s rocky barricade. The other soldiers were slowly withdrawing as well as the majority of the warriors. She had to make the warrior change his mind. Shifting from her eagle form, Sa-qan floated down and into the warrior. With as much stealth as he used to get near Wade’s hiding spot, she maneuvered the warrior back to his horse and the retreating warriors. Once the warrior sat on the back of his horse, she slipped from his body and drifted through the trees shifting into an eagle again and watching after her soldier.

  Wade maneuvered back to his horse and mounted. The troops gathered their wounded to return to General Howard. Wade found Private Marks helping an injured man onto a horse.

  “Private, get our troop and wounded back to the general.” Wade pulled the head of his horse around.

  Marks put a hand on his leg. “Sir, where are you going?”

  “I’m going to follow and see what I can learn. One person can maneuver through their sentries easier than a whole platoon.” He shifted his leg, dropping the private’s hand. “Tell the general I’ll bring back information.”

  “That’s what the scouts are for,” Private Marks said. His eyes and tone suggested Wade planned a suicide mission.

  “I don’t trust the Bannock scouts.” Wade nudged his mount forward. The horse proved as tired as he felt, but he’d determined while hunkered down behind that lava bluff there had to be a way to stop the bloodshed. If he could find Angel maybe the two of them could put their heads together and find the resolution.

  “Lieutenant Watts. The Indians are retreating.”

  Wade drew back the reins and shifted in the saddle. Captain Carr watched him.

  “Sir, I’m going to follow and see what I can learn.”

  The captain glared at him through tired eyes. “If I didn’t know your record, I’d say you were running.”

  “No sir, not running. I’m tired of relying on scouts. If the Indians were this close to steal our horses and mules then the whole group can’t be that far.” They were, in fact, by his calculations heading into the newly formed Yellowstone Park.

  “How do you propose to let us know when you’ve found them?” The captain’s body sagged as he continued to hinder Wade’s departure.

  “I’m not sure, but one man alone can infiltrate the scouts they send out far easier than a party of riders.”

  “Agreed, but it makes getting information back to us a problem.” The captain straightened and kneed his horse into a walk. “I think this is a dilemma best settled by General Howard.”

  “Not to be disrespectful, sir. But I’ve already made up my mind. Tell the general I’ll be back with news when I have some.” Wade dug the heels of his boots into the horse’s ribs and loped in the direction the Indians disappeared.

  He didn’t hear the sound of horses racing after him. That meant Captain Carr had allowed him to chase his folly or what Private Marks dubbed his suicide mission.

  Once he loped a good distance from the ambush area, he slowed his horse to a walk and searched the ground for signs of the mule herd and the area around him for straggling warriors. He knew his decision wasn’t a wise one by military standards or even by the standards of any sane person. But he had to fi
nd Angel and ultimately find a way to help her and the people she believed were her family. His conscience couldn’t live with all the killing. He’d had enough.

  Wade followed the wide path of trampled grass and bushes throughout the day, resting his horse in secluded areas to avoid being seen by Nez Perce scouts. As the afternoon sun slid lower in the sky, he caught sight of a plume of dust headed northeast. It had to be either the stolen mules or the Nez Perce. He knew how fatigued the troops and their animals had become. What must the Indians be experiencing with their wounded, women, and children to keep moving at a rushed pace?

  His horse wobbled under him. Wade stopped, dismounted, and led the poor creature to water. He scanned the area for grass to feed his horse. He’d have to live off of small creatures he could snare and the rations in his saddlebag. Shooting his rifle for food would not only waste ammunition it could signal his location to Nez Perce scouts.

  The horse slurped from the trickling creek, and Wade loosened the cinch, tugging the saddle off and placing it at the base of a tree. For the first time in months the tightness in his shoulders eased with each camp activity he performed. He only had to worry about his own safety not that of nearly one hundred men. The relieved pressure didn’t lessen his vigilance. Being alone, while having its own virtues, also meant he was the only sentry.

  He tied a line between two trees where a fair amount of grass grew and tethered his horse to the line. Setting a snare took less time than scrounging up small dry twigs to make a smokeless fire. The coffee had brewed when a rabbit squealed. Wade jogged to the snare and found a full grown hare caught by the leg. He killed the animal, skinned it, and had it roasting over the fire by the time darkness dropped over his small camp. Roast rabbit would taste a lot better than beans.

  Wade leaned back against a tree, his legs stretched out toward the fire. His ears listened to all the night sounds. From years of outdoor living, he knew the difference between peaceful night noises and the danger that lurked in silence.

  He leaned forward and cut a leg from the cooked carcass. The chorus of frogs stilled. He craned his neck, listening. The sounds renewed. His stopped heart pumped again, booming in his ears.