Forever Ecstasy

by Janelle Taylor

  What worried Singing Wind were the powerful currents she was perceiving between her youngest child and the stranger. If Morning Star turned to one of the enemy, she and her family would know great loss of face. A marriage between them was not possible or right. For either to seek one would cause bitterness, antagonism, and suffering.

  Yet the older woman knew how willful and strong love could be, and how fast it could work. She had pursued and yielded to Sun Cloud while promised to his brother! Even knowing what anguish and shame her actions and desires could cause she had been unable to control herself; it had been the same for her husband. They had risked humiliation and banishment, perhaps death, to win each other. Everything had worked out, and they had been happy for thirty-one years.

  There had been other mixed unions in her husband’s bloodline. Gray Eagle had joined a white woman; Bright Arrow had joined a white woman; Alisha/Shalee’s alleged father, Chief Black Cloud, had joined a white woman. Singing Wind knew that Sun Cloud and his people would fiercely resist more enemy blood weakening his Indian line. If Morning Star leaned toward a paleface, it would appear that his bloodline preferred white— enemy— mates over their own kind. It would bring great yuonihansni— shame, loss of face, dishonor— to their tepee. Added to that sting, mixed marriages were hard on a couple. Whose ways would they choose? Which side would they take during warfare?

  Singing Wind knew how like herself Morning Star was. She prayed her daughter would not forget her traditions, family, duties, and people. She prayed her child would not yearn for what could not be. She prayed that her instincts and intuition were mistaken.

  “Takucahe, Ina?” Morning Star asked her mother what was wrong.

  Singing Wind remembered that Joe had said he knew a little Lakota, so she responded in English, “We talk later, Daughter. Eat. Rest.”

  As he ate and waited, Joe wondered what was taking place in the council meeting, as it affected more than his own fate.

  Morning Star asked her mother if she could go see Buckskin Girl while the council was in progress. Singing Wind gave her permission. After telling Joe to relax and that she would return soon, Morning Star left. But she did not go to the tepee of Flaming Star to visit his daughter, her friend. She sneaked toward the meeting lodge to eavesdrop. She was glad the large and colorfully marked tepee was erected in an area near concealing trees that would aid in her bold action.

  The Oglalas’ camp was situated between black rock formations and a large lake, amidst fragrant pines and spruces. It offered more privacy than their nomadic summer camps on the Plains when tepees formed ever-widening circles around the chief’s tepee and meeting lodge. Here, they spread out amongst trees, along the lakeside, and before hills and rocks.

  Night had settled on the land, and a full moon’s light was dulled by curious clouds that gave her an eerie sensation. Women were inside their conical dwellings, occupied with children and chores. Council members and other warriors were at the meeting. Any other people were in their tepees or at waterside campfires discussing the strange event that had occurred earlier. She passed rope and branch corrals at many places, as there was no need in this safe and secluded location for warriors to picket their horses beside their tepees. She was relieved they knew her scent and stayed calm.

  Morning Star slipped from tree to tree, halting to look and listen at each one to make certain her forbidden behavior was not discovered. She had to hear what was being said and by whom…

  Inside the crowded lodge, the ritual pipe smoking and prayers had taken a long time with so many participating. The meeting in 1831 where Payaba had revealed his vision had been attended by the Council. Tonight, all warriors of high-standing were present to voice opinions.

  Members of the O-Zu-Ye Wicasta stood in circles around the councilmen who were seated on buffalo skins in the center of the group. There were several warrior societies represented whose jobs were to preserve order in camp and during moves and hunts. Some punished offenders of their laws. Some guarded the camp, led battles, and oversaw feasts and dances. Some were the keepers of the tribe’s heritage and traditions. All were highly trained warriors with numerous coups and great prowess. Most were members of the Tall Ones or Kit-Fox cults, military societies that demanded courage and honor. A few were members of the Sacred Bow cult, to which Sun Cloud had belonged in years past. Presently, Night Stalker and Knife-Slayer were Sacred Bow carriers: two of four men who took places at the fronts of battles. It was a perilous rank and had to be earned. The Sacred Bow test was as difficult and dangerous as the Sun Dance. After proving himself, a Sacred Bow carrier could resign with honor, as Sun Cloud had done when he became chief.

  Sun Cloud, other chiefs, shamen— past and present— and mature, renowned warriors were members of the Big Belly society. They were responsible for the tribe’s leadership. Since they were advanced in years and their skills were not as sharp as in earlier days, ten younger warriors— “shirt wearers”— were appointed by them to carry out their orders. Night Stalker and Knife-Slayer were also “shirt wearers.”

  Payaba, a Big Belly was one of the few Oglalas who was also a member of the Elk Dreamer cult. It was considered powerful and special and he took his rank seriously. He knew that if a man disobeyed a vision, he would be punished, usually by death. He prayed his people would heed his vision of long ago. He waited with patience.

  Wolf Eyes, the ceremonial chief, said before taking a seat, “In the east where Wi rises, the whites are as many as the drops of rain that have fallen on our land since Grandfather created it for us. They do not come here to nourish it as rain does; they come to flood, destroy, and change it. But their weapons have as great power as the lightning. If they grow many and strong and we challenge them, they will roll over us as the mighty thunder when it roars with anger.”

  The man once called Standing Tree stood tall and proud after he rose to speak. Long white hair traveled his shoulders. His eyes were clouded by age, but he saw things these days with a sharp mental vision. Numerous wrinkles lined his face, but did not take away from his pleasant expression. Gnarled fingers made tasks difficult for him, but he never complained. There was a gentleness about him that men like Hawk Eyes and his son mistook for weakness. Yet his resonant voice and dignity evoked love and respect in nearly all of his people. “We cannot fight our allied foes and the white-eyes. If we go from battle to battle, how can we make enough weapons? Or hunt buffalo for food and other needs? How can we laugh and sing, with many to place upon scaffolds? How can our women have children without fathers to plant their seeds? If we ride into battle, who will protect our camps and people? If we do not make peace, there will be no time for hunts, joys, smiles, births, or ceremonies. There will be only battles, sadness, tears, deaths, and war dances. I say we fight only in defense. I say we make truce with the whites-eyes and Crow.”

  “Both are evil,” Night Stalker said. “The Crow have slain many of our tribe. They attacked and killed my uncle, Bright Arrow and his mate. They have become friends with the whites. They are unworthy of our truce.”

  “Their truce with the white-eyes lets them survive and grow stronger. Have you forgotten how many Bird People we have slain for their bad deeds? How many prizes we have brought home after raiding their camps? We do not have to make them allies and blood brothers as with the Cheyenne and Blackfoot; but we can make truce with the Crow, Pawnee, and Shoshone. The white-eyes made truce with their enemies, the Mexicans and the British. If Indian nations remain separate and foes, the united white one will be strongest. One by one, they will defeat nation by nation, and take all Indian lands. The badger is fierce and cunning, but we respect his skills and territory. Can it not be the same with our white and Indian foes? If the white-eyes and Crow band together, the Oglala will be destroyed, and Crow will get our lands. The Great Spirit has sent us a path to truce and survival. We must help Sky Warrior ride it for us.”

  “We fight our own battles and make our own truces. We need no white man to do them for us. I say,
kill him, then ride against our foes.”

  “That is why the Crow and white-eyes will listen to him, Knife-Slayer, because his skin is white. The Great White Chief honors Tanner’s words, and all white-eyes must obey the White Chief’s words and their laws.”

  “The White Chiefs words, laws, and ways are for his people. They are not for Oglalas and our brothers. They have made what they call reservations in many places and confined whole tribes as captives. Have you forgotten what the trapper told us the winter after your… vision? He said the White Chief had made a law called the ‘Indian Removal Act’ so they can drive the Cherokees and other tribes toward the setting sun. If we do not resist, they will come to drive us far from our lands. We must live free or die fighting.”

  “The treaty will protect our lives and territory, Knife-Slayer. To give a challenge with no hope of victory is foolish and deadly.”

  “A new treaty will protect us only until the whites crave more land. Such a warning was in your past vision,” Catch the Bear reminded.

  “It is so, but that is a battle for another season. While there is peace, we can grow strong with children, weapons, and skills. If we battle every moon, we will grow small and weak; Oglalas will perish. All living things need rest, as the trees in winter. When spring comes, they are strong enough to grow taller and larger. If foes cut into their bodies and chop off their arms, they die. It is the same with the Dakota Nation.”

  “Payaba is wise and his words reach deep,” Sun Cloud said. “We must not speak or act too quickly and rashly. What do others say?”

  Flaming Star, son of White Arrow who was best friend to Gray Eagle, said, “My heart says the words of our chief and our past shaman are wise. My hatred of the Crow is great for slaying my friend Bright Arrow. I took many Crow scalps and ponies in revenge. But it is time for my sons and grandchildren to know peace. I will bury my hatred to seek it for them.”

  “When the Cheyenne and Blackfoot unite with the Seven Council Fires,” Night Stalker said, “we will be stronger than the whites or the Crow. It is wrong to crawl as a frightened or wounded dog to our foes. We must fight.”

  “Do you forget Payaba’s vision?” Talking Rock asked. It commands truce. Speak it again, Wise One, for all to hear and understand. Tell all the white man said, for those who missed his words.”

  So for those who might not have caught everything during the excitement and loud noise, Payaba repeated his past vision. Then, Sun Cloud related what Joe had said earlier.

  “We do not know whose hands claimed the messages Powchutu sent long ago,” Knife-Slayer debated. “Any eyes that touched upon them would learn the secrets inside. We do not know if Stede Gaston told others what his father told him? We do not know if this white man is his son. A hunter and warrior must live by instincts. Mine say he is not Sky Warrior.”

  “How would he know of the vision he fulfills?” Plenty Coups asked.

  “It was told to the Council and others long ago,” Knife-Slayer replied. “Warriors and hunters sometimes fall prey to white captors. Perhaps the vision was forced from one’s lips.”

  “No Red Heart would reveal our sacred secrets,” Tracks Good refuted, “not even if he is tortured and slain.”

  “Not all Red Hearts are as strong and wise as members of our great council,” Knife-Slayer retorted. “The white man has whiskey to dull wits and strange sicknesses to burn heads with fever. Some men will speak secrets when their minds are stolen by such evils. At Night Stalker’s side, we ride against our foes and shoot them from their horses with our Sacred Bows. They have never failed us. We must do so again.”

  “You cannot make and fire enough arrows to win such a battle,” Sun Cloud replied, “even with a powerful weapon of the Sacred Bow Cult. It would be hard for the same white man to steal the letters written long ago and sent far away to Stede,” he pointed out, “to learn of the past vision here, and to have his face match it. I do not believe such a thing is possible. What do you say, Hawk Eyes?” he questioned the medicine chief.

  “My heart and mind war over all I have seen and heard. I must seek counsel from the Great Spirit before I know what is right for our people. When I traveled to our Holy Mountain for guidance, I did not see this white man in my vision. If Payaba’s vision was real, not a dream, perhaps this man is not the Sky Warrior who rode in it. Evil can work in powerful and mysterious ways. The words of my son could hold strange truth.”

  “The words of Grandfather that I revealed long ago are the same as the story he told to us. I say, let him live and ride to the fort. If he lies, we will slay him when he returns.” Payaba said, glancing at Sun Cloud to see if he agreed.

  Hawk Eyes spoke again. “After I seek my vision, if it says he is Sky Warrior, we will help him. If it says he is not, we will remove his evil tongue and heart and feed them to the death-eating birds. We have known much evil from the whites. They will not change their bad hearts.”

  “What of the other Dakota tribes?” Jumping Elk asked.

  Long Horn, the war chief, replied, “When Sun Cloud and Lone Horn visited the camps of our brothers, some spoke for peace and some for war. Brave Bear of the Brule wars against the whites and attacks travelers on the white man’s trail west. Little Thunder of another Brule tribe speaks for war. Wamdesapa’s son leads his Santee as renegades; Inkpaduta’s band is for war. Tashunkopipape sees the power of the soldiers and restrains his Oglala band until we choose a path, at which time he will ride the same one. Red Cloud has joined the Bad Faces Band to his mother’s Old Smoke Band. He resists the white man’s encroachment, and he carries much power among the Tetons; but he desires peace with honor. Sitting Bull and Gall of the Hunkpapas will join us in battle; they do not trust the whites. Jumping Buffalo will vote for peace. He has many white friends, as the white trapper who gave him his medicine symbol from the raccoon and calls him Spotted Tail. Even at ten winters, his nephew Crazy Horse rides with him. Many say he will be a great warrior and he urges his uncle to fight. Wacouta, who took Walking Buffalo’s chief bonnet of the Red Wings, wants peace and will sign a new treaty. Walking Buffalo signed treaties in what the white man calls ‘1815’ and ‘1825,’ but he refused to sign again fourteen winters past. Most of the Santee Council Fires warred at the sides of the British against the whites when they fought their two great wars seventy-five and thirty-nine winters past. The British promised not to enter Dakota lands if the Dakotas helped them defeat their white colonists.”

  “The colonists were stronger and defeated the British even with the help of the Santee tribes,” Payaba reminded. “The whites are more numerous and stronger now. How can Lakotas alone defeat such a force? We cannot.”

  “Once,” Flaming Star said, “the Dakota Nation ruled more land than the whites and other tribes claim as theirs. But the woodland bands of the Santee Council Fires to the east let the Chippawas and whites push them closer to us. They were foolish to make trade with Pike for part of their territory; Mother Earth cannot and must not be sold.”

  Catch the Bear repeated the story he had been told, “They know this. They tricked the whites to get money to buy guns to battle their foes. Pike’s Treaty is worthless. The same is true of the Prairie de Chien Council and Treaty twenty-six winters past. The whites think their words and papers made truces and boundaries. They think they gave the Dakotas a large territory. The land belongs to Grandfather and is for the Dakotas’ use. The white man says we took these lands from our foes, and they will take them from us. But Tetons have been here since before the fathers of our father’s fathers. We have always been Dwellers of the Plains, as our name says, and we will always remain here.”

  “Our Indian brothers to the east— the Sauk, Fox, Shawneee, Ottawan, and Chippewa— where are they now?” Hawk Eyes asked. “Indians to the south— Cherokee, Seminole, and others— where are they now? What of the Nez Perce and Yakima to the west? What of the Kiowas, Apaches, and Comanches who fiercely battle the whites for three winters now? What of the Cheyenne and Arapaho whose lands
the whites look upon with greed these suns? The whites want us to live and think as they do. They want us to worship their god. They say we must accept their laws. They write words in what they call newspapers to arouse all whites against us. Some chiefs did not understand the meanings of their treaties; they believed the whites gave them supplies to use their lands, not to buy them. The whites used the papers the chiefs signed to get the white government to take Indian lands when the chiefs argued and resisted leaving. Some whites are good, but they are few. The bad whites are strongest and rule all whites.”

  “Hocoka is the center of all things,” Walks Tall said. “All power comes from the Sacred Hoop. As long as it is unbroken, our people will live and flourish. If we let the whites break our Circle of Life, we will die.”

  “We did not invade their lands to the east; they must not invade ours. Most come as settlers, not warriors,” Thunder Spirit, brother of Flaming Star, stated. “Their armies are great. We do not want our sons and daughters, our parents and their children slain. We must not challenge until we are certain of victory. The whites do not understand our ways. They believe they purchased Dakota lands. One man cannot sell another’s horses. The Santee cannot sell the Plains. The French cannot sell the Plains. Thunder Spirit can say Walks Tall’s horses are his, but it would not be so. If Thunder Spirit steals Pawnee horses, they are his to claim and sell. The French did not conquer our territory, so they cannot sell it to the whites.”

  “We accepted many whites among us,” Night Stalker said. “When my uncle Bright Arrow traveled with the men called Lewis and Clark, he saw and learned many things. He told my people much when he returned. That was long ago, before I was born. Since that season, many whites have followed their trail to the big waters, into the territory called Oregon. They make homesteads there and push out villages. When Indians resist, whites say they are provoked to war, so they can kill and take all. Other tribes accepted them as friends, but whites did not honor that friendship. It will be the same in our territory. We must stand against them this season.”