Dull Knife made a stony-faced gesture of dismissal. “We will not go back to Indian Territory; it is hot and our people die there. If we must die, we will do it here in our own land.”
Captain Wessells seemed to be barely holding his temper. “I have asked Washington for the delay, but they say nein, and I must fallow orders. Go tell your people.”
“There is nothing to say,” Dull Knife answered with great dignity. “We will not go.” At that point, he turned and marched out of the office. His warriors followed him out. Two Arrows paused outside, looking at the snowdrifts and worried as much about Proud One as about his own people.
Muldoon came out just then and stood next to him. They watched the old men walking back to the barracks.
“Aw, Two Arrows, I’m that sorry. I wish I could—”
“I know, Muldoon; it’s not your fault.” He looked down at his worn moccasins and thought about subfreezing temperatures and sickly people without enough blankets and warm coats. Most of them would die on the return trip. “Did you reach Krueger?”
“Yes, I suppose he’s on his way, but with this weather, there’s no telling when he’ll get here.”
“Good, then she’ll be safe. Now I only have to worry about the rest of them.”
“This is loco,” Muldoon rubbed his hands together. “I’ve grown right fond of that wee child, Grasshopper, and her old grandma. They can’t survive that long march.”
“Muldoon, we aren’t going; you heard Dull Knife. We’d rather die here and now than slowly in Indian Territory. I only hope Krueger arrives in time to get Proud One before—”
“I’m sorry,” Muldoon whispered. “I’m truly sorry.”
“You’re a good man, Muldoon; there’s going to be some soldiers killed if they try to force us; I hope you aren’t one of them.”
“ ’Tis suicide to resist,” Muldoon protested.
“And it’s suicide if we have to walk through blizzards. You’re a gambling man, Muldoon; looks like our odds are bad either way.”
“By the Blessed Mother, I wish I could help you poor devils.”
“Thanks for your kindness; just pray that the captain will at least get here in time to save my woman.” Two Arrows strode away toward the barracks, lost in thought. It appeared he’d have to take desperate action to save Proud One if David Krueger didn’t get here in time.
That evening, the Cheyenne decided they would no longer come out of the barracks. The captain sent a soldier to read an announcement that he was going to cut off food and fuel and that the women and children should come out and surrender. Only a handful came out.
Two Arrows urged Glory to leave, but she shook her head, stubborn as any Cheyenne woman. “We have talked it over,” she said, “and the women have decided that Captain Wessells will not fire on the barracks as long as there are women and children inside; to do so would look bad in the newspaper, so as long as the women stay, our men are safe.”
He put his arm around her shoulders, hugging her to him, wondering how many days it would be before David Krueger arrived on the post? The barracks was like a powder keg that would soon explode. Two Arrows did not want Proud One to be here when it happened.
She looked up at him, her dark eyes so large in her small face as she reached to touch his cheek. “What is it? I know you well enough to know something’s wrong.”
“I’m worried about the outcome of this, that’s all.” It was difficult to look into her eyes and lie to her. Instead, he took her in his arms and held her close, relishing each moment, knowing that he had only hours or maybe a day or two at best before she was taken away by David Krueger. The thought of her in another man’s arms almost tore his heart out, but she would be safe, and that was what mattered most.
“I’ve got to help Moccasin Woman,” she said. “The women are going to ration out the food, see how long we can make it last.”
“You eat my share.”
“No.” She shook her head. “There’s too many children and old ones; I couldn’t take it with good conscience.”
He nodded, his mind busy with the problems facing the people as he watched her walk away, relishing the look of her, the warmth of her. She would make David Krueger a better wife than he deserved. The thought made him swallow hard and his resolve weaken. He must not weaken, not if he loved her.
Dull Knife called a meeting of his main leaders to discuss what to do next.
Two Arrows sat on the floor with the others, knowing there were few options. “All I can suggest is that we try to break out when the soldiers least expect it, try to find and rejoin Little Wolf.”
There was much discussion, each trying to find a less grim alternative; but there seemed to be none.
Dull Knife looked around at the silent women and children. “We can last a while without food and firewood; maybe in the meantime, Washington will change its mind.”
Two Arrows said, “The women are rationing the food, and we can break up furniture and wooden beams of the barracks to keep the stove going a day or so more.”
The others nodded with approval.
Crow said, “We have those few guns hidden under the floor we can assemble.”
“How many?” Wild Hog asked.
“Maybe five old rifles and a dozen pistols,” Two Arrows said.
For a long moment, no one said anything. Two Arrows watched his breath drift on the cold air of the dim light. Somewhere in the barracks, a baby whimpered, and its mother tried to shush it.
Old Dull Knife asked, “Do we have even one bullet for each gun?”
“Maybe one or two each,” Crow answered, “but we can tear up the bunks and iron pieces from the stove to make clubs.”
A handful of bullets and a few clubs against all those soldiers’ rifles, Two Arrows thought, and knew the others were thinking the same.
Wild Hog said, “If we have to break out, we have a better chance getting away at night.”
“We are in the midst of a full moon,” Two Arrows said. “With the moon reflecting off the snow, it will be like daylight out there.”
Old Dull Knife nodded. “If we could wait a few days more, the nights will be moonless.”
A murmur of agreement went around the circle. They would wait until they were forced to act.
Tangle Hair, leader of the dog soldiers, said, “If we must break out, the dog soldiers will do as tradition calls for; we will be the last ones out and try to cover the others’ escape.”
It was the Cheyenne way, Two Arrows thought, the dog soldiers always covered the retreat. They would certainly die as the soldiers recovered from their surprise and began to fire on the escaping Indians. He did not question his fate; he was proud that his people had accepted him again. It was better to be an honored dog soldier than a drunken white man’s scout.
Dull Knife got to his feet slowly. “It is decided then.”
The meeting broke up, but as Two Arrows returned to his bunk, Proud One caught his arm. “What is this I hear about the dog soldiers staying behind to cover the escape?”
He shrugged. “It is the dog soldiers’ tradition, just as we did on the march.”
Her chin went up stubbornly. “Then if you stay behind, I will stay behind also. We will both go at the same time.”
He put his arms around her and drew her close. “I promise that you will stay behind,” he said, and was troubled that his words intentionally deceived her about what he intended to do.
Several days passed. The temperature outside dropped, and Captain Wessells came with another announcement to be read outside the barracks telling the Cheyenne that food, tobacco, and warm blankets waited for those who came out.
No one else came out.
Two Arrows watched the officer walk away, grumbling and kicking his shiny boots against the snow. All the soldiers wore their thick buffalo fur winter coats in this cold while the Cheyenne shivered and did without.
Would David Krueger never get here? His horses had arrived; Two Arrows had caught just a g
limpse of the pair being led to the stables by Muldoon. His own exhausted paint horse now belonged to some bluecoat.
Inside the barracks, the temperature had dropped until the drinking water had frozen solid and children whimpered and cried as women tried to melt the ice over dwindling supplies of wood. In spite of all the people could do to ration it, the food was finally gone, and the firewood, too, but still the people refused to come out of the barracks.
Even Muldoon went to Captain Wessells’s office to protest. “Sir, I know I’m overstepping me bounds, but those people are goin’ to start dyin’ in there. The soldiers are feelin’ mighty bad about—”
“Ja; and what would you suggest, Sergeant?” The German officer leaned back in his chair and glared at him. “Should I have a squad charge the barracks and get a bunch of people killed?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
“Well, I do know. If they have no food or fuel, they finally surrender peaceful and come out.”
“Beggin’ your pardon, sir,” Muldoon said, rubbing his aching hands together and silently cursing this cold country, “I’ve dealt with Indians much longer than you, and I think they’ll die in there before they surrender and let you ship them back.”
“Nein.” Wessells pulled at his goatee in frustration. “They will not let their women and children die that way.”
Muldoon shrugged. “They figure if they’re going to die anyway, they might as well die one place as another.”
“Thank you for your comments, Sergeant, you’re dismissed, but you may put a little more wood in the stove before you go.”
“Yes, sir.” Muldoon began putting kindling in the big iron stove near the desk.
“It is damnable cold.” The officer hitched his comfortable chair closer to the stove. “I hear Captain Krueger is due here anytime.”
Muldoon looked up from his chore. “So I hear, sir.”
“I’ve got one final card to play to bring those Cheyenne out to surrender.” The officer sipped his brandy and stared out the frost-covered window.
“I don’t know what else you can do, sir.” Muldoon glared at him. “You’ve cut off their food and fuel.”
“Pass the word not to give them any more water.”
Muldoon paused and stood up. “Sir?”
“You heard me!” the captain snapped. “No more water!”
“But sir—”
“Ach! Do you not speak the English? That is an order!”
Muldoon took a deep breath and gritted his teeth.
“Sergeant, I hope I do not have to remind you that you only lately regained your stripes. The next black mark on your record may get you drummed out of the corps!”
Muldoon swallowed hard. “Yes, sir. I’ll see to it, sir.” He saluted, managing to keep his face immobile, while his soul seethed with indignation. If David were here, maybe he could do something to stop this cruelty.
“Good. Dismissed.” The officer threw him a halfhearted salute and put his shiny boots up on the stove nearer the heat. “We see now how long damned stubborn Injuns can last without water! ”
Twenty-one
January 9, 1879
Glory had never been as thirsty as she was at this moment, watching little Grasshopper lick the frost off the inside of the windowpanes. The child did not complain, she only clutched the little china doll Muldoon had given her and licked at the frost. The children and the women were quiet and patient, waiting for whatever came next in the cold barracks as morning turned into afternoon.
It seemed to Glory that she had always been hungry and cold. She shivered uncontrollably, and Two Arrows took his own thin blanket and put it around her shoulders, held her against his warmth. “I am sorry, Proud One, for getting you into this.”
“I’m with you, that’s all that matters to me.” She snuggled up against his big chest and fingered her beaded bracelet. “What happened at Fort Reno seems so long ago.”
He kissed her forehead. “If I had let well enough alone, you’d be married to Captain Krueger now and warm and well fed.”
“Perhaps.” She smiled. “I didn’t realize what I was missing until I found it in you.”
“If something happened to me, you could return to the white way of life,” Two Arrows said. “The captain would still want to marry you.”
“Don’t ever talk like that!” she scolded. “I am your woman. Do you regret me?”
“Never! Someday, maybe you’ll realize how much I loved you.”
She didn’t like the finality of his tone. “You’ll be there to tell me. We’re going to survive this.”
“I will see that you survive,” he whispered against her hair. “I promise that.”
Somewhere in the barracks, a child whimpered, wanting water, and its mother shushed it, explaining there was none. Glory ran her tongue over her dry lips and looked outside at the snow clinging to the bare trees and the icicles hanging from the barracks roof. “That looks so good and so cold.”
“Don’t think about it,” he said. “Soon, you’ll have plenty of food, water, and warm blankets.”
“You think Captain Wessells is going to relent then?”
He didn’t look at her. “I wish every white person in America could hear these little ones crying. We’re slowly dying here, and no one knows or cares outside this fort.”
Outside, it appeared the temperature was continuing to drop. Muldoon and a squad of soldiers came to the barracks. “Captain Wessells wants to talk to Dull Knife again.”
Something about Muldoon’s expression alerted Two Arrows that something was amiss.
Old Dull Knife stood up to go, but Two Arrows grabbed his shoulder. “Do not go; I think the German officer plots to get you in his clutches and lock you in the guardhouse.”
“Yes,” seconded Tangle Hair. “He knows that without you, the people are leaderless.”
“Some of us will go,” Two Arrows announced. “Who will go with me?”
The others hesitated a long moment, knowing that someone must go, but that they might become prisoners. Just such devious plotting as this had killed their Lakota friend, Crazy Horse, at this very fort a little more than a year ago.
“We will go with you, Two Arrows,” offered Wild Hog and several of the others.
Proud One caught Two Arrows’s arm, “No, not you.”
“I must, dear one.” He turned, and the little delegation left the barracks.
Surrounded by armed guards, the spokesmen strode through the snow toward Wessells’s office. The frozen crust crunched under their moccasins, and Two Arrows licked his dry lips, thinking how good cold, wet snow would taste, but he was too proud to fall down and grab handfuls of it, stuff it into his mouth. He kept his head high, concentrating on the task at hand. The others did the same, although Two Arrows saw that they kept glancing down at the drifts they passed. Out of the side of his mouth, he whispered to Muldoon, “Is Krueger here yet?”
“Not yet; soon; maybe tonight or tomorrow.”
He had to trust someone, Proud One’s life depended on it. “He must get her out; we’ve gone as far as we can go.”
Muldoon’s red face was troubled as they walked. “Aye, I’ll do what I can to help.”
Then there was no more time to talk as they were at Captain Wessells’s office. And again, he demanded that the Cheyenne come out of the barracks and surrender. The Cheyenne simply looked at him and said nothing.
He dismissed them, and they went out onto the porch. At that moment, out of the corner of his eye, Two Arrows saw sudden movement aimed at Wild Hog and shouted.
Wild Hog turned, screaming a warning to his comrades as a soldier’s rifle blazed. Two Arrows and the others took off running, leaving Wild Hog crumpled in the snow behind them, rifles cracking like thunder as they ran. When he glanced back, he saw Muldoon diverting the soldiers’ attention and Wessells shouting at him for being so clumsy and stupid. Good old Muldoon!
It seemed a million miles through the snow back to the barracks with the soldie
rs shooting at them. The late-afternoon sun threw distorted shadows across white drifts as the warriors raced for the barracks. The Cheyenne held the door open for them and waved them on. Any second now, Two Arrows expected the agony of a bullet cutting into his flesh or perhaps one through the brain so that he would never feel himself tumbling into the bloody snow.
Like a true dog soldier, he held back now, covering the others’ retreat. Then they were inside, their breath coming in icy gasps like cold fire as they slammed and bolted the door behind them.
Proud One ran into his arms. “Are you all right?”
He could only nod and gasp for air, holding her warm body against him. “They got Wild Hog; Wessells wanted hostages, just as we thought.”
She looked up at him. “Was Muldoon—?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I think he was as surprised as anyone; he may have got himself in trouble for diverting their attention so we could make it to safety.”
Outside, the moon came up full and round as a silver ball. Two Arrows peered out the window. “It couldn’t be a worse night for us to try a breakout, it’s as bright as daylight out there.”
The men looked at each other silently.
Dull Knife sighed. “We can’t wait any longer; the people are dying of thirst. Get the guns and assemble them.”
Crow shook his head in disgust. “If only there was no moon. Against that white snow, they will see us running.”
Proud One was holding little Grasshopper, who was wrapped in the wool blanket Muldoon had given the child’s grandmother. Grasshopper clutched the small china doll. Proud One looked up at Two Arrows. “There’s no other way?”
He shook his head. “We’re out of time; it has to be tonight. We’ll wait until late, when the fort has settled down to sleep.”
She handed the sleepy little girl to her grandmother. “But there’ll be guards.”
“Yes,” he nodded. “I suspect Muldoon will try to help us, but I don’t know how.”
Cheyenne Song Page 30
