by Vella Munn
She spotted a couple of distant hawks; except for them, the sky was empty save for a few clouds building to the north. Empty and unbelievably beautiful. She had no words to describe the intense blue, or her gratitude because snow was leaving the hillsides. Wild flowers bloomed everywhere. She embraced the crisp morning wind and imagined how it would feel if it carried summer's heat. This should be a time of beauty and gratitude, not death.
"I have to know. Please, this killing—this dying—is wrong. I must find a way to make Ha-kar-Jim and the others understand that. What should I say? What can I do?"
Although she continued to stretch her arms upward, she saw nothing; even the hawks were gone.
"Do not desert me! Please. Tell me what I must do! Will Jed live? Please. Will Jed live?" Will my uncle, my people?
* * *
Whe-cha was roasting a small amount of meat when Luash returned to the cave. Luash tried to respond to her friend's questioning stare, but the words tangled themselves inside her. Eagle had not come to her this morning.
"My husband has a message for you," Whe-cha said as she tore off a hunk of meat and handed it to Luash. "If you want, you can go with Cho-Cho and watch from the rocks. But you are not to speak."
"Not say anything?"
"The army has had their warning." Whe-cha sounded as if she was repeating word for word what her husband had told her. "If they are so foolish as to want to walk into their death, you are not to try to stop them."
Kientpoos wanted her to simply stand there as someone aimed a rifle at Jed? He thought she could stand the agony of wondering whether the army men would be the first to fire, whether her uncle would feel a deadly bullet? But what else could she do? Staying here, knowing nothing, was even worse.
When she saw Kientpoos and the others walk away from the stronghold, she hurried after them, careful to keep a respectful distance behind. Her uncle said little to those around him. She prayed he would change his mind; at the same time, she hoped he wouldn't, because if he did, the Modocs would be without a leader.
There were no whites at the peace tent, but surely they would arrive soon. Looking at the hills between the tent and the army camp, she had no doubt that soldiers were concealed there. Although the hills were a considerable distance from the tent, it wouldn't take long for any hidden army men to reach the tent. The thought that this might be a trap shot through her. When she saw the others scan the horizon, she knew they were thinking the same thing. Had Jed and General Canby warned everyone? If they had, then she had indeed betrayed her people.
At Cho-Cho's orders, she joined him behind a clump of manzanita on a slight rise overlooking where eight braves waited for the general's party. Cho-Cho explained that he had promised Kientpoos that he would make sure no one tried to kill Kaitchkana or her miner husband. Luash was not to leave his side. When Slolux started two sagebrush fires, she knew he was deliberately using the dark smoke to obscure the view of anyone who might be spying on the peace-talking place. The braves seated themselves on the opposite side of the tent from the bluffs the army men commanded.
"Why are you here?" Cho-Cho whispered. "Even Eagle cannot prevent men who hate each other from fighting."
Her mind full of what might happen today and her helplessness in the face of that made it all but impossible for her to answer. "I am a woman. It is not a woman's way to seek war. I may yet find a way to stop the killing."
"If a soldier pointed his rifle at Kientpoos, would you sacrifice yourself to save him?"
"I—I do not know."
"You love him with a love as strong as any I have ever seen. Your heart must know how you weigh your life against his."
Why was Cho-Cho doing this to her? "If—" In the distance, she spotted several mounted men heading toward the peace tent. "If I believed I could stop any more killing that way, I would, but to simply die—"
"And what if someone else's life was threatened? The life of the army man?"
"I do not know; do not ask me that."
Cho-Cho ran a finger over the scar on his cheek. "You cannot change what will be today; even Eagle's woman cannot stop a bullet."
The soldiers were now close enough that she could make out the general in his dark uniform. Next to him rode the Sunday doctor, Meacham who had once been the Indian superintendent and now was the head of the peace commission, another man she didn't recognize, Kaitchkana, and her husband. And Jed.
The army men slowed. From what Kientpoos had told her, she knew that Modocs and whites alike came to the peace talks unarmed. However, both Bogus Charley and Boston Charley, or so the whites called them, openly carried rifles. Her uncle and the others wore coats. Under them, they'd hidden pistols. Young Slolux and Bamcho stood to one side holding the horses, their mouths hanging open.
Fear washed through her like waves tossed up by a storm, and it was all she could do not to turn and flee. Still, she felt rooted to where she crouched, horrified and fascinated at the same time. Jed's uniform looked as clean and well cared for as the general's, and the way he sat his saddle swelled her heart with pride. His gaze was fixed on the Modocs waiting for him, yet she sensed he was very much aware of his surroundings. A couple of times the general said something to him; his answers were short and he spoke without looking at the other man.
When they were finally close enough to dismount, she noticed that Kaitchkana seemed so nervous she could hardly stand. Whether someone had told the Modoc woman of what might happen today or not Luash couldn't guess. What she did believe was that she should be standing with her, not hiding.
General Canby stepped toward Kientpoos and shook the chief's hand. When he did, Kientpoos smiled and said something, but she was too far away to hear. When the general pointed at Bogus and Boston, Kientpoos's smile faded. It seemed to her as if everyone stood looking at each other for a long time, but finally the general sat on a rock near Kientpoos. After a few seconds, Meacham took position behind General Canby. Jed sat beside his general. Now he was the only white man not still looking around him, and she wondered if he'd resigned himself to accept whatever might happen today.
Because she couldn't hear the conversation and much of her vision was obscured by the brush between her and those below, she could only guess at what was being said. If she'd been alone, she would have risked crawling closer. The sun, when the clouds moved away from it, felt hot on the back of her neck, and insects buzzed as if nothing of any importance was happening. Only she knew better, and that knowledge made her half sick with fear.
How long the men spoke to each other, she couldn't say. Her body felt tense from the effort of trying to listen and observe and her right leg, which was curled under her, had started to cramp. No matter how hard she fought it, fear continued to assault her; her mind raced. What could she do to stop any further killing? She'd been unable to change either Jed's or Kientpoos's minds earlier. Why would they listen to her today? She tried to imagine Eagle flying overhead, touching everyone with peace. But every time she called forth his image, it soon faded.
A movement caught her attention, and she leaned forward, straining to see. Ha-kar-Jim had walked over to Meacham's horse. After making sure it was securely tied to a sagebrush, he took Meacham's coat off the saddle and slid his arms into it. She couldn't hear what he was saying, just knew he was speaking to Meacham and that Meacham's answer made Ha-kar-Jim laugh. A few seconds later, Meacham took off his hat and held it out to Ha-kar-Jim. The Modoc laughed. When Meacham looked over at the general, she guessed Meacham wanted the general to say something to Ha-kar-Jim. Instead, General Canby turned his full attention on Kientpoos, who looked as if he hadn't seen what Ha-kar-Jim had done.
After a minute, General Canby began talking. When he was done, the Sunday Doctor got to his feet and said something to Kientpoos. Kaitchkana had started to translate when Kientpoos jumped to his feet and hurried toward some rocks, whistling sharply.
Almost immediately, two Modocs, armed with several rifles, jumped out from behind the rocks. The g
eneral yelled; Kientpoos pulled a pistol from under his shirt and aimed it at Canby.
Horrified, she heard a sharp crack, watched the general stagger backward. For a moment, she thought he was already dead; then he lurched to his feet and stumbled toward his horse. When he tripped, another Modoc ran up behind him and shot him again. Kientpoos stood over the fallen general, a knife now in his hand. When she saw him slash Canby's throat, she screamed. She felt Cho-Cho's powerful hands on her arms, fought him, screamed again.
Boston Charley shot the Sunday Doctor full in the chest. Meacham staggered backward, fumbling for something inside his coat. Several Modocs began firing at him, but she didn't know if any of them hit him. All that mattered was Jed.
He held a pistol firmly in his hand, but whether he'd used it or not she couldn't say, because so many guns were being fired. He ran, not toward the army camp, but toward his general. Using his shoulder, he plowed into Kientpoos and knocked him away from Canby. Kientpoos fell to his knees and grabbed Jed's arm, but Jed managed to yank free. Sano'tks ran up behind Jed, a rifle aimed at his back.
She felt Cho-Cho's nails tear into her flesh, but it didn't matter. Somehow she had to save Jed! She tried to rush forward.
Guns seemed to be firing all around her. Men screamed; horses fought their tethers. Jed whirled on his attacker and knocked the rifle out of Sano'tks's hands, then snatched it off the ground and swung it around, hitting the brave. Sano'tks crumpled and Jed stepped over him, sprinting for his horse. Just as she scrambled over the rocks, Jed pitched forward. She wasn't sure whether she screamed again.
"The soldiers are coming! The soldiers are coming!"
Recognizing Kaitchkana's high-pitched scream, Luash froze in an agony of indecision. If the army was advancing, they would surely kill her. But how could she leave Jed?
"Come!" Cho-Cho ordered. He pulled her against him and lifted her off her feet. "You cannot help him."
Cannot help him.
Although she continue to struggle, her attention felt too splintered to allow her to concentrate on the act of breaking free. Below, everything was chaos. Kaitchkana, her features distorted by horror, continued to shout that the soldiers were on their way. Two Modocs were crouched over Meacham; one of them had been scalping the motionless peace officer but he now stared at Kaitchkana. The white man Luash hadn't recognized was nearly out of sight, still running, as was Kaitchkana's husband. Several Modocs had been tearing the clothes off General Canby and the Sunday Doctor, but they too had gone still at Kaitchkana's warning. Jed, motionless, face flat against the ground, hadn't been touched.
A yell from Kientpoos flung everyone into action. As one, they began running toward the stronghold, leaving behind bloody bodies, frantic horses, and discarded weapons. Kientpoos scrambled up the hill, staring first at his niece and then Cho-Cho. His eyes looked wild. His words came in loud bursts, sounds she'd never before heard from him. When Cho-Cho released her and began running after the others, she took a staggering step toward Jed.
"No!" Kientpoos shrieked. "The soldiers come! They will kill you!"
"You killed him!" The words felt as if they'd been torn from her throat. She wanted to pound her uncle's face until nothing was left of it. "You killed him!"
"I am a dead man; what does it matter? No!" he ordered again when she started down the hill. "You cannot help a dead man. Think of yourself; think Modoc!"
Modoc! She whirled away from him, her feet seeking level ground. She thought she heard Jed groan, but with so much noise, she couldn't be sure. Before she could get close enough to touch him, someone grabbed her and threw her to the ground. Her head hit stone with such force that the world blurred. Still, she struggled to sit up. Someone loomed over her; recognizing Ha-kar-Jim, she kicked ineffectively at his legs. He leaned down and she readied herself for a blow. When it came, pain splintered her thoughts. A moment later, she felt hands pulling her to her feet. Although she tried to fight free, she could barely think why she was fighting.
"Luash! Stop!" Kientpoos yelled. "You are Modoc! Only Modoc!"
Chapter 14
A sharp cry yanked Jed away from the nowhere place he'd been. With an effort, he turned his head toward the sound and blinked until the blur sorted itself into human figures.
Meacham, wide-eyed, lay motionless beside him on another cot. The man's head was heavily bandaged because—damnation!—the Modocs had started to scalp him. For a moment, Jed couldn't remember what had stopped their attackers from finishing the job, but when Meacham groaned again, his memory became sharper. Someone—he thought it had been the female Modoc interpreter—had cried out that the soldiers were coming, and after a few moments of confusion, the Indians had all taken off.
But helping hands hadn't come for a long time. Not until the nightmares—
"So you're awake. I don't know how you figure you're going to get paid this month, sleeping it half away the way you've done."
Jed didn't have to look at the speaker to know it was Wilfred. His friend. "Do you have bellow like that?" he asked around swamping emotion, not surprised at the effort it took to speak. "You'd wake the dead."
"Whatever it takes. You all right? Really all right?" Wilfred pressed a cool rag to Jed's forehead, the gesture hauntingly gentle. "I hope you don't remember the trip back to camp. The way they strapped you to that horse, I figured you'd either die from being shaken up or weren't hurt bad enough to merit all this attention."
Yeah, he did remember the pain-filled ride; more and more of it with each passing second. "They didn't get you," he said to the peace commissioner because if he didn't speak, he might drown in the past. "Everything happened so fast. What... what about the general?"
"He's dead, Jed," Wilfred answered. "Him and the reverend."
"Dead? Dead." He felt exhausted, still caught in a nightmare. His side burned and he had to work at breathing in a way that didn't make his lungs protest. No matter how hard he tried to concentrate, some aspects of what had happened at the peace tent remained a blur. He remembered hearing shooting and looking around, not for a way out, but for Luash.
Had she been there?
"You're not fading on me again, are you?" Wilfred asked harshly. "You've been doing that ever since they brought you in yesterday; I'd think you'd have had enough sleep by now."
"Yesterday?" He swallowed and tried again. "It's been that long?"
"Long enough for those blasted reporters to get the news out. As soon as that hits the newspapers, there's going to be hell to pay. Damn! Damn."
Despite his still slow-moving brain, he knew what Wilfred was talking about. The Modocs had killed a general. A general! Now no one would be satisfied until every Modoc in the lava beds was either dead or hauled off to a reservation halfway across the country.
Dead or a reservation. Was that Luash's future?
What the hell did it matter? Her people had tried to kill him! Had murdered an unarmed general. War. This was war! "What's been happening?" he managed to ask despite the growing weight inside him.
"Nothing. Not a damn thing."
"You can't mean that." He tried to sit up, but someone rammed a red-hot poker into his side and he fell back, panting.
"Will you act like a patient?" Wilfred insisted. "The doctor took a bullet out of your side last night. It bled pretty good, but since it isn't anymore, I guess you're going to live."
Jed already knew that. A man doesn't survive a massacre without learning something about his body. He might be frustratingly weak and a little light-headed, but he was going to make it. He wasn't sure about Meacham. The peace commissioner was horribly pale, and in addition to the bandages covering the aborted scalping, another had been clamped over his ear. Wilfred explained that the peace commissioner had lost part of an ear and had been knocked out. "They said you weren't moving when they found you." Wilfred jabbed a finger at Jed. "A torn up side doesn't make a man pass out."
"I couldn't run; I wanted them to think I was dead. I was buying time. Trying to, anyway." A
thought struck him. If Luash had been hiding nearby and seen his motionless body, did she think he'd been killed?
Why should he care? Damnit, her people had signed their own death warrant.
She had tried to warn him.
"Hey," Wilfred insisted, cutting into his splintered thoughts. "No more sleeping. I'm getting tired of talking to myself."
Jed wasn't sure sleeping was what he'd been doing, but it didn't matter. What did was making sure he didn't go back into that dark and deadly place where he'd already spent too many hours.
"Tell me," he ordered, determined to keep his mind clear. "How come nothing's happening? You mean no one's gone after the Modocs?"
Wilfred explained, none too charitably, that Colonel Gillem had been sick yesterday—at least he'd said he was—but that was no excuse for his inability to make a decision. During the attack no soldiers had been coming to rescue the peace commission; the woman had lied while desperately attempting to stop a total massacre.
What had really happened was that Gillem hadn't sent anyone to see what was going on until Captain James Biddle insisted. They'd found Jed and the others; the Modocs were gone. The bodies of General Canby and Reverend Eleasar Thomas had been brought back to camp and were now resting in hastily built coffins. Despite a cry for action, Gillem was insisting on waiting until reinforcements arrived, in the form of Warm Springs Indians, before making an assault on the stronghold.
"But it's going to happen," Wilfred concluded, his mouth pulled into a tight slash. "No one's talking peace anymore. Folks want to see Captain Jack's body. His and the rest of those murdering Modocs. Nothing else is going to satisfy them."
"No. It isn't."
"It's more than that, Jed. General Sherman just sent a cable saying they should be annihilated."
"Annihilated? There's women and children in there."
"And so far they and their menfolks have made laughingstocks out of the U.S. Army. You, more than anyone except maybe Meacham here, should want them to pay for what they did."
