Three Feathers looked at Blue Hawk. “Do you agree to this, Blue Hawk?”
Blue Hawk stared boldly at Black Eagle. “I agree,” he said. “I am not afraid of the Sun Dance. You will know then I am Cheyenne.” He turned to Three Feathers. “I made a promise to the white man who raised me to meet him in the Moon of the Greening Grass. I must keep this promise. I will leave to meet him, but I will return in time for the summer celebration.”
Black Eagle grinned. “Already the white belly is thinking of a way to leave without looking like a coward.”
Blue Hawk jumped to his feet, slamming his lance into the ground. “I am no coward. I will leave soon, but I will return.”
“So be it,” Three Feathers said with finality. “Soon we leave for the north, following the river on which we are camped to the country where the Sioux gather. Blue Hawk will keep his promise to the white man with the good heart. Then he will come and meet us in the northern camp at the time of the Moon When the Chokecherries Ripen. If he does not come back in time for the Sun Dance, he is forever banished and can never show his face among us.” He looked up at Blue Hawk. “Do you agree to this?”
“I agree.”
“And until then,” Three Feathers continued, “you are not to pursue your feelings for the girl. Until you have proven your manhood, you are not worthy of looking upon any Cheyenne maiden.”
Blue Hawk looked at Three Feathers, wanting to defend himself more, but then thought better of it. He was being given a chance to stay, and he would take it. He walked off toward his tipi, but once he was away from the firelight, someone whispered his name. He stopped, looking around, but saw no one. Suddenly Walking Grass was beside him, and old, pleasant urgings stirred within him.
“I do not think you are a coward,” she whispered. “I would never think it. And I know you will come back, Blue Hawk.”
He turned away, wanting her but afraid of trouble. He felt better knowing that Walking Grass did not think less of him.
“I cannot be seen talking to you, or it will be my death.”
“I know. I will leave quickly. I only want to … to thank you for killing Fire Wolf. I did not want to go to him.” She quickly embraced him, a bold act for a Cheyenne maiden, then she was gone.
Blue Hawk stood there a moment, for some reason thinking about Sarah. The Cheyenne girl reminded him of Sarah, her innocence, her youth, her sweet heart. Sarah was out of his life now, and he might never see her again. But perhaps he could recapture some of the joy he had known with Sarah with this beautiful Indian maiden who was so like her. To have Walking Grass would be to have some of that happiness again. His mind and body were full of the challenge of the Sun Dance, which brought forth pride in the youth and made him a man. By mastering the Sun Dance he would win Walking Grass, and that was all important now. He hardly knew her, yet he wanted her. He had been so lonely. Perhaps marrying and having babies would take it away. To suffer the Sun Dance and marry a Cheyenne girl would mean he was truly there to stay. Surely this was the best place for him. He liked the freedom, the hunting, the warring, the warm glow of a tipi fire, the feeling of being close to the spirits. It was where he belonged.
He would go and meet Tom, but he would definitely be back. Perhaps Tom would want to return with him, to witness the Sun Dance. It would make Blue Hawk proud to make the sacrifice in front of Tom Sax and show Walking Grass to the man, show Tom how pretty she was. Yes, he would ask Tom to come back with him, away from Fort Dearborn where it was so dangerous. It gladdened his heart to think of seeing Tom again. The winter had passed more quickly than he had realized. He was nearly seventeen now, a full-grown man who had made war against the Chippewa and the Crow. Black Antelope would be proud.
When he went to his tipi, his aunt was waiting.
“Well?” she asked.
“I can stay. I will leave soon to meet with Tom Sax, but I am to return by the Moon When the Chokecherries Ripen to participate in the Sun Dance. If I do not return, I am forever banished.”
“And if you do not return, you can never hope to have Walking Grass.” Sweet Seed Woman grinned slyly. “You will return—for more than proving your manhood, my nephew.”
Blue Hawk grinned and set his lance aside. “Do not look at me that way, old woman. I want something to eat.”
Sweet Seed Woman laughed lightly, taking a piece of rabbit from a skewer and putting it on a plate made of bone. She handed it to him. “Eat up, nephew. It is a long journey to the place where you will meet this Tom Sax. You had better leave soon, so you can be sure to be back in time.”
Blue Hawk arrived at the meeting place in late May. At one time many trappers and Indians had met there to exchange furs for supplies. But the war between the British and Americans had nearly put an end to the trading because no man, Indian or white, could be trusted. But dangerous or not, Blue Hawk knew Tom would come. He only hoped it would be soon enough for him to get back to the Cheyenne to prove to them his honesty and bravery.
His heart beat with the anticipation of seeing Tom Sax again. He had missed the man. There was so much to talk about, so many things there had not been time to talk about the night he left. He wanted to know if Tom had heard from Sarah, and he was anxious to tell Tom about all his experiences with the Cheyenne, about his victory with the Crow—and about Walking Grass. He needed the man’s advice about the girl, and although he preferred to remain with the Cheyenne, he wanted to know what was happening at Fort Dearborn and with Sarah.
He scouted the area carefully, but it seemed the place was abandoned. He was again alone, but at least now he had a place to which he could return. After the Council fire, most of the Cheyenne had remained hospitable, but Fire Wolf’s family wanted nothing to do with him, and they had laughed and thrown stones at him when he left, calling him a coward who would not return. It angered Blue Hawk that they tried to make him look bad. He would have gladly challenged Fire Wolf in a legal fight, a test of skills. It had been Fire Wolf’s choice to try to kill him.
Blue Hawk rode to the edge of the Mississippi, its waters high over the banks from the spring melt. It was a pretty area, peaceful and welcoming. It seemed to him that land hardly touched by the white man was always this way. The white man always sought to control the land rather than exist in it, and Blue Hawk hoped this river was the very last boundary of American expansion.
Birds flitted and sang everywhere, and the welcome sun warmed his shoulders. Watching the river, he was deeply reminded that he was a man of two worlds; he was Cheyenne now, yet part of his past was the white man’s world. It was strange to be so much a part of both worlds, and he wondered if he would ever truly belong to either one.
He made camp, realizing it could be several days before Tom showed up. Blue Hawk chose a campsite just below a small hill along the river, a low spot that offered protection and seclusion. He spent the next four days meditating about his two worlds, experimenting with his Indian powers of concentration and using them to pray to Maheo for help and guidance at the Sun Dance. He had been told he must not cry out, something he knew would be the most difficult task of his life. He must be ready, mentally as well as physically. When Tom still did not arrive, he began running to help strengthen his legs. He swam in the icy water to test his stamina, and he practiced concentrating his mental powers in an effort to learn how to remove his thoughts from all physical feeling. The Sun Dance would be a great test and a great experience, for it was a time for visions.
After six days Blue Hawk grew concerned. Camping in one place for too long could alert enemy Indians, whose keen senses would easily pick up the scent of accumulating horse dung and the smoke of his fires. He considered moving his camp, but he couldn’t go too far or Tom might not find him. It was that same morning that he heard the familiar call he and Tom and Bo had devised while hunting and trapping, a trilling birdcall to be used in times when calling out could be dangerous. He rose from his campfire, eager and happy. He called back and ran to the top of the small hill where he saw a rider approach
ing. The man waved and came closer, and Blue Hawk’s heart fell when he saw that it was Bo Sanders. His smile faded.
“Is it you, Caleb?” Bo laughed, riding closer and dismounting. He walked up to the young man and they shook hands heartily. “Ah, you’ve grown, boy. And if I didn’t know you I’d think twice about showing myself to you at all. You’re all Indian, I see.”
Blue Hawk grinned. “It is good to see you, Bo.” He looked past the man with hope in his eyes. Bo’s smile faded.
“He couldn’t come, Caleb. It just about broke his heart, but he couldn’t make it. I promised I’d come in his place so you’d not worry and wonder.”
A quick wave of fear pierced Blue Hawk’s heart. “What is wrong?”
Bo took off his hat and scratched his head. “A week before we were set to leave Tom got his foot caught in one of his own traps. Injured him pretty bad, Caleb, and he’s still laid up. We were mighty worried about infection, but it looks like there won’t be any.” The man sighed and scratched at a several-day-old beard.
Blue Hawk looked deeply into Bo’s eyes. “He’ll be all right?”
Bo nodded. “Sure. He’ll be fine, ’cept for his disappointment in not being able to meet you.”
Blue Hawk turned around so that Bo would not see the tears in his eyes. “Come down and have some breakfast, Bo.”
The man followed, marveling at how the winter had turned Blue Hawk from boy to man.
“I have to leave camp soon,” Blue Hawk said. “I have been here too long already. Unwanted company could show up any time.” He turned and faced Bo when they reached the campfire. “I am glad that you at least came. It was dangerous for you. You are a good friend.”
Bo reached out and squeezed the young man’s shoulder. “Tom’s been my best friend for years. A man doesn’t hunt and trap with another man as long as I’ve been with Tom without lovin’ him and those he loves.” His eyes filled with sorrow. “He’s a lonely man, Caleb. He’s took to drinkin’ again. That’s how he had the accident, tryin’ to set a trap when he’d had too much whiskey.”
Blue Hawk turned to pour some strong tea into a tin cup. He wondered if he had ever been more disappointed in his life, and he felt guilty for Tom’s renewed drinking. He rose and the handed to tea to Bo.
“Am I still wanted? Is Emily Stoner still there?”
Bo nodded. “If you’re thinkin’ of goin’ back to see Tom, you’d best think twice, son. Lord knows what happened wasn’t all your fault. That girl is bad. Some have a suspicion now that you weren’t the only one she got into her bed. I have a feelin’ you were just the first one she was caught with. That’s why she put up the fuss. There’s plenty of other lonely men at that fort who’d willingly get under that one’s dress if she offered, and I think she’s offered plenty behind her pa’s back.”
“Damn! I was such a fool. I actually felt sorry for her.” His blue eyes turned to ice. “I would like to put my hands around her throat and squeeze until there is no life left in her.”
“Well that would surely get you a hangin’.”
Blue Hawk stared out at the meandering waters of the Mississippi. “I would risk going back if I could. But there is something I must do.” He turned to face Bo. “I am living with the Cheyenne. I have even found a blood relative, my aunt.”
Bo nodded. “That should make you right happy, son.”
“It does. But I made one enemy. When we warred against the Crow, he came for me, thinking he could kill me and blame it on the Crow. I fought back and killed him instead, and this brought me trouble.” He poured himself some tea, then looked at Bo. “I have to go back. Please explain to Tom. I have to go back for the Sun Dance Ritual to prove my worth. If I do not go back, I will be forever banished from them. I have no choice, Bo. My aunt is there, and I have made friends with many of them. I do not want to have to seek a home with a different tribe.” He sighed deeply. “And there is a girl. A pretty Cheyenne girl called Walking Grass. I promised her I would return.”
Bo chuckled. “That man you killed, it wouldn’t have been over the girl, would it?”
Blue Hawk smiled in return. “Maybe.”
Bo finished his tea. “Well, son, Tom will understand. He’s always had patience with the Indian side of you. You’re probably right where you’ve always belonged. You can always meet again next year, Lord willin’. Things are gettin’ messy with the British, boy. But you know you don’t have to be face-to-face with Tom to be with him. Many times you both talked about how spirits can be together, through prayer and concentration. You used to talk about how you sometimes saw your Sioux father’s face in the flames of your campfire. It can be the same with you and Tom. Tom knows how you feel about him, and he knows that if not for your promise to the Cheyenne and your need to prove your word, you’d risk your life to go see him. You simply can’t do it, just like Tom couldn’t come here because of his wound.” The man sat down on an old log beside the fire. “Come on, boy. Sit down here and tell me everything that’s happened since you’ve been out here—every little detail. Tom will want to know. He’ll be pullin’ my tail to tell him all of it when I get back, that’s for sure.”
Blue Hawk smiled sadly and sat down across from the man. “First tell me if Tom has heard from Sarah.”
Bo frowned. “Yes. A couple of times. She sounds reasonably happy, gettin’ a fine education and livin’ right well. But you know the girl’s heart. She misses you and Tom too much to be really happy. There’s nothin’ she’d want more than to see the both of you.”
Blue Hawk nodded, setting his cup aside. “Yes. But I fear I will never see her again. This land and the Cheyenne are my home now.”
Bo studied him closely. “You’re pretty young to be thinkin’ this is all there will ever be for you, Caleb. The country is growin’ fast, and the whites will move right into Cheyenne country, mark my word. Half of you is white, Caleb. All kinds of things will happen to you before you’re an old man. For all you know, you’ll settle some day in the white man’s world.”
Blue Hawk shook his head. “I do not think so.”
Bo took out a pipe. “Well, when I was your age I thought I had my life all figured out, too. But none of it went the way I thought it would. Life has a way of doin’ that.”
Blue Hawk swallowed a lump in his throat, feeling like a little boy at the moment. “Yes. It does.” How he had looked forward to seeing Tom. Why did life have to present people with such difficult choices? He should go and see Tom in spite of the danger. But if he didn’t keep his promise to the Cheyenne, he would be forever shamed. This life, this land, were the most important thing to him right now. He had to prove his right to stay.
Chapter
Eleven
EVERY summer, when the Cheyenne gathered for the buffalo hunt, several rituals took place while all the tribes were together, including courting dances and ceremonies to renew the warriors’ medicine. But the most important ritual was the Sun Dance, during which warriors and sometimes even women strove to be as close to the spirits as possible. They fasted, prayed, and sacrificed flesh in hopes of receiving visions that would guide them through life. Through the ceremony the Cheyenne also celebrated the rebirth of the earth and the return of the season of growth. The Sun Dance Ritual was considered so important that all Cheyenne attended, believing misfortune would befall anyone who failed to be present.
Blue Hawk was determined to go through with his vow to participate in the twelve-day ritual; somehow it seemed that the sacrifice would not only prove to the Cheyenne and Walking Grass that he was brave and honest, but he felt it would also vindicate his mistake of lying with Emily Stoner. He vowed he would never be that foolish again. From then on he would not only be strong and brave, but wise as well.
The days of fasting began soon after Blue Hawk returned, continuing until he and the other participants were weak from hunger and thirst. Sweet Seed Woman painted Blue Hawk’s nearly naked body with horses and flowers; custom dictated that Sun Dance participants be br
ightly painted by loved ones before undergoing their ordeal.
Several days into the ceremony, Sweet Seed Woman and Walking Grass watched proudly as Blue Hawk was led to the Sun Dance Pole in the central gathering place. The area was crowded with celebrating Cheyenne, their voices mixing with beating drums and jingling bells to create a festive atmosphere. But Blue Hawk and the others participating were hardly aware of anything around them, for they were nearly in a trance from hunger.
Blue Hawk felt himself being led to the pole, and he drew on his deepest reserves, thinking only of Black Antelope and his grandfather and uncles, whose spirits must surely be with him. He also thought of Tom, how proud the man would be if only he were here. He knew Walking Grass was watching, and his aunt, and he threw back his head and waited, anticipating the glory the celebration would bring him.
He winced but did not cry out when the skewers were shoved through slits cut into the skin of his breasts, and again through cuts on his upper back. Rawhide strips were attached to the skewers and the pole, and then his body was raised slightly off the ground. Skewers were inserted into the calves of his legs and buffalo skulls were hung on them as weights so that his skin was pulled painfully. Blue Hawk closed his eyes, calling on that power within him that removed him from physical pain.
Someone began spinning him, and he opened his eyes, aware of the bright sun and blue sky. He stared at a cloud above him, blowing hard on the bone whistle that had been put in his mouth to use when he felt like crying out. The whistle was sacred, something he would keep forever in his special medicine bag, along with his rabbit’s foot and eagle feathers. The medicine bag would be his protector, his power, as was the blue quill necklace which he never removed.
Many faces passed before his eyes, Black Antelope, his grandfather and uncles, Small Hands and Two Stars, Cora Sax—all beloved people gone from his life. But some still lived. Tom and Sarah still lived. Sarah. Why did her face suddenly come to clear to him? It was as though she were right there, calling out to him, crying. He tried to answer, but in reality he only blew the whistle again.
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