Rain Woman patted her hand. “You will learn, my child. It takes time.”
Her cackling laugh briefly drew the attention of some of the warriors. Unfazed by the stares, the old woman massaged the small of her back and turned her back to the men. “I have tired of standing so long. I leave you to go rest my weary bones. We will learn soon enough the reason for this visit.”
She hobbled toward her lodge.
Chapter Twenty
The war party rode out of camp, leaving behind a wake of swirling dust. As it settled, Fawn saw Little Elk speaking with Lone Eagle. From their grim looks, she knew something was terribly wrong.
Her heart thudding, Fawn turned to her friend. “What do you suppose happened?”
“I do not know. Being married to the chief holds no privilege for me. Lone Eagle may share what was discussed, or perhaps he will speak only with the tribal council. One never knows.”
“I hate not knowing what is going on. It’s scary.”
Green Eyes put her arm around Fawn. “Come, let us go sit and wait. We can work more on the blankets for your child.”
* * * *
Little Elk came inside, his lips tight and his jaw tense. Green Eyes took her cue from his demeanor and stood. “I will leave you to talk privately.”
She hustled through the door.
Fawn put aside the rabbit pelt and scraping knife and peered up at her husband. “What is happening?”
He ignored her question and walked to his weapons and picked up the parfleche containing arrowheads. Taking one from inside, he gazed at her and sighed. “I fear we cannot hide from war any longer. I must make more arrows. Lone Eagle called the tribal council together to talk of joining with others to fight the blue coats.”
Her heart hitched. “Oh, Little Elk, I’m afraid. I have already lost one family, and I can’t lose you, too.”
“Do not mourn me yet. The Lakota are strong, and when we join with others, we can build a mighty army of our own. We will take back the Paha Sapa, the Black Hills.”
“Has something else happened?” Anxiety bubbled in her voice.
“The war party brought news of the bluecoat leader called Long Hair. A great many whites have gone with him into our sacred hills and set up camp. There they search for the yellow stones they call gold.”
“But looking for gold is nothing new.” She struggled for something positive to say. “Surely, mining can do no harm as long as the miners do not bother us. My papa—”
Little Elk’s eyes beaded. “A few at first caused no problem, but now they cover the land like the buffalo did… and more come every day. The white leaders lied to us! They do not honor the treaty and want to take our land. We must protect what is ours! The wasichu will not be happy until all Indians live only on reservations where there are no buffalo or deer. We will surely starve.” He touched her arm. “Do you not see we must fight for what belongs to us?”
Fawn hung her head. “I suppose, but I don’t have to welcome it.”
* * * *
“The council has decided that our attempt to keep peace is futile. We will join with warriors from the other tribes and make war against the blue coats.” Little Elk stood in the doorway and shared the news that had already spread through camp. Fear’s fist closed around her heart again.
He walked past the fire pit and sat across from her, next to the stack of arrows already finished. Laying his bow across his lap, he strung new sinew from end to end and then struggled to tighten the thin line. Intent on the task, he paid her no mind.
“How many others will go?” She broke the silence.
“Only the elders will stay behind with the women and children.”
This couldn’t be happening. Tears stung her eyes and blurred his image. “When will you leave?”
His head lowered, he continued to work. “Within four risings of the sun. We must prepare for a long battle.”
“Are you afraid?”
He jerked upright. “I fear living under the white man’s law more than I fear death.”
A healthy kick rippled her belly, and she moved her hand to cover the spot. “I fear for your child. What will happen to this baby if you die?”
“Do not think of death. Think victory. We will drive them from our lands and once again be free.”
She bit her lip and fought not to cry. “I-I’ll try. But please, please come back to us. Don’t leave me alone.”
He put down his bow and crawled to where she sat. Kneeling next to her, he pulled her into an embrace. “My heart is filled with love for you, my Dancing Fawn. Do not worry. As I have already told you, I am not yet ready to walk the spirit trail.”
* * * *
In preparation for battle, the men sought purification of mind and body in the sweat lodge. Little Elk had gone to join the others. A warrior needed to be free of all negative thoughts and visions, and the purer the mind, the closer one walked with Wakan Takan. As a woman, Fawn hadn’t witnessed the rite of Inipi but had heard about it from Rain Woman. The village Shaman handled all rituals to which only the braves were privy.
The lodge, low and domed, had been constructed of twelve to sixteen young willows covered with buffalo hides. One by one, the Shaman carried in rocks heated in an outside fire pit. With the hot stones inside, he sealed the flap, and while the occupants prayed and sang, he drizzled water over the glowing stones to create a hot, misty fog through which the warriors communed with the spirits while the steam purified their bodies and souls.
Fawn didn’t understand any of the ritual but agreed with anything that would bring Little Elk back safely.
After coming out of the sweat lodge, Little Elk joined the others and painted his face and body then decorated his horse to record his personal successes in previous battles. He presented quite a vision with the blue and yellow lightning bolts on his cheeks. The red handprints on the flank of his mount sent a shiver through her. Counting coup increased the likelihood of death or injury. Silently she prayed he didn’t get that close to an enemy.
* * * *
A veil of orange sunlight crept over the horizon as the warriors and their horses gathered in the center of the village. Fawn, shivering in the morning chill, stood next to Little Elk and held the war lance he so carefully decorated with feathers and horsehair. She hugged herself to keep warm, while she wrestled with the terror filling her heart.
She wanted to embrace him but restrained herself and watched him heave his muscular leg over the back of his horse and pull himself astride. He reached to take his weapon from her then sat tall and proud atop his painted mount. With his face and chest adorned with bright yellow lightning bolts, he looked intimidating.
She inched closer, rested a hand on his buckskin legging and gazed up at him. Tears stung her eyes. “Please, Little Elk, be safe.”
He peered down at her and smiled. “Do not fear. Remember, there is strength in numbers, and we will be many.”
Her heart thudded beneath her dress. She wanted to cling to his leg and beg him to stay but backed away. “Just come back to me…us.”
He nodded and turned his mount to join the rest of the war party.
Green Eyes crossed to where Fawn stood and put an arm around her. “You must keep positive thoughts, Fawn. They will return to us unharmed.”
She pulled her gaze from her husband. “Just as I told Little Elk, I’ll try.” A lump choked off anything else she thought to say. She turned her head and watched until the mounted group was only a speck against the prairie background.
Chapter Twenty-One
In Green Eyes’ lodge, Fawn stood over the fire ring and rubbed her chilled hands over the crackling flames. Her mind wandered to fearful thoughts, but she squared her shoulders and found strength in her husband’s courageous parting words.
“You look so frigh
tened.” Green Eyes remarked. “Almost like the day you were dragged into camp behind Black Crow’s horse. I wish I could say something to ease your mind.”
Fawn shook her head. “There’s nothing you can say. I’m a worrier by nature. Mama always told me, ‘Grace, worrying is like sitting in a rocking chair. It gives you something to do, but you don’t get anywhere.’ Golly, it seems strange to say my name. I haven’t been called anything but Fawn in quite a while.”
“Well, Grace, you should have listened. She was right. Fretting won’t change anything. The Lakota believe that power comes from positive and pure thoughts. That is why the sweat ceremony is so important to our braves.”
Fawn forced a chuckle. “Well maybe I should pay a visit to one. All the images in my mind are negative.”
* * * *
Fawn yawned and reached around to massage her aching back. “Green Eyes, we have worked on these baby clothes and blankets for hours. I’m tired.”
“Yes, we have, but did you notice? You haven’t said anything negative because your mind has been busy.”
“I get it. Keep busy, don’t worry... But I’m so tired I don’t know if I can make it across the village.”
“Then stay here,” Green Eyes offered.
“Are you sure? I would like that. I don’t welcome the idea of going home to an empty lodge. I’m sure I couldn’t sleep for worrying about Little Elk and the others no matter how tired I am.”
Green Eyes spread a new bed of buffalo robes adjacent to her own. “It is settled then. Your bed is ready when you are. Little Cloud is sleeping at his grandmother’s tonight.”
Fawn folded the blanket on which she worked, laid it aside, and stood. She arched into a stretch. “Believe me, I’m ready right now. My back is killing me.” She touched her stomach. “And this little one is probably tired of me squashing him.”
“What happened to the daughter you were so sure you would have?” Green Eyes asked with a chuckle.
“I gave up. Little Elk is so certain it will be a son.”
Covering a yawn, Green Eyes put her hand over her mouth. “Ohhh, a good night’s sleep sounds good to me, too.”
Both women stretched out on their sleeping mats. Shadows from the fire danced on the tepee walls, and Fawn’s eyes grew heavy watching them grow smaller as the flames diminished. A child crying somewhere in the distance shattered the stillness and triggered Fawn’s maternal instincts. She caressed her growing child and tried to imagine what motherhood would be like. What type of personality would the little one have? Would her baby truly be a son, and would he look like his father, or would she give birth to a girl–a little version of herself? Again a negative thought crept in to spoil the good ones. What if her child never got to know his or her father?
She raised her head slightly and glanced at her friend’s back. “Green Eyes, are you asleep?”
“No, not yet.”
“Do you ever worry about Lone Eagle?”
Green Eyes rolled over and faced her. The last reflections of the fire danced in her emerald irises. “Of course I worry. No matter how positive I tell you to be, that does not mean I always follow my own advice. I do not think I will ever be as stoic as my husband.”
“I’m frightened,” Fawn confessed.
“I know you are. I am, too. I do not know what I would do without Lone Eagle. I try not to think about it, but this is the first time that I have been this close to war. It scares me.”
“I’m glad I’m not alone.” Fawn snuggled down under her blanket and stifled a yawn. “Then...ahhh...I guess we’ll just have to be support for one another. You help me not to worry, and I’ll help you. Good night...and thank you for being such a good friend.”
“Good night, Fawn. Sleep well.”
* * * *
Fawn woke to complete darkness. It didn’t feel like she had slept very long, but the fire had burned itself out. What woke her? Her vision slowly adjusted to the cloak of blackness, and soon the veiled moonlight filtering through the smoke opening illuminated the interior enough for her to remember she was in Green Eyes’ lodge.
Fawn sat up and strained to hear anything unusual but heard nothing except the soft snoring of her friend. Something didn’t seem right. Maybe she was just being overly anxious. She chastised herself for being such a worrier. Most likely, the baby’s movement had woken her. She stretched out again, curled on her side and pulled her blanket close.
Somewhere in the night, a coyote howled, and within a few moments another answered. Fawn shivered. She wished Little Elk lay next to her; he always made her feel safe when he was near. She tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position but found it difficult to ignore the bristling hair on the nape of her neck. What niggled at her?
Her eyelids grew heavy, but just as she started to doze, tremors shook the ground beneath her. The vibration grew stronger.
She bolted upright. “Green Eyes, wake up. Listen. What is that? Could it be horses–the horses of our people returning?”
Green Eyes rolled over, propped herself up on her elbows, then leapt to her feet. “It is far too early for them to return. Quick! Get up! It may be trouble!”
Fawn’s heart thudded. “What kind of trouble?”
“I don’t know. Surely our sentry would have signaled the camp, but we must be sure.”
Green Eyes wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and pushed aside the lodge flap to peer out into the darkness. The vibrations grew stronger and turned to thunder as an army of mounted men rode into the village. With fear etched across her face, Green Eyes turned to Fawn. “We must hide. It is the blue coats.”
“Oh my God! Where will we go?” Fawn still sat, her body trembling.
Green Eyes glanced around the lodge. “Lone Eagle took all the weapons. I have only my skinning knife.” She bent to retrieve it and tucked it into her moccasin, then moved to the opposite side of the lodge. She lifted the bottom of the tepee. “Come, crawl through here and run for the trees. We can hide there.”
The once quiet night now reverberated with men yelling and screams of terror.
* * * *
In the darkness, Fawn huddled with Green Eyes in a stand of aspen saplings and listened to the chaos in the camp. Hidden by only wispy clouds, the moon silhouetted veiled figures through swirling dust. Gunfire erupted, and women screamed. Panic-filled voices sounded in all directions as the tribal members scattered for safety.
“These are our own people. They’re killing our friends, and we can do nothing.” Fawn’s voice cracked with emotion, and she reached up to wipe tears from her eyes.
Green Eyes hugged her. “Shhh! We must be quiet.”
Fawn stiffened. Her panic came in a whisper. “They’re getting closer. What do we do?”
“Sit still, and don’t draw attention to our location.”
“Hey, Zeke, if you find yerself a good lookin’ squaw, give me a chance at her.” Fawn held her breath as a voice, too close, called out.
“I just squashed one of their little nits. That’ll be one less Injun givin’ us trouble.”
Green Eyes gasped. Fear shone in her wide eyes. “It cannot be my son,” she muttered. “His grandmother will see to his safety. I trust her.”
Fawn covered her mouth to stifle a sob. Her friend showed such courage, especially when there had been no time to check on Little Cloud. Fawn’s mind reeled. People of her color killed a child. How could they be so vicious and cruel?
The voices trailed off. Green Eyes grabbed Fawn’s wrist. “We must try to get back to my lodge,” she whispered. “They’re searching in the grass and trees. Hopefully they have already been through my home, and we will be safer there.”
She rose, craned her neck, and checked the area. “Quickly but quietly, run! Stay low and hurry back to where we crawled out.”
Fawn followed behind, crouching low and holding her stomach as she ran. Breathless, she ducked under the lodge covering and let it drop back into place.
For a moment, there were no screams or yells. Only their heavy breathing sliced through the eerie silence. “What are we going to do?” Breathless, Fawn found her voice.
Green Eyes scooped up all the bedding and heaped it in a pile. “You hide here and pray they leave soon. I will use the darkness to my advantage and make my way to Singing Sparrow’s lodge. Little Cloud is with his grandmother, and I have to make sure they are all right.”
* * * *
Fawn’s whole body ached from holding herself so tense. She hunkered behind the robes and listened to the commotion outside. Flaming torches lit the skies and cast shadows of the marauders on the lodge walls. Booming voices of the soldiers filled the air. They were everywhere—some near, some far. Occasionally, a scream of fear or a cry for mercy penetrated the night. When she heard someone coming closer, Fawn held her breath. Oh God!
A thin ribbon of light outlined the break between the lodge covering and the door flap. Outside, the glow grew lighter as whoever carried the flame neared. Fawn peeked around the blankets at the figure silhouetted on the door. Suddenly, the interior blazed with light as an arm stuck a torch inside. Fawn held her breath and squeezed her eyes closed.
“Over here, Cap’n. I found one of ‘em.” The voice rang out right above her.
Her heart froze.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Fawn’s eyes flew open in terror. She gazed up at the burly soldier holding a torch directly overhead. Her body trembled.
A second man ducked through the door. “Whatta ya got here?”
Passing the flame closer, the more ragged one leaned in to glare at her. His scraggly beard and tobacco-stained teeth were clearly visible in the light, and his uniform buttons strained against his girth. He reached up and scratched his dirty hair. “Criminy, Captain, this un’s white.”
The captain stepped closer. His appearance was one of authority. His uniform, although soiled with dust, fit him well, and his pants still maintained a razor-sharp crease. Clean-shaven, with blond hair, he was a good-looking man. “Well, I’ll be damned, Riley. I think you’re right. She may be dressed like an Indian, but her hair color gives her away.
White Heart, Lakota Spirit Page 13
