"It feels as if the grizzly's claws rip at my belly. My skin is cold and strange like a dead featherless bird. The blood walks as a turtle within me. I shake as the leaves in a strong wind. I can keep no food or water within me."
By that time, most of the Red Shield Band had seen or heard the commotion and had gathered near the group of hunters and their leader. They listened in horror to their friend's story, one told with great difficulty.
Following another spell of shivers, the weakening man continued. "The sickness the white man calls cholera came on the boat which spits smoke into the air. All who went near those who were sick were struck down by this evil. I could not save the others in our party; the medicine in our bundles did not help us. I rode like the wind to warn our people not to go near the trading post on the big river to look for us. It is too late for me; I will die soon, as the others did."
Badger sat bent over on the ground and clutched his horse's foreleg for support. "All I am is leaving me. Even the white men have no medicine to save them; many die there and their bodies are burned to slay the sickness on them and their garments. You must throw limbs on me and shoot a fire arrow at mine to do the same. It is bad to touch even a dead body whose spirit has left it, for the evil remains on it. Do not wash me, put on my finest garments, and place me on a scaffold. Do not keep my belongings or horse; all must be eaten by flames. If you do not obey, the peril which comes from the direction of the rising sun will destroy you."
Wind Dancer exchanged glances with Nahemana as those last words were spoken. "That is the same warning given to Grandfather in a recent dream which he revealed to me. Grandfather said we would be attacked by two perils, one from where the winter winds are born and one from where the sun rises. The dream told him they have the power to destroy us. One has come to be." As night closed in around them, and although he knew the answer to his question, he asked, "What must we do, Father?"
A troubled Rising Bear looked at the elderly shaman upon whose heavily furrowed face light flickered from a freshly lit torch and asked, "What did Wakantanka say we must do to battle such evils, Wise One?"
"Follow Badger's warning," Nahemana replied in a solemn tone. "Our friend and brother has seen the power of this evil and knows he cannot be saved from it. He is brave and ready for his spirit to travel the Ghost Trail. Wakantanka will seize it from the flames and guide it along its journey."
Nahemana looked skyward. "See, the moon's face is dark so she will not have to witness this sad deed. No one must go near Badger. He must walk his final steps upon Mother Earth alone. After his spirit leaves his body, his horse must be slain so Badger can ride him along the Ghost Trail. Wood must be gathered; it must be light enough to be thrown over our friend and brother from where we stand. Wind Dancer is skilled with the arrow, so he must shoot one with a flaming tip into the wood. After all is eaten by the fire, dirt and rocks must be piled atop the ashes."
"It will be as you say, Wise One," Rising Bear said before he assigned a group of men to guard Badger's safety until his spirit departed.
Mothers with babies and small children left to feed the infants and to lay the little ones upon their sleeping mats, and other women returned to their tepees with heavy hearts, but most of the men remained there for a time to give their tribesman comfort.
More torches were lit and jabbed into the ground in a large circle around the fallen warrior as the guards began their vigil against predators attacking the vulnerable man. As time passed, the night air grew chilly but the wind remained calm as if in mourning. The only sounds were those of mumbled prayers, soft chanting, nocturnal creatures and birds creeping about in the forest nearby, and the burning of the torches. All witnesses noted that Badger bore his torment in brave silence. His wife and two children observed the tragedy in a mixture of pride at his courage and sadness at his sufferings and impending loss; they wanted to tend him to ease his agony, but that was forbidden. Everyone knew the good and safety of the tribe came first. All they could do was watch, wait, and pray in shared anguish and utter helplessness.
At last, Badger lay still and quiet in a merciful stupor, yet, the vigil continued by the guards, friends, and family as death sneaked closer to him.
By the first rays of sunlight at dawn, Badger was dead. Many hunterwarriors gathered limbs and tossed them into a pile atop their fallen companion. War Eagle, the youngest son of Rising Bear, ended the horse's life with speed and mercy, requiring only two well-placed arrows to complete his task. Red Feather lit grass secured around the tip of Wind Dancer's arrow before it was shot into the heap which quickly caught flame.
As the fire burned and dark smoke rose skyward, Badger's coups were chanted by his best friends and members of the Sacred Bow Society to which he belonged. Afterward, the Sacred Bow song was led by fellow member War Eagle to honor Badger as he made his way to the Ghost Trail.
Soon, Wind Dancer thought, another great warrior-probably Swift Otter if he could pass the rigorous tests required-would take Badger's place as one of four Bow Carriers. He was proud and happy that his own brother had succeeded with those awesome tests of skills and endurance.
Before the sun loomed overhead on a warm spring day, the sad deed was completed. As was their custom, Badger's family and friends would save, make, and collect items for the ituwahan, the ritual giveaway, following the passing of one circle of the seasons. That was one experience, Wind Dancer thought, that he did not want to repeat.
It was late afternoon when a call went out through the camp for an important meeting: "U wo omniciye!"the messenger shouted in passing.
All males who were or had been hunter-warriors halted what they were doing, gathered certain items, and headed for a large clearing surrounded by verdant evergreens and slowly renewing hardwoods.
The Red Shield leaders-Naca Ominicia-sat together on either rush mats or folded buffalo hides. The members of the Big Belly Society included Rising Bear, Nahemana, Strong Rock-the brother of Rising Bear's wife-and other older men of great worth and wisdom; they were the ones who made the important decisions for their band. Although all directives were voted on by each man and it required only one to disagree and have that matter set aside, usually they followed their chief's wishes. Another group-the Wicasta Itancans-sat nearby, warriors who had been chosen by the Nacas to carry out their orders, which included selecting the Shirt Wearers from among them who were responsible for the survival of the tribe and the peace amidst it. Next were the Wakincuza, Pipe Owners, who carried pipes in beaded bags for performing a Peace Ceremony, the "Making of Brothers." Members of certain warrior societies sat together. The rest of the Oglala males-mostly younger men who had not yet joined a society and youths still in trainingtook places around the outer edge of the large circle.
As Nahemana prepared the sacred pipe to begin the smoking ritual before their talk, he told of how it was brought to them by White Buffalo Maiden. "Long ago, Pte Skawin appeared to two hunters and told them she had come with a message from the Buffalo People. She was so beautiful that one warrior quivered in hunger for her. When his ears refused to hear his companion's warning and he approached her in lust, a crash of thunder roared across the sky and a white cloud enclosed him. When the wind blew away the cloud, nothing remained of him except his bones. Pte Skawin told the second man to prepare a place for her in the center of their village. When all was ready, the people awaited her appearance on the next rising of the sun. She came and walked around a circle of buffalo skulls, each facing one of the directions of the four winds. She carried a pipe of sacred red stone from the flesh and bone of our ancestors from the Great Flood."
Wind Dancer, who sat with the Shirt Wearers, gazed at the pipe in his grandfather's gnarled hands. As with the legendary one, a red stone bear was carved atop its bowl. Twelve eagle feathers were attached to its stem to represent the sky and moons. It was secured together by grass from the Plains where the buffalo roamed and fed, the greatest necessity for their survival, since it provided food, shelter, clothing
, and tools.
"Pte Skawin told our people to use the pipe and its smoke to make peace, to make good medicine, and to send word to Wakantanka for the good of our people. She said that honoring and using the pipe would make our nation strong. She gave it to the chief to protect and respect, since through the pipe our nation survives. She also gave them the Seven Sacred Ceremonies which include Purification, Vision Seeking, Making of Brothers, Sun Dance, and Owning a Ghost. She lit the pipe and offered smoke to the Sky, Earth, and each of the Four Winds. After she left singing, she turned at a distance, looked at the people, then transformed into a white buffalo which vanished amidst a white cloud. She who is also called Whope, daughter of the Sun and Moon, had come to earth with those sacred gifts."
Nahemana stood in the center of the human enclosure and prayed: "Great Spirit, see us and hear us. We come to honor You and all You have created. We come to speak what dwells within our hearts. We come to seek Your guidance and protection. Great Mystery, see us and hear us." The elderly shaman lit the tobacco, lifted the pipe upward, lowered it toward the ground, then turned several times to face each direction to honor Father Sky, Mother Earth, and the Four Winds. He sat down and sucked upon the stem to inhale smoke deeply into his body. As he slowly exhaled, his wrinkled hand wafted the gray haze around his head to bathe it in the breath of the Great Mystery. When his part in the ritual was done, he passed the pipe to Rising Bear to draw upon it before the chief gave it to the man beside him to continue the ceremony for those of worthy ranks to partake.
After taking his turn, Wind Dancer watched the pipe pass from man to man. His gaze paused on his best friend who sat with their society, the Strong Hearts. His gaze lingered longer on his brother, War Eagle, who sat with the Sacred Bows and was one of the four Bow Carriers, as he himself had been before he was chosen as a Shirt Wearer and Strong Heart, as a Sacred Bow member-whose society goals were making successful war, and peace when possible-left that society only by death or for an honorable reason. As a Shirt Wearer, his group helped settle disputes between band members, made sure no person went hungry or unsheltered or unclothed, sought the best camping grounds during travels, planned travel paths and guarded the people during journeys, led the annual buffalo hunt, and carried out any commands of the Nacas. The Strong Hearts Society was comprised of fearless and skilled warriors who were first to confront any unforeseen peril, to help and protect those in need and alone-the old ones and families of braves who had been slain or injured or died and could no longer provide for their loved ones-and to do nothing to dishonor himself and his rank. That first goal had taken him away from camp two winters ago when a second band of Crow pulled a sneak attack on the village and claimed the lives of his wife and son while they were out gathering wood in the foothills. But he did not want to think of that great loss which still troubled his heart. Since the smoking ritual was over, he focused on his grandfather's words.
"When the men with pale skin and hairy faces came to our land many seasons past, our fathers and grandfathers smoked the Wakincuza's peace pipe with them and let them hunt on our grounds and trap along our rivers. We have done the same with those called Spanish, French, and American. We traded with them and called many friends. It was the same with most bands and tribes. We were told they would not remain in our land for many seasons, but their words were false. Many stayed and others came to take the place of those who left; with each passing season, more come and stay. Eight trading posts sit along the great river; four are only a few days' ride from our camp. They have many trade goods, but we can live without their knives, kettles, cloth, beads, axes, and such. The Great Spirit and Mother Earth provide all we need for survival. If we turn from the old ways, grow lazy and weak, we will be destroyed."
Nahemana paused as many men nodded or verbally concurred. "They build wooden tepees and places with standing trees to hide within. They cut into the face and body of Mother Earth to plant strange seeds and grow their food; they do not seek it from the land as we do. They do not believe in and respect the Great Mystery; they bring words of a God unknown to us and say He made all things. The Lakota know Wakantanka made all things. The words of peace and sharing on the white man's lips do not match his actions. We honor the spirits in the Four Winds, grasses which give life to the buffalo and other creatures, trees, Mother Earth, Father Sky, two-leggeds and four-leggeds. Wakantanka gave each creature special colors or markings to help it hide from its enemies, and a means of defense against them. Now, the white man craves their hides and pelts; those in the land of the rising sun send for more buffalo robes and tongues. The white hunters slay our brothers for them and leave their meat and bodies to rot and waste on the Plains. They bring fire-water to make our wits dull, our minds crazy, and our bodies weak. They bring strange illnesses to slay us, such as the one which took the life of Badger and others. They bring thundersticks that kill with loud and small stones, hard stones which travel a great distance. They cross our lands in wagons and use them at will in passing. Many have come on long journeys to draw the face of our lands, to learn its secrets and where our strengths lie. They have taken bones of the ancient creatures from the sacred Paha Sapa and Makosica. Others take old or pretty stones and shiny rocks which reflect the sun's golden light which the white man craves."
Wind Dancer remembered the tales his father and grandfather had told him about what happened in the Black Hills and Badlands when those strange whites collected old bones and rocks and made "maps" from twenty to two summers past. He believed the whites should not be allowed to enter those sacred regions again to steal Wakantanka's possessions.
Nahemana continued. "Soldiers follow or make permanent camps to protect the wasicun from people they call `savages' and `hostiles.' Our fathers spoke of a big thunderstick which spit forth many powerful stones in a hurry, a weapon the whites called a `howitzer.' It roared across the land and sky when treaty was made with those at Fort Pierre. Nineteen winters past, the post was destroyed when fire touched the black powder in a keg, powder the white hunters use in their thundersticks. Their weapons are powerful and evil, my people, and can destroy us.
Wind Dancer wondered if defeating such powerful weapons was part of the challenge which loomed before him and his people. If so, how could such an awesome deed be accomplished?
"Such times and events have been painted upon our tribal hide by the Story Catchers so we will never forget them. The whites crave all that was given to us by the Great Spirit. If we do not send them away while their numbers are few and their powers grow stronger than ours, all is lost. They will steal or slay the companion of the Old Woman Who Quills At The Edge Of The World. If the dog does not unravel her work each sun when she adds wood to her fire and stirs her soup, she will complete her quilling upon the sacred buffalo hide and our world will cease to exist. If we do nothing, the whites will become as another Great Flood and their evil waters will flow over us and destroy us. Already they seek to make allies with our worst enemies, the Crow; together they will be stronger than we are. We must find a way to plant the war lance between them so no truce is possible." He took a deep breath before concluding. "On the next full moon, I will go to Mato Sapa to seek a sacred vision to ask Wakantanka how and when we can defeat such enemies, for surely the time has come when the whites must be called and viewed as great perils to us."
A long distance away in the White Shields' camp, Chief Tall Elk of the Brule Lakotas said to his daughter, "Come, sit, my child. SeesThrough-Mist has words to speak to you."
Chumani could not surmise the reason why her father and their shaman had summoned her from her chores when she needed to complete them before night blanketed the land. She took a seat on a rush mat and allowed her dark gaze to shift from man to man as she awaited the answer.
"On the last full moon, an owl appeared to me in a dream," SeesThrough-Mist revealed. "The messenger from Wakantanka said I was to bring this garment and moccasins to you as a gift. I waited until Snowbird made them from the sacred white buffalo skin
which was given to me during the last cold season. The owl told me you will wear them two times in the coming seasons and both will be big medicine. They are yours, Dewdrops, so you may help the Great Spirit save our people from our enemies. They are not beaded so the enemy will not read our tribal markings upon them."
Chumani accepted the dress and moccasins, each beautiful and soft and unadorned. The lengthy fringes on the end of the sleeves and bottom of the dress tickled her arms and calves as she placed the garment in her lap with the moccasins atop it. After she thanked him and told him to tell his wife the same, she said, "I do not understand your meaning, Wise One. How will these gifts help me save our people from evil? And why was I chosen?"
"I do not know, Dewdrops. The messenger owl did not tell me, but the Great Spirit has been at work in your life for the passings of twentyfour circles of the seasons to train and prepare you for these challenges. The owl said you will take another mate and together you will ride away and do great deeds for us. I saw you standing in our camp dressed in white, but the face of the warrior beside you was kept hidden from me. Then I saw you dressed in white and standing on a high hill with a hawk upon your arm."
Chumani felt apprehension shoot through her body like swift and deadly arrows as she heard those awesome words. Why had she been chosen for that great honor? How could only two people defeat their enemies? She knew the white garment was made from a sacred white buffalo who appeared and died near their camp, but what great magic did it possess? Who was the man she must be bound to before meeting that challenge together? Would she find him desirable or repulsive? Would she bear another son to replace the one she had lost? Before she could ask more questions, a shout was heard outside the tepee, whose flap was closed to signal privacy, then a familiar voice called out to the chief.
Lakota Winds (Zebra Historical Romance) Page 3
