by J. R. WRIGHT
Taloma stepped forward to steady the old chief as Spotted Horse and Chaska mounted their ponies and led the group thundering across the plain, toward the north.
Taloma thought it irresponsible of Brave Fox to allow Chaska to go along with the war party and told him so. Now that he was gone, she dreadfully feared for his safety.
“He is just a boy,” she scolded.
“He must become a man, before I can die. I have already told the others he should follow me as chief and be an equal to Spotted Horse, when that time comes.”
“He is different… He is not like them,” she persisted.
“That is what will make him strong. Because of it, he will have to become wise and mighty to gain a following.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
“Then he will fail,” were the old chief’s final words before brushing away Taloma’s supportive hand and feebly shuffling off toward his lodge.
CHAPTER TWO
In the early morning, advance scouts brought word back to the war party that the Ojibwa village was situated in the valley of a small lake, just over a ridge of low hills not far ahead. “Buffalo Lodge,” one of them called the place. He knew it well because he, along with a hunting party, had ventured there during a dry summer and found many buffalo reluctant to roam far from the body of water. They returned many times and took much meat that year.
“What will we find to cover us, as we move upon them?” Spotted Horse was quick to ask.
“There are two streams,” the scout held up two fingers to form a V. “Fingers are the streams with much foliage about them. The lake is at the point where the two streams flow into it. The village is between the creeks. The open end of the V is the ridge ahead of us.”
Spotted Horse now knew what must be done and explained his strategy to Chaska. Chaska then agreed to relay the plan to the Dakotah war chiefs. However, when he did, the Dakotah were unhappy with the role they were to play in this important battle.
“Much glory will be had by those who charge the village. Lakhota have taken that honor for their warriors, while we are left at the creeks to club old women who run away,” one of the Dakotah chiefs argued.
“It is not for me to tell you to club old women,” Chaska said, “if that is a distasteful thing for you to do. I prefer not to club old women myself, but know it is an important part of the battle. It must be done with skill. If any get through, they may bring help from other nearby tribes. Or tell the Cree to the north, who hate us as well. We don’t need the Cree dogging our trail all the way to the new place. Seeing it, they may want it for themselves. Then we will be forced back to this land where the winter winds howl and the white man crowds us farther and farther on the barren plains towards the setting sun.
“But, if it is the battle you have your hearts set on, then I will speak with Spotted Horse to see if the Lakhota may be better suited to handle the important creeks. Since they are most crucial to the success of this battle?”
“Dakotah better suited! Dakotah will take the creeks! We go now.” He and the other Dakotah chiefs then marched proudly toward their waiting warriors, honored they had been chosen for this significant role.
While the Dakota split off, divided their warriors, and headed up the creek beds, Spotted Horse and Chaska informed the Lakhota warriors of the plan. Then, at the break of day, Spotted Horse rode to the crest of the hill overlooking the sleeping village, where just a few women stirred about stoking cooking fires, and gave the signal for the mounted warriors to charge.
With only the thunder of hoofbeats among their tepees for a warning, the Ojibwa were near completely caught off guard. Most were bludgeoned as they exited their lodges, without so much as a lance in hand, let alone one of the many rifles the tribe possessed.
After twenty minutes the only remaining action was at the creeks, where the Dakotah warriors put a finish to those few who managed to escape the original siege. As it were, this tribe of Ojibwa Indians was no more. By full light not even a whimper or a baby’s cry could be heard anywhere in the village. No one was to be spared, and none were – except for one. And that came as a surprise.
Chaska found her while plundering one of the lodges. She was hiding under a buffalo robe and shockingly leaped for him when he pulled it aside. He knocked her out cold with his fist before really seeing her in the darkness of the tepee.
He drew his knife to cut her throat, but found that he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He had taken part in the ambush and had killed many, but this was different. This was a defenseless young maiden of about his age, and very beautiful, he noticed, as she lay in the faint light. What possible role could this one, as small as she was, have played in the raid on his people’s camp, he reasoned?
Almost immediately a plan to save the maiden began to form in his mind. He knew that by doing so he would be disobeying the explicit order of his father, his chief, but in his heart there were no other options. He was gripped beyond reason by some emotion his mind refused to comprehend. There was a force here greater than any he had yet experienced in his short life, leaving him compelled to act irrationally.
His plan was to carry her to the edge of the Ojibwa village and tie her with the captives from his village while the others were busying themselves with the plundering. He was hoping that the Dakotah warriors would believe she was of the Lakhota tribe, while the Lakhota thought her a Dakotah maiden. That is, until she was safely back to his village, and he could explain his dilemma to Taloma, who would surely find a way to convince Brave Fox she should be spared.
His hopes, however, were not to be fulfilled. First he was caught dragging her from the lodge and was jumped by a Dakotah warrior. They scrabbled until Chaska eventually succeeded in chasing him away. Then, when he reached the tied captives, he found the angry women there like hungry wolves, ready to tear the Ojibwa maiden apart if they could only free themselves.
Now he was left with two choices: cut her throat on the spot, or try to make it to his pony, then ride back to camp with her ahead of the others. Chaska chose the latter. He figured they would plunder most of the day, then rest before returning. This would give him a full day and night head start. Enough time, he hoped, to convince Brave Fox that she should be spared.
Unfortunately, the maiden regained her senses when they reached the horses and put up such a fuss that Chaska, as much as he hated to, again had to knock her unconscious. Easily, then, he hoisted her astride, mounted behind her, and rode away. When he was a safe distance from the others, he took the time to tie the maiden’s hands, so she would be more easily manageable when she awoke the second time. But when she did, hours later, he found her quite calm, as if in a stupor.
Now he wondered if perhaps he had permanently damaged her in some way. The fear of that lingered until she began to cry. It was then he realized the fight had gone out of her. Most likely she would be fine from here on out, if his experience at breaking horses was any indicator.
When Chaska awakened Taloma during the night, she had difficulty comprehending what he told her.
“Your father ordered no captives! None were to be spared!”
“I know I have done wrong. But now that I have, I’m powerless to correct it. I can’t bring myself to make it right. She is so young, so innocent.”
“No Ojibwa is innocent. It is in their blood to thieve and kill.”
“She is young enough to change. You’ll see. She will be like us in no time. I’ll see to it personally,” Chaska persisted.
“Where is she now?” Taloma asked.
“Not far. I will bring her here. You can see for yourself from the firelight what a beautiful girl she is.” He left quickly for the nearby tree where he had tied her and soon returned with the maiden in tow.
“She is beautiful,” Taloma agreed, walking around her for a better look. At her back she lifted the maiden’s brightly beaded buckskin dress for a look at her tiny rump, and more.
This whole matter left Chaska a little embarrassed. He t
urned away for a time until he saw Taloma pull a blazing stick from the fire and hold it up to the maiden.
“You never told me she has blue eyes. This one has several generations of French in her. She has more white in her than Ojibwa. Didn’t you notice?”
“Will that help with a favorable decision from Brave Fox?”
“Not likely,” Taloma said, then turned to face him. “Stake her in my lodge. I will hide her until the time is right for speaking with your father. If he says she must go, then it will be done.”
“Kill her?” he said, petrified with fear.
“No, I will see to it that doesn’t happen. But she may be traded to the Pawnee or Cheyenne. They take outsiders.”
When early morning came, Chaska could not wait to see if his treasured captive had recovered from the blows he had dealt her the previous day. As he hurriedly made his way to Taloma’s tepee, he came face to face with Spotted Horse.
“You deserted your people!” Spotted Horse spoke loudly. “You have shamed our warriors! And now they are out there without leadership because I feared for your life.”
“I have good reason for what I did, but I am not sorry for doing it.” Chaska returned defiantly.
“Then you will be punished for your actions.”
“I am prepared for whatever punishment must be placed on me.”
“Then we shall meet with Brave Fox and the other chiefs when I return, to decide. Now, I must go to select a fresh horse for the ride back to gather our warriors and the many rewards of our victory.”
“There is another matter I must confess to you. I have taken a maiden of the Ojibwa. I will make her my woman.”
“That cannot be done. It is against the ways of our people and the will of our chief. She must be killed immediately. Where have you placed her?” Spotted Horse demanded.
“I have placed her in the lodge of Taloma, but she must not be harmed!” Chaska shouted.
“She must be killed, otherwise it will be very hard on you at the council. For your sake, please let me take her with me and do this deed for you?”
“No!” Chaska shouted again. “I will pay for my wrongs, but no harm can come to the maiden.”
“Then I have no knowledge of this and will offer no help for you at council. I will not be shamed because of your weakness.” With those final words, Spotted Horse marched off toward the remaining hobbled ponies grazing at the edge of the camp.
CHAPTER THREE
There was much rejoicing and merriment in the camp when the warriors returned with the rewards of their victory. Some two hundred horses, many buffalo robes, and of course the rifles, over a hundred in all, along with a great supply of lead and powder, were among the countless items. For the first time, these plains Sioux were armed with weapons comparable to the forces of any foe, even the ever-advancing white man.
Taloma had told Brave Fox of Chaska’s doing, and it saddened him. His decision to call a council of chiefs was delayed for two days until the village partying had subsided and the warriors blew the last of the smell of blood from their nostrils.
The council was made up of two chiefs of the Dakotah, along with Spotted Horse and Brave Fox, a small gathering of wise beings brought together for the sole purpose of dealing with a suitable punishment for Chaska and the future of the Ojibwa maiden.
Brave Fox knew the final decision as to the welfare of both lay in his hands, but felt it wise to seek the wisdom of the others before making it.
The mumblings of the Dakotah chiefs favored the banishment of Chaska from both villages forever and the immediate death of the maiden. When it was Spotted Horse’s turn to speak, he took up a more favorable opinion as to the fate of Chaska. He spoke of Chaska’s youth and immaturity, of a lack of available young maidens in the Lakhota village for him to choose from, and of Chaska being teased by the maidens of the Dakotah for his occasionally yellow hair, when swimming, and his blue eyes. He also spoke of the fact that Chaska was not a chief and therefore should not be punished for leaving the war party while in battle.
“He should be allowed to remain and learn from his mistakes so he may someday be a great chief of our people,” Spotted Horse concluded.
“Pale Fox not of Indian blood!” a Dakotah chief said angrily. “He should never be chief of any of our people! Already he shows the weaknesses of the white man…”
Not wanting to lie about Chaska’s race, Brave Fox said, “No doubt he is blessed by the spirit of the white buffalo. We must not forget, it was his wisdom that now takes us to this land of plenty we call the Paha Sapa. He moves about with the grace of the winter hare, yet speaks with the wisdom of the great owl. He is already a better warrior than many of you, yet he has not reached his manhood. But aside from that, he has wronged us, all of us, and should be made to learn from it. I have decided as punishment that Chaska shall be cast away from our camps until the earth, the hare, and the great owl all have turned the color of winter snow. Only then will he be allowed to return.”
With that, a gasp was heard outside the lodge. It was made by Taloma. She had been listening all along.
“The Dakotah chiefs have called for the death of the Ojibwa maiden. What will Spotted Horse have done with her?” Brave Fox asked.
“I too, feel the maiden should die,” Spotted Horse responded. “And I think it should be done in a place for all to see, so those who lost family by these Ojibwa hands can witness the last of them gone.”
“Spotted Horse speaks wisely…” Brave Fox started.
“Have you become so old and feeble you cannot remember your own youth?” Taloma scolded as she entered the tepee waving a big stick, which prompted the Dakotah chiefs, as well as Spotted Horse, to exit rapidly. “Have you no memory of when you took the Pawnee woman as your own? Have you washed this from your mind, along with your growing hatred of all people not Lakhota, that you cannot see fit to allow this innocent girl to live? The wrong done to our people was not the maiden’s doing; she is only a child. And if you kill her, where will the killing stop? Are you so deaf that you do not hear the baby cries that were not in our camp days ago? Did you not notice wet mothers with two babies now at their breasts? Or the amount of mare’s milk that is now going about the village? And it seems now more young boys and girls dash about among the tepees. So will you now build a big fire and have your people bring the children they had the heart to save, so they too can be put to death along with the maiden? Perhaps you should ask the Dakotah chiefs if there are any new faces in their camps?”
Brave Fox listened quietly until Taloma had finished. After a long silence, he spoke. “Perhaps Brave Fox is too old to be chief any longer. My ears did not hear the sound of strange babies. Nor did my eyes see any new faces. Why has no one told me of this before now?”
“Because they fear what you will do…”
With that, the old chief hushed her by raising a hand. “Taloma is a wise old woman who has guided me in many decisions of the past. But old woman is crafty to her own wants. Taloma knew the son I have grown to love is the child of the white woman Breanne, yet did not tell me of it.”
“And he has brought you much pleasure and pride over the years.”
“Yes, but now I am looked on by my people, as well as the Dakotah, as a chief who does not follow his own rules. Perhaps that is why they break them?”
“Perhaps they break them because it is the human thing to do. You would not have put Chaska to death even had you known at the time. And I think you did know,” Taloma accused. “Taloma is not the only crafty person in this lodge.”
“You do understand why I must punish Chaska for what he has done? It is obedience he must learn before he can become a great leader.”
“The sadness I see on your face tells me of the hurt in your heart for having to punish him. I will not fight you on this decision, but to kill the maiden…”
“What would you have done with her?” he asked.
“Allow her to live. If she must go from here, then trade her to the
Pawnee or some other tribe that favors outside blood among them.”
“If that is your wish, then I will honor it. The Ojibwa maiden will remain in your care until such time as she is traded. But if she takes up the evil ways of her people before that happens, I will leave the decision of her punishment to Spotted Horse. Do you understand?”
“Thank you,” Taloma said, but before she could leave, he spoke again.
“You have made me weak in the face of my fellow chiefs here today. From now on, my words will not be respected among them.”
These words saddened Taloma. Brave Fox had always been a brave and respected chief. Now she feared he would hang his head at council fires while the younger ones guided the destiny of his people. This, she could not let happen.
“When the Dakotah came half-starved to the prairie from the land of many lakes, you took them in and showed them our methods of survival. They owe you for their existence and have no right to look down their noses at you now. And Spotted Horse owes you as well. You took him in as a teenager when his parents died of the dreaded pox. You trained him well, and now he is your most loyal chief. It is my belief that none of these people will ever disrespect you or your decisions.”
The following day Brave Fox called another meeting of the council chiefs. He asked that Chaska also be present.
“I have made the decision that the Ojibwa maiden will remain in our village unharmed until she can be traded to a friendly tribe. She will be in the care of Taloma, a respected woman among our people, until that happens.
“Chaska, my son, for your misdeeds, it is my decision that you be banished from the combined tribes of the Lakhota Dakotah peoples until the white of winter covers the land. You are ordered to remain behind, as we move on toward the new place, until you can no longer see our dust. All of your possessions are to be left behind, except for the skins on your back. If you are strong and wise, as I believe you to be, you will survive. If not, you will become sand to the earth. I’m sorry, my son. Go now and prepare.”
