by J. R. WRIGHT
“Yes, you come! Old chief say.”
When Luke appeared at their circle, none of the chiefs stood, nor did he expect them to. Most were very old, but even those that weren’t didn’t bother. In their world every action of the chief was closely scrutinized by anyone looking on, and there were plenty of onlookers today. If one was to appear important and unafraid, he would not rise as if frightened by those who approached, even from the back.
As was the custom, Luke sat, even though it pained him to do so, and waited for one of them to first speak to him.
“We welcome you, Tom Hill,” Brave Fox said in English. “My son tells me you fear for our safety.”
“I do,” Luke responded. “There may be many bluecoats coming because of something that happened at Fort Laramie last year. Some soldiers were killed.”
“Why would they come here? Our people took no part in the killing of soldiers.”
“No. You didn’t. But the crazy man who will lead these bluecoats does not care that you are innocent. In the past he has been known to take revenge on peoples who are known to be innocent.”
“Who is this crazy man?” one of the Dakotah chiefs asked.
“His name is Harney.”
By the shaking of the heads all around, it was obvious none here had heard of him. Harney was better known farther south, where in his early career, he had had no problem rolling cannons up to villages of peaceful Indians and blowing them away for little or no reason. Women and children present had no bearing on the target.
“How will we prepare for this coming?” another Dakotah chief asked.
Luke looked around to their solemn faces, then turned his attention to Chaska.
Seeing this, the chiefs looked to Chaska as well. Not wanting to speak without it, Chaska turned to Brave Fox for his approval. Receiving a nod, he spoke in Lakhota.
“I know of a safe place for the women and children farther back into the hills. There we must lay in a large supply of food, so none are burdened with it when the time comes to flee. Our warriors must take cover for watching over the only trail going into the hills from here. Everyone who has a gun or a bow will be there behind high rocks. Even the old, as well as the young, must be there. We are few compared to their many. Arrow makers must start now to build a supply. Bow makers likewise…” Chaska continued on until all of the Dakotah chiefs had given a nod to his plan.
“Will you take us to these places you suggest so we may all become familiar with them?” one of the chiefs asked.
“I will be happy to, once I am assured that my woman and child have arrived at the scaffold so they may be at peace for eternity,” Chaska said, his eyes welling with tears once again.
“Wah shda…, wah shda…, wah shda…,” (Good…, good..., good…,) was said all around as they nodded in agreement.
Satisfied with that, Brave Fox then turned to Luke and said in English, “Our son is very wise, don’t you think?”
Shocked by the statement, Luke returned, “It makes me proud to be his father.”
“Me too!” the old chief nodded in agreement. “With two wise fathers to guide him, how could he be otherwise?”
With that Luke wanted to laugh, but realized this was not the place for such a display of delight, and got to his feet to leave.
CHAPTER THIRTY
After having made a pass by several vacated Indian camps along the way, Luke arrived back at Laramie several days later, confident that all he had set out to do once leaving Independence several weeks earlier had been accomplished. As he limped into the store, Cola came up to him near immediately.
“Didn’t I tell you to stay off that leg, Tom? You shouldn’t have sneaked off like that! Has the wound become infected again?”
“No.” Luke was taken aback. “It’s just a little sore, yet. I’ll be fine in a week or two,” he said in an attempt to calm her down.
“Drop the buckskins! I have to take a look,” she demanded, dropping to her knees.
Luke glanced around. Seeing no one about, he did as she asked. Thankfully, he had on the red flannels with the sizable hole he had cut there purposely for examination of the wound. Otherwise this would be embarrassing.
Looking closely around the healing wound for blue streaks, a sure sign of infection, Cola saw none. Satisfied, she stood. “Those stitches will need to come out eventually. Who’ll do that?”
“I guess I can manage, when the time comes.” He pulled up the buckskins and retied them.
“How’s Chaska?”
“His wife died in childbirth…”
“Oh, Tom! I’m so sorry,” Cola said sincerely. “The baby?”
“Her too.”
“How sad for him!” Cola’s eyes clouded. What she wouldn’t do for a child of her own came to mind again, as it often had of late, considering she was nearing the age when that would no longer be possible.
“He’ll be okay. He’s strong,” Luke said. “Once this Harney thing is finished he’ll be coming for Bright Moon.”
“Oh, Tom.” Cola covered the disappointment that instantly showed on her face. “Must he? We have become so attached to her and the baby. Why can’t Chaska move here? We can always use extra help.”
“You’ll need to bring that up to him when he arrives,” Luke said, looking for an out. He had no desire to be on the bad side of Cola. She may go Indian on him, as Bordeaux had said. “He does have his heart set on being chief someday.”
“But he’s white, Tom! He should be among his own people, don’t you think?”
Luke supposed the reverse of that could be asked of Cola. But he wasn’t going to say it. Not even for the sake of argument. “He may be white, but in actions, he’s as much Indian as any I’ve ever known. They even sought his advice at the council held to discuss the possible coming of General Harney. Some of them look to him as if he is a god of sorts. You could see it on their faces.”
“Tom…!” Bright Moon shouted as she came from the back, baby in her arms.
“Don’t you dare tell her,” Cola said in a hushed tone. “I don’t want her disappointed if he doesn’t come again.”
“Sure,” Luke said and turned to face Bright Moon as she approached. “How’s my grandson?”
“Grandson, Little Tom, better now that he chew fat,” she said and held the near naked boy up for his viewing. No doubt he was acquiring a chubby look, if that was what she implied. “See Chaska?”
“I saw him. He is fine,” was all Luke dare say in light of Cola’s warning.
“He come soon?” she asked in a hopeful tone.
“Honey, didn’t Chaska himself say he would come in summer?” said Cola.
“Yes,” Bright Moon said meekly.
“Then you must be patient.”
“Yes, Cola,” Bright Moon said disappointedly. “Grandpa Tom, stay?” she said anxiously as if looking for something positive to come from this visit.
“I need to get on to Fort Kearny,” Luke said as pleasantly as he knew how, then snatched the baby from Bright Moon’s arms and looked into his brilliant blue eyes. No doubt Breanne was there, he determined upon close examination. The color was near the same as hers, where his own were more of a steel blue. It seemed the baby was amused by this sudden turn of events and even smiled briefly, not sure what was expected of him.
“He likes you!” Cola said excitedly.
“You think he knows I’m his grandpa?”
“He knows,” Bright Moon said. “He very smart,” she beamed.
Once he had purchased some supplies, Luke inquired as to when the first mail rider was expected down from Fort Hall, where those who handled the west end of the route wintered each year.
“Any day now,” Cola responded. “Usually, when the snow is gone, as it near is now. Why?”
“If you have an envelope, I’d like to drop a line to a friend in Independence.”
“I have stationary, envelope and postage, all included for two bits.”
“I’ll take it,” Luke said, then s
at down at a nearby table to write a short letter to Sarah explaining why the trip was taking so long. He didn’t want her to worry, as he knew she did when he was late in returning.
Finally back on the trail, Luke decided to make one last pass by Little Thunder’s camp before going on to Fort Kearny. He really didn’t expect Harney before June. If that turned out to be the case, there was still plenty of time for them to leave this area.
When Luke arrived there three days later, he circled wide, not wanting a recurrence of what happened the last time. In fact this time, he had no intention of riding in at all. Once his presence was known, he planned camp a safe distance away and waited. If Little Thunder came to him, so be it. If not, he would ride on to Kearny after one day.
As it turned out, Little Thunder did come, and only hours later. He and Red Cloud rode up under a peace flag, their faces fully painted for war. Little Thunder began giving signs while jabbering in Brule, even before leaving the horse to stand boldly before him. Red Cloud, however, did not dismount, which led Luke to believe this meeting would be brief.
“I see my friend Hill has healed since he was here last. My daughter did a fine job of the stitching, yes?” He smiled broadly.
“Your daughter saved my life with her skilled fingers,” Luke said, not about to mention he would have died anyway had it not been for Cola’s doctoring. “You must tell her I am forever grateful.”
“Just knowing you lived will please her. Too much praise will make her unbearable to be around.” Little Thunder smiled again.
Luke laughed, and while doing so, saw Little Thunder’s face suddenly turn serious.
“Many of my warriors believe you are here to find us, so you can tell the evil one Harney of our location?”
“It is not a secret where you are. Everyone knows this is your people’s favorite summer hunting grounds. I would not have come before to warn you, if my plan was to deceive you. Now I am here again with the same message. Go, before it is too late!” Luke signed back while speaking in English, as well as Sioux, occasionally.
“I have done as you asked, see?” He pointed to the canyon below where only fifty or so lodges remained of the hundreds that were there before. “My people have all gone. Only the warriors and their families remain, as I said they would.”
“You should have all gone. You and your warriors will be no match for the big guns that the evil one, Harney, will bring.”
“Then we will die defending those among us who were justified in doing what they did.”
With that, Luke glanced at Red Cloud and found him glaring defiantly back at him. It was obvious who Little Thunder was protecting and had been all along.
“It is that soldier man Grat-tan who was wrong in killing Chief Conquering Bear. Conquering Bear did nothing to deserve that. He was not the one who butchered the lame cow that started this thing. And he did not partake in the eating of it.”
“All you say is true. But words will not help now. You must go to save yourselves before it is too late.”
“No!” Little Thunder said and remounted his horse. “We will be here when they arrive. Don’t come with them, Hill. I would not want to see you die, my friend.” He swiftly galloped away. Red Cloud fell in behind him.
Watching them go, Luke wondered if he would ever again see Little Thunder alive. There was a man willing to die for what he felt was right, rather than humbly slink away as others had. At least he admired the man for that, although he feared it would get him killed. Turning to the mule, he boarded, steered her in the direction of Fort Kearny, and kicked her to an easy lope. There was no need to hurry now. What more could he possibly do?
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Colonel Snively was not at Fort Kearny when Luke arrived back there, he was informed by Kinney Hardy at the stable.
“The colonel left out of here with a company of cavalry yesterday to join up with General Harney’s troops in route from Independence.”
“So Harney is on the move?” Luke ordered the mule down.
“Sorta. The messenger that came said he was escorting the first wagon train out, about fifteen hundred Conestogas. Largest train ever assembled to travel the Oregon Trail.”
“Who’s the wagon master? Did he say?”
“Meek has the largest group, near a thousand wagons, bound for Oregon. The remainder is split up between trains destined for Utah and California.”
“How far will Harney escort them, did he say?”
“All the way through Cheyenne country, clear over to Fort Hall, according to the messenger,” Kinney said, removing his army issue forage cap to scratch above an ear. His red hair was filled with straw dust from bedding the freshly cleaned stalls. “I knew you’d want to know, so I paid close attention.”
“Thanks, Kinney,” Luke returned, offering a hand in appreciation. Kinney took it smilingly. “Did he happen to say how long all of this would take?”
“No, sir. But I figure it’ll take most of the summer.”
“I agree. But what I don’t understand is why he’s tying all those troops up for so long? His mission, as I understood it, was to square up for that Grattan blunder. What the hell is he doing traipsing off on a sojourn of a thousand miles?”
“The messenger did say there were some eastern reporters tagging along. Maybe there’s someone of importance accompanying that train.”
“Harney would be reason enough.” Luke got off the mule and ordered her up. “He’s always good for a front page story or two back east, so I’ve been told. Did Colonel Snively go of his own accord, or was he ordered by Harney to do so?”
“He definitely had orders. He read them before the entire fort, gathered out there on the cavalry yard. I listened from here. There was a lot of talk about possible Indian attacks and such.”
“Indian attacks? What Indians? Hell, except for the Fort Indians, a few renegade Pawnee, and the Cheyenne further west, there aren’t five hundred Indians left on the central plains! Harney’s advance scouts must have told him that. He’s just building a massive show of strength to impress those reporters…”
“Tom Hill, I presume?” a rather short middle aged man, dressed in eastern gentleman’s garb, said coming up from the side. “Snively said you’d be along any day now. He also said you were a grizzly looking man, rides a calico mule. I presume that’s the animal there?” The man pointed.
“Oh, he did, did he?” Luke turned to face him.
“My name is Twiss… Thomas Twiss, of the Indian Bureau.” He then poked out a hand smartly. “I need your help, sir!”
“Colonel Snively mentioned you were coming, Twiss.” Luke took the offered hand. “What can I do for you?”
“Well, Mister Hill, it seems I have a problem.” Twiss took Luke by the arm, leading him from the stable and away from the alert ears of Kinney Hardy and others about. “As you must know by now, General Harney is on his way here. I’m told he has enough firepower with him to blast every Indian in these parts to smithereens. With your help, I aim to see that doesn’t happen. Colonel Snively tells me you’re on friendly terms with most of the northern plains tribes. Is that so?”
“I wouldn’t go within a hundred miles of the Cheyenne, Crow, or Shoshone. Other than those, I suppose that’s a fairly accurate statement,” Luke replied.
“I’m not in the least concerned with the Cheyenne, or the Crow, or even the Shoshone!” Twiss halted and turned to face the taller man eye to eye. “Those tribes refused to agree to the Treaty of 1851, initiated to protect travelers on the Oregon Trail. If Harney chooses to clinch his thirst for red blood on those peoples, I have no objection. As far as I’m concerned, they’re a big pain in the ass anyway. But as for the various segments of the Siouan people, my sentiments are quite the contrary. We must do our utmost best to protect them from the likes of Harney if at all possible. We can’t afford an uprising, Hill! One that could very well escalate into a goddamned prairie Indian war! Tens of thousands of innocent white people settled out here would die if that
was to happen. It would literally serve to split the country in two!” he ranted. “Westward travel would come to a halt. The whole damned trail would shut down…!”
“Hold on, Twiss! I know all that! What can we do to stop him? Other than what I’ve already done, of course.”
“What have you done?” Twiss stepped closer, glaring now. “Snively said he hadn’t yet ordered you to do anything.”
“He didn’t! What I did was of my own initiative.”
“And what was that?”
“I think you’d best tell me what you have in mind, before I give up the rope that may hang me.”
“Well,” Twiss looked around to see who may be listening, saw no one close by, and said, “to be direct, I’d tell every friendly tribe this side of the Missouri River to hightail it out of this part of the country. At least until this thing blows over. Run for your lives, I’d say. Or, at least get your butts to Fort Laramie, where you can be protected by me!”
“That didn’t help Conquering Bear and the other defenseless Indians killed there by Lieutenant Grattan and his detachment.”
“Grattan was wrong! He had no authority to do what he did! All such disputes are supposed to be handled by the territorial Indian Agent, as mandated by Congress. What Harney is planning to do would be wrong too, had it not been ordered by the War Department,” Twiss said. “Now, will you tell me what you have done?”
“I did just what you said – told them all to hightail it.”
“And they did as you asked?”
“Yep, all but Little Thunder and his small group of Brule warriors, camped over on the Little Blue River near Ash Hollow.”
“I understand he’s the one responsible for Grattan’s massacre?”
“Not exactly. Actually, Little Thunder tried to stop it. It was Red Cloud that led the attack.”
“I don’t believe I’ve heard of this Red Cloud?”
“I hadn’t either, until this happened. He’s a want to be chief of the Oglala. He has assembled a group of young killers who are more than willing to follow his orders.”
