by J. R. WRIGHT
Looking back, Chaska saw them coming for miles behind him, the soldiers both mounted and on foot, the civilians, the reporters, the photographers, and then eventually the wagons.
“I dare say, you can wear a man to a frazzle.” Custer dismounted and went to the stream for a drink. “Is that gold I see there?” He came back up near immediately.
“It is the gold you search for,” Chaska confirmed.
“Gold….! Gold…!” Custer tossed his hat into the air as the first on horseback arrived. Among those was Charlie Reynolds. “As soon as you’re rested, I want you to ride to Fort Laramie and wire the eastern newspapers. I want the press to hear the news first from me. General Custer discovers gold in the Black Hills. Write that down, Charlie.”
“Yes, sir!” Reynolds said reluctantly. He knew Custer had been reduced in rank to lieutenant colonial once the Civil War had ended, but he would send the message just as the arrogant bastard wanted it. Was there anything they had seen of importance in the Black Hills that he hadn’t named for himself? Let’s see, so far there were photographs taken of Custer Park, Custer Peak, Custer’s Gulch, Custer’s Canyon and Custer’s Valley.
In all the excitement and revelry that momentarily ensued, Chaska slipped away to the south, leaving the Paha Sapa. And from there he traveled west, which eventually brought him back into the hills. Then, after resting himself and the horse for a few hours, he rode on back to the cave, arriving there sometime in the middle of the next night.
Now the real work must begin, he knew. Not only would the gold his tribe had collected over the years need to be moved out of the hills, so would the rifles stored in the cave. Once the word was out, the masses would surely come, and eventually every square inch of these hills would be scoured in search of the yellow stuff that drove white men crazy. That meant the cave could eventually be discovered as well. Even as much as he hated to believe that would actually happen, it needed to be planned for just the same, he reasoned.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
It had been five years since the new arrangement was implemented at the Tea Cup. And since then twelve of the hands had married, ten houses had been built thus far along the river, and eighteen children had been born there. Of those children one was Wicahpi Tana, now four, who was named by her aunt Cola at White Bird’s request. “Look out the window, sister, and tell me what you see,” she had said only minutes after the birth. Since it was night time, how many choices could there be? So, Many Star became her name. Upon later compromise with Luke, however, it was agreed the child would be called, Tana Star. It meant the same, except one part of the name was of the Omaha dialect, while the other English. It seemed quite fitting of the baby girl herself, who had her mother’s coloring and dimples, and her father’s blue eyes.
With the ranch running smoothly under the new arrangement, Luke had gotten into the habit of spending more time in Cheyenne. And it was there at the hotel on August 15th, he received a telegraph message. It was from James Bordeaux at Fort Laramie, simply stating: General Custer had just reported to the eastern press, gold was discovered in the Black Hills. Now it appeared the whole world would know. Not good news for Chaska, he knew, which was obviously the reason Bordeaux had sent the wire.
Sadly, Luke questioned whether even the military could keep the white man out now, which was their charge under the treaty of eighteen sixty-eight. No doubt the place would be swarming with prospectors before summer was out. Nonetheless, Luke thought he should at least send a telegraph to Thomas Twiss at the Indian Bureau in Washington, even though surely he had received the news same as he and could see the potential for trouble on the horizon.
But before he got around to wiring Twiss, another wire came from Bordeaux two days later. It read as follows: “Accompanied Tom Too to see Red Cloud. Red Cloud sent warriors in support.” Luke gathered from that that Chaska must have sent Blue to notify Red Cloud of this Custer’s presence in the Black Hills. That being the case, this may be the beginning of another Indian war. Generals just didn’t run around in the west without a sizable escort. And just what in hell was this Custer doing in there anyway? The treaty of 1868 specifically stated ‘absolute undisturbed use and occupation’ on the part of the named tribes included. Luke knew because Red Cloud had asked him to write it in that way. It was crap like this that had caused the Red Cloud War in the Powder River country, and that this treaty was brought about to put an end to. Would the government ever learn? Or was this something that General Custer had decided to do of his own accord? Perhaps he was an arrogant ass, the likes of which hadn’t been seen since General Harney ran roughshod over the area. Either way, the damage had been done now, and someone will have to pay the consequences for it someday. He just hoped it wasn’t Chaska and his little tribe left on the dirty end of the stick when it was all said and done.
Up until this came up, Luke had been quite busy at laying out the corrals Kenny Hardy would build rail side on the property east of Cheyenne. The surveying on this land, as well as that of the big ranch, had been completed last year. Now Luke was anxious to get the shipping corrals finished. There were only two years left on the Indian contracts, and nobody seemed to know if those would be renewed. At any rate, with present production up at the Tea Cup, excess grass fat steers would need to be shipped east as early as this fall.
It wasn’t that Kenny Hardy was without work, either, since completing the additions to the hotel. He and Luke had partnered in building several hundred houses on vacant lots to meet the demands of newcomers to Cheyenne. In fact even now several crews of carpenters were hard at work turning out ten or more houses each month.
Lot sales had been brisk as well, keeping the survey crew busy laying out new blocks for sale. Titus Oxley at the bank was beside himself over the constant flow of people through his doors, requesting loans for the construction of one thing or the other. Business had been so good, in fact, that he needed to bring in extra loan officers to satisfy the demand. And because some of the money loaned out was Luke’s, he earned a share of the interest charged as well.
“Daddy!” Tana came running when Luke entered the special four room suite, built just for them, as a part of the expansion of the Empire Hotel. She was wearing a new red polka dot dress, which her mother had spent hours of her idle time while here hand stitching for her.
“Tana Star!” Luke scooped her up and whirled her about. “Did you miss me today?”
“I did, Daddy. Can I go with you tomorrow?”
“Yep, tomorrow you can come, because…”
“Because why, Daddy?” Her dimples deepened and her blue eyes sparkled with excitement.
“Because tomorrow we’re going home.”
“We’re going home!” White Bird came cheerfully from the little kitchen to the side and gave Luke a kiss. “Yippee!”
“Yippee!” Tana echoed.
“I’m worried about Chaska. I want to be there in case he sends for me.” Luke removed his hat and dropped in on the rack next to the door.
“Is there something wrong?”
“Perhaps not, but I’m thinking there will be before long. Some general reported finding gold in the Black Hills.”
“And that’s not good?”
“No, because now people will be flooding onto Lakhota land looking for it.”
“Will Bright Moon and the girls be in danger?”
“They all may be in danger. That’s why I’m worried.”
“Oh, Tom, will you go there? Make them come to the ranch?”
“You know Chaska when it comes to his people. He’ll never leave them.”
“Then maybe they all should come?”
Hearing that, Luke laughed. “I don’t know what we would do with a few hundred Lakhota at the Tea Cup! Times have changed, White Bird. Indian tribes just can’t go anywhere they want anymore. They must stay where they’re told.”
“That’s sad,” White Bird said, tearing up.
“That’s sad.” Tana Star came up and hugged her mother’s
leg.
“Yep, it is. I agree on that.” Luke walked to a table and poured a whiskey. “Especially since it was all theirs to roam as they pleased not so long ago.”
With that, White Bird, dragging Tana Star along, put her arms around Luke and laid her head on his chest. “Will you make it right again, Tom?”
There was still a lot White Bird didn’t understand about him. In her eyes the man was a god, capable of performing miracles at will where the Indians were concerned.
“I’ll do what I can,” he said to console her. But in truth there was little he could do.
Before leaving for the ranch the following day, Luke sent a telegraph to James Bordeaux, informing him he would be at the Tea Cup, if needed in any way. He then made one last pass by the post office for any mail that may have arrived since last he checked it two days before. Among others was another letter from Anne Budd. It seemed after the first few, which had to do with Sarah, the letters shifted to more contemporary things like her daughters’ activities, her sickly husband, the weather, but little about herself or how she and Sarah had become friends in the first place. She once even sent a recipe for a cake she had made for one of her daughters’ birthday. Anne thought his new wife may be interested, since it had turned out so well. This one Luke let Mary read. She and White Bird did make the cake, which turned out quite delicious. After that, White Bird, with every new letter received, insisted on knowing if any new recipe was in it. No more were sent, however, even though he had showered her with compliments on the first one.
When Luke had finished reading the letter, which wasn’t much different in content than most of the recent ones, he handed it off to White Bird. She still couldn’t read well but, after a fashion, always seemed to come away with what was written in them.
In the meantime Luke went on to the other letters, just in case any needed answering before leaving town. The next was from the U.S. Department of the Interior, and it contained the deeds to the Tea Cup land, as well as the ten thousand acres near Cheyenne. These he knew would be better off in the vault at the bank, where Oxley allowed him to keep other important papers. He would drop them off on the way out of town.
The third letter Luke opened was from the territorial governor. He had had little contact with John Campbell over the past five years. There was a request from him years back, asking that more land be added to the site set aside for the new capitol building, if that should ever be built. Obligingly, then, Luke agreed to double the area from the original one hundred and sixty acres, to three hundred and twenty. A letter of thank you was then sent over from the governor, and that was the last he’d heard from him, until now.
This letter, it seemed, was more of a personal one, even though it was encased in the official envelope of the territorial governor. It started out as an apology for having neglected him all these years. With the abundance of work required in setting up a new government, along with a number of trips to and from Washington, he had simply been too busy to keep up with personal acquaintances. And then he added: “Please say hello to White Bird, from Isabella and me.”
With that, Luke stopped reading and said to White Bird on the buggy seat beside him, “The governor and his wife said hi.”
“Oh,” White Bird said. “That was nice. If you write them back, will you say the same for me?”
“I will,” Luke responded and continued to read, wondering from all the buttering what request Mister Campbell had in store for him this time. It came on the second page. The governor was putting together an emissary to go to Washington and wanted him to be a part of it. The reason behind the mission was to convince Congress it was time the northern Cheyenne and Sioux tribes were moved out of the Powder River country in northern Wyoming, to make way for settlement. Luke couldn’t believe what he was reading. Why would this man think he’d agree to do a fool thing like that? Luke had always been a champion of Indian rights. Campbell must know that; he had given him an award just five years ago which exemplified that fact.
So angry was Luke now that he wadded up the letter and threw it onto the dusty street. The arrogance of the man to think he’d go against what he believed to be right for the sake of politics! Let the settlers find other land; the Powder River country was taken. It said so in the treaty of 1868. But then what was a treaty anyway if not to be broken? The government had been doing it since Thomas Jefferson. Perhaps even before.
“Something wrong?” White Bird asked.
“Something wrong, Daddy?” Tana Star echoed from between them on the buggy seat.
Using the whip to bring the horse to a trot was all the answer they got. Soon they were into the countryside, on their way home. There would be no answering of any of the letters or stopping at the bank as he originally planned. Luke was much too angry for any of that now.
CHAPTER TWENTY
As it turned out, General Custer was long clear of the Paha Sapa before the three hundred warriors sent by Red Cloud reached there. They were led by a young warrior chief named Crazy Horse, who near immediately demanded the catch of rifles in Chaska’s possession that Red Cloud had told him about. Those rifles were now in the Lakhota village, thanks to a wagon left behind by the Custer expedition. And the road they had cut provided a path of travel for it, all the way there.
As it turned out, Red Cloud’s warriors didn’t stay long in their camp. Crazy Horse was anxious to go to the west and warn the Sioux tribes there to be extra vigilant of any future intruders into the Paha Sapa. Tom Too had wanted to go with them. He was feeling pretty good about what he had accomplished in getting the warriors here, and wanted some glory to go along with it. Chaska, however, flatly refused.
“Your place is with your people. If you’re ever to be a chief someday, then you must know that? We have much to do here in gathering a supply of meat and making the tepees of the old ready for winter winds.”
But many young Lakhota warriors, with the smell of glory in their nostrils, did go with Crazy Horse. None had asked permission, however, knowing they would be refused. So they slipped away in the night, leaving their women and children to further burden the few meat gatherers that remained.
In light of this and all that had happened, Chaska, to the disappointment of his family, saw no way they could go visit the Tea Cup this year. And he doubted next year would be any different, with word being out that gold was found in the Black Hills.
To add insult to injury, a month later the bluecoats came again. This time, however, it was a detachment of cavalry from Fort Laramie. Chaska discovered, once speaking with the captain in charge, that they had been sent at the insistence of the Indian Agent upon the urging of James Bordeaux. Their orders were to patrol this area of the hills against intruders, while other detachments were sent elsewhere.
This gave Chaska very little comfort, though, considering the enormous area a few handfuls of soldiers would need to cover. To do a good job of that would surely take thousands, or at least as many as Custer had under his command when he so thoroughly dominated the hills.
Another surprise came some weeks later, when out of an early morning fog rode Tom Hill. He was sitting tall in the saddle, just as he had appeared that first time Chaska had laid eyes on him, so long ago. But, of course, he’d looked differently upon him then. That was before he’d discovered the man was his father.
“Father needn’t worry!” Chaska said when he came to investigate the commotion that traveled through the village as Luke arrived. “My people may not be mighty, but we are wise.”
“I’ll take wise any day.” Luke stepped down, gave Chaska a manly hug, then brought up the first of five heavily burdened pack animals, tied head to tail. “James Bordeaux and Cola sent you something. I promised I’d get these mules back to him.”
“What is it?” Chaska asked, taking offense that maybe the Bordeaux thought his little tribe could no longer provide for themselves. After all, he had never taken government handouts, why would they now think the Lakhota were in need?
&n
bsp; “I believe it’s about a ton of cornmeal.”
“Well, then tell them thanks. I’m sure my people will put it to good use.” Chaska took the lead rope handed him and passed it off to one of the sub chiefs, who was among the many gathered around. “See that it is divided equally among all,” he said in Lakhota to grateful sounds issued all around.
“Tom Hill!” Bright Moon came on a run, followed closely by the children.
Once hugs were happily handed out, Luke went to his saddlebags and came out with some gifts of his own. First it was a rag doll for Rain, followed by a spool of red ribbon for Little Moon, knowing how she liked to braid it into her hair, and a blue dress made by White Bird for Bree. Then out came a shiny new Bowie knife for Tom Too, a fancy hand mirror for Bright Moon, and then a new Colt 45 revolver, along with four boxes of ammo, for Chaska.
Many a joyful thank you, and thank you, Grandpa, went around during this process, before Luke finally got his son off by the river alone, where Chaska chose to try out the new gun.
“I got the story of Custer’s visit from Bordeaux, as relayed to him by Tom Too. How bad was it?”
“Other than why they came in the first place and the mess they made while here, I guess we’ll get over it. They didn’t take much game that anyone could see, other than an old cinnamon bear, from which they took only the hide and claws, leaving the rest to the ravens. They brought cattle for meat. I guess they must prefer that over deer and goat. We were at the cave at the time, so they got that far before I even knew they were here. The tribe took to the hills at first sight of them.”
“Bordeaux and that new Indian Agent asked for an investigation. But of course that went nowhere. General Sherman was of the impression no breach of the treaty was committed, regardless of how it was worded. General Terry, who was at the treaty signing in sixty-eight, backed that up by saying the military has the right to discharge its duties regardless of where the need lies. What need? Where was the need?”
