Song Of The Warrior

by Georgina Gentry

  Joseph and Ollokot were gone off to butcher some cattle they had not managed to bring across the river. In the meantime, the unrest grew. Yellow Bull, a noted warrior, collected a war party of seventeen members and rode off on yet another raiding party against the whites. On June 14 and 15, this group carried on the bloodletting and pillaging of the first, killing or wounding more than a dozen white people as the war party raided along the Salmon River.

  On this raid, Raven did not go, but the fires of trouble he and his friends had started now roared unchecked across the Northwest. Fearing retaliation by white soldiers, councils were called and groups of nontreaty Nez Perce began to move to a safer location because they knew that One-Arm Howard would soon hear of the trouble and take action.

  Bear and some of Joseph’s other noted warriors, were hard-pressed to keep the rest of the band together and at peace until Joseph and Ollokot returned. In the meantime, the terrified whites had barricaded themselves into a stockade at Slate Creek or hurried to Mount Idaho, a fairly large settlement, and sent to Fort Lapwai for help.

  Joseph and his brother reacted with horror when they returned to Tepahlewam. Everything Joseph had tried to do was lost now, Bear told Willow regretfully. All the bands had scattered for safety except Joseph’s, because the Wallowa had been waiting for his return. The treaty Nez Perce, who had been visiting their friends and relatives among the nontreaty Indians, hurried back to their reservations so that they would not be caught up in the trouble when the avenging white soldiers should attack.

  Looking Glass, who, like Joseph, did not want to chance opposing General Howard, took his band and moved to Clear Creek. White Bird and Too-hool-hool-zote went to a large cavern on Cottonwood Creek to camp. Only Joseph’s band was left to face the soldiers.

  When Joseph returned, he knew there was no answer except to move his people quickly. The younger warriors sobered up and returned, some ashamed but some defiant. Raven moved to his friend Pony’s lodge and had nothing to do with his brother.

  For two days, Joseph and his people struggled to get their precious horses and cattle across the raging Snake River. In spite of all Bear and the other warriors could do, fine horses were washed away and drowned, baby colts and calves were lost in the angry torrent when they were not strong enough to survive the crossing. Other possessions, food and tipis, were lost in the icy water. Only the hardiness of the people and the fast thinking of the warriors saved some of the children and old ones from drowning as they built boats made of bullhide and crossed.

  At least at this point, Willow thought as she got into a boat, Bear and Raven were too busy helping others survive to fight about her. It was not good for brothers to be enemies. She had no possessions to worry about, but she had been relieved to find out Raven had her novel in his possession. She wrapped that in a scrap of oilcloth so it wouldn’t get wet in the crossing. She could use it to teach her eager young students. The hope of the tribe was in its children, she thought as she held Cub, with Atsi next to her in the boat.

  Rainbow. Rainbow had still not shown up. Now as the boat started across, Willow put her arm around the little girl and the toddler and shouted, “Where is his mother? Have you heard from her?”

  The old grandmother shook her head. “We do not know; but this often happens.”

  “Maybe she will catch up with us,” Willow comforted, but the sadness in the old woman’s eyes told her that, she, too, had guessed where Rainbow might be. There was no time to think of that now. The cold spray of the rushing water splashed Willow’s face and the roar drowned out babies’ cries. The skin boat hit a boulder and the old woman fell over the side. Willow got a glimpse of her wrinkled face in the torrent and reached for her, but Bear dove off his swimming horse, fighting the current.

  There was nothing Willow could do but watch, her heart beating hard as she clutched her book and the children to her. The old woman seemed resigned to being swept away as she waved Bear off, but he shook his head, swimming strongly with powerful arms. Then he caught her! They went under in the dark, cold water and Willow gasped, heard moans around her, but they surfaced again and the people cheered. “See the brave warrior! With men like that, how can we not win against the whites?”

  The current held the pair, sweeping them along. They weren’t going to make it after all, Willow realized. If only she knew how to swim. She looked around for Raven. He rode a swimming Appaloosa upstream. His handsome face had gone pale as he watched. “Raven!” she screamed. “Raven, help!”

  Even as he hesitated, fear on his face, two other warriors dived in to help. With Bear’s strong swimming, they dragged the old woman onto a log and someone threw a rope to the rescuers.

  Willow let out her breath sharply. She hadn’t realized she had been holding it all that time. She was wet and cold from the icy water, even though it was the month of June. Her boat made it the rest of the way across the current where already people were wrapping the old woman and her rescuers in blankets. Willow helped some women build a fire, her hands shaking, both with fear and chill.

  War Paint, Bear’s Appaloosa stallion, struggled ashore downstream and immediately returned to his beloved master. Other livestock weren’t so lucky. Even though it was madness and the tiny colts and calves didn’t stand a chance in the strong current, they had to cross. Willow closed her eyes against the sight of frantic mares and cows looking for babies that faltered, crying out pitifully as they were swept away and drowned or crushed against the jagged rocks. Willow closed her eyes against the sight and cursed the government and the white settlers for their selfishness, their unreasonable demand to move the people during spring floods.

  Hours passed and finally, all that were left of the livestock were on the other side of the torrent with the wet and weary people. Willow built fires, cooked food, doing what she could to comfort and feed the old ones and children. Bear was too busy to talk to her, helping some of the others gather up the scattered and panicked livestock.

  She saw Raven standing all alone, staring at the rushing river. Something about his slumped shoulders made her go over to him. “It’s all right,” she said in a gentle voice. “I can’t swim, either.”

  “But I can.” He turned and looked at her, his face tortured.

  Willow gasped. “And you didn’t come to help—?”

  “It isn’t what you think.” He looked away. “I didn’t mean to watch without helping.”

  “Then, why—?”

  “Because I’m a coward.” He slumped down on a boulder, his voice bitter with defeat. “Bear is right. I’ll never be a great warrior; I always flee while he does the heroic thing. My people laugh at me behind my back.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true.” He seemed so desperate, she had to comfort him.

  “It is true. It’s happened before. Do you know how Bear got those scars?” He looked up at her and he seemed so very young; so tortured.

  “You don’t need to tell—”

  “I wounded a great grizzly and it came after me. As always, I ran and led it straight to our mother who heard my shout. Bear killed it with only his knife, but not before . . .” His face grimaced and he closed his eyes at the memory. “I don’t blame you for choosing Bear, Willow. He is a brave man; any woman would want to be his woman.”

  She put her hand on his shoulder. “I have faith in you,” she whispered. “Raven, you will yet show courage. Someday you will sing a warrior’s song in battle and everyone will tell tales of your bravery, your sacrifice.”

  Her words seemed to comfort him a little. “If you have faith in me, perhaps it may yet be so.”

  “I wish you and your brother would renew your friendship.”

  Raven shook his head. “He won’t forgive me for the trouble I have caused the tribe; I can’t forgive him for stealing my woman.”

  “Raven, look at me.” When he looked up at her, she said, “Bear really tried to be honorable, but I wanted him; it isn’t his fault.”

  He didn’t say anything and she
left him there to think. If this troubled young man could not learn to like himself, she was not sure what would happen to him. And she was not sure she and Bear could ever find happiness until this feud between two brothers ended.

  There was another river to cross, the Salmon, and it, too, ran swift and cold. Again they lost livestock and some of their precious few possessions, swept away by the rushing water. However, at least the most difficult part of the journey was behind them and they were ahead of General Howard’s deadline.

  Hope began to build in Willow’s heart as she pitched her tipi and cooked fresh-caught fish. Raven and Bear were finally at least speaking to each other, even though the atmosphere was strained and awkward. Eventually, Raven will get over this attraction with me, she thought, and find a woman of his own.

  Of course this was no time for courting. All anyone could think of was surviving this move to the tiny spot the government had allotted them; them, the Nez Perce, the People, who had been used to having thousands of miles of land to roam as wild and free as the wolves and the wind.

  That night, Joseph called some of his seasoned warriors together to council, Bear among them. When Bear returned to sit next to Willow before their fire, his face was grim.

  Her man. Her heart ached for him with all his heavy responsibilities. Willow put her hand on his arm. “What is it?”

  He put his arm around her and she lay her face against the soft buckskin of his shirt. “Joseph hopes to meet with One-Arm, smooth things over.”

  “Will that mean turning over the guilty ones?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Raven stepped out of the brush just then, his shadow thrown across them in the moonlight. “You’d turn me over to the whites?”

  Bear looked up at him a long moment as Willow watched and winced at the tension between the two. “I would expect you to have enough honor to surrender.”

  “You speak of honor! I was not even invited to the council fire tonight.”

  Willow said, “Please, Raven, isn’t there enough trouble already?”

  Before he could answer, Bear said, “Little brother, I yet have faith that you will bring honor to our family.”

  “I am sick of listening to you bleat about bravery!” Raven snapped.

  “It is not just bravery,” Bear tried to reason with him, “it is simiakia, that inner pride of manhood. You must have that to feel good about yourself. I—”

  There was a sound of galloping horses, the whine of bullets flashing through the darkness. Before Willow could react, both braves grabbed for her, pulling her to the safety of the ground, both protecting her with their arms. Already, people were dashing from tipis, shouting with excitement, dogs barking as the running horses of the ambushers faded away into the darkness of the June night.

  Joseph came out of his lodge and looked around as armed warriors hurried to the camp’s perimeters.

  Bear stood up slowly, looked down at Raven. “At least we were of one thought on Willow.”

  Willow sat up, brushing the dirt and twigs from her buckskin dress. Both men’s emotions were in their eyes for all the world to see. Raven loved her as much as his older brother did. In fact, if she had never met Bear, she might have fallen in love with Raven. As it was, there could never be another man in her heart as long as he lived.

  Chief Joseph, accompanied by Ollokot, looked around the camp, asking if anyone were hurt. Then he came over to Bear’s fire and ignored Raven completely. “Feelings in the white settlement are running high. No one was hurt this time, but now I fear to camp here until I get to talk to Howard.”

  Bear sighed. “Perhaps you are right; perhaps we would be better off to move our camp farther away.”

  Joseph nodded. “We go then to rendezvous with the other nontreaty bands; there is safety in numbers.”

  Ollokot said, “And where from there?”

  Joseph pursed his lips, considering. “Bear, what think you on this subject?”

  Bear knelt and scratched in the dirt with a stick, thinking. Willow glanced at Raven, humiliated for him because neither Joseph nor Ollokot acted as if he were even visible. Like Sydney Carton in her favorite novel, she thought, no one thought he was of any worth or that he had any honor at all.

  Finally, Bear said, “After we reunite all the nontreaty bands, what about moving the camp to Lamotta, White Bird’s campsite?”

  “Tukug.” Ollokot nodded that he agreed. “It’s near the junction of the Salmon River and White Bird Creek, so there’s plenty of water for our livestock.”

  “And,” Bear began to sketch in the dirt, “there’s a canyon, a site protected by a series of ridges and hills. Salmon River runs across the back of the canyon so we could retreat across that if necessary.”

  “We will do this thing,” Joseph agreed, his dark face somber in the moonlight. “However, I still hope to talk with One-Arm Howard. Perhaps when he returns from his march down the Columbia River, he will listen and know this trouble was brought on by rash, unseasoned young warriors and will calm the whites’ fears.”

  Willow glanced over at Raven and felt the humiliation on his handsome face. The boy stared at the ground, his shoulders slumped.

  Bear tossed away his stick. “We will go to the canyon then. Perhaps we can yet settle this peacefully.”

  “We leave before dawn,” Joseph said, “everyone get some sleep; we will need it.”

  On his orders, the camp began to settle down again.

  Bear looked at his brother. “Many brave men are going to die because of you and your friends. This is kapsis.”

  Even though she, too, knew it was a very bad thing, Willow felt compelled to come to Raven’s aid. “Bear, please,” Willow implored, “he didn’t mean—”

  “Tananisa!” Raven swore. “Woman, you do not have to come to my defense! I am determined that if there are any battle honors won before this is settled, they will be hanging from my war shield. I will make you sorry that you chose the wrong warrior.”

  “Don’t swear before my woman,” Bear snapped. “I—”

  “En’mkinikai!”

  Willow blinked, shocked that he was out of control enough to tell his older brother to go to hell, but Raven had already turned and stalked away to find his friends, ending the discussion.

  Bear stared after him, deep regret in his dark eyes. “He is my brother and I feel responsible for the trouble he has caused.”

  “You shouldn’t, dear one,” Willow soothed, reaching to touch his rugged face. “A man must take responsibility for his own actions.”

  “The trouble with Raven is that he’s not a man; he’s a boy who doesn’t ever seem to grow up.”

  She wanted to point out that it was partly Bear’s fault, for overprotecting his brother; decided to remain silent. This terrible feud between the two was because of her and none of the trio would ever be happy until it was resolved.

  They went into their lodge and lay down, but neither slept, both with their thoughts on tomorrow. Silent in his need, Bear reached for her and they made tender, gentle love as if to comfort each other for the ordeal that lay ahead. Bear soon dropped off to sleep. However, Willow couldn’t sleep. She lay staring into the fire, aware of the scent of smoke and the sound of Bear’s gentle breathing. She hadn’t meant to, but she’d probably brought even more trouble to the Nez Perce by coming out here. No doubt, Reverend Harlow would be in a fury, urging General Howard to attack. If Chief Joseph couldn’t parlay and bring peace to the area, a terrible bloodbath might be waiting them tomorrow at the canyon. The Nez Perce would have no choice but to throw down the bloody lance if the soldiers showed the rifle. That meant war, and Bear was a war leader. Tomorrow, or the next day or the next week, the man she loved might die!

  Thirteen

  On the evening of June 15, General Howard called Captain Perry and Lieutenant Warton in for a meeting at Fort Lapwai. “At ease, men.”

  Billy looked at the agitation on the one-armed general’s face. Evidently, someone had brought Ho
ward word of the Indian outbreak the moment he returned from his journey down the lower Columbia River.

  “What is going on?” Howard demanded. “I leave, expecting to return to find the nontreaty Nez Perce moving onto their reservation. Instead, I find a full-scale Indian war about to erupt and a bunch of settlers along the Salmon River killed or burnt out.”

  Lieutenant Warton looked over at Captain Perry, who nodded at him to answer. “Well, sir, with your permission, there’s been killings, a bunch of drunken young warriors—”

  “I already know that, Lieutenant.” General Howard stroked his beard. “What I want to know is, what brought all this on?”

  “They’re just savages,” Billy said dismissively. “You can’t expect much.”

  The general frowned as if that explanation were too simple. “And?”

  “Besides all you’ve heard, the Reverend Harlow has been murdered by them and his ward has been carried off or brutally slaughtered.”

  “Well, now,” Captain Perry said, “we don’t really know what happened there.”

  “Begging the captain’s pardon,” Billy said coldly, “but Harlow was found murdered on his own parlor floor, and the young lady is missing. There’s traces of blood, so she’s probably dead.” In his mind, he saw a bunch of virile Indian bucks using Willow for their pleasure. His groin ached at the image and Billy became angry all over again at the thought he’d never gotten to take the beautiful woman himself.

  “Hmm.” General Howard went to the window and stared out, lost in thought a long moment. “Washington will be on my neck and asking questions if this turns into a full-fledged Indian war.”

  “Yes, sir,” Captain Perry agreed.

  The general turned and looked at them. “I had hoped to solve this peacefully; and we still might, if I can just get the Nez Perce on that reservation.”

  “With the general’s permission,” Billy said, “I think we ought to send out an expedition; punish those bloodthirsty savages.”