Song Of The Warrior

by Georgina Gentry

  “Lieutenant,” the older man said, looking at him, “just how much action did you see in the Southern Rebellion?”

  Billy felt the color rise to his cheeks. He started to lie, then realized that General Howard had probably seen Billy’s records. “Well, none, sir; I came into the service after the war was over, but I don’t see what that’s got to do with—”

  “It has everything to do with it.” General Howard sat down at his desk, put his one hand on his Bible as if for comfort. “I’ve seen death and suffering; I’d rather not see any more, but I have my duty.”

  Perry cleared his throat. “Have you heard from President Hayes? or the War Department?”

  “I expect to any day now.” General Howard leaned back in his chair, looking weary. “Settlers hereabouts are yelling ‘massacre,’ but I still have hopes of putting the Nez Perce on their reservation and keeping them there with as little bloodshed as possible.”

  Billy gritted his teeth and brushed a lock of hair from his eyes. He wanted bloodshed. He might win a medal or two if he managed to kill some Injuns. Ladies always liked medals. While he deeply regretted not getting the chance to bed the beautiful Willow, the revenge and the medals would dazzle other pretty women enough to lower their guards.

  General Howard said, “Captain, there aren’t that many of the nontreaty Nez Perce, so this shouldn’t be that big a job. I’ll send Captain Trimble and Lieutenant Theller, too. Take two troops of the First Cavalry, some of the Twenty-first Infantry, a few scouts, and go after Chief Joseph’s people. If you can, do it without bloodshed.”

  “And if I can’t?” The handsome young officer looked pained.

  “We have our duty,” General Howard said, “and we follow orders.”

  Billy grinned in anticipation. Injuns were cowards; he was sure of it. He looked forward to killing a few. What heroic stories he would tell about his exploits back East. Rich, fashionable beauties would hang on his every word.

  Captain Perry came to attention, saluted. “Sir, when do we leave?”

  “Tonight. Take a pack train of supplies and some Indian interpreters. If they’ll surrender, let them. Joseph doesn’t strike me as the kind who wants to fight a battle he knows he can’t win. He cares more than that for his people.”

  The two young officers saluted and left the general’s office. If the column rode hard, Billy thought, they would make contact in a day or two. The pretty squaws would be spoils for the winners; though none as lovely as Willow. There were also those fine horses and maybe he’d finally learn the secret of the legendary Nez Perce gold.

  The army unit rode out that night. The spring rains had made the trail both muddy and slick, Billy thought with a grimace. This sitting a horse, getting a sore butt chasing across the wilderness where no ladies could see and admire his uniform was not nearly so glorious as riding in a parade.

  With little rest, they rode most of the night and were back in the saddle early. By now, Billy could barely sit his horse and was so out of sorts, he answered only in grunts. It was a pleasant enough June day, except for the mud, the smell of sweating horses, and the grumbling of the troopers around him.

  By late afternoon, there was another scent. Billy rode up next to Captain Perry and stood up in his stirrups, stared at the horizon. “Smoke; I smell smoke.”

  Before the captain could answer, Deek Tanner and a handsome Shoshoni Indian scout galloped back to them, their horses lathered and blowing. The Shoshoni were old enemies of the Nez Perce. The warrior pointed wordlessly toward the distant horizon, and Deek cursed as he reined in and wiped the sweat from his scarred forehead. “Look over there; damned bloody bastards!”

  Billy strained his eyes and sniffed again. A wisp of smoke curled faintly against the pale blue sky of late afternoon. “Fire, all right,” he said, nodding. “They’ve set some settler’s cabin or haystack ablaze.” For the first time, a trace of uneasiness crossed Billy’s soul.

  Captain Perry sighed with weariness. “We’re only a few miles out of Grangeville. We’ll rest overnight, reassess the situation tomorrow. These men and horses are bone tired.”

  “Sounds like a good idea to me, sir.” Billy grinned and winked at Deek. With any luck, maybe they could send the Shoshoni scouts out looking for Joseph’s band while the white men enjoyed themselves in town for a couple of days.

  However, just a few miles on, the troop met a party of armed settlers who told them the Nez Perce had crossed Camas Prairie and were believed to be near where the tribe usually camped by the Salmon River on their annual buffalo hunting trips. These armed, angry men insisted that the Indians would attempt to cross the river and escape if Captain Perry didn’t move fast.

  Billy tried to argue that the column was weary, but the armed and angry civilians held more influence. Captain Perry found himself agreeing with the irate citizens that after a little rest and food in Grangeville, the cavalry would again take to the trail, ride all night if need be, so as to stop the Nez Perce before they crossed the river and escaped.

  The settlers nodded, turned, and rode back toward the settlement.

  Deek pushed his stained hat back on his tangled hair. The fading light made his scarred skull gleam horribly in the light. “But, Captain, dag-nab it, these horses and men are so tired, they can barely move!”

  He looked toward Billy for agreement. “He’s right, sir, we can’t ride all night and attack in the morning without any rest. The troopers were expecting to spend the night in Grangeville—”

  “Lieutenant Warton,” Captain Perry snapped, “did you take a good look at those armed settlers who just rode out of here?” He nodded toward the disappearing backs of the men riding away.

  “Well, yes, sir, but—”

  “If the Indians manage to escape, those settlers will be mad as hell and they’ll let General Howard know it. Then he’ll call me on the carpet. Do I make myself clear?”

  Billy sighed and nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ll have the sergeant pass the word we’ll be riding all night to attack about dawn.”

  Deek scratched his beard and swore. “The army ain’t done anything this stupid since almost exactly one year ago, when ol’ Custer rode into the Little Big Horn Valley and didn’t come out.”

  “This is going to be different,” Captain Perry assured him. “Those were warlike Cheyenne and Sioux braves; these are Joseph’s peaceful Nez Perce.”

  “I wouldn’t be too sure of that.” Deek spat tobacco juice on the ground next to his lathered horse. “This has all the makin’s of a disaster!”

  Willow had never been so weary as she was now, helping with small children, cooking food for many people. The strain was taking its toll on everyone. At least they were settled in a good campsite near the river. Perhaps the army would not pursue them farther. She and Bear could be happy together anywhere if there was only peace and a little normalcy.

  She and the old grandmother cleaned camas bulbs to be steamed with the fresh fish and wild berries. Plump little Atsi came to her, leading Cub, and trailed by the other children. “Are there to be no more lessons?”

  Willow started to tell her that it was out of the question, but the children looked so bereft. “Well, I suppose we could work on our letters; it wouldn’t hurt anything.”

  “Good!” The old grandmother looked up from her labor. “It will keep the little ones rounded up and out of our way while the other women work.”

  Little Cub peeped shyly from behind his aunt’s skirt and smiled. Without thinking, Willow held out her arms and he ran into them. She hugged him, wondering if they would ever see his mother again. Willow hoped someday to have a little boy just like Wolf. “All right, gather the children and find a shady place to sit; I’ll get my book.”

  With a glad cry, the children scattered. Bear strode up just then and grinned. “You do well, Willow. I think now you are right; someday they will need the white man’s knowledge. Times are changing.”

  “I hope they don’t change too much,” she said. “I love the fre
edom of the Nez Perce life. If only . . .” She didn’t finish. Maybe the trouble with the army could yet be solved.

  She got her worn copy of A Tale of Two Cities and went to join the children in the shade of the tree. Somewhere, a baby cried. Joseph’s and Ollokot’s wives both had new babies and there were many expectant women in the tribe. Although they had traveled without complaint, Willow knew they, too, longed for a peaceful place where they could live without trouble and raise their children.

  “Now, is everyone ready?” Small dark heads nodded eagerly and she sat down. Immediately, Atsi moved close to her and the toddler crawled into her lap. “I will write a letter in the dirt and you will copy it. Then I will put the letters together to make a word. Someday, you will be able to read many words.”

  They worked awhile, the small, serious faces watching her intently. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Raven loitering nearby. Her heart went out to him; knowing he hadn’t meant to cause so much trouble. However, she pretended not to see him because she knew that once she took note of him, his pride would force him to walk away. She wasn’t sure her beloved husband could ever be happy as long as there were hard feelings between the two brothers. Willow felt responsible for that.

  “Read now some of the story,” Atsi urged.

  “All right,” Willow agreed. “Someday, you will be able to read this book yourself, and maybe by then, I will have books for everyone.”

  The children chortled with pleasure. As Willow opened the book, she noticed Raven had moved even closer so as not to miss a single word.

  So there, under a tree in the Idaho wilderness, for children who might not have a place to sleep tomorrow, Willow read a few pages of the story, stopping now and then to translate some of the words they had not yet learned. Watching their small brown faces transformed by her magic, she took them back to a time a hundred years ago when another people in a faraway place tried to find happiness, love, and freedom.

  When she paused finally, weary with the reading, even Raven forgot himself. “What happens next?” he asked.

  Willow smiled and patted little Cub who had drifted off to sleep in her lap. “You’ll all have to come back tomorrow to find out.”

  There were moans of disappointment. Willow glanced up at the sun, now low on the horizon, and closed the book. “We have been sitting here a long time,” she announced, “and we all have other things to do.”

  “You will continue the story tomorrow, won’t you?” Atsi implored.

  “Yes, every time I get a chance, we’ll all gather and I’ll teach you. Each time, I’ll read more of the story and what happens to Lucy, her husband, Charles Darnay, and Sydney Carton.”

  The children scattered regretfully. Raven kept his distance, watching her. He was still in love with her, she saw it in his handsome, troubled face. The time was not yet, but sooner or later, he and his big brother would make peace and then Raven would be a proud uncle when she gave her beloved a son.

  He nodded to her, half ashamed, half as if making a gesture of friendship, then disappeared into the interior of the camp.

  Now if only the army would leave them alone and let the Nez Perce live in peace, Willow thought. Was it possible?

  About dusk, a lathered horse galloped into the camp, carrying one of Joseph’s scouts. He swung off his horse, hurried to the big tipi where the leaders were gathered to smoke the pipe and discuss future plans.

  After a few minutes, the meeting in the big lodge broke up and men came out talking excitedly. Her heart quickened with dread. It must be bad news, she thought. Bear came out of the lodge, talking with Joseph and Ollokot. Bear joined her at their fire, his face grim.

  “What is it, my love?”

  “There are troops coming.”

  She felt her heart sink. He must have seen her expression in the firelight, because he said, “There’s no reason you must stay. You could ride into that town, tell them you’ve been held captive—”

  “That’s not true!” she protested. “That would cause you much trouble—”

  “But it would protect you,” Bear said. “Then you could still return to the fort and marry Lieutenant Warton with the Reverend Harlow’s blessings.”

  “Don’t even talk like that.” She was angry with him and heartsick over the way things were going.

  “Willow, it isn’t going to be easy from here on out; I can feel it in my bones. I’d like you to be safe—”

  “I am Nez Perce.” She drew herself up proudly. “I would not flee like a frightened rabbit while other women and children stay here to face the bluecoats.”

  He reached and put the tip of his finger under her chin, turned her face up so he could stare into her eyes a long moment. “My green-eyed woman,” he whispered. “All this time, I have thought that in your heart, if it came time to prove it, you would go with your white heritage.”

  “So now you know.” She smiled up at him and put her hand on his big one.

  He hesitated. “Something else . . .”

  She waited. “What is it?”

  “Now that we may be going to war, it is bad wyakin, bad medicine for a brave on the war trail to sleep with a woman; it is one of our taboos.”

  The thought of not making love to him was devastating to her. She hadn’t realized how much she had grown to like those hot, passionate nights in his arms. “Are you telling me you will not make love to me?”

  “It is harder on me than you,” he said. “You are like a magic thing; I think of nothing but your kisses and your soft body when I am not with you. A warrior must keep his mind on his fighting and you would drain my power. It is the Nez Perce custom.”

  She nodded soberly. “I understand. Very well, then, we will not make love again until this has all been decided and we are safe and free.”

  “Besides, you may already be making a son for me.” He smiled and reached to brush a wisp of hair from her face.

  The thought cheered her. “I would like that. Only one thing would make me happier; for you and your brother to become friends again.”

  Bear looked regretful as he stared into the coming night. “I hope Raven will get over this and we will once more be friends.”

  She nodded and returned to preparing food. The camp was settling down for the night. Here and there, a dog barked or a horse snorted, but mostly, besides the summer insects on a warm June night, it was quiet. “When do the warriors think the troops will get here?”

  Bear shrugged. “They have been riding too long. If they have any sense, they will stop and rest their horses and their men overnight. If they do that, the soldiers will be here sometime maybe when the sun is past midday tomorrow. By that time, we will be across the Salmon River and gone.”

  “In that case,” Willow said, “you need rest, too.”

  They ate and went to their lodge, but Bear took his blanket and laid down on the other side of the tipi. He must not make love to her, Willow thought in resignation, but she lay awake with tears in her eyes long after she heard his gentle breathing. She yearned to cross that space, crawl into his arms, at least get him to kiss and embrace her. Would they be able to stop at that? Just thinking of the taste of his kisses made her pulse quicken. Oh, she dare not risk destroying his wyakin. If he were killed in battle because she had brought him bad luck, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself. She loved him so much.

  She thought of Raven, estranged from his brother and staying now with his friends. It would be sad if one of the brothers was killed in battle before they made their peace. The survivor would not be able to live with himself. Somehow, she would help them mend this rift. Eventually, maybe Raven would find another woman he could love and forget about Willow.

  It was a long time before she dozed off and then she dreamed that she was in Bear’s arms, safe and warm while he kissed her, stroked her body, and made passionate love to her. She dreamed she was making him a baby and how proud he was of her swelling belly. Yes, it would all work out so well. Willow dreamed that it was mor
ning and they were packing their lodge, moving out before the soldiers came. It would be such a joke on the soldiers when they came to White Bird Canyon, all ready to fight and discovered the Nez Perce were gone.

  A coyote howled. Now why would a coyote be howling in broad daylight as the Nez Perce happily packed up their camp?

  It howled again. The bright, happy dream began to fade from her mind, though she struggled to hang onto it. It was the fault of that damned coyote; why did it howl? It made no sense . . . no sense. . . .

  She came awake with a start, sat bolt upright in her blankets, and glanced around. It was still night, but across the tipi, Bear’s blankets were empty. In the darkness, the faint howl of a coyote echoed. A coyote call; a scout’s signal. Oh, no.

  Before she could move, Bear came into the lodge, reaching for his lance and shield. “The scouts report in. The soldiers rode all night.”

  She wanted to scream and cry, but she could only stare up at him a long moment as the reality sunk in. “We-we’ll have to fight?”

  He nodded, still gathering up his weapons. His face was taunt, grim. “See what you can do to help with the children. We hope to fight them up in the canyon, keep them from ever reaching this camp.”

  Willow came to her feet, hearing the shouts and confusion outside as the warriors prepared to ride out. In her mind, she saw burning tipis and screaming women running in panic. “And if you fail?”

  His face mirrored tragic reality in the firelight. “If we fail, the bluecoats will hit this camp about dawn!”

  Fourteen

  “Damn you, put out that pipe!” Deek Tanner snarled as he reached to knock it from Lieutenant Warton’s hand.

  “Why, you dirty white trash—”

  “Hush!” Deek whispered. “Shut up and listen!”

  A coyote howled on a nearby ridge and Deek shivered though the night was warm. No animal had made that sound.

  Now the callow young officer reined in his horse next to Deek, listening. In fact, the whole cavalry column had paused, its sweating, weary horses jingling their bridles, stamping their hooves. The slump-shouldered men looked so tired, they were almost reeling in their saddles. Everyone had paused in the darkness to listen.