Lakota Flower

by Janelle Taylor

  The astonished War Eagle asked, “How can Agent Twiss and War Chief Harney command us to leave our land when the edges of our territory were chosen by the white leaders who made the Long Meadows Treaty four circles of the seasons past? Is this a trick to steal our lands? If all Lakotas move and surrender these grounds, even for the passing of one season or less, many whites and bluecoats will cover them as flood waters. It will be a long and bloody fight to push them out and regain them.”

  Wind Dancer, Rising Bear, and Nahemana had been present at that “Big Council” near Fort Laramie in September 1851 where ally and enemy nations gathered in one enormous group to hear the army’s proposal for peace, to assess their strengths and weaknesses, and to see which friends and which foes voted to either accept or refuse their offer. None of the five men had forgotten that two of their fiercest enemies had not attended; nor had some of their allies; so the Laramie Treaty had not prevented all aggression upon other tribes, soldiers, settlers, or passing emigrants. Even some who had signed the agreement had not honored it.

  Since the whites had demanded and selected one chief to represent and sign for all Lakotas—Brave Bear of the Brules, who was now dead, slain by Grattan in a foolish dispute over a strayed and slaughtered cow—Rising Bear had not put his mark to the paper and had not agreed to their terms, their ridiculous demands; nor had he or his band accepted any of the annuities given in exchange for a vow of peace with all other Indians and with all whites, compensations that were too often of inferior quality and lesser amounts than promised.

  Yet, their own band had lived and hunted in their assigned territory and had fought only in defense or retaliation for evil deeds committed by enemies of either skin color. They had not leaned toward large and violent warfare until they were given no choice following Grattan’s “massacre” and the raids and slayings by certain Brules and a few small Oglala bands, for which all Lakotas were being blamed and punished, despite knowing the truth from Cloud Chaser’s glorious deeds last summer.

  After those memories had galloped through each man’s mind, Wind Dancer answered for the others, “What you say is true, Wanbli, so we must soon battle them, for they are sure to challenge and attack us.”

  Rising Bear added, “Our council talked and voted after we were given those words. As with our best allies, we will wait to learn what their war chief will do when we do not abandon our lands as ordered. We fight only if he attacks us. While we wait, we will prepare for defense and assault.”

  War Eagle asked for clarity, “If the soldiers attack only those to blame for the deeds of the Brules and the few Oglalas who live among them, will we fight with them as allies or will we honor the old truce?”

  Rising Bear said, “Only the Great Spirit knows and sees all, my son. We will follow His command when He sends it to our shaman.”

  Nahemana told them, “I will go into the sacred hills alone to pray and to seek a vision to learn if the Great Spirit is ready to reveal His plans to me. On the next sun, I will prepare myself in the sweat lodge. When the second sun rises, I will leave. After I return, I will speak with Two Feathers and I will tell you of that talk and of my vision.”

  “That is good, Wise One,” the chief said, and his three sons nodded in accord. “We will gather and speak again after Nahemana returns to us.”

  Wind Dancer stood and said, “It is time for the evening meal. I must return to my family. Dewdrops will be eager to hear the news. She will be happy our brother is safe and the white girl was brought back to our camp.”

  As Cloud Chaser also rose from his sitting mat to head home, he said, “As is Dawn, for Caroline is much help to her and with our son. Do not worry, Father, for I will show courage and patience in the conflict with Two Feathers. I will not allow him to provoke me to fight or to quarrel harshly before our people. I will treat him as if I do not see or hear him, or I will smile and laugh as if he jests when he attacks me with bad words.”

  “That is good and wise and cunning, Cloud Chaser, and I thank you.”

  War Eagle, who remained seated in his family’s abode, said, “I will do the same as my brother with our cousin. We must not allow his evil to flow over us as a flood and drown us.”

  As Rising Bear glanced from man to man, he smiled and said in a voice made husky with strong emotion, “There is much pride and love and joy in my heart for my three sons. Together you will guide and protect our people during the dark suns ahead, as will the Great Spirit and our shaman.”

  During the evening meal while dusk settled in on that area, Cloud Chaser related the grim news to Caroline.

  She stopped eating to question him further. “How can the army order you off your lands or justify an attack on the Red Shields and other bands who aren’t to blame for what those … other Indians did?” she asked, relieved she didn’t spit out “bloody renegades” in her moment of distress. Besides her grave concern for these people and for War Eagle, she was worried about David and other innocent whites who would be ensnared by a vicious war.

  “To the whites and their government, an Indian is an Indian, an enemy, and we are all at fault for troubles in our territory. The Indian agent, the commanders at Forts Laramie and Kearny, and the white government in Washington have been told what happened here and who is to blame for the raids and retribution strikes. They also have been told that in some situations, the guilty ones were whites dressed as Indians. One white gang was captured while committing a deadly robbery on a stage and they had proof that gang was responsible for robbing and slaying soldiers on another day.” He knew those facts to be accurate, as he had been involved in those incidents and had written those informative but futile letters last summer, though he did not reveal those events to her.

  “The truth does not matter to them; for if they accept it, they have no justifiable reason to make such demands on all Lakotas or to attack any band at random. As for the raids and slayings done by the Brules, many had just cause, as with the lethal assault on Lieutenant Grattan and his troop at the end of last summer.”

  Caroline had studied history and geography during her school years. She had read every book she could get her hands on and had learned the historical events affecting her country and others around the world. She was familiar with the topics of conquest and subjugation, the greed or need for freedom and expansion, for seemingly unstoppable progress. America wanted this land from ocean to ocean, from Canada to Mexico. The Indians were situated in the near center of that desire and were challenging it, so war seemed certain, just as both sides believed they were in the right. From what she had learned, the Indians were many, skilled, and resolved; but the whites far outnumbered them, had better weapons, and were determined to take control of territory they already considered theirs.

  Caroline decided that Cloud Chaser was not wrong in his suspicions and assessment of the matter. She hated to think of her brother being a party to such nefarious history, and she could not imagine David doing the kinds of things that would be required for victory over the Indians. “I’m sorry it will come to war between our peoples, Cloud Chaser, but it sounds as if you spoke the truth. I dread to see what will happen in this territory and to your band since peace is impossible. It almost makes me ashamed to be white. I suppose it makes you regret the years you lived among them. Since you did and you learned so much from and about us, don’t you realize the whites have more people and weapons than the Indians do? You will be going up against a mighty force. How can you possibly win?”

  “I have told my people and our allies the things I learned while I lived among the whites and during my journey homeward and from soldiers at the forts near our territory, as did the ten chiefs who traveled to Washington with Agent Fitzpatrick after the signing of the Long Meadows Treaty four years ago.” He did not include the eleventh chief, who was so overwhelmed and depressed by what he saw—their awesome numbers, their powerful weapons, and their “magic” possessions—that he took his life upon returning home.

  “No matter the o
dds against us or the perils we will face or the sacrifices and sufferings we might endure, does a man of honor not have to battle for what he believes is right, for what belongs to him? Does a man of honor not fight to protect his family, home, people, and lands? You are a good woman and have much honor, so would you not do and feel the same?”

  Caroline was pleased by his opinion of her, but it did not affect her honest response. “A man or woman of true honor could do no less.”

  Cloud Chaser grinned and added, “You are also a woman of courage and intelligence, for you speak wise words and feel things deeply.” There is no doubt my youngest brother knows such things and is drawn to you.

  As she smiled and nodded her appreciation, he changed the subject. “It is good you encountered and defeated Black Fist of the Crow. He was a fierce raider and slayer of Lakotas. The black upon his hand was the symbol of his name, one he held high and shook in warning and taunting many times in the past. You and my brother have stilled it forever, and we are grateful. Wear Black Fist’s weapon in great pride, for you earned it with your courage and cunning, and for saving War Eagle’s life.”

  Caroline wondered if the last part of his sentence was Cloud Chaser’s conclusion or if War Eagle had said so during the men’s meeting. “I didn’t save his life. He fought and killed his enemy.”

  “If you had not been there or you had not distracted our foe, who is to say War Eagle would still be alive? Accept the honor he has given to you, and the gratitude of our people for your brave deed.”

  Those feelings and statements surprised Caroline and made her wonder exactly what his brother had told them about the incident and her. She was certain he hadn’t mentioned their intimate lapses, nor would she. That thought reminded her to ask, “What does kawa mean?”

  A baffled Cloud Chaser replied, “To flower. Why?”

  “While we were traveling here from the grasslands, Dawn pointed to a flower and said that word. I thought it meant flower but I wasn’t sure.”

  Cloud Chaser surmised there was more behind her query than simple curiosity. Perhaps she was trying to change the subject from war or from his brother and that was the first thing to come to mind to use as a distraction. “Flower is wahca. She must have meant she had to wait for them to flower before plucking them. Many are used for dyes, medicines, and in cooking. Did she pick them while she talked to you?”

  “Yes, and put them in a pouch. I suppose she was trying to explain what she was doing but I didn’t know enough of your language by then to grasp her meaning. Thank you for clarifying it for me.” After Cloud Chaser smiled and nodded and focused his attention on the remainder of his food, Caroline’s mind translated War Eagle’s past words: To flower in the heart. Did his slip mean she had taken root in his heart like a lovely flower? Or was there a plant called heart flower, perhaps a yellow one or a blossom with that shape so he had given her a nickname or an Indian one since he had said hers was hard to pronounce? Somehow she didn’t think so, as a heart flower should be in a shade of red.

  She recalled Dawn’s genial greeting upon her return and reflected on the talk she had just shared with Cloud Chaser. Did those actions and words mean she was earning the band’s respect, even friendship? If so, how would that affect her relationship with War Eagle? Just because he found her desirable as a woman did not mean he had affection for her. Yet, she could hope and pray something special had happened between them…

  On the second day after their return, War Eagle watched his silver-haired grandfather—with the aid of a walking stick—head slowly on protesting bones into the forested foothills. He knew the shaman would continue onward until he found an elevated site with a level surface, perhaps a black boulder near a cliff’s edge, a secluded spot where he would fast, pray, and seek a sacred vision. With the aid of a peyote button in the small medicine pouch suspended around his neck and in full view of the Great Spirit, the holy man would be granted a revelation.

  War Eagle respected and was awed by Nahemana’s mystical powers. He knew the day would come when his grandfather’s weakening body would rest upon a decorated wicagnakapi built of hardwood and constructed on a lofty hill land high off the ground to protect it from scavengers. Nahemana’s body would be clad in his finest Elk Dreamer array and secured inside a buffalo hide. There it would remain until the forces of Mother Nature claimed it, as his spirit would already be with the Creator. He dreaded for that sad day to come, but it was inevitable; it was a natural part of the Sacred Circle of Life. Neither he nor his grandfather feared death, though both wanted to walk and breathe upon the earth as long as possible.

  Although he had great faith in the shaman and the Creator, War Eagle closed his eyes for a short time and prayed for Nahemana to succeed in his quest and to be safe while doing so. As soon as he finished, he wondered if the Great Spirit would reveal anything about Caroline and, if so, what would it be? What would he do if the Creator revealed that her task among them was done following the battle with Black Fist and the exposure of his cousin’s lingering evil, and she must leave? Now that he knew there was a strong bond between them, could he part with her forever? Even if he could not take her as his mate, at least she was nearby and gave him happiness. Would this be the first time in his life when he could not obey the command of his grandfather and the Great Spirit? He prayed that was not true, for he knew what defiant refusal would cost him…

  On that same day to their south, General William Harney arrived at Fort Kearny to initiate his campaign against the dreaded Sioux.

  Chapter Eight

  During the afternoon of Nahemana’s departure day, news spread fast in the camp that Chumani—beloved wife of Wind Dancer, their next chief—had gone into labor with her second child. Being a Brule from a band far away, Dewdrops did not have female family members there to help her with that arduous but thrilling event, so Winona joined Chumani in her oldest son’s dwelling to assist with the delivery and to take care of the newborn. An excited and proud Wind Dancer went to his father’s tepee to await the arrival of his next child while the men worked on their weapons and talked.

  During the night, Macha was summoned by Hanmani to help Winona, as the girl was not a wife and a mother and was unskilled with the tasks to be done. Too, Chumani’s best friend from her tribe who had joined to her husband’s best friend of the Red Shields could not come, for Zitkala was taking care of her sick daughter, who was three, the same age as Tokapa, Chumani’s son, who was with Little Turtle, his great-grandmother.

  After the two females and Cloud Chaser talked, Casmu was placed in Caroline’s care before the three left the tepee in a rush. She positioned his cradle-board close to her buffalo mat to be sure she would hear if the almost-three-month-old infant awoke and needed tending. She wondered what was happening in Wind Dancer’s abode. She also realized that Cloud Chaser and Macha had revealed great faith in her by leaving their cherished son alone in her care. Their action told Caroline they trusted her not to abandon him to escape while everyone was either distracted or asleep. That conclusion pleased her, and she vowed she would not fail in her duty to them.

  When the time came for Casmu to nurse the next morning, Macha returned long enough to feed him, cuddling and singing as she did so.

  It was obvious to Caroline from the way Macha clung to her son and from her expressions that her new friend was deeply concerned for Chumani. After she took Casmu from his mother, who kissed his face many times and stroked his head of dark hair before hurrying outside, she saw Macha whispering to Cloud Chaser beyond the entry flap before she left again and he returned to the tepee.

  Caroline tended Casmu, rewrapped him in his bundle, and secured him in the cradle-board as she had been taught to do. Cloud Chaser watched over him while she fetched fresh water and gathered wood nearby. After building a fire, she prepared their first meal of the day, dried-nut-and-berry bread called wigliun kagapi and roasted strips of deer, which Cloud Chaser had slain and butchered during the night while he was too restless to sleep.


  As she carried out her chores and later as she and Cloud Chaser ate near the fire beside the tepee and with Casmu resting close by, Caroline noticed War Eagle’s occasional glances at her, though she pretended not to see him. She admitted to herself that she could not evict him from the special rooms inside her head and heart where he had taken up residence during their enlightening journey together. She could not forget his irresistible kisses and embraces, his tender gazes and enticing tone of voice, his rescue from the violent storm and fierce Crow warrior, his gentle manner, a lack of violation and abuse by him and mistreatment by his people, his enormous appeal, his seeming desire for her. Yet, those emotions and occurrences could lead them nowhere, as the path before them was obstructed by too many uncrossable hurdles, especially for him. She could not help wondering if he was as sad and disappointed about their mismatch as she was. She also could not help wondering what he would do if the obstacles were removed by some powerful or divine force. Even if War Eagle desired her as a woman, even liked and respected her, could he ever want more from her than friendship or servitude? If so, could she give up all she was and knew to become his? No, Caroline Sims, don’t even attempt to swim in such dangerous and unknown waters, as you’re sure to drown!