Lakota Dawn

by Janelle Taylor

  Before Chase was asked to announce his choice, he stole a glance at the war chief and saw Blue Owl shake his head and scowl at his son’s display of weakness. Chase told Nahemana, “As my father and brothers did in seasons past, I do this for myself and my people to seek the Great Spirit’s blessing, guidance, and protection during the dark suns ahead. I do this to thank the Great Spirit for all He has given to me. Let it begin, Grandfather. I choose the piercing on foot.”

  Before he lay on a buffalo hide, Chase looked at Macha, read the fear and love in her eyes, and smiled encouragement. He looked at his father, and they exchanged nods of affection and resignation. He took his place, made his body rigid, and clenched his jaw to keep silent and still during what was sure to be a painful preparation.

  Nahemana used a ceremonial knife to make two small cuts on Chase’s left breast above his nipple. Blood instantly came forth and rolled downward toward his side. The shaman forced a sharp talon of an eagle’s claw through the sensitive underflesh, pulled to separate and lift the severed section, and worked a lengthy thong beneath it. He did the same on Chase’s right breast, and noticed the man did not flinch or grimace. He told Chase to stand, and after he obeyed, Nahemana secured those thongs to rawhide ropes which were attached to the cottonwood pole. He placed a peyote button in a small pouch suspended from Chase’s beaded belt, a gift from Winona on the past sun for saving Tokapa’s life. He previously had told the young man when he should chew and devour the “medicine stone” to evoke a vision. He told Rising Bear’s second son to begin his ordeal when he was ready, then told Bent Bow the same thing.

  Chase locked his gaze to sacred markings on the cottonwood pole to summon his strength and willpower to begin the agonizing task. There was no retreat now; it was onward to victory or death. He took a deep breath, backstepped until the ropes were taut, and leaned away from the pole to test the result of that action, one which must be repeated countless times to break free of those bonds. As astonishment thundered across his mind, pain shot through his chest and radiated from his arms and legs to his fingers and toes. He had known the attempt would hurt badly, but now he realized how terrible it was going to be. He heard the steady beat of the kettle drum and the chanting and praying of many people. As he began to dance sideways, halting often to yank backward in search of freedom, he blew on an eaglebone whistle from his father; and his brothers blew on theirs as they kept in step with his movements.

  Chase’s torment increased with the passing of each hour, and it was a constant struggle to endure and continue the self-inflicted ordeal. Despite intense concentration on his own challenge, he could not help but notice that Bent Bow would slacken his ropes and slow his pace to rest and to seek relief for a time, as Chase frequently encountered and passed the other man during his own circling movements. Chase also noted that Bent Bow already looked exhausted and frightened, but there was little damage to the man’s chest because he was not yanking hard enough for release. Chase, himself was giving each jerk as much effort as he could muster because he wanted to end this suffering as quickly as possible. Even so, his flesh was being stubborn, and the thongs and ropes were strong. Those severed sections had loosened and separated from his body, but both sides refused to tear apart and release their grips.

  After sunset, torches jabbed into the earth and a full moon illuminated the area. Only women with infants and young children and the most elderly people went to their tepees; all others remained to witness the culmination of this awesome event, to see who lived and succeeded, who had to halt, and who might have perished while trying to achieve victory.

  It was not long before a bleeding, frightened, and painriddled Bent Bow conceded defeat and was cut free by Nahemana. The weakened brave was taken home by a displeased and embarrassed father, against whom he was leaning; he promised he would make another attempt during the next summer’s season.

  Chase pretended he did not notice the commotion, but he was aware not only of the other participant’s difficult decision and departure, but of Two Feathers’ intense observation of him. He was certain his hostile cousin was praying he would yield to defeat or would die from this ordeal. He must not disappoint the Great Spirit, himself, his wife, his family, and his people.

  Before the bright moon was overhead, ignoring the agony and calling upon all of his strength, Chase pulled free of one imprisoning thong, sighing with relief when he did so. He refused to wipe away the sweat his arduous efforts, the summer heat, and tension had caused to form; some ran into his eyes and stung them, though that sensation was nothing compared to the salty drops which flowed into his protesting wounds and tortured them. Chase felt as if the second bond persisted in its stubborn grip more strongly now that it was alone, as if it was determined to hold fast and bring on his defeat. He had thought the work would become easier at that point; that wasn’t true and it worried him, as it became ever more apparent that his body was weakening by the hour.

  Macha watched her beloved’s struggles and prayed for his release soon. She ignored her hunger and thirst, her aching muscles and exhaustion, as she must not leave for any reason. Would he—she fretted in panic—live or die tonight?

  Chapter

  Thirteen

  Rising Bear observed the ritual with pride, love, and empathy filling his heart and mind, as he knew from experience what his son was enduring. He savored his son’s stamina, courage, and fortitude, and scolded himself for ever doubting and for hurting him. He and his people were blessed that the Great Spirit had returned him to them. Never again, he vowed, would he distrust or be ashamed of his second son.

  More time passed as Chase’s travail heightened. His legs felt trembly and weak, and he feared he might not be able to take another step soon. He feared his parched and aching throat could not send forth many more blows of the eaglebone whistle. His head spun round and round and he feared he would black out at any moment. Blood flowed down his chest, over his ribs, and soaked into his breechclout. He stumbled on a dislodged clump of grass, but recovered his balance before falling and prayed for renewed strength. He refused to halt his quest for victory, forcing himself onward step by step. He was thankful his brothers were nearby to keep him moving and conscious.

  Chase retrieved the mescal button with quivering fingers and chewed it, but his dry throat was hard pressed to swallow the tiny pieces. Shortly after he managed to do so, he began seeing colorful spots dance before his line of blurred vision, as if they also were keeping time to the drum’s beat. He saw Broken Lance extend blood-splotched arms and come forward to dance and chant with them, to offer added encouragement. Then, with the peyote’s help, visions began to flash before his mind’s eye.

  As the sun rose on a beautiful Lakota dawn, Chase felt revitalized by its warmth and touch, and freed himself of his second and last confinement. His chest ached and he was exhausted, but he also felt exhilarated, relieved, and proud to have accomplished his goal. His gaze darted to his beloved wife and he smiled at her to let her know he was all right. He sank to his knees, leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and thanked the Great Spirit for his triumph and survival. He opened his eyes and stood on wobbly legs, his gaze fusing with the shaman’s who joined him. He became aware just then that the drumming had ceased and most of the band members had returned to observe him.

  “What did the Creator reveal to you during your vision?” the shaman asked.

  Chase divulged to the man all that had been told him: “I must not change my name, as it was given to me for a purpose. I am to hide behind my cloud of white looks to dupe our foes. I am to help rid our land of ominous storm clouds in the shapes of white men and Bluecoats. There can be no real and lasting peace with them in the seasons ahead; only one powerful force can live in and control this territory: that force must be the Lakotas or they will perish forever under the white man’s grip. Trouble has already come to our land and will be revealed to us soon; after that sun, we must decide to break or honor the treaty. I choose to side with my father and ou
r people the Oglalas. I will say and do what I must for victory.”

  “He speaks wise and true, my people,” Nahemana said, “for the signs upon his body tell us such things. See how the stars, moon, and sun painted on his flesh now appear as clouds, as he was named. The lightning on his arms, legs, and chest now appear as long and sharp arrows to strike at our enemies. He has been sent to us to do great deeds for us. So it shall be.”

  Those who had remained nearby all night and those who had returned since sunrise listened, watched, and nodded or murmured concurrence.

  Macha felt as if her pounding heart would burst from the abundance of happiness, love, and pride which filled it when Chase had broken free and looked at her; those feelings had increased when he had spoken, and their people had agreed. She felt Hanmani grasp her hand and squeeze it gently, clearly experiencing those same emotions. They exchanged joyful smiles before Macha refocused her tear-filled gaze on her husband.

  With misty eyes and in a ragged voice, Rising Bear clasped both wrists with Chase’s, gazed into his eyes, and smiled. “You have shown great courage and endurance, my second son,” he said. “My heart beats with love and pride. As it does for my other sons who were your companions during this quest. Nahemana will tend your coup wounds with strong medicine. Then you must drink, bathe, eat, and sleep to regain your strength.”

  Chase nodded, his throat too dry from a lack of water and too constricted by emotion to respond verbally. He lay on the buffalo hide for Nahemana to cleanse the injuries of blood and dust and to cover them with a salve made from healing herbs. The shaman gently pressed the jagged flesh into its proper place, smeared more herbal balm over both swollen areas, and wrapped a wide band around his torso to hold the torn sections in place until they healed.

  Winona and Hanmani brought revitalizing soup and water to Chase, which he consumed with difficulty, his throat abused for hours by thirst, chanting, and whistle blowing. Hanmani whispered to him that Macha would await him in their tepee, as she needed privacy to release her long pent-up emotions.

  Wind Dancer and War Eagle helped him to the river where he washed sweat, salt, dust, and paint from his body. Afterward, they assisted him to his tepee where Nahemana gave him medicine-laced chokecherry wine to promote healing, prevent shock and fever, and to lessen his pain.

  Chase thanked his brothers again, clasped wrists with each in turn, and told them their support during the ritual had helped him succeed. Then he entered his abode and, with Macha’s aid, lay on his buffalo mat to get needed sleep, which came quickly in his depleted state.

  Macha sat beside him for a while, looking at him, cherishing him, praising his prowess in her heart, and stroking his damp hair and handsome face. She lightly trailed one fingertip along his jawline and over his prominent cheekbones. She traced his thick and dark brows, and teased her finger over his full lips and strong chin, with its tiny depression in the middle. Her gaze roamed to his bound chest, and she winced thinking of what he had endured; then she thanked the Great Spirit for sparing his life on this sun.

  She stroked her husband’s cheek once more, kissed his forehead, then left to do her chores in a cheerful mood.

  As Macha and Hanmani washed garments at the river that afternoon, Two Feathers approached them and hunkered down nearby.

  “Why do you not hunt or scout, my cousin?” Hanmani asked.

  “We hunt again on the next sun, and scouting is not my duty on this one. I come and speak with a heavy heart to both of you. There are things I do not understand. Why did you turn your eye and heart away from me and give them to Cloud Chaser?” he asked Macha.

  Macha had not expected that brazen question, so she stared at him for a moment in confusion. “My heart and eye never roamed your way, Two Feathers. I have loved and wanted Cloud Chaser as my mate since we were children. I believed he would return to us, and I waited for that sun to rise. It is the will of the Great Spirit for us to be mates.”

  “Is it, Dawn? Or does your large desire for him trick you? He has used you to harm me, for he has no love and respect for me and knew I desired you. He is cunning like the fox, bold like the bear, and fierce like the wolf. He uses you and Hanmani to help trick and betray our people.”

  “That is not true,” both women protested simultaneously.

  “It is true, and soon all will know it. When he betrays us to our enemies and is slain or banished, you will ask me to forgive you for doubting me. When he is here no more, Dawn, you will turn to me again.”

  “No, Two Feathers, I will not, for I do not love or desire you. It is wrong and cruel to speak badly of my husband and Hanmani’s brother, our chief’s son. You must fast and purify yourself in the sweat lodge and pray for forgiveness from the Creator, for He guides and protects Cloud Chaser.”

  “Before this season passes, you will not believe such things.”

  After Two Feathers left, Macha asked with a worried expression, “Why does he hate Cloud Chaser so much?”

  “I do not know, my friend, but it frightens me.”

  “Do you think he will try to slay my husband?”

  “He would not dare to do so, for my brother is Red Shield now, an honored and accepted son of our chief. But I believe he will seek to find cunning ways to hurt Cloud Chaser. Perhaps Two Feathers will seek to trick others into doubting him again, or find sly ways to make my brother appear evil. You must warn him to be wary of our cousin.”

  On the next day, Two Feathers stunned and baffled Macha, Hanmani, and a few others by joining to Sisoka, oldest daughter of Masleca, a Strong Heart Society member like Wind Dancer.

  Inside the tepee where Cloud Chaser was still resting and recovering at the insistence of his father and their shaman, the two women sat close to him and related the shocking news in whispers. It struck him the same way it had affected them, as they had told him about their talk with his cousin yesterday.

  “We saw it with our eyes and heard it with our ears, my husband: Two Feathers approached the tepee of Coyote and presented him with three horses, five buffalo hides, a beaded armband, and a new bow. He asked to make Robin his mate. Coyote and his wife were willing, as was Robin. I do not understand why she agreed, for she has many good looks and skills, and three other braves sought to join to her. She has shared rides and blanket talks with the others and listened to their flute playing; we have not seen her do so with Two Feathers. This matter is very strange.”

  “Perhaps she chose him because he, too, has many good looks and is a high-ranking warrior, and comes from a bloodline of chiefs, and is in the larger family of our chief. He is skilled, so he will be a good provider and protector.”

  “That is so, my husband, but he has not pursued her before our eyes and ears. If he had done so at other times, we would know, for Robin boasts of having many braves desire her. She is often scolded for her big pride, for she knows of her many good skills and looks.”

  “Perhaps he moved fast because he thought his loss of you stained his honor and face. Perhaps he wishes to trick others into thinking your loss does not wound him. I say it is good he turns his back to a fiery desire for my wife. If he did not do so, I would be forced to challenge him to keep away from you.”

  Macha sent Chase a playful scowl. “Your heart is too kind and pure, my husband, and your thoughts and words are too generous in his direction. Besides, a man cannot lose what he does not and can never possess. Do not trust him, for he seeks to trick all with this cunning match. He does not love Robin and he will not make her happy. She will be sad she chose him.”

  “Perhaps the Great Spirit will soften their hearts toward each other. It would be good for us if Two Feathers could find happiness, for such feelings might sway him from his hatred of me and hunger for you.”

  “Yes, love is a powerful force,” Macha murmured. “But,” she added in a grave tone, “will it remove the evil in his heart and head?”

  “Soon, my wife, we will learn that truth for ourselves.”

  “When my cousin and Ro
bin return from their mating journey, I will watch him with eagle eyes to see if I can learn the reason for his action on this sun,” Hanmani told them. “I believe as my friend does: Two Feathers cannot be trusted, and this joining is a sly trick.”

  On the fifth day after Chase began his spiritual journey in the sweat lodge, he stood at the river stroking and talking to Red as the sorrel drank and grazed on lush grass growing near its banks. He was surprised and pleased by how fast he had regained his strength and by how quickly the Sun Dance injuries were healing. The shaman had visited him each morning to put more medicine on the wounds and to change the bandage around his torso. He and Macha had eaten with his father, Winona, his sister, two brothers, Chumani, and Tokapa two nights ago. They had talked for hours about past experiences, the successful hunt so far, and the tasks which loomed ahead until they returned to their winter campsite. Yesterday, he had enjoyed visits with River’s Edge, Broken Lance, War Eagle, Swift Otter, Wind Dancer, and Red Feather. They had made plans to hunt together the following day, as he felt he was strong enough to do so.

  Chase was glad his cousin was gone, but knew Two Feathers would return soon. This was the third day since his joining, and their new tepee awaited them between those of his and her parents. As when he and Macha wed, the women had constructed the dwelling as a gift to the couple. With all of his might, he hoped marriage would change his cousin, but he doubted it would, and wondered what the man’s next aggressive act would be.

  The annual buffalo hunt had continued with everyone staying busy with their seasonal and daily chores. As if luck was with them or Divine Intervention controlled the area and its events, no enemy had approached the camp and no White hunters had been encountered again. If the latter happened, at least Chase was now armed with a copy of the treaty terms.