Chapter
Fourteen
As Macha lay down beside him and cuddled into his arms, Chase felt her tension. “Do not think of sad things, Sunshine of my heart,” he coaxed. “Think only of good and happy ones this moon and on those while I am gone.”
Macha touched the binding around his bare chest as she murmured, “It is hard to do so, my husband, when I fear for your safety and return to me. My Life-Circle will be dark and lonely without you to share it.”
Chase grasped her chin and lifted her head so their gazes could fuse. “I will always share it, my cherished wife,” he said in a tender voice.
Macha stroked his lips from side to side with the pad of her forefinger as she entreated, “Promise you will return to me.”
Chase nestled her against his naked body and wrapped his arms around her shapely frame to offer her loving comfort. He swore as confidently as he could manage, “No matter how long it takes, I will do so, for we are as one. If our camp is moved while I am away, I will find you, even if you and our people must hide from the Whites or other enemies. Wind Dancer, War Eagle, Swift Otter, River’s Edge, and Red Feather have taught me many more skills since my return to the Red Shields. We have practiced many times with bow and arrows, with hands and feet, with eyes and ears, and with knives. I have learned to use my wits and…the strong feelings within me,” he said, as he could think of no other words to explain “instinct.”
“I have asked Broken Lance to hunt for you and to protect you from harm,” he added. “Go to him for help if you need to.”
“He is the brother of Two Feathers,” she confirmed as she shifted her head and looked into his handsome face, confused by his choice.
Chase smiled and caressed her cheek as he replied in an assured tone, “That is true, but I trust him; we are cousins and friends.”
“What if the trouble comes from his brother?”
Chase locked their gazes so she could read the honesty in his. “Even so, Broken Lance will honor his word to me.”
Macha realized it would be hazardous and wrong to send him away worried and distracted, so she smiled and said, “You are sure, so I will obey.”
Chase feigned a serious expression and tone as he asked, “Will you obey in all things and ways, my wife?”
Macha was unsure of his meaning. “You are my husband; that is my duty and training. Speak of what you want me to do or say,” she asked.
Chase grinned. “If you are obedient, join your lips and body to mine.”
Macha smiled and tickled his ribs. “That task is too easy. Do you not have a harder one for me?” she teased.
In a playful mood, Chase guided her captive hand to his groin and jested, “If that is not hard enough, make it so, my tempting wife.”
“That is a task I will enjoy, my husband.”
“As will I, for love beats swiftly within my heart for you.”
“As it does in mine for you.”
Their mouths met in a heady kiss, and soon they found and seized the sweet ecstasy they had been seeking with their entire beings.
* * *
At the edge of camp, Macha waved and smiled one last time before her husband shifted in his saddle and galloped away to join his companion to confront unknown perils and challenges. She was glad no one else had accompanied them this far so they could share a final moment alone before his departure; Bent Bow had ridden ahead to give them privacy. As she turned to walk to her tepee to fetch a water bag and sling for gathering scrubwood along the riverbank for smoking meat, she noticed Two Feathers standing near a friend’s dwelling. He talked with the man, but his piercing gaze was locked on her. To be polite, she nodded a greeting to him and watched him—though his sharp gaze did not change—respond to her in like kind before turning his back to her.
After she left that location, Macha encountered Hanmani and asked her friend, “Will you do your chores with me this sun?” So your cousin will avoid me, she thought, for some reason not wanting to speak those dark words aloud.
“I was coming to seek you out, my friend, to do so. Mother tends our chores this sun so I can do Grandmother’s. Her hands and body no longer move swift and easy as they did long ago. It is sad Little Deer no longer lives in her parents’ tepee to help them. But it is good she left no mate and children behind when she was summoned to the Great Spirit.”
Macha reminded her, “When they can no longer live in their own dwelling, Nahemana and Little Turtle must move into the tepee of Strong Rock or Winona so their son or daughter can take care of them, for their seasons upon the face of Mother Earth number many.”
“That is true, Dawn. My brothers and many Strong Hearts bring them meat and hides to use, and others give them things they need, for our shaman is much loved and respected. Even so, the sun will rise when they cannot be alone to tend themselves and each other.”
“That is so, Hanmani, as it is with all people created by the Great Spirit; it is a part of each’s Life-Circle. Come. Let us work so I will not think and worry about my husband.”
Hanmani gave Macha’s hand a light squeeze of encouragement. “No matter what we do, my friend, you will worry about him. But do not fear for his life, for Wakantanka guides and protects him.”
Chase leaned against a stable post at Fort Laramie and asked the soldier with whom he had struck up a genial conversation, “I heard there was trouble here a couple of weeks ago. What happened?”
The private curried his horse as he related, “One of them Mormons passing through the area said some Indians stole his cow and he came here kicking up a fuss and wanting the Army to go fetch it for him. Lieutenant Fleming figured if he didn’t get it back and show the Indians they can’t do such things, we’d have more incidents like that and somebody’d get killed and big trouble would break out. He told Grattan to handle it for him.”
Chase didn’t ask questions or make comments as the man glanced around as if to make certain no one was within hearing range. He noted the private’s look and tone of disgust when he started talking again.
“Almost half of our garrison was out gathering wood and hay, but most of the men here volunteered to go with him. I guess they figured they’d get out of boring duties and maybe have a little fun teaching the Indians a lesson. Not me, you can bet your best boots; I ain’t no fool and I smelled trouble brewing in that foul wind. It ain’t smart to tangle with Indians if we don’t have to, and surely not over some dumb cow that strayed away. Hellfire, we were left with only ten soldiers to guard the fort, so we’re damn lucky we didn’t get attacked. ‘Course Fleming sent for the hay and wood cutters as soon as he learned about the fighting.”
“So, there was fighting?” Chase asked when the man went silent.
“Yep. Grattan and his twenty-nine men took two howitzers with them to scare the Indians into obeying him. Seems he misjudged their reaction; they showed plenty of anger and courage.”
“Did the Indians really steal that Mormon’s cow? You said something about it just straying away from him. Is that what actually happened?”
“We don’t really know the truth of it. They claimed it just walked into their camp, so they thought it was free for the taking, maybe one of them annuity cows that got loose, so it was all right for them to slaughter and eat it. Sounds like a reasonable mix-up to me, not something to go to blows over, but Grattan saw it otherwise and paid for his stupid mistake. He and his men rode into the camp, the one closest to where the Mormon claimed he was robbed. It didn’t seem to make no never mind to Grattan it was a large one, filled with Brules, Minneconjous, and some Oglalas. I guess he figured them Indians would be cowered by such a show of the all-mighty force of the Army. That was another stupid mistake. It was like he didn’t know or care them was skilled warriors he was about to tangle with. Word is the cow-shooter’s name was High Forehead and he was just visiting there. Grattan demanded the shooter and everybody who had eaten the sorry cow surrender to him to be brought here and punished. ‘Course the Indians refused, ‘ca
use they didn’t think they’d done anything wrong. Then some scared or hotheaded soldier opened fire, and some braves fired back with arrows. I guess that volley spooked Grattan, ‘cause he opened fire with the howitzers and his men blazed away with their rifles. Brave Bear, he’s the one Fitzpatrick and Mitchell appointed Head Chief for those treaty talks three years ago, he was killed; and that riled the Indians up even more.”
“I’m sure it did,” Chase concurred. “He was a wellrespected leader.”
“Spotted Tail was there, and he ain’t no man to challenge. He’s the one who probably ordered the retaliation and led the warriors into it. They took down Grattan and every soldier there in just a few minutes. Well, all except for Private Cuddy; he was wounded badly, but he was rescued by some friendlies and hauled to Bordeau’s Trading Post. Bordeau had him sent here and Cuddy told us what happened before he died, else we’d been ignorant of the whole matter, not that knowing the truth changes much.”
“But Spotted Tail and the others didn’t attack the fort, right?”
“Nope. Some other friendlies warned Fleming about the fighting and he recalled our other men pronto. I surely am glad I didn’t volunteer to go with Grattan; he was too reckless and eager to make himself look good for a transfer; and he was too ignorant about the conditions out here. He shoulda never rode into a camp that size and got himself and his men swallowed up by so many Indians. And he shoulda never taken that Lucien Auguste with him as interpreter; Auguste was drunk, and the Indians hated him for how he treated them. Cuddy couldn’t understand what he was saying to the Indians, but it made ‘em pretty mad. If you askt me, what Grattan shoulda done was give that Mormon one of our cows or one from the annuity stock, and called it a good bargain for peace.”
“But things have settled down since then, right?” Chase ventured. “I mean, I didn’t encounter any hostiles or patrols on my way here.”
“I wish I could say things are back to how they was before this mess sprung up, but they ain’t. We’re still on alert; hellfire, we hardly closed our eyes for days after that run-in. Afore it was over, a band of hostiles raided the quartermaster’s corral and took off with thirty-six horses and cattle; they also stole the mules that pulled the wagons to the Indian camp. Some of them robbed the American Fur Company downriver, if you can call taking their own annuity goods stealing. Some others raided Bordeau’s Trading Post, but Chief Little Thunder—he’s one of them Brules—he wouldn’t let them kill Bordeau and his men. As soon as we were given the word from our scouts that area was clear, we went in and collected the bodies; weren’t a pretty sight, I can tell you. We buried all of ‘em except Grattan; his body was sent by wagon to Leavenworth—I guess ‘cause he was an officer.”
“Have you caught any of the Indians involved in the shootings?” Chase asked, and saw the private shrug and scowl.
“Nope, but they’ll be captured and punished soon, mark my words.”
“What do you mean?” Chase asked, worry filling him.
“Fleming sent for help, so more men should be arriving as soon as his report reaches the Government and they act on it. He sent word by special messenger, but the way things usually go around here, there’s no telling when to expect a response. ‘Course, he told ‘em to hurry ‘cause he’s sitting on a hotbed of trouble. Fleming says they’ll have to send a large force and heavy arms ‘cause they can’t risk a full-scale war breaking out here; this area’s too important to the Army, settlers, and emigrants to let the Indians go taking it back and shoving us out. Clawing our way back in could take years and plenty of bloodshed on both sides.”
“Has Lieutenant Fleming made any attempt to parley for peace with the Indians Grattan provoked into battle? Since he instigated the trouble and men were killed on both sides, it would be smart if the Army looked the other way this one time, or found a compromising way to settle the matter.”
“That’s what I think, but I ain’t got no vote or say-so in the matter. I wished I did, ‘cause I’d search high and low for that compromise. It’s a real shaky situation for both sides. If them Indians let our challenge ride, they lose face. Same’s true with the Army; if they ignore a massacre, they lose face, and they’re afraid more hostiles will think they can steal and kill and not be punished. Seems to me, we’re all in a real tight bind.”
“Maybe those bonds can be loosened or cut,” Chase ventured, “if somebody can find a compromise acceptable to both sides.”
“You seeking that job?” the private asked.
“I doubt I could pull off a stunt that big, but I hope somebody can. I surely would hate to give up trapping and traveling in this territory.”
“Or losing your scalp and winding up as some buzzard’s supper.”
To dupe the soldier, Chase chuckled and quipped, “That, too.”
* * *
In a secluded camp miles from the fort, Chase gave Bent Bow a full report on his findings there to carry back to his father and their people. Once more, the young brave thanked him for his confidence in him and for allowing him to partly redeem himself for failing in his Sun Dance ritual.
As they ate, Chase told the war chief’s son, “I know how it felt when others viewed me as a weakling and outcast, so I understand your sadness and shame and your hunger to remove those stains on your face and honor. Do not fear, Bent Bow, for there will be more times in the suns ahead for you to earn coups from good deeds, ways to please your father and people and to make them happy and proud of you. Accept what happened at the Sun Dance pole as a way for the Great Spirit to teach you many things and to use it as a means to send you on challenging quests. There is a special purpose for all things in the Creator’s plan for our lives, so the bad must be used to strengthen us and to urge us onward to do good and great deeds.” That’s what Mama Martin taught me, and I believe her.
“You are wise and generous, Cloud Chaser. It is good you were returned to us, for there are tasks only you can do. You have given me much courage and hope. I will never fail the Great Spirit or my people again, even if I must die proving myself to them. Will you sweat, walk, and whistle with me as my friend and companion at the next Sun Dance ceremony?”
“I will be honored to do so, Bent Bow, and you will find victory there.”
They talked for a while longer before they went to sleep, as when they awakened, Bent Bow would head for the Red Shield camp and Chase would return to the fort to see what else he could discover.
During the next week, from chatting with soldiers and from keen observation, Chase learned that new officers and troops and more supplies and weapons were coming soon to replace those slain and lost in the “Grattan Massacre,” and to have more men and arms on hand when the trouble worsened, which is what Lieutenant Fleming and the Army expected to happen. The soldiers already on duty there were kept busy. Many were put to work building more quarters, mostly of adobe, or were placed on additional hay- and wood-cutting chores so large amounts could be gathered and stored for emergencies during anticipated attacks. Others were posted as extra guards atop and below the bluff since the fort lacked a protective enclosure, or went riding on intensified patrols. Between those tasks, their regular daily assignments were being carried out as time allowed.
Late one afternoon, two covered wagons arrived to camp below the bluff near the river. As he wandered about nearby, Chase learned that the two families were returning East after having made it as far west as Mormon Ferry where the Sweetwater River flowed into the North Platte. The men had decided the going was too rough and long and they didn’t have enough money and supplies to reach Oregon to take advantage of the government’s Donation Land Claim Act, which provided a free “one square mile.”
Since he had lived in both territories and had attended school far away at Mrs. Martin’s insistence, Chase understood why so many settlers yearned to come this far west and beyond. The land was beautiful and fertile, and people felt the soldiers would keep them safe. If it were learned, Chase fretted, that gold—and silver and other p
recious metals and ores—was available in the Black Hills and other nearby places, there would be no stopping a flood of prospectors, more traders to supply them, whiskey and female-flesh sellers to fill carnal needs, and more soldiers to handle the problems arising from such an onslaught of greedy men and women.
Was there, Chase pondered, a compromise that would work? Could two such different cultures coexist in peace and on equal terms? He doubted it, because the greed of the Whites outweighed simple needs, and too many of them were willing to do anything to fulfill their hungers. Since he had resolved to side with the Indians, he must be just as willing to do anything necessary to thwart the Whites’ conquest. He hated to imagine what he would be called upon to do to his mother’s and the Martins’ people, but he had no choice since he felt the soldiers and settlers were wrong in their course of invasive action.
During that ensuing week, Chase encountered the sutler with whom he had traded many weeks ago. The man was curious about why he was still in the area and queried him about his Indian “squaw.”
Chase shrugged, sighed deeply, and scowled. “I had to send her back to her family and people. At first, she was obedient and respectful, then she became sullen and defiant. She whined and cried about going away with me when she heard about the trouble with the Indians around here. I figured she’d just rob me and take off for home the minute my back was turned and I was off setting my traps, so I told her to git.”
“That was smart of you, Martin; you don’t want no Indian woman at your back who can’t be trusted. And you surely don’t want to get caught in the wilds without supplies if she stole yours and took off.”
Chase nodded. “That’s exactly how I saw the situation.”
Lakota Dawn Page 22
