The Spirits of Nature

by Michelle Post

  The dream haunted him because he grew restless to have a wife and start a family of his own. It was difficult because there were young women that he had known all his life who had grown to be suitable and desirable companions. As restless as he felt, he knew when the time was right and she appeared he would know.

  For now, they needed to find the buffalo. That was foremost on his mind as he spent the day searching the lands for the beloved animal of the Native Americans. They searched in vain. Running Wolf was on his way home with his father and others. The men were frustrated because they had not located a herd.

  “I am going to hunt some small game,” said Black Bear to his son. “Then, when the sun goes down tonight, I will not feel as though I have wasted the whole day. Tell your mother I will be there soon.”

  Running Wolf nodded. He guided his horse back to camp.

  Bird Who Sings In The Night was gathering water from the river. She could smell a campfire that was not coming from the direction of her village. She sensed there must be hunters nearby. They would pass through the village at different times and trade. This was not an unusual occurrence but she must warn her people.

  She entered the camp and looked for her mother who was tending to Spotted Fawn, the three-year-old daughter of Bird Who Sings In The Night. She found them in her parent’s tipi.

  “There are white men in the meadow,” she told her mother.

  Bright Star Over The Mountains continued to tend to her fire in her lodge. “There is no need to worry, Bird Who Sings In The Night,” she reassured her. “The men located them earlier in the day. They are trappers. They will not cause any harm.”

  The women could hear the horses of their Braves entering the camp. They emerged from the tent to welcome their men. Bright Star Over The Mountains looked for her husband as the warriors returned from the routine survey of the land. She did not see him but her son instead.

  Running Wolf had grown to a strikingly handsome young man. He had matured to be a fearless warrior and skillful hunter. Bright Star Over The Mountains looked on him with pride and admiration. He would make a fine leader someday.

  “Where is your father?” she asked him.

  “He stayed behind to catch some small game, he will be here soon.”

  As he finished speaking the three hunters approached the village. They were holding out pelts as a signal that they came in peace and to trade.

  One look at the animal skins and the Indians knew the white men were trying to cheat them. The trappers smelled of whiskey and it was a miracle they did not kill them for the insult. They sent them away.

  The men were angry as they rode away and back to their camp. As the white men rode into the meadow it was near to dusk. They were carrying a vengeance in their hearts because they could not fool what they considered to be stupid savages. They saw Black Bear.

  Black Bear was intent on a deer near the edge of the woods. He saw the white men out of the corner of his eye but misjudged their distance. As he took aim at the animal, he felt a tug around his neck which pulled him to the ground and on to his back. He struggled but that only made the lasso tighter. He was dragged, chocking until he was nearly unconscious. The men took him to where they had been camping.

  In the village, Bright Star Over The Mountains was becoming very concerned about the welfare of her husband. She approached her son.

  “I know something is wrong,” she pleaded.

  He could see the concern in her eyes and quickly responded to her.

  “I will go and see why he is taking so long,” he reassured her.

  After searching everywhere they had been that day he was on his way back to the camp. He did not see his father. Running Wolf walked his horse for a short distance assured that his father was already home.

  He had only taken a few steps when he felt something under his foot. It was the bow of his father. His weight had nearly cracked it. There was still enough daylight to see there had been a struggle and that his father had been dragged off. There was no sign of blood so he knew it was not an animal. The trappers immediately came to mind.

  He quickly mounted his horse to return to camp. He knew something was terribly wrong. The Crow camp was on the way to where the traders were last seen. He would get other Braves to accompany him on the way.

  Just before they left they heard a blood-curdling scream from the direction of the white man’s camp. It was distorted and almost demonic. In his heart Running Wolf knew what he heard were the cries from his father. He looked over to his mother and that confirmed his greatest fear. She instinctively knew that something horrific had happened.

  He rode as fast as the horse would carry him in the direction of the painful screams. His hands were shaking at the thought of what might be happening to cause his father to cry out in such agony. He wanted it to stop. He wanted it to stop so his father would not be tortured anymore. Running Wolf did not know if he felt more for his father or the anguish his mother and sister must have felt as they stood helplessly in their village. Then, mercifully there was silence.

  As they arrived at the camp there was no sign of Black Bear, just a morbid stillness and the overbearing stench of burning human flesh. Then Running Wolf saw him.

  The three men had tied Black Bear between two trees. They had poured whiskey over his entire body.

  “Don’t want our skins or our booze?” they had mocked him.

  “Well now you have it!” They poured the whiskey on him

  and set him ablaze. They watched as they mocked him. Black Bear wallowed in pain: a torture that was unforgivable.

  Running Wolf carefully cut his father’s charred body from the trees. He treated the remains with the utmost respect as he wrapped him in a blanket he kept on his horse. He could barely see through the tears.

  He knew he could not let his mother or sister see what had happened to Black Bear. Running Wolf would not allow the usual burial of his father on a scaffold. With tenderness and care he laid his fathers body in the cloth. He secured him in the shroud and burned what remained of his father. As he watched the smoke rise to the heavens he fell to his knees and let out a cry of pain as he chanted in prayer.

  Running Wolf mounted his horse and left the site of his father’s death. His heart was heavy. He did not know how he would tell his mother and sister what had happened to his father.

  The Braves who had accompanied Running Wolf left him to attend to the remains of his father in private. They had easily followed the tracks of the hunters who had attempted to flee. The hunters were still drunk as the Braves tracked them down and surrounded them. The band of Indians circled the men but did not immediately attack.

  Although they were inebriated when they killed Black Bear they were now quickly becoming regrettably sober.

  The men who had been so hostile and malicious to the Crow chief were now begging and pleading for their lives. They had dismounted their horses and tried to outrun the Braves. The warriors methodically shot arrows into them starting with their legs so that they could not move. When the men fell they began to crawl. The cowards cried out that it was the fault of their cohorts and not them who had killed Black Bear.

  The Braves dismounted their horses and began to beat the men with clubs. They took their scalps just before they had piled them on top of each other. They had allowed them to live long enough to feel the excruciating pain. They took what was left of the whiskey and gave them the final treatment they had given to Black Bear. Although they were close to death the final process of their demise still caused them to scream out in horror and torment.

  Bright Star Over The Mountains and Bird Who Sings In The Night were holding each other as they heard the cries from the direction of the white man’s camp. When they saw the smoke and heard the screams of the white men they knew they would not see Black Bear again.

  ~

  Later that night Running Wolf sat motionless outside the tipi of his parents. He could hear the cries of his mother and sister.

  He wa
s unable to do anything. His heart broke for his mother more than himself. He could not imagine seeing her without his father. They had always been together. He could offer little comfort. He could only imagine her loss. His father had been part of her life since she was very young. He had protected her. He had provided well for her. In his presence she wanted for nothing.

  Through the years they had come to depend on the roles each played in their lives for survival. They had raised their children together. Now, in their autumn years they had come to rely on each other on a much more emotional level. She would no longer have his constant tending to her needs.

  Running Wolf would provide for her as Black Bear had. He would see to it that she never went without food or shelter. But the passing of this man who was father and chief to him was a great loss and inherited responsibility. He resented this duty that was bestowed upon him at this time.

  He was in a daze thinking about the horror of seeing his father so tortured. He held the bow that he had nearly cracked that day. He remembered the day that his father made this bow. He had told him then that it would belong to him one day. That day had come. Running Wolf never imagined he would inherit this treasure so soon or in this way.

  The loss of a parent was not something that he had given much thought to. Although there were wars among the rivaling tribes, Black Bear was a skilled warrior. In battle his father stood a chance. He was fearless yet wise. Running Wolf seldom thought of losing his father when confronted by their enemies.

  Today, he was killed by a group of cowards who did not offer him an opportunity to fight. That was not the Indian way. He knew now that there was no honor in the white man.

  Running Wolf felt cheated by them. The Indians had not harmed them when they entered their camp earlier. The pain they inflicted on his father was without any provocation. What made them think that they could take a member of their tribe and treat him with no regard?

  He thought about his revenge on the white man. There was an irony in the vengeance he must have on the ‘white eyes’ from this day forward. While the settling of scores ran cold in his veins, he thought back to his dream as he entered manhood. There was a direct conflict between his vision and his quest for justice against all white men. It was a paradox he was facing. One he had never been trained to handle.

  He was not prepared to let go of the relationship he held so dear. Since the day his father rescued him from the coyote they had a closeness he had come to regard as everyday life. His father was a patient teacher and enjoyable companion.

  Running Wolf knew that he would be a candidate for chief. Was he ready? He doubted it. Becoming chief was a great honor but there was no joy in achieving it this way. He had always envisioned the symbolic passing of the sacred headdress to be due to his father’s old age. Then, he would have the old chief to turn to for wisdom and advice.

  He shook in the stillness of the night, thinking about his loss and what he was about to embark as leader of his people. He did not think in his heart that he could measure up to his father. Yet, the families he had known all his life would be looking to him for direction.

  He missed him already. The void made his stomach ache. Even the tears that flowed freely did not relieve the turmoil within his soul.

  Running Wolf spent the entire night reflecting on the man who had been part of his life since birth and how different life would be without him.

  In the stillness of the night he called to the spirit of his father for comfort and guidance. He could feel his presence. As in life, Black Bear would not fail him now. In the midst of his grief he felt the warm glow of his father’s presence. He would call on his spiritual guidance for wisdom in the leadership he had inherited in such an unfortunate way. He would still miss him with every breath he took. But, he knew he was there within his heart.

  Running Wolf knew that he must put his own mourning to the side and care for the people that would now be in his trust. He had a heartbroken mother to care for, a tribe to lead, and a prophecy to fulfill.

  The dream he had when he entered manhood haunted him more now than ever before.

  ~8~

  Rebecca’s Disgrace

  Rebecca stepped off the wagon looking vibrant to Philip. It had been so very long since he had seen her. How he had waited for this day. Rebecca was now thirty-five. He was grateful when he saw that she had not lost that feisty look. Age had matured her but; in a moment’s glance he could see that she was still the cantankerous Rebecca.

  When she was near to twenty Rebecca had been sent to the farm of her aunt Christine in Connecticut. Christine had lost her husband that winter and was in need of help with her young daughter Sarah. The guidance of a woman who was the sister of his late wife was an opportunity that Jeremiah seized after much trepidation. He would miss his daughter terribly, but felt this might be her salvation.

  Rebecca’s presence to Christine would serve a dual purpose. Christine would have the help she needed. Rebecca would have the direction she had missed in her childhood.

  When Rebecca first left Hidden Meadows it was to be for a couple of years. However, when her cousin Sarah had matured to an age of independence, Christine became very ill. Rebecca had grown to feel part of the family and would not leave her side. What was to be only a short time turned into fifteen years.

  Rebecca had been the cause of concern to the aging Jeremiah. While the house was much more peaceful without her, both he and Philip missed her. Jeremiah would have to remind himself often that his actions were in the best interest of Rebecca. When he longed to have his daughter with him he would reflect on the reason she had been sent away.

  As a young woman, Rebecca explicitly expressed that she was not interested in marriage. She displayed poor judgment with men. She had taken a particular fancy to a young man named Ross Millstone. Philip loathed him. Ross was arrogant, obnoxious and rude. He was also engaged to marry Abby Carson. Rebecca found it a challenge to flirt with him in spite of the fact that he was engaged. This type of behavior was not accepted in the social groups that Jeremiah entertained. It also went against his morality. When it became obvious that Rebecca liked to play this game Jeremiah was at a loss. When he received the plea from Christine he was torn. Once he realized it was in Rebecca’s best interest he had to act swiftly before he could change his mind.

  Philip missed her terribly although he was somewhat relieved. He wanted only the best for Rebecca and he prayed that a life of modest means would teach her more about being poised and considerate of others.

  Today she was coming home and Philip was very anxious to see her again. He hoped for a close and mature relationship with his only sibling.

  Philip did not have a close relationship with his father. It seemed that all through his childhood he could not measure up to Jeremiah’s high standards. For a long time he had tried. As of late it did not matter, in fact he was somewhat rebellious.

  Jeremiah on the other hand was a lonely and confused man. He did not know how to raise the children without a mother. He had thought several times about marrying again. In the end he chose to remain single. He loved the children. They were his only connection to his beloved Madeline.

  Jeremiah felt compelled to run the family business and keep it profitable for his children. This kept him very busy and in doing so he felt justified in his lack of presence to them. The nurturing they needed was compensated to what he considered a higher cause, their future. If he could safeguard their lives when he was gone, he felt he had fulfilled his duty as their father.

  He knew he was hard on Philip. Philip would inherit the family business and fortune someday soon. Jeremiah was near to the age of seventy. The company he had developed and built to an empire required someone with character and strength.

  His tenacity with Philip paid off. Philip had been successfully running the leading newspaper in Boston for almost a decade. Jeremiah would still go into the office, but he had handed the responsibilities to Philip. He had nurtured him all along and when the
time was right he confidently passed the baton.

  ~

  Today his Rebecca would return, Philip thought as he anxiously waited for her in the wagon. His heart raced as he saw the coach approaching the center of town. He was sure it was Rebecca.

  Rebecca had written that she would be arriving today with Sarah and her new husband Robert. Christine had passed away that winter just after Sarah and Robert had wed. Rebecca saw no need to stay in Connecticut. Sarah had grown and her ailing aunt had passed on. She was anxious to return to the place of her birth. Robert and Sarah accompanied her and were planning on living in Boston.

  Philip had insisted on meeting Rebecca in town, alone. He would have some time with his sister before everyone at home undoubtedly doted on her. He watched carefully as the wagon came to the center of town. Then he saw the lovely face of his sister as she beamed at him. She gracefully emerged from the carriage.

  She looked exquisite in her flowered silk gown. She carried a parasol over her left shoulder. The early spring sun was not a threat. The parasol was just a nice accent to her gown.

  Philip chuckled to himself. Sarah and Robert were dressed so modestly. Rebecca looked as though she were on her way to a party. She had not changed much. For that he was secretly grateful. He admired her spunk.

  Her blonde curly hair was pulled back which only emphasized her green eyes. She walked with grace and confidence. There was no mistake that she was from ‘good stock,’ and well educated.

  Philip was looking forward to this time alone with his sister before the festivities of the evening. Jeremiah had carefully planned a coming home party for his daughter that night.

  Rebecca ran to the awaiting arms of her brother. He lifted her and twirled her.

  “You look wonderful, Becca!” he exclaimed. He put her down and held her at an arms distance to look at her.