The Mourning Dove and Bird Who Sings In The Night prepared her for burial. The Mourning Dove cut a lock from her hair. She tied it carefully around a finger on Bright Star Over The Mountains. She bent over and gave her a final kiss. This was the mother she never had as a child growing up. Yet, she had been a mother to her in adulthood. This was the woman who labored with her and helped bring her children into the world. She was the woman responsible for the man she had found serenity with in a free and nurturing environment. The Mourning Dove would grieve for the woman who was her mentor, friend and confidant. Although Bright Star Over The Mountains had never attended school, The Mourning Dove wished she had a scrap of her wisdom.
~
The serene and peaceful life that The Mourning Dove loved was changing very quickly. It seemed to take place right after Bright Star Over The Mountains passed away. The Mourning Dove felt so torn because it was the white man who was causing the change. It was viewed as progress. There were less and less buffalo and that was the way of life for the Indian. She had been with her tribe for almost thirty years. She and Running Wolf had maintained a loving and caring relationship.
Now, all seemed to be coming to a drastic change, one she was not willing to accept.
~39~
The Paladin Chief
The council had decided to meet. There was so much commotion and the tempers were flaring. They were concerned about the immediate shortage of food for the long winter. Rides With Fury was the first to speak.
“Many of our buffalo have been slaughtered by the white man,” he said. “They are killed by the hundreds for their skin and tongues. The white hunter does not use the meat; he carelessly takes the skin and sells it, leaving the carcass to rot in the sun.”
“We have tried to be fair to the white hunters. Now they are going to take away our food supply. We have to stop them.” Running Wolf added.
“I agree. We need to do something with the winter coming,” The Mourning Dove said, convinced that this could mean a lot of trouble.
“We must go and claim back what is ours. When we see the white man slaughtering the buffalo for the skins we need to do what we have to do to have food and shelter,” Running Wolf said with conviction.
“They usually travel in smaller groups, so they are not a threat to us,” said Strong Eagle.
“Then, it is decided,” said Running Wolf. “Tomorrow I will go out unto the prairie. I will take a band of ten men. When we see them slaughter the buffalo we will not stand and watch it happen. We will do what ever is needed to save our buffalo.”
In the morning Running Wolf and his warriors prepared for the confrontation. The horses and the faces of the chosen Braves were painted as though going on a hunt. Running Wolf had chosen Rides With Fury, his two sons and six other men.
It was devastating for them to see their beloved buffalo slaughtered and left to rot. The skin and tongue was sold for a good price among the white man and they did not care that they were killing and wasting the food of the Plaines Indians. In fact this type of slaughter had a dual benefit in eyes of the hunters. They could make money from the buffalo skin and tongue. If they killed enough buffalo it would surely deplete the food source, therefore decrease the number of Indians.
This would be Swift Fox Who Enters Quickly’s first confrontation in a war-like situation. He was anxious and determined to show bravery if needed. The Mourning Dove was reassured by Running Wolf that he was prepared and had long ago given up the need for foolish displays of heroism. He convinced her that he had taught him well.
Running Wolf and The Mourning Dove stood for a long time in each other’s arms. They had always done this in any threatening situation, even when he hunted.
Running Wolf mounted his horse ready for whatever the day might hold. The Mourning Dove waved goodbye to him and her sons. “God be with you,” she said as she watched them ride away.
~
There were three men in the valley. Running Wolf knew they outnumbered them and there was no need for more Braves. He could feel his blood run cold as he saw the white men brutally slaying the buffalo and skinning them. It took quite some time and the attackers of the buffalo worked diligently to slay as many of the herd as possible.
The men that Running Wolf had assembled sat on their horses and watched until they planned their attack. They spilt up. Running Wolf and his sons stayed together. The other seven had gone to the foothills. Running Wolf and his sons were the only warriors visible to the men in the valley. In the event of them threatening Running Wolf, Strong Eagle and Quick Fox That Enters Quickly the warriors in the foothills would attack from behind. They had them surrounded.
The smell and the sight of rotting buffalo made Running Wolf sick. There had to be hundreds of them slaughtered and decomposing in the hot summer sun. It could have easily fed and clothed the entire tribe for the long winter.
One white man saw them and he signaled to the others.
What Running Wolf and his band had hoped for was to intimidate them enough to make then stop and leave. It did not work that way. After the white man saw the Indians they signaled each other. One of them was not very levelheaded and walked over to his horse slowly. He took out his rifle and shot in the air and then toward Running Wolf and his sons.
This was all they needed to warrant an attack. The three men galloped toward the hunters. One white man mounted his horse and rode away. The others tired to follow but were not as quick. The ambushing Braves soon surrounded them. They were so surprised that they did not have time to reach for a weapon. Within seconds the white men were met with the same mercy they had extended to the buffalo.
~
The weather was changing and it was apparent a storm was moving in quickly. It had begun to thunder.
Running Wolf was between his two sons but enough ahead to be the first to reach the men. They were decoys in order to push them into the ambush. It had worked.
The chief and his sons approached the slaughtered buffalo. They looked at them to see if there was anything that they could salvage. They walked around the carcasses slowly.
Running Wolf could still feel danger. He felt they had not captured all the men. He thought he saw someone in the foothills out of the corner of his eye. He turned and saw a man pointing his gun. He appeared to have his aim toward Swift Fox Who Enters Quickly.
It happened simultaneously. There was a blast from the sky, followed by lightening. Running Wolf yelled to his son. He moved toward him as quickly as he could.
Swift Fox Who Enters Quickly could not hear the warning from his father due to the thunder.
Running Wolf was able to reach him just before the bullet would have hit him from behind. As he pushed him to the ground the bullet entered his back. It moved through his body instantly, shattering his heart. The impact was so great that it threw him into the air. When it left his body the evidence of the bullet left a gaping hole in his chest.
There was almost no pain. The bullet pierced the heart of Running Wolf as he saw that he was successful in saving his son. He could feel his body moving through the air but could not hear. It felt as though he was moving through space as he would in a dream, without any effort or control.
He vividly saw the face of The Mourning Dove. He put out his hand to touch her face and extended his arms to hold her. Then, there was darkness.
The sound of the thunder camouflaged the rifle firing. Swift Fox Who Enters Quickly fell to the ground in confusion. It was not until his father nearly fell on top of him that he realized what had happened. He sat up and pulled his father as though he could help him to his feet. It did not take him but a second to see that was futile. The blood from Running Wolf saturated his shirt. He put his hand to the chest of his father and into the hole in his chest. He screamed out in horror. The young Brave held his father close to his heart. He rocked his lifeless body as he sobbed in disbelief.
The bullet was intended for him. Yet, his father had taken it for him. Swift Fox Who Enters Quickly tho
ught about all the times in his life when his father had come to his rescue. This time it cost him his life. How he wished it had been him instead.
Strong Eagle moved without hesitation to the foothills after his father’s assailant. He easily caught up with him. He threw his tomahawk and it landed between his shoulder blades. The man was begging for mercy as Strong Eagle in a blind rage took the man’s scalp. His screams could be heard throughout the valley.
~
At the camp The Mourning Dove was about to prepare her husbands meal. She knew just how he liked his meat cooked. They should be returning soon she thought.
She was about to drop a hot stone into the water. She stood up at the sound of the thunder. She looked around. All her instincts told her what had happened. She could feel the force in her heart as the bullet hit and killed her husband. She dropped the stone at her feet. Her eyes filled with tears as she felt her husband’s spirit passing through her as he left this earth.
She tried to tell herself that she was wrong. She tried to convince herself she was just worried with three of her loved ones in harms way. She knew in her heart she was wrong. The feeling was too powerful to ignore. She knew but she did not want to believe.
There were hides to tan. This would keep her busy and her mind occupied until they returned. The Mourning Dove kept telling herself that she would spend the night in the arms of her love as she had for the past thirty-one years.
~
Strong Eagle held his father as they slowly rode back to camp. Swift Fox Who Enters Quickly was beyond consoling and in a state of shock. He followed his brother back to camp, his eyes hollow. He could not feel anything.
It had begun to softly rain.
The Mourning Dove was busy tanning a hide when she saw them approaching the village. She had always known instinctively when her husband was near and whether he was safe. The fear her sons carried in their hearts about telling their mother of the loss was already known and felt by The Mourning Dove.
She pretended not to see it. She kept herself busy thinking it would somehow stop time. She had become frantic not wanting to face what she knew she had to see. She had begun to cry and talking very quickly to her daughter.
Sparrow Song could not understand her since she was merely babbling. She saw the men approaching the village. Her father’s horse was without a rider. She turned to her mother in tears.
“Mother, do you see?”
“I told you how to do this!” she snapped at her daughter.
Sparrow Song began to cry harder. She could see from where she stood that the pony Strong Eagle was riding had two riders. She saw that her father might be hurt or killed. Now her mother was scolding her for some unknown reason.
“I will just do it myself,” The Mourning Dove said and took over. She fell to her knees knowing she could no longer escape the inevitable. She began to cry.
Bird Who Sings In The Night saw what was happening to The Mourning Dove and came to help her to her feet. Once she was standing, she signaled she was able to stand and cope with what she had to face.
The rain was falling harder when her sons entered the camp with their fallen chief.
“Mother?” Strong Eagle called to her knowing she had seen them.
She walked over to her son, her eyes intent on her husband as she wiped her tears. Her sons came closer and she could see her fallen warrior. She bravely walked up to the horse. Strong Eagle began to dismount his horse. The Mourning Dove put her hand on his leg. She looked into the grief-stricken eyes of her oldest living son. She shook her head not wanting him to move. She carefully took her husband from his embrace.
His weight pulled her to the ground. Once she felt the heaviness of his lifeless body the reality hit her all at once.
Her strong instincts could not prepare her for what she saw. The Mourning Dove was unaware until now what kind of damage could be done by a bullet. Her hands shook as she touched the cavity the bullet had left in its’ path of destruction. She was overcome with emotion and disbelief at the horrifying damage inflicted on her husband. Yet, she pulled him close to her heart.
She cradled his limp body and rocked. She held him as she sobbed and stroked his face and hair. Her sobs turned into uncontrollable crying and she bellowed in the Crow language.
“Oh, my love … my dearest, love!”
The entire camp looked upon their beloved leader and his grief-stricken family with their hearts on the ground. They stood frozen as though no one knew what to do. Running Wolf was their fearless leader for so long. The small nation of Crow was in shock and disbelief.
Later, in the tipi The Mourning Dove had shared with Running Wolf, she was preparing him for his burial. She washed his body with and through her tears. She folded his hands carefully over his chest after she had finished bathing and clothing him.
The Mourning Dove cut a lock from his hair. She braided it and secured both ends. She would carry his hair with her until she joined him in her journey after life.
She had taken a stick from the outside knowing what she was about to do next. She took the tomahawk from the ground next to Running Wolf. The Mourning Dove put the stick in her mouth and bit down on it as hard as she could. She put her hand on the ground. With a very swift move she lowered the weapon and cut off the upper part of her index finger.
She screamed in pain. She doubled over in agony fighting to keep her consciences. It took her a while to recover from the shock she had just inflicted on her body. She was crying again this time from the pain.
She had to work quickly. Her severed hand was bleeding profusely. She needed to stop the bleeding. She wrapped it tightly. She sat for a long time gasping from the ordeal.
When she could, she wrapped the amputated finger and placed it in his hand. This was her way of sending him to spirit world with something of her. This was the Indian way of mourning.
Her children were standing outside the tipi. Strong Eagle was holding Sparrow Song. When they heard their mother cry out, the two men looked at each other knowing what she had done. A very frightened and devastated Sparrow Song hugged her oldest brother and buried her face in his chest to cry.
The Mourning Dove looked at the face of a man she had loved for most of her life. She lowered her lips to his and kissed him. She was met with coldness. She felt as though she had been swallowed by darkness of the bitter January cold. His closeness was always like the warm fire that would burn peacefully in the center of their lodge. These were the lips of a man who only returned her affections with passion, tenderness and at times forgiveness. This was the man she had shared a lifetime loving. She did not want to face the sunrise without him. She laid her head on his chest as she prayed, “Wherever you have gone please take me with you.”
The following morning The Mourning Dove stood bravely as they raised Running Wolf on the scaffold for his journey to the spirit world. Just before he was lifted to his final resting place he had been raised to the waist of his wife. The Mourning Dove took his headdress and carefully laid it on his covered body. She removed one of the feathers and held it to her heart.
As he was lifted to the sky his body blocked the sunlight leaving only the outline of the hard-to-fathom still body of the great leader. The feathers of his tribal headpiece could be seen standing tall and straight, pointing to the heavens as though guiding his soul.
Her children were at her side grieving as she consoled them. In the background Rides With Fury and other men were singing the mourning chant as they beat the drums. Every sound of the beating drum pierced her heart.
She looked to the heavens and saw an eagle soaring. For the first time in over three decades she felt all-alone. The emptiness was crushing. In a few moments’ time she relived their life together. So much had transpired between them. Today it seemed to have only been a season, not a lifetime. He was her life and now he was gone. She did not see a reason to live. She wanted only to be with him.
That would have to wait. Her mind reflected the day he had told
her about her part in the prophecy. She remembered the pain in his eyes when he asked her pledge to leave a life and land she loved. She had made a covenant with him that day. She must fulfill that promise. It was the final act of love she would render to him as his wife
~40~
A Commitment of the Heart
The weeks that followed the death of her husband were especially hard for The Mourning Dove. Strong Eagle was concerned, as were her other children. She walked around in a daze. Every night before she closed her eyes she would hold an article of his clothing. She put it to her face and took in the scent of Running Wolf. It gave little comfort but somehow it made her feel close to him.
One night, as she captured the aroma of her late husband she noticed that she was being observed. She thought that Swift Fox Who Enters Quickly was sleeping.
He sat up as she held her husband’s garment to her chest. She was somewhat embarrassed that he had seen this private ritual. The look on his face was not something that told her she was foolish. Instead she saw an expression in her son that deeply concerned her.
“It was all my fault! Just like the time with the buffalo,” he said.
The Mourning Dove was confused.
“He pushed me to the ground and he was killed instead,” Swift Fox Who Enters Quickly continued, his voice shaking.
“It should be me on that scaffold, not him,” he said with conviction.
“Can you ever forgive me?” he questioned.
The fire in their lodge had nearly extinguished itself but she could see the tears running down his cheeks. She took his face in her hands.
She thought that she could not feel any more pain. But, seeing her son in such agony only deepened her sorrow.
“Oh no, Swift Fox Who Enters Quickly, you must not say such things.”
The Spirits of Nature Page 26