“It is a prayer to the Great Spirit. It has words. Would you like to hear them?”
“Yes.”
Claire sang the song, first in her own language, then again, this time in English.
“Oh Great Spirit whose voice I hear in the winds
Whose breath gives life to the world
I come to you as one of your many children
I am small and weak.”
“Why, that is beautiful, Claire,” he said. He embraced her. “I never thought, when I left Pennsylvania, that I would wind up with an Indian woman, let alone, that I would fall in love with her. I love you, Claire.”
“I did not think I would ever love,” Claire said. “It is only a word, I thought. But you have taught me that it is much more than a word.”
John embraced her again, then he heard the sound of approaching horses, and he separated from her, and, picking up his rifle, stepped out in front of his cabin. It wasn’t that he feared every sound, but the cabin was so remote that any visitor became suspect.
There was only one direct approach to the cabin, and he jacked a round into the chamber of his rifle and watched, and waited.
He saw a body of men approaching and he knew, immediately, that they were soldiers. He assumed they might be lost, and he put his rifle down, and waited until they approached. What he saw was eight soldiers, being led by a lieutenant.
“Excuse me, sir. Are you John Jackson?” the lieutenant asked when they reached the front of his cabin.
“I am. What can I do for you, Lieutenant?”
“Mr. Jackson, I am Lieutenant Murphy, from Fort Shaw. Major Clinton’s compliments, sir, and he wonders if you and your wife would do him the honor of paying a visit to the fort?”
“Would this be anything more than a courtesy call, Lieutenant?” John asked.
“I believe the major has a favor he wishes to ask of you, sir. But I have not been made privy to what that favor might be.”
“All right, Lieutenant Murphy, we’ll join you,” John said.
“What is it?” Claire asked when John went back into the cabin.
“Major Clinton wants us to pay a call on him at Fort Shaw,” John said.
“Why?”
“I don’t know, the lieutenant didn’t say. I’m not sure he even knows. But, it’s never a bad thing to have a good relationship with the military, so I think we should go.”
“What about the garden?”
“It’ll be all right for a few days.”
With baby Kirby riding in a cradleboard hanging from the side of Claire’s horse, John and Claire rode back to Fort Shaw with Lieutenant Murphy and his military detachment.
Fort Shaw was located on the south side of Sun River, constructed of palisade logs, and perched high on the end of a bluff that protruded over the water. There were projecting blockhouses on corners opposite each other, from which the soldiers had a good view of the approach.
The front gate to the post was tightly closed as Lieutenant Murphy and his party approached.
“Hello, the post!” Lieutenant Murphy shouted. “Open the gate!”
The gate was opened early enough so that there was no need for the group to break stride. They rode right through with Lieutenant Murphy returning the salute of the private at the gate. When they reached the parade ground, Lieutenant Murphy halted the detail.
“Dismount!” he ordered.
Claire looked John, and he smiled. “That’s not us,” he said.
The soldiers dismounted.
“Fall out!” Lieutenant Murphy ordered.
As the soldiers led their mounts to the stable, Lieutenant Murphy indicated than John and Claire should follow him. They rode to the headquarters building then dismounted, and tied their horses off at the hitching rail.
John took Kirby from his cradleboard, and handed him to Claire, then they followed Lieutenant Murphy inside.
“Sergeant Major, is Major Clinton in his office?” Lieutenant Murphy asked.
“Yes, sir,” the first sergeant major answered.
Murphy went over to the door leading to the commanding officer’s office, tapped lightly, then pushed it open and stuck his head in.
“Sir, I have Mr. Jackson.”
John couldn’t hear the major’s answer, but he did hear the lieutenant’s response.
“Yes, sir, she is with him.” The lieutenant turned toward John. “Come ahead,” he said.
“John, the baby and I will wait here,” Claire said.
“No,” Lieutenant Murphy said, quickly. “The major wants to see both of you.”
“Both of us?” John asked. He wasn’t sure what this was about, but he wasn’t sure he liked it. If the major planned to give him some trouble because he was married to an Indian woman, he wasn’t going to put up with it. Taking Claire by the arm, he led her into the commanding officer’s office.
“Mr. Jackson, Mrs. Jackson,” the major said with a broad smile. He was standing and he came toward them with his hand extended. “I’m Major Clinton. Thank you so much for coming.”
The major’s demeanor allowed John to dismiss his apprehension. He wasn’t acting like someone who was going to give him any trouble.
“Please,” he said, “I know you have had a long ride. Have a seat.” He extended his arm toward the side wall, where there was a sofa and a chair.
John and Claire sat on the sofa, and she held Kirby on her lap. Kirby stared at the major, his dark brown eyes open wide.
“I know you are wondering why I asked you here,” Major Clinton said. “I have a favor to ask of you and, if you choose not to do it, I will certainly understand. In the meantime, I’ve made quarters available for you here, on the post, for the night, so you can start back, rested, tomorrow.”
“What do you want, Major?” John asked.
“I want you and your wife to be an emissary for me,” Major Clinton said.
“What sort of an emissary?”
“A peace emissary to the Crow Indians. I thought, with your wife, you would be an ideal ambassador.”
“My wife is Lakota, not Crow,” John said. “The Lakota and the Crow are traditional enemies.”
“Can you speak the Crow language?” Major Clinton asked.
“I can speak,” Claire said.
“It could save hundreds of lives,” Major Clinton said. “All I need is for the Crow to understand that we will not encroach on their land, that we will in fact protect their land from any white men who try to violate their borders. Try and make her understand that.”
“I won’t try to make her understand anything,” John said. “She will make her own decision, and I will honor it.”
“I understand,” Major Clinton said. “Well, I do hope you and Mrs. Jackson will be our guests for dinner this evening. And I promise you,” he said, holding up his finger and smiling, “I will make no further petitions. As I said, whether or not you and Mrs. Jackson consent to do this, will be up to you.”
“Thank you,” John said.
The major’s wife was a rather plump, blond woman with bright blue eyes. “Oh, it is so wonderful to have dinner guests,” she said when John and Claire arrived.
“I must apologize for our dress,” John said. “We had no idea we would be invited to your beautiful home.”
“Oh, nonsense, you are dressed just fine. And what a lovely thing you are,” she said, gushingly, to Claire. “Oh, may I hold the child for a moment? Our own son is back East, attending the Military Academy at West Point,” she said. “It’s been so long since I held a little one.”
“Yes, you may hold him,” Claire said, extending the baby to her.
“Oh, my, what a handsome creature you are,” Mrs. Clinton said. “Yes, you are. Indeed, you are.” Kirby smiled at her and a line of spittle trailed from his mouth.
True to his promise, Major Clinton made no more mention of the mission he wanted John and Claire to undertake. Instead they talked about St. Louis. John and Claire had just come from there, and Major Clint
on had been stationed there at Jefferson Barracks.
After a pleasant dinner, and because Kirby had fallen asleep, John made his excuses, and said they needed to get the baby to bed.
“In regard to your request, Major, I will give you an answer in the morning,” he said.
“Good, thank you, that’s all I ask,” Major Clinton replied. “I’m gratified that you are still thinking about it, rather than an outright dismissal of the request.”
The empty quarters of what would normally be the residence of an unmarried junior officer, was for them. As they walked back to the quarters John heard the first note of the bugle.
“What is that music?” Claire asked. “It is so beautiful. But it is sad.”
“It is called ‘Taps,’” John said. “It is the bugle call that puts the soldiers to bed at night. Would you like to know the words?”
“Yes.”
John sung the words, softly, as the bugler repeated the call.
“Day is done,
Gone the sun,
From the lakes, from the hills, from the sky.
All is well, safely rest,
God is nigh.”
“Those are good words,” Claire said.
Looking around the garrison, John saw that all the buildings, the officers’ quarters, and the soldiers’ barracks, were dark and quiet.
“Come,” he said. “We must be to our bed.”
Later, after Kirby was asleep, John and Claire lay together in bed, with Claire’s head on John’s shoulder.
“John, do you want to do what the major has asked us to do?”
“It is up to you, Claire. You are the one who will have to do the talking.”
“Yes, I will do the talking, but you will give me the words to say.”
“As I said, it is up to you.”
“If it will make peace, I say we should go.”
“All right,” John said. “I’ll tell the major in the morning. We’ll go.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
In the village of Iron Bull
When John, Claire, and the baby rode into the village, every villager crowded around them, men, women, and children. One of the older boys, who was about fourteen, ran up to touch John’s leg. Then, with a loud shout he ran back into the crowd.
“I have counted coups! I have counted coups!” he shouted, proudly.
“Claire, where do we go now?” John asked quietly.
“They will lead us to the place of the village council,” Claire replied.
Almost immediately, two men came up, and one took the bridle of John’s horse in hand, as the other took the bridle of Claire’s horse. The two men led them through the camp until they stopped in front of a teepee. There was a council fire and several men were sitting around the fire. One was sitting by himself, just in front of the teepee opening, making it obvious that he was the head.
“That is Iron Bull,” Claire said.
John held up his hand. “I come in peace, Iron Bull.”
“Taya yahípi,” Iron Bull replied.
“He welcomes us.”
Iron Bull spoke again.
“He asks that you join the council, but I cannot, as I am a woman.”
“Tell him I must have you beside me, because you are my words.”
Claire translated John’s words.
Iron Bull nodded, and made a motion indicating Claire could join them.
“Philamayaye,” Claire replied, thanking him.
“Tell him that we come from the soldier chief. That the white man wants to live in peace with his Indian brothers.”
Claire translated, then Iron Bull spoke, and she gasped.
“What is it? What did he say?”
“He said that you have killed some of his people. That you, and one called Smoke have killed Crow.”
“That is true, but only because we were attacked by Crow. That is why we are here now, to make peace so that our people will not kill each other anymore.”
“You have come to me in peace, and you may leave in peace. But there can be no peace between us.”
“What do you think, Claire? Do you think there is any chance in getting him to change his mind?”
“I will ask,” she replied, then, to Iron Bull.
“Great Chief, how strong is your conviction that there can be no peace?”
“It is very strong. Why do you live with a white man?”
“I was sold to a white man, by my own people. It was not my choice.”
“Were you sold to this man?”
“No. John Jackson is a good man. I came to him because I wanted to. This baby is our baby. I wanted to have our baby.”
“The baby is white.”
“The baby is white and Indian. It is a fine baby, and it is a symbol of peace between the Indian and the white man.”
“You may leave the village in peace. But after you have left, there can be no peace.”
Claire turned to her husband. “I think we must go now,” she said. “We can do no more, here.”
“All right,” John said. “If that is what you think.”
“Iron Bull, have we your word that we can leave without fear?”
“My word is good only as far as the village,” Iron Bull replied. “After you leave the village, there will be no peace.”
“Oh!” Claire said.
“Claire, what is it?”
“John, we must go, now.”
John stood, then took the baby, and with Claire moved slowly and deliberately to their horses.
“Tie the baby in very tightly,” Claire said. “For after we leave the village, we must ride as fast as we can ride.”
“Claire, what is it? What did he say?”
“He said we are safe only until we are out of the village. Then we will be in great danger.”
They rode quietly out of the village then, when they were clear of the village, someone shouted something.
“John! He said we must run!” Claire said.
Quickly they broke into a gallop, riding as fast as they could. Behind them they heard the cries and calls of Indians in pursuit, and when John looked around he saw several mounted Indians chasing them.
“In there!” John said, pointing to a narrow draw, as arrows flew by them.
The draw was so narrow that only one horse at a time could pass, and that was good, because that meant that only one Indian at time could be in pursuit.
Claire and the baby went in first with John behind them. He knew this draw well because he had been trapped here last winter. He knew where it came out, and he also knew that if they could make it out the other end, he could seal it off so that the pursuing Indians couldn’t get through.
Pulling his rifle from the saddle sheath, John twisted around in the saddle, raised the Henry to his shoulder, aimed, and fired at the horse the Indian was riding. The horse went down, throwing its rider over its head. The dead horse had the effect of blocking off the draw. That brought the Indians behind to a complete stop, enabling John and Claire to put a little more distance between them.
One Indian managed to get through, and he galloped after them. This time John shot at the rider, rather than the horse and that bought them enough time to make it all the way through to the other end.
“Keep going!” John yelled. “I’m going to stop them here!”
John dismounted, then climbed up to the top of the opening. There, using his rifle as a lever, he managed to roll a rock loose, which had the effect of starting others down, until there was a rockslide of sufficient quantity to block up the entire pass.
Climbing back down he stayed just outside the blocked-up pass for a few minutes to make sure none of the Indians were able to get through, then satisfied that he had stopped them, he remounted and joined Claire, who was half a mile away.
By now their horses were panting hard.
“We need to dismount and walk them for a while,” John said.
“Do we go back home, now?” Claire asked.
“
Yes, but first we should go by the fort to tell Major Clinton that we didn’t have any luck with our peace mission.”
“But you don’t need me,” Claire said. “I want to go home.” She smiled. “I want to make a soup with vegetables from our garden.”
“All right, you and Kirby go on home. I’ll stop by the fort to see Major Clinton, then I’ll come on home.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes, tonight.”
“I will have soup ready for you. It will be a very good soup.”
“I’ve no doubt but that it will,” John said. He leaned over toward her, and kissed her. “Going to Rendezvous and finding you, is the best thing I ever did in my entire life.”
By now the horses had resumed their normal breathing.
“I think we can ride them now,” he said. “You go on home, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Thechíhila,” Claire said.
“Thechíhila.” John replied. Lakota for “I love you,” it was one of the first Lakota phrases John learned.
Fort Shaw, Montana
“Well, I’m very sorry to hear that, Mr. Jackson,” Major Clinton said. “I was rather hoping that we might be able to come to some kind of an accommodation with them.”
“I’m sorry as well,” John replied.
“You can use the same quarters tonight and start home tomorrow.”
“No, my wife and child have already gone home. I promised I would be back tonight.”
Major Clinton laughed. “Well, I can’t say as I blame you. I do thank you for your effort, even if it wasn’t successful.”
Before he left, John went into the sutler’s store, where he bought a straw hat with a wide brim for Claire to wear as she worked in the garden. He was sure she would like it. He also bought some chocolate, and a small toy horse for Kirby. Kirby was too young to be able to appreciate it now, but he was sure that he would within another few years.
He thought about his friend Smoke, and thought he would be pleased to know that there was someone named for him.
Butchery of the Mountain Man Page 17