Joe hoped it was true that an Absaroke prophet had warned them not to battle the whites and that all tribes believed that vision. He also hoped his ruse would be effective and that his enemies had not sent warnings about him to this place. He watched the chief come forward, scowling. As taught by his love, he gave the sign for peace and friend.
“What you want?” the Indian asked in a belligerent tone.
“I come with gifts for Black Moon and his chosen warriors.” Joe saw suspicion gleam in the older man’s dark eyes. “They are gifts from Snake-Man and Zeke Randall.” That announcement got a reaction of more suspicion. Joe went to the packhorse and removed the bundles he had purchased from Harvey. He spread a blanket on the ground and emptied the cloth sacks. He watched the chief join him and eye the tobacco, pastel beads, knives, hatchets, mirrors, bells, fancy buttons, and trade cloth.
He glared at Joe and said, “This not what Black Moon want.”
Joe smiled and pulled a smaller sack from the packhorse Sun Cloud had loaned him. “These are special gifts for Chief Black Moon.”
The leader withdrew two cigars, a decorative can of safety matches, a pocket knife, a packet of lavender beads, and a bottle of whiskey.
Joe motioned to the other goods and said, “Those are gifts for Black Moon to give to his best warriors and wives. These,” he said, tapping the woven sack in the man’s grasp, “are for you.” He learned why the chief was annoyed when the leader glared at him and spoke again.
“Where guns, bullets, whiskey? How we kill Sioux with trinkets? They coyote droppings. They kill, raid like rabbits. No more great warriors. No more good battles. They want white-eyes to not trust Crow and slay. They speak lies. They must die. Snake-Man say he help. Zeke his warrior. Why they break promise to bring guns in…” He halted to hold up ten fingers, ball his fists, then lift one finger. “Moons from one in sky.”
Joe leapt on the clue that revealed a July second rendezvous in eleven days. “They don’t break promises, Black Moon. The weapons and whiskey will come on the day Zeke said. I was sent to bring these gifts. You still want to meet him in the same place?”
“Yes, same place, mountain like sleeping bear.”
Joe knew the site. As he repeated the numerical signals the chief had used, he stressed, “You’ll be there after eleven moons cross the sky?”
“We come. No tricks,” he warned with a scowl meant to frighten.
“Snake-Man said he would supply you. Don’t you trust him?” Joe asked, seeking a weak spot.
“He have powerful magic. We must trust. We help kill Sioux as he wants, but need guns and bullets.”
“What do you tell the soldiers who come to ask about him?”
“We say no words to bluecoats. We say Sioux lie. That Spirit’s order.”
Joe sensed the chief hated but feared the masquerading villain. He took a risk to say, “Don’t fear him, Black Moon; spirits have weaknesses like men do. If you want to meet him, look inside his wagons while the magic smoke burns and he leaves to rest. If you find him and remove his mask, the mask and his magic will belong to you. It takes a brave man to challenge a spirit; that’s how you win his strong medicine.”
Black Moon pondered those astonishing words. His eyes glittered with curiosity and envy. “How man find and defeat spirit?”
Joe sensed he had the man almost ensnared and pushed to get him all the way into a cunning trap. “By being as clever and brave as the white spirit. Snake-Man would be happy to share his secrets and magic with the great Black Moon. But you must be sure to face him while his magic is weak, after he has used it and while he rests in the wagon. He must roam Mother Earth until a glorious warrior earns his medicine symbols. When he passes them to that warrior, he can join the Great White Spirit and live forever in the heavens. That is what all white spirits want.”
“He white spirit?” the chief asked, looking shocked.
“Yes. Didn’t you see his hands and hair?”
“Hands hidden. Hair like night.”
“I’ve seen them; they’re white, like mine,” Joe claimed, extending his hands before the chief to drive his point home. “That’s why he uses Zeke and white men as his helpers. But only an Indian warrior of prowess can challenge and conquer him. Think what you can do with such power.”
“I ride brave trail, become great leader.”
“When you become that great leader, I will bring you all the supplies you need. I must warn you, bad white men ride in this territory. They kill Oglalas, rob their burial grounds, and leave Crow arrows to make the Sioux and Army think Bird People seek war. They try to trick Crow by doing the same. I saw seven men attack a Crow hunting party and kill them. They dropped Sioux arrows and beads to anger and fool the Crow. A bad white leader provokes you against each other before it is the best time to fight. I removed the arrows and beads, tracked them, and killed them. In their camp was Oglala possessions to do the same in your territory. That’s bad.”
Black Moon was furious. “What man do bad tricks?”
“I don’t know, but he wants the Crow and Sioux to kill each other so he can take this land for himself.” Joe hoped that got the chief to thinking in the right direction. “When I defeated them and asked questions, they said Snake-Man was their boss. Surely that cannot be true.”
“We not raid Sioux burial grounds. They not raid Crow. Spirits, fallen warriors be angry. Plenty bad medicine to wake them from death sleep. Always been this way. Bad to change, plenty bad.”
“You speak good English, Black Moon,” Joe complimented.
“Learn tongue to stop lies, to trade with white brothers.”
Joe put in one last word to cause trouble. “If Black Moon takes the power and magic of spirit man, Zeke and all white traders will bring you all the weapons and whiskey you want. Even the Sioux will fear Black Moon.”
“Why you not defeat spirit man and steal power?”
Joe reminded him of his earlier fabrication, “I’m not an Indian warrior, and I’m not allowed to get near him or his wagons. If you can sneak up on him in his wagon while the magic smoke fills the air, you can conquer his power. Then, no white man or Indian can defeat Black Moon.”
The chief went silent in thought. “If Black Moon come near spirit man, he bring snakes to life.” He motioned to his arms. “They strike, kill.”
Joe did not laugh or mock the superstitious man, but played on those irrational notions. “Not if Black Moon holds a knife in each hand and puts them into the snakes’ heads before they move. This territory will belong to Black Moon with such power and magic in his possession.”
“Why you tell Black Moon?”
Joe hoped his answer sounded truthful. “Snake-Man punishes me when I do not do all he says. He orders me and others to steal Sioux possessions to leave where we attack whites so the Army will blame Sioux. He tells us to take tokens off trees on sleeping bear mountain. He wants the Sioux destroyed. I don’t want to cause a war between the whites and the Sioux. If Black Moon becomes leader of this territory, he will honor peace with whites as your shaman saw in the vision. The Sioux will flee your magic. All will be good.”
“Bad to rob Great Spirit at sacred mountain,” he scolded.
Joe feigned a contrite expression. “I believe you,” he said, “but I have to follow Snake-Man’s orders or die. When you meet Zeke for the guns, don’t tell him what I’ve told you about the spirit’s weakness. If they learn you know the truth, they’ll guard him close, and you won’t be able to get near him or his wagons to steal his power and magic.” Joe hoped those seeds would sprout mistrust and desire and would entice Black Moon to double cross Zeke and his boss. If so, his task would be over soon and his beloved would be safe, hopefully back home with him in Virginia. From the chief’s expression and next query, Joe assumed his clever ruse was working.
“Why spirit tell you to kill whites and blame Sioux?”
Joe shrugged and faked ignorance. “I don’t know. Do you know why he tells you to kill Sioux? Why does he hate them so
much? Why does he want them all killed or driven out of this territory? Does he want it for himself? Is that why he supplies you with weapons to do the job for him?”
Black Moon pondered those discoveries, but said, “We enemies with Sioux more winters than Black Moon lived. You fear white spirit?”
Joe faked his discomfort. “He has lots of men and can have me killed if I don’t obey him. But he’s not all powerful, not really a spirit like Indian spirits. He’s more like your shaman, a clever medicine man. He makes that smoke with balls of powder from far away, like the powder inside bullets. Snakes are his medicine sign like the black moons on your possessions. They’re painted on his arms like you paint your symbols on your shield and tepee. Painted snakes can’t come alive and strike, if he can’t use his magic. That takes time. He wants people to think he can bring them to life fast only to scare them into not challenging him.”
“Black Moon think on words. Come, we eat. We have Sacred Arrow Ceremony. You see bravest warriors in land.”
Joe wanted to get them out of camp fast, so he smiled and alleged, “I was ordered to bring these gifts, then return quickly for another task.”
“You sleep in Black Moon’s camp. You friend. You leave on next sun.”
Joe dared not refuse the chief’s hospitality, so he was trapped into accepting. “Thank you, Black Moon.”
“Woman stay with you?”
“Yes, she’s my wife,” Joe laced his arm around his cherished love in a possessive manner.
Black Moon eyed the beauty, particularly the tribal symbols on her garments and accessories that said she was Arapaho— neither enemy nor ally. He shrugged and motioned for them to follow him.
While they ate a hearty meal of rabbit stew, roasted antelope, boiled roots, and fry bread, Black Moon showed Joe a pocket watch and told him that Snake-Man had given it to him as a gift. He opened it to let Joe hear the “magic” music it made, something that amazed Morning Star.
Later, Joe and Morning Star sat with the chief on buffalo mats to observe the Sacred Arrow Ceremony. It was a test of bravery and skills, the rite to select which warrior was to lead in the next battle, with the winner achieving the highest rank of honor and power next to chief in the band.
The couple watched as three warriors took positions in a row, in a clearing for the safety of observers. At a signal, they rapidly fired seven arrows each overhead, then did not move as the deadly shafts fell downward with sharp tips coming straight at them. Any man who moved to avoid a wound or death was a coward and was banished. Any warrior who chose to enter the contest would rather be slain than dishonored and exiled. If he was a skilled shot, his arrows would pierce the earth around him to form a fence of great prowess. By the time the ritual ended, one participant was dead, one was injured, and one was unscathed: Matohota in her tongue.
Morning Star hoped she appeared calm, but she was apprehensive in the midst of a tribe who had warred with her people for generations. She did not want to imagine what the Bird People would do to her if they discovered her secret or Joe’s cunning tricks. She presumed the winner spoke and understood English, as he had listened with great interest to Joe’s words about Snake-Man. As the fierce warrior returned to the chief for acknowledgment, she prayed the victor’s name wasn’t a bad omen. She knew few creatures or medicine signs were stronger than the Grizzly Bear.
After spending a restive night in the chief’s tepee, Joseph Lawrence and Morning Star left Black Moon’s camp after the early meal. They retrieved the hidden goods and clues to the payroll attack, then headed for the next Crow camp of Talking Wolf at South Folk River. Along the trail, they discussed what they had learned in Black Moon’s camp.
Joe related seeing a half-burned crate with letters PR still readable, and he speculated it had come from where Simon worked. “Since he runs the post and Bernard Pratte isn’t around to catch him doing mischief, he could be having guns and ammunition sent to him to pass along to Zeke. Simon does have black hair. If Simon isn’t Snake-Man, he probably works for him. He’s in an excellent position to receive illegal goods without anyone catching him. I wish I could have taken that board as evidence, but I couldn’t figure a way to do it without Black Moon getting too curious. With luck, they’ll be more when we reach Zeke’s rendezvous point.”
After questioning the unfamiliar words, Morning Star said, “I hope Black Moon or Grizzly Bear kills them for us.”
“And does it fast, before Zeke exposes us. I just hope Snake-Man doesn’t have more so-called magic up his sleeve. If he fools Black Moon again, that sneaky bastard will spill his guts about us. That means to tell all he knows. Then we’d have Zeke, his boys, and Crow chasing us.”
A rush of anxiety charged through her and tainted her English words. “Why you think Black Moon believe you and attack spirit man?”
“Men like him live in both worlds, love. They’re sly, greedy, and evil. They want power, and they’ll do almost anything to get it.”
“It not matter if you not catch Snake-Man and kill?”
Joe caught the clue to her apprehension. “All that matters is getting rid of him and his plot,” he soothed. “Once he’s out of the way, things will settle down. Then Tom can make his treaty work. That will stop Black Moon from attacking your people again.”
She glanced at him in concern. “You wish to hurry this task?”
“Yes, to prevent more people from getting hurt and killed.”
His answer delighted her, but it made their separation even more imminent unless something powerful intruded and helped them. She didn’t know if it was right to pray for such divine intervention. Perhaps it was best to wait and see what happened during and after the sacred mission.
On Sunday, they visited with Talking Wolf and his band, who were much less showy and aggressive than Black Moon’s. Joe used his same ruse, and it worked again. That chief also had met Snake-Man and believed in the villain’s magic. He, too, wanted more guns, bullets, and whiskey, and to kill Lakotas. Yet Talking Wolf did not have an impending appointment with Zeke for additional illegal supplies; they didn’t know how to take that information. But, unlike Black Moon, Talking Wolf was afraid to attack “the spirit who come and go in smoke.” Wisely, Joe didn’t entice him to do so.
They spent the night in the chief’s tepee. It rained hard until dawn, a heavy deluge accompanied by awesome thunder and lightning. Yet the sturdy conical dwelling protected the inhabitants from the fierce powers of nature and barely disturbed their slumber.
Shortly after sunrise and a hot meal, the couple departed.
On Monday, they camped on the Grand River beneath a full moon with Two-Bulls. As he spoke little English, Morning Star used her skill with sign language to interpret for the men. Two-Bulls said he would accept the gifts, but he had told Snake-Man and Zeke he did not want war with the Lakotas. He explained he did not want guns, bullets, and whiskey found in his camp by the Army, their friends, but revealed he had accepted one load long ago for his warriors to use while hunting buffalo. He said he had told Zeke and the spirit man he would not take guns with which to attack and slay Lakotas and asked why they had sent Joe to him with another plea.
Joe explained how he didn’t want war or trouble, and how both would come if those evil white men were not slain. He alleged he was leaving the area and not working for them anymore. That seemed to please the chief.
Two-Bulls vowed that he did not fear the spirit man and his white warriors. He related he would kill them if they caused him trouble.
Joe was thrilled, as Two-Bulls was the most influential and powerful Crow leader in the territory. He took great delight in telling the chief how to defeat and expose the villains. That news seemed to interest Two-Bulls, but he didn’t say whether or not he would attempt to destroy them.
Joe was caught off guard and worried when the chief asked if he could buy Morning Star, who still called herself Little Flower. He had her sign that she was his wife and he loved her very much so he couldn’t part with her.
When Morning Star translated, “You good white man to love, accept Indians. She have good man,” Joe smiled and thanked him.
Through her, Joe asked why Two-Bulls didn’t report Snake-Man and his mischief to the Army, as they were “friends.” He was surprised and dismayed when the chief responded that he wasn’t sure he could trust soldiers and the white laws completely, so he always denied knowing anything to prevent trouble. Two-Bulls didn’t want the Army to think he knew the villains so they wouldn’t suspect him of lying about receiving illegal goods.
Joe and the daughter of Sun Cloud were impressed by the good and wise leader. It relieved her to learn not all Bird People were bad or hated her people. Both made certain the renowned chief knew they respected and liked him, as Two-Bulls could be a big help with the peace treaty.
Tuesday morning, they rode to locate Zeke and his wagons at Bear Butte. They prayed he had panicked at their intrusion and come early with his delivery and to warn the Crow. They hoped he didn’t have many men with him and they could accomplish the crucial task of destroying the weapons before they fell into the hands of the wicked Black Moon. If they rode fast and hard, they could be in position to wait and work in two days.
Joe told Morning Star that Stede and Fitzpatrick should have his and Jim’s reports by now. He was eager to discover who George was, if the scout had a military reason for being in this territory, if Stede knew anything about Simon Adams, and to learn who was buying land here.
The last mention drew a question from Morning Star. She listened as Joe explained the Pre-Emption Law but did not argue its power.
To get her mind off the alarming matter, Joe asked, “How do you know your way around such a big territory? Women don’t leave camp much.”
Morning Star related the joint meetings at many times, places, and seasons that took her across this land. “Long ago,” she added, “Bird People lived and hunted far away. Lakotas lived and hunted in these lands. When summer grows too hot, buffalo travel longer.” She pointed to the cooler north. “We go after, must ride where they go to hunt. Crow come, and we must fight to hunt over the Cheyenne River. To save lives, Red Hearts come here no more if plenty of buffalo where we live. There is more ways.”
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