The Elk-Dog Heritage

by Don Coldsmith

  Thus, the camp of the Northern band was already established to the north of the Dance Lodge. The Elk-dogs, being the Southern band, would establish camp on the opposite side. Next on their left would be the Red Rocks, followed by the Mountain band. The Eastern band would occupy the northeast segment of the circle. A space was always left directly to the east, as a doorway for Sun Boy after his rising.

  None of the other bands had yet arrived, Heads Off noted. A group of excited young horsemen swept past, singing and shouting, and young women paused to wave and call a greeting. Everyone was being caught up in the excitement of the festive occasion. Heads Off had always been impressed, since he first witnessed the Sun Dance, at the resemblance to a country fair in his own homeland far away. There was excitement in the air, a carnival atmosphere. There would be family reunions, dances of both ceremonial and social nature, feasting, telling of stories, and of course, the Big Council. Each chief would report the events of the year for his band. Thinking this sobering thought, he became depressed again.

  Heads Off had nearly reached the lodge of the Real-chief when another cluster of horsemen clattered past. He glanced up, and was startled to see Badger and his companions painted with the ceremonial stripe of scarlet across their brows. This was a complete departure from tradition. Even Heads Off, though a relative newcomer to the tribe, was aware that he had never seen ceremonial painting done merely to greet one’s friends and relatives at the big camp. The now familiar uneasy feeling of dread gnawed at his stomach for a moment.

  The gray mare stopped before a resplendent lodge of nearly thirty skins, and Heads Off called a greeting.

  “Ah-koh, my chief! I am Heads Off, of the Southern band.”

  The Real-chief himself appeared at the doorway, and beckoned the visitor inside.

  “Ah-koh, my friend! Come and smoke.”

  A young man stepped forward and took the reins of the mare, leading the animal to grass and water. Heads Off stooped and entered the lodge.

  His host led the way around the cooking fire to the pile of robes opposite the doorway. He motioned the younger man to a seat, and a woman brought a pipe and filled it. Heads Off brought forth his own pipe, and the two lighted their respective instruments with a stick brought from the fire by one of the wives of the host.

  The skirt of the lodge had been raised a few handspans on the south, and a comfortable breeze made the place quite appealing to a hot dusty traveler. The two men visited, talking of the weather, the mild winter, the hunt, and the lack of any contact with the Head Splitters. Then the old chief suddenly leaned forward confidentially and spoke on a new subject.

  “You have trouble with some of your young men?”

  Heads Off was astonished. He had long since become aware that the old chief was an extremely acute observer. The Real-chief also undoubtedly had observers to report to him. But how, only moments after their arrival, had he known of the internal politics of one of the bands under his jurisdiction? Once again, Heads Off marveled at the astuteness of the old man. Truly, he was a chief.

  8

  Little was accomplished in the ensuing conversation. Heads Off informed the Real-chief of the sequence of events, while the other nodded understandingly.

  “This has happened before, Heads Off. The young men wish to have their own warrior society. They always grow up and return to the ways of the People.”

  “But, my chief, they have had encounters with the Head Splitters, and have been successful.”

  “That is the bad part,” agreed old Many Robes. “They do not remember what happened to the four at Sycamore Creek.” He shook his head. “Aiee, some day they will meet a stronger force, and their learning will be a hard lesson.”

  In conclusion, the old chief agreed that there was little to be done. The Bloods should be ignored as much as possible, unless they broke rules of the council. The two agreed that in the Big Council, Heads Off would make no mention of the young dissidents. He would report on the movements of his band, but minimize the role of the Bloods and their skirmishes.

  Heads Off also described the subterfuge that had been used to keep the band moving. The Real-chief chuckled at the part played by the women. Aiee, he thought, if any can handle this problem, it is the Elk-dog band!

  The young chief left the lodge of Many Robes feeling somewhat better. To be sure, the situation was unchanged, but now his responsibility was shared by another, an authority figure. It helped immeasurably, simply to feel that the Real-chief understood the situation.

  Heads Off retrieved his mare, nodded thanks to the young man who handed him the reins, and swung to her back. He skirted the site of the Sun Dance, and arrived at the camp of the Elk-dog band. Pole skeletons for the lodges were tilting against the sky, and women called to each other as they established their lodge sites. The children ran excitedly in and out, accompanied by yapping dogs. Heads Off threaded his way among the lodges in various stages of construction, and located his family.

  Coyote and Long Elk had assisted in placing and tying the poles, and were just raising the skin cover into position on the lodge of Heads Off. Tall One stood a bit aside, her near-complete pregnancy preventing the strenuous effort required to lift the heavy cover. The young chief stepped down and took a place alongside Big Footed Woman to assist in the lifting. Their combined strength swung the lifting pole, and the lodge cover, nearly thirty skins in size, settled into place. The women circled the lodge frame, dragging and smoothing the cover as they pulled it into position.

  The men, meanwhile, turned to the slightly smaller lodge frame alongside, that of Coyote’s family. By the time the women had laced the front of the lodge of Heads Off and positioned the smoke flaps, they had erected the skin cover on the other structure.

  As they strained to lift it into place, a young woman passed and smiled covertly at Long Elk. That young man became embarrassed and confused, and nearly lost his hold on the lifting pole.

  “Aiee,” Heads Off chided his brother-in-law, “we will soon be lifting a new lodge for Long Elk!”

  The women joined them and completed the positioning of the lodge cover. In a short while, cooking fires were crackling, and the children of Coyote and Big Footed Woman were bringing firewood and buffalo chips for fuel.

  The men settled for a smoke against their willow backrests. The establishment of a new camp was always a satisfying time, reflected Heads Off. The site was clean and without the odor it would have later. Everyone was tired, but satisfied and happy that the journey was over.

  In addition, this time held other advantages. It was the first site for many suns where the band had erected the big skin lodges. While on the move; the temporary camps were established with only crude brush shelters or in the open; it was far too complicated to set up the lodges for only a night or two. Now, setting up the more permanent camp seemed like coming home, Heads Off thought.

  The other pleasant aspect, of course, was that this camp would include all the excitement and revelry of the Sun Dance.

  Sun Boy carried his torch slowly toward the western edge of the world, and Heads Off began to relax. Tall One brought meat, and sat beside him to eat. Young Eagle, tired from all the excitement of the day, played sleepily before the new lodge and accepted bites of food from his parents as they ate. Finally, Tall One rose and packed the youngster off to his sleeping robes. Then she returned to sit beside her husband as he smoked, leaning against his knees.

  “You spoke with the Real-chief?”

  He nodded. “There was not much to say. Many Robes sees the matter well.”

  “What will he do?”

  “Nothing. He can do nothing, unless the Bloods break the rules of council or the laws of the People.”

  Tall One nodded. The same old story.

  “I will say very little of the thing at the Big Council,” her husband continued. “That will hurt the Bloods most of all.”

  “That is good, Heads Off. They take themselves much too seriously now.”

  The le
ngthening shadows brought a chill to the prairie, and she crept closer to him for warmth. Finally she rose, to seek the shelter of the lodge and the soft comfort of their sleeping robes. Heads Off followed. Let tomorrow take care of itself. For now, he was at home, secure in the arms of Tall One.

  Next day the Mountain band arrived, led by Black Beaver. The wheeling and shouting of the mock charge was repeated, and the newcomers were joined by the Blood Society in full force, their faces again ceremonially painted. Again, Heads Off became anxious. People were accepting this group of upstarts all too readily.

  The celebration quieted in due course, only to be repeated three suns later when White Bear led the Red Rocks band in from the southwest. There had been much intermarriage with the Red Rocks after wintering together two seasons ago, and there were many joyous family reunions and friendly greetings.

  Meanwhile, Heads Off knew, the gossip and rumor of the camp would have been spreading like prairie fire. Everyone would have heard the story of the Blood Society by the time of the Big Council.

  It was several suns before the last of the bands arrived, the Eastern band under Small Ears. The Eastern band had for many years had a reputation as non-conformists. Their chosen territory was somewhat different in topography than that of the other bands. They spent more time in the wooded areas along the larger rivers, leading to a slightly different life style. In addition, their chief, Small Ears, had a tendency to glory in the differences, and regard them as unique advantages of his band.

  The rest of the People regarded the Eastern band with good-natured amusement. There were jokes, Heads Off had learned, built around the reputation of that group and its oddities.

  One of the Elk-dog warriors had once come walking back from a hunt, without game, Heads Off recalled, and with his bow broken in the fall which also had lost him his horse. The other men had chuckled and chided him for his ineptness.

  “Aiee,” exclaimed the man’s wife. “What am I to do with him? His grandmother was of the Eastern band.”

  General laughter had followed.

  Now, the Eastern band had arrived, and the medicine men began the daily circuits of the camp, singing the announcement of the Sun Dance, to begin four suns hence. The Sun Dance itself would last seven days, a non-stop celebration. As dancers became tired, their places would be taken by others, and after food and rest, they would return.

  The major theme was the return of the sun, the grass, and the buffalo after a long winter. There would be songs of thanksgiving, of patriotism, and songs of hope for good health. People with infirmities would dance and offer sacrifices, with entreaties for healing.

  Preparations continued after the four suns of announcement were begun. The family of Many Robes had killed a huge buffalo bull. The skin and intact head were carefully arranged at the west end of the dance arbor over a brush form. The resulting effigy would be the focal point of the festivities for the coming days.

  But, before the first ceremony of the Sun Dance, before any of the important activities of the festival, there was one other necessary step. The first day of announcement, begun after the arrival of the Eastern band, was also the signal for the official gathering of the tribe on the first evening. As Sun Boy carried his torch toward earth’s rim, the People began to gather for the Big Council.

  9

  The Big Council would be held, not within the Sun Dance structure, but adjacent to it. A fire had been lighted as the shadows lengthened, and fuel stacked nearby to replenish the flames.

  The fire was certainly not needed for warmth. The evening was hot and still, and the cooling breeze of the prairie had not yet begun to bring the customary chill to the lengthening shadows of evening. Yet a fire was essential to council. Somehow the mystique that surrounded the ceremonial fire was part of the ritual involved. Certainly, nothing so important as the Big Council could be held without the solemn effect of the council fire.

  Some people arrived early, to be sure of a good place in the circle. Each band was limited to the traditionally assigned arc, with the Northern band occupying that segment, and the others in relation to it, exactly as in their campsites. This arrangement was never discussed, merely practiced. The origins of the custom had been lost in antiquity. It had always been so.

  The chiefs of each band would sit closest to the ritual fire. Directly behind were the sub-chiefs and principal warriors of each band. An occasional woman would be found in the second rank, and it was not unusual for women to speak in council. This had been a thing of great wonder to Heads Off, as he learned the ways of his wife’s people. It had never been so in his homeland.

  Farther from the fire were the younger warriors, still in concentric circles. Those of unproven status or those with less interest in the Council scattered around the perimeter. Entirely outside the Council circle, children wandered idly, or ran in play among the lodges. Occasionally it was necessary for some adult to rise and admonish the youngsters to silence in respect for the Big Council.

  The chiefs would arrive last, but lesser warriors were gathering. As the circle began to fill, it became apparent to Coyote that the ranks were thin behind the seat of the chief of the Elk-dog band. He glanced over the crowd with alarm, and quickly recognized that those not in evidence were the followers of young Badger.

  Coyote’s concern mounted. What could the Bloods be planning? He idled away from the council site, then turned and hurried to the lodge of Heads Off. Tall One was just finishing the braiding of her husband’s hair.

  “Come in, Father,” she called, glancing up from her task. “We are almost ready.”

  She took down the shiny Spanish bit from its place, and reverently placed its thong around her husband’s neck. Originally, the glittering object had been used in the mouth of the young chief’s gray mare, the first elk-dog the People had ever seen. Now it was recognized as a most powerful talisman, the elk-dog medicine of Heads Off. It was used only as a symbolic amulet, worn around the neck of the young chief, and then only for special occasions. Coyote remained silent, gazing at the little reflections of firelight from the dangling silver ornaments. Though he himself had had a major part in the events surrounding this strongest of medicines, he was still in awe. The elk-dog medicine was far more powerful even than he had at first realized. Its profound effect on the entire tribe had caused great change in the People’s way of living. Greater, perhaps, than any other medicine since First Man and First Woman crawled from the earth through the hollow log.

  Coyote returned from his reverie, aware that his son-in-law had spoken to him.

  “I said, Uncle,” Heads Off was asking, “is the Council nearly ready to begin?”

  It was important, Tall One had taught her husband, for him to arrive at the proper time. Not too early, before chiefs of the other bands, but at about the same time. And above all, he should arrive before the Real-chief. To come later would not show proper respect.

  The predicament was solved simply, by finishing his preparations, and then waiting near the lodge until the chiefs of the other bands were seen approaching the fire.

  Coyote held the skin door-flap aside and Heads Off stepped through, pausing outside to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. Tall One stood beside him, holding his arm proudly.

  Coyote cleared his throat uneasily. “Something is wrong,” he said softly. “The Bloods have not come to the Council.”

  “Where are they?” The young chief was instantly alert. His wife’s hand at his elbow tightened, almost imperceptibly.

  “I do not know, Heads Off. It is only that their places are empty.”

  Tall One spoke, anxiously. “Surely they would not dishonor the Elk-dog band by staying away from the Big Council!”

  Long Elk stepped from the shadows and motioned impatiently. It was time to make their appearance. Uneasily, the little group moved forward, pausing to allow the medicine man to join them. Heads Off spoke to him.

  “The Bloods have not come to the Council, Uncle.”

  “Aiee, the
y will come to no good.” White Buffalo threw up his hands in despair.

  They could see old Black Beaver of the Mountain band picking his way among his seated warriors. Heads Off quickened his step, and reached his place just as White Bear of the Red Rocks entered the circle of firelight. The chiefs exchanged nods of greeting, and Heads Off sat on the robe spread out for him. On either side and slightly to the rear were Coyote and White Buffalo. Tall One sat unobtrusively behind him, close enough to make her presence comforting. It had been painfully obvious that the ranks of warriors of the Elk-dog band were thin.

  Heads Off watched the patter of conversation around the circle. He was certain everyone was talking about the Elk-dogs, and the absence of their warriors. Damn those young idiots, he brooded. How could they shame their band and their families? The entire tribe would see their lack of respect for their chief and his council.

  Heads Off sat, furious, attempting to appear calm and unruffled. A murmur arose behind him, and people began to crane their necks to look. Finally he too turned to see the cause of the commotion.

  The Bloods were arriving. In the lead stepped Badger, tall and proud, and fully armed. He wore his ceremonial headdress as if for a warriors’ dance rather than a council. Behind him walked his followers. All were dressed like their leader, for a warriors’ dance, and across each of their foreheads was painted the broad crimson stripe.

  The young men made no special moves, but merely paraded pompously through the astonished crowd and seated themselves.

  And none too soon. From among the lodges to the north side of the circle stepped proud old Many Robes with his sub-chiefs. Heads Off breathed a sigh of relief. At least the Bloods had not made the unforgivable error of arriving after the Real-chief.

  Many Robes strode into the circle and seated himself, motioning to his pipe bearer. The ornate ceremonial pipe of the People emerged from its case, was filled, and handed to the Real-chief. The pipe bearer brought a brand from the fire, and the old chief ceremonially lighted the leafy mixture in the bowl. Many Robes concealed well his doubts. Aiee, watching them from the darkness, he had begun to wonder if those young hotheads would ever show up. Fortunately, he had been able to postpone his entrance to allow the Elk-dog band to save face.