Daughter of the Eagle

by Don Coldsmith

  The two had stopped to trade for supplies with some Growers, several sleeps from their own band, when they learned of a new development.

  “You are Running Eagle?” the woman asked as she offered her dried corn for the meat they had brought.

  Long Walker answered with another question. “What do you know of Running Eagle?”

  “That she brings vengeance against the Head Splitters.”

  The woman’s attitude was completely noncommittal. The Growers traded freely with all comers and considered themselves entirely neutral. Only so could they survive in permanent locations amid the various warlike nomads of the plains.

  “Some young men were here looking for you,” she continued.

  Instantly Running Eagle was alert. “Head Splitters?”

  “No, no, your own tribe.”

  “What did they want?”

  “They wished to ride with you, to ride against the Head Splitters.”

  Running Eagle was confused. It had not occurred to her that her campaign was more than a private foray. That young warriors would seek her out to follow as their leader was a new idea, and somewhat flattering.

  “Where are they now?”

  The woman shrugged. “Who knows about young men? We told them where your People are camped.”

  “You told them? They are not of our band?”

  “No. Theirs is the band of a chief called Rides-the-Wind.” She pointed northeast.

  “The Northern band?” Long Walker interjected. “How did they know of Running Eagle?”

  The woman smiled. “Everyone on the plains knows of Running Eagle. The Head Splitters talk much of her. They call her Crazy Woman, but they are afraid.”

  Embarrassed, the woman became silent, as if she had said too much and violated her position of neutrality.

  Excited yet puzzled, the two left the Growers and set their trail for the camp of their own band. This was becoming a far bigger thing than it seemed at first.

  “Would you let them ride with us, Running Eagle?”

  “I do not know. I think not. But, aiee, we could lead a raid they would remember for their grandchildren to hear of!”

  She looked straight ahead, but Long Walker saw that there was an excited glitter in her eyes. The old feeling of alarm came creeping back as he recognized the sign. It was the way she looked when she was planning her attack strategy.

  Long Walker said nothing, but his heart became heavy. It was not good. He did not wish to see her so pleased and excited over the prospect of a major campaign. Again came the warning thought, the feeling that she was enjoying all this too much for her own good.

  Where would it all end? With the death or capture of Running Eagle? There was little to make Long Walker feel otherwise.

  24

  Running Eagle and Long Walker topped the last rise and looked down on the Elk-dog band’s summer camp. For some time they had seen the gray haze of smoke from cooking fires as it hung near the horizon.

  The riders paused for a moment to observe the scattered lodges in the meadow near the river. Something had changed remarkably since their most recent departure, a few suns ago.

  “Aiee,” observed Long Walker, “the band has grown!”

  The loosely organized bands of the People varied constantly in size and composition. Basically they were formed around a respected chief and his family’s friends and relatives. Still, there was a constant shifting of allegiance. Good fortune or misfortune to a band might cause a few warriors to move with their families to join another group for a season.

  Of course some ne’er-do-wells constantly remained disgruntled at their status and changed their alliance nearly every summer. These were not a special asset to the band, and little was expected of them.

  On the other hand, able warriors or adventurous young men might choose to spend a season with the band of a popular chief or subchief. The shifting fortunes of political prestige, admiration for a chief’s reputation, or merely a search for adventure with an aggressive leader might be motives.

  Now the returning warriors noted that the increase in the size of the band was largely in the bend of the stream, to the west of the main camp. Running Eagle observed that the dwellings were of brush; they were temporary summer shelters. That would mean that these were probably young warriors seeking excitement. There were no families with them. For a moment she wondered what had been occurring in the Elk-dog band to attract such a following.

  At that moment the two riders were sighted from below, and a great shout went up. A number of men leaped to their horses and rushed to meet the newcomers.

  They streamed across the meadow and up the slope with reckless abandon, singing, shouting, and performing feats of daring horsemanship to attract attention. Snatches and partial phrases of their jubilant cries began to be distinguishable.

  “—has struck the enemy to hurt him—”

  “—feared by all Head Splitters—”

  “—mightiest of warriors—”

  “—we ride with Running Eagle!”

  The girl’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. Here were at least twenty young warriors swearing allegiance to her as leader. She glanced at Long Walker, only to see his face darkly marked by displeasure. Her own feelings were mixed. She could not help but feel flattered, yet something in her resented interference. Her vows of vengeance had been a private, a personal thing. Somehow this public adulation was a threat to her.

  Now the young men were surrounding the pair, still singing, some voicing the full-throated war cry of the People. They moved on toward the camp. Children ran to meet the party, accompanied by yapping dogs. Excitement was high.

  It was some time before Running Eagle could tear herself away from her admirers and make her way to the lodge of her parents. There she spent a pleasant interlude, exchanging news while her mother prepared food. Most exciting, of course, was the talk of her growing band of followers.

  Young warriors had been arriving almost daily, her father related. Most were from the Northern band, closest of the other groups. Some, however, were from the Mountain and the Red Rocks bands. There were many family ties with these groups. Two young men had come all the way from the Eastern band, known for its eccentric behavior and different customs.

  “What do you think of all this, Father?”

  Eagle spread upturned palms in a broad shrug of puzzlement. “Who knows, Daughter? When has such a thing happened before?”

  Not since Heads Off brought the first Elk-dog, both knew. Young men and older men with families had gravitated toward this, the Southern band. That was when the name change occurred, because of the special circumstances. It had become the most prestigious of the bands and had been called the Elk-dog band ever since. So important was the acquisition of the horse that often the entire tribe was now called the Elk-dog People by other groups.

  Running Eagle was still confused by her conflicting emotions. “But what should I do?”

  “Whatever you wish. I think they would follow you anywhere.”

  “Would that take power from our chiefs?”

  “I think not, Eagle Woman.”

  The girl elected not to notice her father’s use of her former name.

  “Their authority is a different thing,” he continued. “It is for the entire band. If you do not break any of the council’s rules, who is to care?”

  Long Walker, when he came by after darkness had fallen, was much more pessimistic. The two strolled along the stream in silence for a time, then stopped to talk. They were very near the spot where the girl had discarded her cooking stones.

  “Running Eagle, you must stop this thing!”

  It was the first time he had spoken so for some time, and she was instantly defensive.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Tell the young men to go home.”

  “I will decide that,” she snapped. “They come to follow me!”

  “But, Eagle,” he pleaded. “These are thrill seekers. They will not be goo
d warriors.”

  “Are you afraid their skill is greater than yours?” she taunted.

  “No, no.” He shook his head. “It is only that now you can never be alone. Anywhere you go, you will be followed by these young men. You cannot fulfill your vows, because they will be interfering. Give it up, Running Eagle. You have killed enough Head Splitters.”

  In her heart she knew that he was right, but she was furious that he would attempt to convince her. Angrily she turned on him.

  “Walker, you cannot tell me when my vows are fulfilled,” she almost screamed at him. “If you do not wish to ride with me, there are many who do!”

  She stumbled away in the night, glad that the darkness hid the glisten of tears on her cheeks. Why had she treated her friend this way? Each time, it seemed, that they were on the verge of becoming close, something happened to spoil it.

  Suddenly an idea occurred to her. She would go and talk to Owl. Her uncle had always been able to give understanding and advice.

  She turned aside, made her way among the lodges, and finally stopped before the medicine man’s dwelling. She tapped on the taut skin lodge cover.

  “Uncle,” she called, “it is Running Eagle!”

  Willow drew back the door skin for the girl to enter and beckoned her inside. It was late, time to retire, but the couple knew that the young relative had a need.

  Running Eagle glanced at young Rabbit, already sleeping peacefully on a pile of robes. The girl turned back to her uncle. Owl sat smoking, relaxed, waiting. He had some idea what was bothering the young woman but waited to hear.

  “Uncle, you must help me!” she blurted.

  Rapidly her story poured forth, venting all the frustration and dilemma. Not all, perhaps. She omitted how badly she wanted to go to Long Walker for comfort and companionship. She did not understand how she could make decisions without hesitation in combat but not in her life.

  Owl was silent a long time, but finally spoke. “Daughter, these choices are yours. All that you say is true. These young men are thrill seekers. They would follow you, but their judgment might not be the best.” He paused for a moment in reflection, then injected a cautious question. “What does Long Walker say?”

  “That does not matter,” she answered irritably. “It is my decision.”

  Owl nodded. “True. You must decide.”

  His question had been answered.

  “Running Eagle, you have surely avenged your brother. Your deeds are known across the whole prairie. So you could do as you wish. No one will think less of you if you send your followers home. But,” he shrugged, “it is your choice.”

  Though his words were noncommittal, Running Eagle felt that a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. In effect she had received approval from someone outside the immediate situation. She could now do as her heart was telling her.

  The girl rose, thanked the two warmly, and gently patted the sleeping Rabbit on the head. Now she knew what she must do. She slipped outside and paused for a moment to allow her eyes to become accustomed to the darkness. Then she would go in search of Long Walker. In her mind he would still be where she left him beside the deep pool, sad and depressed. She smiled to herself in the darkness. Walker would be so pleased at her decision.

  In the distance there was the sound of an approaching horse. She listened, evaluating the hoofbeats. The rider was in a great hurry, and the animal was tired, pushed almost to exhaustion.

  The newcomer called out and, apparently by coincidence, wandered into the temporary camp of the outsiders. There was excited talk, then shouts and the sounds of running feet, and people came hurrying into the main camp. Running Eagle could catch only portions of the confused shouting.

  “—Northern band attacked—”

  “—Head Splitters—”

  “—go and help them—”

  “Where is Running Eagle?”

  The girl realized the situation with a sinking heart. She would be expected to lead a war party to help the Northern band. It was too late for the choice she had been considering, for now there was none.

  Frustrated, Running Eagle felt again the helpless sensation she had experienced earlier in the summer. Somehow there had been set in motion a series of events over which she had no control.

  She had no choice. There had never been one.

  25

  Again Running Eagle and Long Walker rode side by side, this time headed north. Behind them straggled some thirty warriors, noisy, singing, chanting, or aimlessly racing their horses back and forth. She could hardly believe all the events of the past day.

  She had arrived home, expecting to rest and, at leisure, to decide whether to go out on another foray. Then she had learned of the impromptu gathering of her young followers and had had her argument with Long Walker over it. Just as she had felt that she had these problems resolved in her own mind, the messenger had arrived from the Northern band.

  This was the most disconcerting happening of all. The Northern band had been struck by a large force of Head Splitters, moving somewhat outside their usual territory. A number of the People had been killed, and Rides-the-Wind himself was wounded but was expected to recover.

  Most alarming, however, was the manner in which the attack had been planned—coolly and efficiently. The invaders had captured two young men, apparently for the sole purpose of releasing them later. The two had been instructed to carry a message to their chiefs.

  This raid had but one purpose—to punish the People for the depredations of Running Eagle. The enemy had referred to her as Crazy Woman, but there was no doubt as to whom they meant.

  The Head Splitters had also left no doubt that they intended to raid again and would continue to do so until the forays of Crazy Woman ceased.

  The exhausted messenger had come not to plead with the girl to stop, but to ask her help. With a force of warriors, he pleaded, they could pursue and punish the enemy war party. But they must move quickly, before the Head Splitters left the area.

  A hasty council was called. It had been decided that Running Eagle would lead a war party of volunteers, to include those who had declared themselves her followers. Most of the warriors of the Elk-dog band would remain behind. There was the strong possibility that the entire plan by the enemy was designed to draw the fighting men away from the camp. Then a surprise strike on the defenseless band would be devastating.

  So it had been decided. Even without those young men who elected to go on the war party, the band that stayed at the camp remained nearly at full strength. Running Eagle would have over thirty warriors, a strong force in itself.

  There had been no question as to who would lead the war party. Running Eagle had been challenged, and it was her right to lead the answering force. Indeed, her duty.

  Things moved rapidly, and by daylight the avenging force was ready to depart. Running Eagle was pleased and relieved when Long Walker approached on his big bay.

  “I still ride with you?”

  “Of course!”

  She flashed the dazzling smile that always made Long Walker’s heart pound in his chest, and the two led the procession out into the prairie. The two horses, familiar by long association, instinctively moved together as they walked. The knees of the riders occasionally touched, and the nearness of Long Walker was comforting to the girl.

  They talked as they rode. Both were concerned that the majority of their followers were undisciplined and inexperienced. A few warriors from their own band had skill, knowledge, and experience, but the others left much to be desired. They cavorted senselessly, abused horses that might need to be in top condition, and uselessly expended themselves. Long Walker was disgusted.

  It would be necessary, the two leaders decided, to choose a couple of responsible-appearing warriors from the group and ask them to help in controlling the more exuberant novices. One such man was a quiet youth named Flying Squirrel. When the time came for night camp, they decided, it would be time to approach him and perhaps others to initia
te some semblance of discipline and order.

  Meanwhile it might even be useful for some of the more emotionally tense young warriors to tire themselves out a little. Running Eagle did not think that it was her place to criticize too much. After all, on her first war party she had broken custom in the now famous charge that had resulted in all this. From a novice warrior, she had become, to the enemy, Crazy Woman, scourge of the plains.

  She could not help but be proud of her accomplishments, even as she wished sometimes that she had never aspired to warrior status. She glanced back at the motley straggle behind her and shook her head.

  At least all of her would-be warriors showed some rudimentary knowledge of behavior. So far, none had ridden ahead of her and Walker. If that happened, it was time to stop and take firm steps.

  But such a thing did not happen. The members of the party, even the foolish ones, observed the common courtesy, and a good day’s travel resulted. By the time Sun Boy stood low in the west, Running Eagle felt somewhat better. It would be two, maybe three sleeps before they made contact with the Head Splitters. By that time the war party might well be more organized and disciplined.

  For now they would stop somewhat before dark. They had covered much distance and were moving into unfamiliar territory. The prairie ahead looked rougher and more hilly. This was verified by the men of the Northern band who had been this way before.

  So a halt was called, and campfires began to blossom as the light of Sun Boy’s torch faded. This would be the last camp where fires would be permitted, but for now the enemy would be at least two sleeps away.

  Long Walker strolled around the camp and requested Flying Squirrel and two others to meet at the fire of Running Eagle. It was time to begin some sort of organization.

  26

  Black Fox sat, waiting. There was nothing else to do at the moment. He could hardly contain his enthusiasm, but he knew that he must, so he forcibly called upon himself to relax. With conscious effort he softened his tense muscles and stretched full-length on a robe spread over a level patch of short buffalo grass.