Charity turned to another passage in her Bible and read aloud,
“Trust in the Lord, and do good; so shalt thou dwell in the land, and verily thou shalt be fed. Delight thyself also in the Lord; and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart. Commit thy way unto the Lord; trust also in him; and he shall bring it to pass. And he shall bring forth thy righteousness as the light, and thy judgment as the noonday.”
Psalm 37:3–6
“Carrie, I’ve learned that these verses don’t mean that if we do everything just right, God will give us what we want. They mean that if we concentrate on trusting the Lord and doing good, then He will shape our desires so that they are His will, which He can graciously bestow. Bringing forth righteousness, that’s the result He wants. It’s the result we should want.”
Trust in the Lord, do good, dwell in the land, feed on His faithfulness. Delight in the Lord. Commit my way to the Lord. Trust in Him. As Carrie pondered the words her heart broke. Lord, I’ve never really trusted in You. I thought I had to make things happen for myself. I’ve only wanted to do the kind of good that would bring me near Soaring Eagle. I’ve never really fed on your faithfulness or delighted in You, and I’ve never committed my way to You. I had my own way and my own plans. Lord, I don’t know if I can trust You. I haven’t done very much of it. Help me, Lord, to give it up. All of it. Help me to trust You. Show me where You want me to go to do good. Help me to dwell where You want me. Show me that You are faithful. Help me to delight in You, Lord, not in Soaring Eagle. I don’t know if I can do it, Lord, but I want to try.
That night, Carrie Brown slept the sleep of the emotionally exhausted. When the sun rose and she dressed for the final day of the Dakota Mission Conference, she was amazed to realize that her depression had lifted. She did her best to concentrate on doing good throughout the day, helping with meal preparation and organizing a game for the children. She forced herself not to look for Soaring Eagle and not to inspect Julia Woodward’s wardrobe.
At the closing meeting, when Jeremiah Soaring Eagle King rose and left Julia Woodward’s side to give his address, Charity reached for Carrie’s hand. Soaring Eagle had chosen for his text a passage in 1 Samuel that read,
And turn ye not aside: for then should ye go after vain things, which cannot profit or deliver; for they are vain. . . . Only fear the Lord, and serve him in truth with all your heart: for consider how great things he hath done for you.
1 Samuel 12:21, 24
When he concluded his message and went back to sit by Julia Woodward, Carrie realized with a burst of emotion that God had done something amazing in her life. He had opened her heart and taken Soaring Eagle out. But He had filled the space with Himself, and joy—joy that filled her and flowed out in a burst of tears as she sang the closing congregational hymn.
Jesus wastemada—hee waste (Jesus loves me—that is good)
Jesus waste—piwecida ye. (Jesus is good—I thank Him)
Miye awektonja nuni waun (I forget Him—wander)
Iye tehiya amakita ce (He with difficulty searches for me)
Heca nakaes owakida kta (So indeed I Him will seek)
Jesus wastemade weksuya ya. (Jesus loves me I remember)
Chapter 22
Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and he shall sustain thee.
Psalm 55:22
An early summer breeze swept down the valley of the Cheyenne River, causing the prairie grass to dip and sway in a rhythmic dance. Seated next to David Gray Cloud in an overfull wagon, Carrie Brown pushed her bonnet back away from her face. Lifting her chin, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She gripped the edge of the wagon seat, trying to move with the rhythm of the jolting wagon. Up ahead, Martha Red Wing and Charity Bond walked alongside the Red Wings’ wagon. Mounted on a spotted pony, Soaring Eagle rode far ahead of the two wagons.
“I think our friend Soaring Eagle would have these wagons fly, if he could find a way,” David said.
“How many more days until we reach the trapper’s cabin?” Carrie asked.
“From what Pastor Thundercloud told us, I’d guess we’ll be there late tomorrow.”
Up ahead, Soaring Eagle turned his pony around and cantered back towards the two wagons. Carrie fought the urge to call out to him, but he still pulled his pony alongside her wagon. “We call this the ‘Good River,’ Red Bird. To the south is Shicha Wakpa, ‘Bad River,’ overflowing with fresh water in the spring, but almost dry in summer. These plains,” he gestured toward the south, “are green now, but soon they will become dry and brown. Then, later, the fires come to light the night sky. The prairie turns black, but out of the ashes comes new life.”
Soaring Eagle paused and David Gray Cloud teased him, “Are you practicing the introduction to your first sermon among the Lakota? David clucked to his team and when they lurched ahead he grinned. “ ‘New Life from Ashes.’ I like it, my friend. And I think our Lakota friends will listen.”
Soaring Eagle flashed a smile. “I pray that you are right, David.” He rode along in silence for a few moments, and all the while Carrie prayed, Dear Lord, the closer we get to the Cheyenne, the more he smiles and the younger he seems. Oh, Lord, he is beautiful, but he is not mine. Help me, Lord, to concentrate on serving You. Carrie pulled her bonnet back in place and turned her head so that the brim hid Soaring Eagle from view. Perhaps I shouldn’t have come after all.
The travelers stopped at noon. James Red Wing offered, “From what Pastor Thundercloud said, I believe we can reach the trapper’s cabin by early tomorrow evening.”
“Just what I told Miss Brown earlier,” David agreed.
The group hurried through their meager meal and rested the teams less than an hour before starting out again. The Red Wings took the lead in their wagon, followed by Soaring Eagle and Charity Bond. David Gray Cloud rode the spotted pony, staying alongside the wagon and chatting with Charity.
Carrie walked alongside the Red Wings’ wagon for most of the afternoon. Towards evening, Soaring Eagle called out to her. “Red Bird, would you like to ride to the top of the next hill with me? We can look for a place to camp.”
The moment he spoke, David Gray Cloud jumped down from the pony and handed the reins to Carrie, climbing up beside Charity almost before Soaring Eagle had had a chance to vacate the wagon seat. Before Carrie could say anything, Soaring Eagle had lifted her onto the pony’s back and jumped up behind her. With Carrie clutching at the pony’s mane, the two rode up the next hill.
Soaring Eagle said, “White men wonder how we can live on these high, windy plains, Red Bird.” As he talked, Carrie closed her eyes. Peace, that’s what it is. I hear a newfound peace in his voice. And joy, such joy.
Carrie opened her eyes and looked over the vast prairie.
“Red Bird?” Soaring Eagle’s voice brought her back to the present.
Carrie leaned forward, trying not to feel his closeness. She cleared her throat. “I was just thinking, Soaring Eagle, no matter what I write home to St. Louis, Grandmother and Grandfather will never know the feeling of this place. Unless you stood on this hill and looked at the miles and miles of grass stretching away as far as you can see.” They had reached the top of a gradual rise, and Soaring Eagle jumped down and stood beside the pony. Carrie said softly, “It’s barren and wild, and vast, and endlessly endless, but so very beautiful.”
Watching Carrie’s blue eyes gaze over the miles of horizon, Soaring Eagle knew that she meant what she said. He placed one hand on the saddlehorn and said quietly, “This was my home, Red Bird. What you see here and over the next rise, and the next, and the next. It is a hard country, where a man must be fully alive to avoid perishing.” His voice tense with emotion, Soaring Eagle looked up at her and said, “And I have never felt more fully alive than I do at this moment.”
True to James Red Wing and David Gray Cloud’s expectations, the wagons trundled up to a dilapidated two-room cabin early the next evening. The trapper’s cabin had been erected on a small rise that overlooked the fork o
f Cherry Creek and the Cheyenne River.
After only a brief look at the interior of the cabin, James directed a large tent to be pitched for the women. “The men will sleep by the campfire tonight. Tomorrow we’ll get to work rechinking the logs.” Turning to his wife, James smiled. “It’s a good cabin, Martha. Two rooms and,” he added, turning to Charity and Carrie, “a loft for the girls.”
Rechinking and cleaning the cabin took only a few days. Soon the men were selecting timber for another cabin to be constructed just north of the trapper’s cabin on Cherry Creek. When the first tree had been felled, the missionaries gathered around the site of the new school to pray God’s blessing on Hope Station, the name Dr. Riggs had suggested for the new work. Six voices joined in song,
“Jesus Christ nitowashte kin
Woptecashni mayaqu—
Jesus Christ, The loving kindness
Boundlessly Thou givest me.”
When a lone rider was spotted in the distance, Soaring Eagle walked out to meet him. The young brave made the sign of peace before commenting, “No white man has been there for a long time.”
Soaring Eagle nodded. “We are teachers of the religion of Jesus. John Thundercloud was among your people in the month when the Deer Shed Their Antlers. He told us that you wished for someone to come and stay among you. We have come.”
“I am Walking Thunder,” the young man said. “I know this John Thundercloud. The people will be glad that you have come.” He turned and rode away, but the next day he was back with several more braves. They sat on their ponies and watched while David and James and Soaring Eagle cut timber and built the new cabin.
“This will be a school for teaching,” James explained, “and a place where you can come to learn of Jesus.”
Walking Thunder called out, “Will the one with the hair like the setting sun be teaching? If she teaches, then I will come.”
The day the school building was finished, Soaring Eagle and David Gray Cloud rode up the Cheyenne River to begin visiting in the villages. Carrie sighed with relief. Now I can concentrate on the work here. But without Soaring Eagle to watch, Carrie found there was Soaring Eagle to ponder. She turned her thoughts of Soaring Eagle into prayers for his work in the village. Paul’s admonition to “pray without ceasing” took on new meaning.
David and Soaring Eagle were gone for days at a time, seeking those who had responded to John Thundercloud, encouraging all to attend the school. Wherever they were welcomed Soaring Eagle gave the same message: “Jesus was the Helper Man—the Son of God. He came to earth and died that man might once again belong to God. He made Himself alive again, and although men have destroyed themselves before God by their evil deeds, whoever knows the meaning of the name of Jesus, and fears for his own soul and prays, he shall find mercy and be brought near to God. Jesus the Helper Man saves all men, and He will save you.”
The two young missionaries spent countless hours crouched around campfires. They talked of their time among the whites. They told the stories of their own conversions to Christ. They shook their heads in dismay at the mistreatment of their own people but stood firm in the gospel, insisting that the religion they had learned from the whites was true and the only way to freedom.
James Red Wing stayed with the women, preparing to open the school and conducting intensive instruction in Lakota for Carrie and Charity. Lakota began venturing downriver to peer into the cabin and the school, to meet the newcomers, to ask questions. When the school finally met for its first session, the missionaries were thrilled to welcome a dozen students.
Carrie and Charity took the girls aside and began to teach sewing skills. While the girls eagerly accepted lessons in how to care for the clothing they had been issued at the agency, they howled with laughter when Carrie and Charity tried to speak Lakota. But only a few weeks had gone by before some measure of conversation could be held. Then the women began teaching music. Lakota translations of hymns had been prepared in advance. The girls found the cadence of the hymns attractive, and while they did not initially understand the impact of the words, it was not long before their voices were raised together singing,
Jehowa Mayooha, nimayakiye,
Notowashita iwadowan.
Jehovah, My Master, Thou hast saved me,
I sing of Thy Goodness.
The day after Carrie took over an English lesson for James, Walking Thunder appeared, sliding onto a bench at the back of the room. He had painted his face and sewed bells all the way up the sides of his leggings. Long plaits of sweet grass were looped up over one shoulder and across his body. He sat in rapt attention while Carrie tried to hide her amusement as he attempted to wipe the perspiration from his face without smearing his paint. When she introduced herself, Walking Thunder spoke out.
“My friend Soaring Eagle says that you are called Red Bird.”
Carrie felt herself blushing. Clearing her throat she answered, “Yes, I have been called by that name.” Looking about the class she said softly, “You may all call me that name if you wish.” And so “little Carrie Brown” became Red Bird to the people of the Cheyenne River country.
“I never should have come.” Carrie lay on her grass-filled mattress in the loft of the Red Wings’ cabin and spoke into the dark.
“What on earth do you mean?” Charity asked.
“Just what I said. I never should have come.”
“But, why?”
Carrie swallowed hard and whispered, “Because I’ve failed.”
Charity sat up abruptly and peered through the dark at Carrie. “Nonsense. You’re much more fluent in Lakota than I. The children love you. Martha says she doesn’t know what she’d have done without you—us.” Charity lay back down, propping herself up on one elbow. “We haven’t had any converts yet, but it’s too soon, Carrie. You haven’t failed. You’ve been a great help in starting a very promising work.”
When Carrie was silent, Charity lay back down. She was nearly asleep again when Carrie said in a half-whisper, “But, Charity, it doesn’t matter one bit how much I pray and how determined I am to grow out of it.”
“Soaring Eagle.” Charity interrupted her.
Carrie sighed. “Yes, Soaring Eagle. I know he means only friendship between us. I know he has plans with Miss Woodward. But—”
“He’s admirable,” Charity offered.
After a silence between them, Charity asked, “Carrie, what do you think of the mission work?”
Carrie didn’t hesitate. “I love it. I love the children and the challenge. I love the prairie, the wildness, the wind, I love it all. I can honestly say I know what Soaring Eagle meant when he said he never felt more alive than when he is here.”
“He said that when he was looking at you, Miss Brown.”
“He said it about being back here, where he grew up.”
Charity didn’t argue, but asked abruptly, “So what are you going to do?”
“I’m going back to Lincoln, where I belong, for now. I’m going to finish my studies. I’m going to wait for Soaring Eagle to marry Miss Julia Woodward. I’m going to pray for God to send me somewhere where I can be of use among the Lakota. And,” she added miserably, “I’m going to make certain it’s where I will not have to witness the wedded bliss of Mrs. Julia King.” Unexpectedly, tears began to flow.
Charity heard Carrie stifle a sob and reached across to lay a hand on her shoulder. “‘Delight thyself also in the Lord,’ Carrie Brown, ‘and He shall give thee the desires of thine heart.’ ”
Carrie muttered, “I used to think that meant I got what I wanted if I was an obedient girl. Now I know it means that when I put the Lord first, He changes my desires to match His.” Stifling another sob she added forlornly, “I’m trying to delight in the Lord, Charity. So when will He change my desires about Soaring Eagle? When?”
Charity patted her on the shoulder. “When you get back to Lincoln it will be easier. You’ll see.” After a few more moments of silence, Charity offered, “They’ll be gone most of th
e time over the next few days, Carrie. When they are in camp it shouldn’t be too hard to avoid them. Offer to do most of the cooking, or to teach some extra lessons. Then you’ll have a reason to be busy elsewhere. That’s the only thing I know that might help.”
In the darkness, Carrie Brown nodded wordlessly. She determined to follow Charity’s suggestions to avoid Soaring Eagle, to work harder than ever, to pray more diligently that her desires would match the Lord’s—and to leave for Lincoln at the first opportunity.
“Red Bird, have I done something to anger you?”
Carrie jumped as Soaring Eagle’s familiar voice sounded from the door of the little cabin. School had ended for the day, and when the children bounded out into the sunshine, Carrie had busied herself planning the next day’s lesson. She looked up from her desk and answered carefully, “Of course not, Soaring Eagle. Why do you ask?”
“You have been here with Charity Bond for weeks. I know the work has been hard. David Gray Cloud and I have spent many hours in the camps. Still, it seems that when I come near—” he paused and then smiled at her. “Well, it seems that my little Red Bird flies away whenever I come into the camp.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it.” Carrie looked away briefly before adding, “You’ve done nothing to anger me. It’s been a very busy time, that’s all. You have your work, and I have mine, with the children.”
Soaring Eagle looked about the room. “You have no work now. Please, come outside. I want to talk with you.”
Together they walked out of the schoolhouse and to a rustic log bench by the campfire where Martha Red Wing had been doing most of the group’s cooking.
“You do your work well, Red Bird.” He laughed softly. “I watched at recess one day. At times it was difficult to tell who was the teacher and who was a student.” He folded his arms and leaned back to inspect Carrie. “I heard the children talking in camp one day. They love you.”
Red Bird Page 17