Fools Crow (Contemporary American Fiction)

by James Welch

  He heard a call and in the quarter-moon light he saw the two young men approach. He stood and slung his robe pack over his shoulder. It was only now that he admitted to himself his two concerns. He did not like to have an unlucky man on this trip. Bad luck, like the white-scabs disease, can infect others. He had only agreed to take White Man’s Dog along because he respected his father; Yellow Kidney would have to be alert for signs of bad medicine and turn the party around if the signs mounted up. But his real concern focused on Fast Horse. He was boastful and reckless and he wanted too much. Such a man in a small party like this could bring disaster down on all of them. Yellow Kidney did not like to begin such a long journey with these feelings.

  The small group of men walked steadily all night and all the next day. The high, rolling plains offered easy going, and Yellow Kidney wanted to make time while they were fresh. He knew of a war lodge just below Red Old Man’s Butte. It was in a stand of small pines and would give them enough cover and comfort for a good rest. They would come upon it before Sun Chief hid behind the Backbone, time enough perhaps to kill an animal for food.

  The four-leggeds were many that day. They saw four large herds of blackhorns and several smaller herds of prairie-runners and wags-his-tails and once, on a bluff to the west, bighorns. In a draw that drained toward the Bear River they scared up a kit fox and Yellow Kidney took this as a good sign, for the fox was known to give men cunning. It was said that those to whom the fox came in dreams would become strong leaders.

  Later that day a pair of golden eagles followed the party for a way, and again Yellow Kidney felt good, for they would give him eyes to see far off. Part of his war medicine was in the two eagle feathers he wore in his hair. But he was glad when the eagles turned away to their home in the Backbone. Any nearby raiding party would also be watching the large birds and wondering what they found so interesting to follow.

  Finally, with Sun Chief still high in the western sky, they came within view of Red Old Man’s Butte. From their angle it looked like a small sloping mountain with the top knifed off. Eagle Ribs ran ahead to scout, to make sure no enemies occupied the war lodge, for it was well-known to the Snakes and the Flatheads. The rest of the men found shelter in a cutbank below a wind that had turned chilly. As they sat and smoked, they looked to the north and saw the clouds had begun to move down. But they were high thin clouds that did not contain moisture. Fast Horse stood and walked a short way down the draw; then he turned and walked back.

  “I had a dream two sleeps ago,” he said. He addressed them all but he looked at Yellow Kidney. “In this dream Cold Maker came down from Always Winter Land. He came with the wind. He was all dressed up in white furs and he was riding a white horse. He carried a lance made of ice and a shield of hoarfrost that one could see through. At first I was frightened, for I was certain that he had come to kill me. I asked him to take pity on me, to allow me to live a full life. He laughed, and his laughter sounded like ice breaking up on the river. As you know, I am not afraid of anything in this world—I would make the Crows cry all by myself—but that laugh so filled me with fear that I fell down and trembled, waiting for him to stab me with that ice spear.”

  Fast Horse looked from face to face, challenging them to scorn him. But the men looked up at him with wide eyes, as though they shared his fear.

  Fast Horse smiled then. “You understand my fear in the presence of one so powerful. But this story ends happily, for you as well as me. Cold Maker said, ‘Rise up and look at me, young man. I know you go in two sleeps to raid the Crow horses. I have chosen to help you, and now I will tell you how to be successful. Give me a pipeful of your tobacco.’ My fingers were numb with the cold he had brought with him but I managed to fill my pipe and light it for him. ‘I have no tobacco in my home,’ he said. After he smoked awhile, he told me this: ‘There is an ice spring I keep hidden in the rocks on the side of Woman Don’t Walk Butte. I like to drink there once in a while. It gives me strength. But now a big rock has fallen over it, and blow as hard as I can, I cannot dislodge it. I know you two-leggeds, puny as you might be, possess the cunning to move that rock.’ He handed me back my pipe and it was so cold it burned my fingers. Then he said, ‘If you do this for me, I will make your raid successful. As you drive the Crow horses home, I will cause snow to fall behind you, covering your tracks. But you must find my spring and remove the rock. If you don’t, you must not go on, for I will punish you and your party. Either way, because I offer my help, you must bring me two prime bull robes for my daughters during the helping-to-eat moon. It will go hard on you if you do not do this.’ ”

  The young men looked at each other with both fear and excitement. White Man’s Dog stood. “Fast Horse, there are many springs around Woman Don’t Walk. How will we know which is the right one?”

  “There is only one that is covered with ice. So said Cold Maker.” Fast Horse looked around the group with pride. “I will lead you to it. Even dog-lover here will drink from it and maybe steal himself a Crow woman. Next to the Liars they make the best lovers.”

  The young men laughed but Yellow Kidney did not. This dream was a complication he did not like. He had always been confident in his own medicine, and he was confident in his ability to lead these youths. Still, such a power dream could not be ignored. What if they could not find the ice spring? What if they could not move the rock?

  He heard a whistle and looked up. Eagle Ribs had returned and was motioning them forward. Yellow Kidney climbed up out of the cutbank. “Any sign?”

  “There was a party in the lodge not long ago. The ashes were high and I found this.” Eagle Ribs handed him a brass powder horn. It was filled with stinking-fire.

  Yellow Kidney replaced the cap. “Napikwan. I have never known the white men to use a war lodge.”

  “More likely one of the Snakes took it from a Napikwan. There were many moccasin tracks but no white-man shoes.”

  Yellow Kidney handed back the brass container. “You have taken the first spoils, Eagle Ribs. It goes good for you.”

  Eagle Ribs smiled, something he didn’t do very often. “There are also many wags-his-tails on the other side of Red Old Man. They are fat and do not look around.”

  “Good. You and I will kill one while the others fix up the war lodge.”

  The lodge was a frame of long poles tied together at the top. It was set in a stand of pines overlooking the eastern plains. The young men gathered brush and cut boughs, building from the bottom up until the poles were covered and only the dark mass separated it from the surrounding trees. By the time they got the fire started, Yellow Kidney and Eagle Ribs were back with a female wags-his-tail. They brought only the hindquarters and heart and liver. That night they feasted and told stories. One of the men had brought cold roasted turnips. Fast Horse said that White Man’s Dog should save his because the Crow women liked to sit on them. Maybe one would sit on White Man’s Dog’s turnip.

  On the fifth day out they came to the head of the Little Prickly Pear where it empties into the Big River. A short distance to the southwest lay the holdings of Malcolm Clark. Yellow Kidney had told how, before turning to ranching, Clark had been a trader among the Pikunis and had married Cutting-off-head Woman. The Indians called him Four Bears and the chiefs respected him, but he was also known for his ruthless ways and bad temper. Now he raised whitehorns and had a big say with the Napikwan chiefs.

  Yellow Kidney decided to ford the Big River downstream from Clark’s holdings, not because he was afraid of Clark but because he wanted to stay far north of the Napikwan town at Many-sharp-points-ground. There the big chiefs hated and feared the Pikunis and wished to exterminate them. They wanted the Pikuni lands. They wanted the blue-coated seizers to ride up and shoot all the Pikunis so that they could graze their whitehorns. The Pikuni chiefs had already signed away much of their territory. Yellow Kidney had been at the treaty place at the mouth of the Big River and had watched everything. He remembered how the people were happy because the Napikwans prom
ised them many goods in exchange for their land. When the wagons came filled with crates, the people gathered around and the Indian agent began to hand out small things. Cut beads, iron kettles, knives, bells, the ice-that-looks-back, carrot and twist tobacco, a few blankets. All the chiefs got Napikwan saddles to go with their medallions. Then the Napikwans gave the people some of their strange food: the white sand that makes things sweet, the white powder, the bitter black drink. The people were happy, for they knew these white men would come often to hand out their goods. Even Yellow Kidney had been happy. Along with the others, he agreed with the white big chief that the Pikunis should raise the puny whitehorns and dig and plant seeds in the breast of Mother Earth. Along with the others, he knew that the Pikunis would go away and hunt the blackhorns as they always had. But their agreement had made the white chiefs happy, for now the Napikwans could move onto the Pikuni lands. Everyone was happy.

  Yellow Kidney watched the young men as they chopped down some small spear-leaf trees. These are good human beings, he thought, not like Owl Child and his bunch. His face grew dark as he thought this. He had been hearing around the camps of the Pikunis that Owl Child and his gang had been causing trouble with the Napikwans, driving away horses and cattle, and had recently killed a party of woodcutters near Many Houses fort. It would be only a matter of time before the Napikwans sent their seizers to make war on the Pikunis. The people would suffer greatly.

  At last the young men had enough logs to make a small raft. They lashed the logs together with rawhide and dragged the raft into the water. The men yelped and hooted when the flimsy logs began to float. Then they stripped and piled their clothes, weapons and packs on the raft. They pushed off and swam with the raft, kicking and pushing to the opposite shore. The current carried them downstream, but soon they beached the raft in an eddy behind a sandbar. That night they built a fire in a stand of willows and roasted the rest of the deer meat. There was little talk.

  The ninth day they didn’t move. They were in the land of many enemies, and so they would travel only at night. They spent the day in a grove of alders by the Sweet Grass River. A short distance to the west, the Unfaithful Mountains loomed black against the blue sky. While some of the men dozed, others did the small chores that had been neglected during their journey. Eagle Ribs cut some rawhide soles and sewed them with awl and sinew to his two pairs of walked-through moccasins. Medicine Stab, the silent one, had noticed a small tear in his bowstring and sat twisting a piece of wet rawhide into a new string. He watched Yellow Kidney run a greasy rag over the working parts of his repeating rifle. He studied the designs of the brass studs in the stock of the gun. He would have to hunt hard this winter. The many-shots cost ten head-and-tail cow robes. He was determined to get them but first he needed a strong buffalo-runner. He looked over at White Man’s Dog, who lay back against a downed alder. The day was warm and White Man’s Dog was stripped down to his breechcloth. His eyes were closed but he was not asleep. He was thinking about a dream that had come to him three nights running: He was in the middle of an enemy camp and it was a bright winter night and the snow creaked beneath his moccasins. A black dog approached him and then walked away. Again it came up to him and turned to go. This time it looked back to him as though it wanted him to follow. The dog led the way through the camp until they came to a lodge on the far side. It was simply decorated with a star cluster on either side of the ear flaps. He pulled back the entrance skin and saw several dark shapes around the perimeter of the lodge. As his eyes adjusted, he saw that the shapes weren’t breathing. Then, opposite him, one of the shapes lifted its sleeping robe and he saw that it was a young white-faced girl. She beckoned to him, and in fright he turned to leave. But as he turned away he looked back and saw that the girl’s eyes desired him. Then all the dark shapes began to move and he saw that they were all young girls, naked and with the same look in their eyes. The white-faced girl stood and held out her arms and White Man’s Dog moved toward her. It was at this point that he would wake up.

  He opened his eyes and watched Medicine Stab work on his bowstring. He had the string threaded through the eye sockets of an old blackhorn skull and was vigorously pulling the string back and forth to make it pliable and smooth. The others were all resting now, and the day was warm and quiet. The thin clouds that had been following them from the north had disappeared and Sun Chief rode high in the early afternoon sky. It was a good time and White Man’s Dog should have been content to drowse with the others, but he was troubled by the dream. He had had many dreams of desire, he welcomed them, but this one was different. This one was a sign, and he didn’t know how to interpret it. He wanted to go to the white-faced girl but knew that there was danger in that direction.

  4

  THE NEXT DAY they camped at the foot of Woman Don’t Walk Butte. Yellow Kidney sent Eagle Ribs to the top to look around. Sometimes war parties camped at the top of the butte to offer prayers and plan strategies. Yellow Kidney himself had been a member of Big Lake’s war party the summer they took revenge on a group of Snakes for killing three Pikunis and stealing thirty horses. They had offered their prayers at the top of Woman Don’t Walk, and four days later they killed off forty of the Snakes and got their horses back and more.

  Yellow Kidney sat on a rock in the morning chill and smoked his pipe. The others had scattered in all directions to look for Fast Horse’s ice spring. Their young energy made Yellow Kidney realize that he was getting old too soon. His legs ached and the cold air was beginning to make them stiff. He had been shot in the left leg by a Cutthroat several summers back and it had given him trouble since. Although it was hardly noticeable around camp, it bothered him to walk a great distance. It hurt him most to squeeze his buffalo horse when he was running the blackhorns. His thirty-eight winters sat heavily on his shoulders and he knew he didn’t have many journeys left.

  Sun Chief had cleared the hills to the east, lighting the frosty yellow grasses on the side of Woman Don’t Walk. Yellow Kidney offered up a prayer of thanks for so many days of smiling. This time of year, each day was a blessing. And Night Red Light, three quarters full, had allowed their eyes to look around each night. But she would be full by the time they reached the Crow camp, and this worried him. Her light could prove dangerous to those sneaking among the lodges for buffalo-runners. Yellow Kidney himself had two of the big fast horses and didn’t need any more; nevertheless, he would be obliged to lead the way into camp. He almost laughed out loud at himself. He knew that once they were near the Crow camp, he would be as eager as any of the others to capture a prize horse. He knocked the ashes out of his pipe and stood, the frozen grass crunching under his feet. He spotted Fast Horse and White Man’s Dog about halfway up the butte, where the yellow grass met the towering granite face. They were bent over and intent. Below them, Sun Chief hit the silvery brush with a glare that made Yellow Kidney shield the bottom part of his eyes. He felt his heart quicken until he saw them stand up and move away to the south face.

  He knew it was wrong to question another man’s dreams, but he couldn’t help being skeptical because the ice spring dream had come to Fast Horse. The young man was ambitious and perhaps foolish, but his father, Boss Ribs, was a powerful heavy-singer-for-the-sick. He kept one of only three Beaver Medicine bundles among the Blackfeet tribes. The Kainahs and Siksikas possessed the other two. Beaver Medicine was even stronger than Sacred Pipe Medicine, so Yellow Kidney had great respect for the father of Fast Horse. For that reason he had agreed to take Fast Horse on the raid.

  As he watched the two young men pick their way among the rocks, he found himself studying the contrast in their appearance. Fast Horse was half a head taller than White Man’s Dog, and in his buckskin shirt and leggings he looked like a big man, an impression furthered by his erect stance that told of pride not yet earned. His long black hair was piled in a knot on the front of his head. Unlike the others, he had painted his face before each night’s trek—three ocher streaks on either side of his face and a vermilion
smudge on his chin. White Man’s Dog, a year older, was broader in the body, unusually broad, although he was flatter in the belly and chest than Fast Horse. He wore his hair simply, his braids unadorned. He is like the wolverine, thought Yellow Kidney, low and powerful. If he has the heart to match, we will make these Crows pay.

  Fast Horse pouted that day in camp because they did not find the ice spring. He had stayed out looking until Sun Chief was high in the southern sky. When he returned he ate a chunk of cold deer meat and stared at the butte. Yellow Kidney saw in his face that he was questioning his dream. Yellow Kidney questioned not the dream but the dreamer. He went off a way and prayed. He asked the Above Ones to tell him what to do. Asked Cold Maker to take pity on them. To turn back now would lead to ridicule when they got home. Yellow Kidney would lose face. But to go on, to risk the wrath of Cold Maker—wouldn’t that lead to far more disastrous consequences? Why did he feel that he couldn’t trust Fast Horse? He looked about him in the failing light. He looked at Woman Don’t Walk Butte. He thought of the night Big Lake had prayed for guidance and the ensuing success. But Big Lake had proven warriors with him. Yellow Kidney had youths, except for Eagle Ribs. Anything could go wrong, even if the signs seemed right.