Chapter Sixteen
After the flap was secured for total privacy, they embraced and kissed with deep emotion, for this was not a time for words. They held each other tightly, almost desperately, as they savored this blissful and stolen contact. His lips pressed kisses on each feature of her face as her hands stroked his coppery flesh with admiration and delight. Greedily their mouths fused once more and they clung to each other.
When they had taken enough lover’s sustenance to survive apart for a short time, he questioned hoarsely, “Why are you here alone?”
Singing Wind explained her trying dilemma, and he embraced her gratefully. “I am glad you did not go to our camp,” he murmured into her ear, then told her of his mission today as the “ghost” of Gray Eagle, and of his overwhelming need to see her and hold her, and of his hope he would find her here.
“When Medicine Bear’s tepee was gone, I feared you were sleeping with Shining Feather, but I could see only one body there. I prayed you had not gone to my camp when my brother’s mind is on joinings. You must stand firm against them, my love, until this bitter problem is solved. I was sneaking back into the forest when I saw Medicine Bear’s tepee and came to check out my suspicion. Silver Hawk will pay for this black deed. He knows the outer tepees are the first ones to suffer attack from foes and he knows tepee placement indicates rank and honor. It is wicked of him to put the daughter of a chief and future mate of a chief in the last circle. He grows too bold.”
She caressed his cheek and coaxed, “Do not worry, my love; it is a trick to frighten me into joining Bright Arrow quickly.”
He took a lock of her silky ebony hair and rubbed it between his fingers as he stated, “But it is dangerous, my love. We have challenged the whites by attacking and defeating them. The others will be on the warpath soon. You must find someone to stay with until it is safe.”
She smiled mischievously and retorted, “Then, you could not sneak into my tepee to… visit me, and the vote to make you chief is far away. I cannot wait so long to have you again; I crave you more and more with each breath I take. This is meant to be.” She pulled his mouth to hers and fused them, ravenously feasting on his.
Sun Cloud became breathless and weak, and his body shuddered with rising need. It seemed he could not be near her like this without craving her wildly and completely. As if mesmerized, he watched her back away gracefully to halt in the large shaft of moonlight which came from the ventilation flap at the pinnacle of the tepee, which was spread to its fullest opening to encourage fresh air and soft light to enter. He was enthralled as she enticingly removed her garments and dropped them to the dirt floor. The silvery glow from overhead bathed her in an enchanting mixture of pale light and dim shadows. She remained there a time, allowing him to visually admire her captivating beauty and shape; then she stepped forward and boldly removed his garments. She grasped his hand, led him to her sleeping mat, and lay down, drawing him along with her. “We waste precious moments with talk which changes nothing. Make love to me,” she urged huskily.
His mouth closed over hers in a tantalizing and yearning kiss. He relished the thrill of her utter abandonment, her sweetness, her eagerness. He caused each inch of her face to tingle from his ardent kisses. He began a new trek toward mutual bliss when his mouth roamed down her throat to capture a passion-firm breast and to drive its peak to tautness with his stimulating action. His moist tongue delightfully circled and teased each brown point until she was writhing upon the fuzzy mat. He sucked upon each in turn as if drawing life-giving liquid from them, without which he would die quickly and painfully.
Singing Wind could not imagine how long he feasted upon her breasts before his lips sought hers once more. His kisses were urgent and intense, but he did not fuse their bodies too rapidly. Her fingers played wildly in his hair, for he always wore it loose. There was a heady scent about him which teased at her smelling sense and filled her head with sensually masculine images. Her stomach tensed, then relaxed, as his hand wandered very slowly over it and into her private domain. She shifted her thighs to make room for his loving labor, which he deftly performed with a pervasive effect. As if a highly trained warrior tracking his clever prey in a private forest with slow deliberation and enjoyment, he explored each area—lush mounds, a tiny peak, silky valleys, hidden crevices, and a dark and damp cave. She was nearly mindless with hunger, but still he whet her appetite.
Sun Cloud savored the way she was responding to his skills and rapturous torments. Their bodies and wills were pliant, and he artfully molded them to grant them the most pleasure. He inhaled sharply when her hand closed around his throbbing manhood and began to fondle it, creating exquisite sensations over his body, sensations perilous to his control over it. He was enslaved by her tantalizing caresses and her obvious delight with her ability to arouse him to a greater desire for her. After a short time, he gently and defensively pushed her hand aside to enter her, pausing to master his urge to take her swiftly. She sorely tested his restraint again as she arched to meet him and wrapped her legs around his and matched his rhythm perfectly.
The heights of their desires and her provocative enticements urged him to slake passion’s demands fiercely. His slow and gentle strokes became stronger and swifter as their hungers mounted with each one given and returned. They rode urgently toward the land of rapture until there was no holding back or stopping their brazen ecstasies from spilling forth and mingling rapturously. Still they labored lovingly and savagely as if there were no beginning or ending to their potent releases. When every spasm had ceased, they were drained and breathless, but still they clung to each other, kissing tenderly and sharing endearments.
They remained locked together, absorbing the emotions and touches which were vital to such a union. Their hearts surged with love and contentment as their sated passions responded to their closeness and this peaceful aftermath. They treasured what they had shared, and knew they would share forever. Their caresses and kisses were light as their bodies cooled and relaxed.
“I wish I did not have to take everything from my brother,” he murmured sadly into her ear. “Soon, he will lose you and the chief’s bonnet. He has been unhappy and incomplete for too long.”
“It is not our doing, my love,” she told him tenderly. “He blindly seeks what it not meant to be his. Grandfather is generous and kind; He will find other things to fill Bright Arrow’s life and heart.”
“I pray it is soon, my love, for it is hard to see him so empty and miserable. If I could give you to him to soften his heart and to help him, I would step aside, but I love you and need you too much.”
“In time, your sacrifices would not matter, for it is his true love that he longs for,” she whispered to comfort Sun Cloud.
“If only Wahea was alive and I could find her for him…”
At Fort Manuel the next morning, Rebecca Kenny packed her belongings to continue her exciting and intimidating trek home. They had traveled swiftly, for Manuel Lisa was not feeling well and was anxious to reach St. Louis; none realized how serious his illness was, nor that he would be dead soon after reaching his destination. As best she could judge, they were one hundred and fifty miles from her love’s territory, but the trip by boat on the Missouri River should pass rapidly. Her only problem was locating Gray Eagle’s summer camp, for it often changed locations as the buffalo did, and she could not risk asking suspicious questions about the Sioux. But she would worry about that predicament when she reached Fort Dakota, the nearest place to her love’s domain, a point from which she could solve this mystery and begin her final leg homeward.
She brushed her long auburn hair and let it fall loosely down her back. Her whiskey-colored eyes were bright and her cheeks were flushed with anticipation. Each mile covered caused her heart to race more forcefully and swiftly with mounting excitement and suspense. She hated to reveal her eagerness, which was nearly impossible, for she realized how difficult this momentous journey was for Jeremy Comstock, for he knew that her success
meant his defeat where she was concerned. Defeat, her mind echoed painfully. What if the defeat was hers? What would she do if Bright Arrow had a new life, and a new love?
If only their separation had not been so long. If only he knew she was still alive and on her way back to him. What if he did not understand about Jeremy Comstock, for he hated and battled whites? Yes, she had been forced to live with Jeremy for over a year, but she had never slept with him, no matter what others believed or what Jeremy had wanted. She frowned as she wondered if Bright Arrow had been as faithful to her during her lengthy absence. She would admit, at times, it had been hard to refuse the attentions of this gentle and ruggedly handsome male who loved her and desired her, and made those facts known as often as possible. And yes, at times, her denied and susceptible body had burned from unrequited passions and physical need. She had been tempted on a few occasions to yield to him, but she had not. Still, she knew it was different for men; men could enjoy and accept sex without love. She feared that in his loneliness and despair he had turned to another woman. Could she accept that situation? Sex, yes, she decided wisely, but not love. If he was married again, could she disrupt his new life? Perhaps it would be wiser to seek the truth and vital information from his best friend Windrider…
The detail to Fort Meade was ready to leave at dawn, a day earlier than planned, but General Cooper changed his mind. He decided it might be best if the detail traveled at night, for surely those sly Indians were waiting nearby to slaughter more of his soldiers and had perhaps learned of this mission as they had learned about his secret camp. Until he could figure out how they were getting their information, he must be extra careful and cunning. If the detail left during the night when the Indians were sleeping, they should reach the next fort safely. From there, he planned to send messages to the other forts in this territory. He would use one of Gray Eagle’s tricks; he would band the soldiers together and attack each camp in massive numbers and without warning, by making certain no clues were leaked to them. The more Indians they killed, the fewer were left to reunite to battle them. He knew his conflict was with the aggressive warriors and, at this point in his thoughts and command, he hated the idea of destroying camps filled with women and children and old folks; but it was necessary to end this bloody clash, and he was determined to do so and quickly. The warriors were to blame, for they were leaving him no choice…
The Oglalas enthusiastically gathered in the center of camp and waited for the Sacred Bow ritual/race to begin, for it was believed to yield powerful medicine for war and for peace. The sweat lodge had been prepared, and those involved had entered it earlier to purify themselves. Four posts, one representing each direction of the Medicine Wheel, were set in place beyond the circle of tepees and decorated with sacred symbols. The runners, including Sun Cloud, left the sweat lodge and allowed the shaman’s helpers to paint their bodies with the Medicine Bow colors and designs; then they gathered around the starting point which faced west. When the ceremonial chief gave the signal, the sacred race would be underway. Each man was to run to each post, seize an object from it, then race for the next one. The winner would be the man who returned to the ceremonial chief first and handed him the four tokens which he had collected. If a camp was large, as was the Oglala, the lengthy race called upon all of a man’s stamina and strength to run it, and especially to win it.
The ceremonial chief raised his hands, as did the participants, to evoke the spirits and powers which were a part of this ritual. Those of the lightning, wind, thunder, and hail were summoned. Those of the snake and bear, representing striking speed and strength, were summoned. The spirits of the air were summoned. Prayers were chanted.
The runners began to perform a special dance, dressed only in breechcloths. Their bodies were painted with designs which sent forth a message to the spirits and powers and depicted their purpose to those who observed this ceremony. The four sacred bows, four staffs, and four clubs were placed near the ceremonial chief, to be reclaimed by those who proved during this ritual that they deserved their ranks.
The ceremonial chief signaled for the race to begin. All tribe members fell silent, as this was a religious rite, not a sport or contest to be cheered. The runners raced westward, then back to touch the center pole, then raced eastward and back to the center pole, then southward and northward to complete this seasonal challenge. Sun Cloud handed the ceremonial chief his collected tokens first, then Night Rider and Thunder Spirit finished their race almost simultaneously, with Rising Elk and the other eight men following suit, one at a time. The twelve runners entered the sweat lodge once more to complete the last part of this ceremony with a final purification rite, rubbing their sweaty bodies with sweet and sage grasses afterward.
Although the Sun Dance was normally held after the buffalo hunt and when other bands joined them to perform this ceremony together, Mind-who-Roams had called for it to be carried out today, for his vision two days ago had commanded it in order to give the Oglalas special powers and guidance before they faced the bluecoats once more, and Indians always obeyed such divine commands.
Usually it was a twelve-day ritual which was divided into three periods of four-day events. The first four days were a time for feasting, to celebrate their recent and hopefully successful buffalo hunt, to show their unity, and to meet and talk with friends and family who had joined them for this special occasion. During this time, the shaman selected and instructed his helpers for the upcoming ritual, which included several high-ranking women to carry out the honored task of chopping down the sacred cottonwood tree for the Sun Dance pole.
During the next four days, the ceremonial dancers were chosen and instructed. All warriors knew these dances, but only those selected by the shaman could perform them during this ritual. The dancers met every day in the sacred lodge to practice each movement to make certain no errors were made and to be assigned the particular designs to be painted upon their bodies when their part in this ritual arrived.
The final four days were the most important, as the preparations for the Sun Dance would be completed. On day one, a warrior was chosen to locate a sturdy and straight cottonwood tree around thirty feet tall and with a fork at its top, which he marked with the appropriate symbol. Upon his return to camp, the Buffalo Dance was done. Any warrior could participate, using a buffalo bull’s skull which was painted in a special pattern with its openings stuffed with buffalo grass. The symbols, chosen and painted by the shaman, all dealt with the powers and forces of the sky: rain, hail, lightning, and wind.
On day two of this period, the female assistants located the tree which had been marked by the warrior yesterday, then summoned the tribe to watch them chop it down and carry it back to camp. On day three, the sacred cottonwood tree was prepared; its bark was stripped, and sacred symbols were painted and carved upon it. When it was placed in the center of camp, the warriors danced around it.
On day four, the chosen dancers were painted and prepared, for they were to dance and blow eagle-bone whistles throughout the Sun Dance, a feat which required and used much energy and stamina.
The men who had chosen to endure this ceremony gathered in the sweat lodge and purified themselves. There were several degrees of participation which a man could choose from, depending upon what he needed to say or accomplish with his action. Some men worked their way up to the final feat of sacrifice, and some chose the highest degree of difficulty and danger from the start. The lowest task was for men who only danced and chanted around the sacred pole for as long as they could move and speak. Others allowed tiny pieces of their flesh to be removed and placed at the base of the sacred pole. Others allowed their bodies to be pierced on their chest muscles and secured by thongs to the sacred pole, from which they were required to pull free. The Sun Dance did not end until all participants either pulled free, died trying, or had to yield defeat.
For those who chose the piercing, there were two ways to accomplish their tasks: they could stand on the ground, stretch the attached
thongs tight, then sway to and fro while blowing on eagle-bone whistles and trying to pull free; or they could be lifted into the air to hang suspended until their flesh gave away and released them. This last method was the most difficult and painful, and was rarely chosen; the last man who had attempted it and succeeded was Gray Eagle in 1805 when, at fifty-four, he had sought to prove he was still worthy to lead his people after his recovery from the Crow wound which had returned Bright Arrow to his people after his six-year exile.
Those who participated in the Sun Dance did so for themselves and for their people, for it summoned the blessings and guidance and protection of the Great Spirit and it declared their gratitude for all He had given to them and done for them.
This Sun Dance was different. The pole had been located and prepared, but the other parts of the ceremony would not be carried out this time. The men who had decided to participate had met in the sweat lodge to purify themselves and to choose which part of the ritual they would endure today. Those who had been dancers before were quickly reinstructed and painted, and they went to perform their task.
The tribe gathered around as the warriors left the sweat lodge and approached the shaman, each one revealing what part he would attempt. One by one, Mind-who-Roams prepared the men. Only three warriors chose to submit to the piercing, but standing on the ground. The last man stepped forward, selecting the lifted position: Sun Cloud.
Mind-who-Roams and his friends worriedly reminded him of the strenuous task Which he had just completed an hour ago, including two draining purification rites in the sweat lodge, which had caused most of the red and blue water-based body paints to wash away. The yellow oil-based designs on his face which represented stars and lightning bolts had smudged slightly, but were still noticeable.
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