The Oglala camp was busy the next day with warrior selections and preparations for the departure of the two war parties, headed by Sun Cloud and Bright Arrow. Plans were made for the hunters and guards for their camp. Families spoke words which could be their last ones. An aura of apprehension and excitement filled the air.
Little Feet hated to release the man in her arms, for she had waited years to have him. Her hazel eyes attempted to memorize each line and feature on his face, as if she did not already know them by heart. Her arms tightened around his waist and she rested her auburn head against his drumming heart. She could tell how much he hated to leave her side too, for his embrace was almost painful and he could not speak. “I love you, Thunder Spirit; I have always loved you, and I will always love you, only you,” she murmured, then spread kisses over his chest and neck, then sealed her mouth to his.
The warrior’s arms crushed her against his hard body and his mouth urgently feasted on hers. When the kissing bout ended, his left hand buried itself in her hair and pressed her head snugly near his pounding heart. He was glad that he and Sun Cloud had not been able to sneak from the war camp this morning, for it would have denied him these precious hours with his love. Pretty Woman, his father’s second wife, had kept Little Feet’s two sons so they could be alone. They had made love as if it were the only chance they would be given in an entire life span; yet he was consumed by desire for her again, though there was no time left to enjoy it or appease it. It would be days before he returned home, and this parting was difficult.
“My father and others will protect you and care for your needs until I return. Do not let fear live in your heart; I will be safe. No man would dare take me from my love, not even Grandfather,” he teased. “Soon, we will have peace in our lands once more; Grandfather has revealed this to Sun Cloud. I love you and I will miss you.”
“Take no risks, my love, even if you are a Sacred Bow carrier.”
“I will be careful, for I have sons to teach and train, and a wife to enjoy.” He kissed her and smiled, then went to join Sun Cloud.
Bright Arrow and Sun Cloud looked at each other, then embraced. “Guard your life, my brother, for our people need you.”
Sun Cloud smiled and replied, “As they need you, my brother and my friend. Watch all directions and be safe. My love goes with you.”
Sun Cloud’s band rode eastward and Bright Arrow’s rode southward. As they traveled, each pushed distracting thoughts aside and planned his strategy. Victory or defeat was now in the Great Spirit’s hands.
In the Cheyenne camp, Windrider was saying farewell to his wife and children. The war chief’s gaze scanned his love’s silvery blond hair and sky-blue eyes. He had never been sorry for taking a white woman to his heart and mat, and he was glad his people and others had never protested; as Bonnie Thorne, his captive, she had saved his tribe from total destruction from smallpox and had prevented the spread of the white man’s dreaded disease to other tribes.
Most called Sky Eyes his second wife, but she had been his third. His first wife, Kajihah, Soul-ofThunder’s mother and the mother of the two daughters lost to smallpox, had been weak and evil, and she had died from such wickedness. His second wife, Sucoora, had been released to marry White Antelope, after Windrider had found and fallen in love with Bonnie Thorne. But all of that had happened long ago.
Windrider joined his oldest son outside and observed the love which passed between his son and his new wife, Tashina. It was good they had joined; it was good to have his best friend’s daughter as his own now.
Tashina’s heart was filled with panic and dread, for her husband was a dog-rope wearer and they were heading into fierce battle. “If you do not return to me, I shall die, Soul-of-Thunder. I love you.”
She looked at Windrider and pleaded, “Guard him closely, my father, and be prepared to give the barking signal if all goes bad, for he cannot retreat without it. Bring him home safely to me, and I will serve you as a slave forever.”
Windrider embraced her fondly, for he had known her since her birth and she was special to him. “He will return to you; I swear it.”
Despite the many onlookers, Tashina and Soul-ofThunder hugged and kissed, then he mounted. Their gazes locked and they spoke mutely and tenderly. As she watched him ride away, tears dampened her lashes and she scolded her weakness.
Bonnie “Sky Eyes” Thorne put her arm around Tashina and said, “Come, we will work and talk to ease our worries.”
In the Blackfeet camp, Shining Feather did her chores slowly near the river, for Silver Hawk had ordered her to stay out of their tepee until he left camp. Her love for him had vanished, for he had become cruel during this past winter and had not touched her gently since then, if he touched her at all. She was glad he no longer desired her, but she was not glad it was because of his evil and because of Little Flower. She longed to return home to her Cheyenne people, but she and her parents would be dishonored if she left a chief, and who would believe such black evil of him? How she wished she knew what vile mischief he was committing. She would expose him.
Shining Feather scrubbed her clothes roughly as she expended energy to appease her anger. She wondered why Singing Wind had been asking her such curious questions about her life with Silver Hawk and about their life with Little Flower. She had not dared to relate her brother’s wickedness, for the malevolent male would surely kill both of them! She had seen Little Flower speaking with Singing Wind on the past moon, and she fretted over what the foolish girl might have revealed, for this second wife knew little about their husband’s flaws and cruelty, or how he had others fooled by his false face. No, that was not true, Soining Feather refuted her own words. Little Flower’s mood and expressions said she had been introduced to their husband’s malicious ways. She hated to imagine what Little Flower was enduring at this moment, but she could not help her. They were both trapped. All she could do was pray for Silver Hawk’s death, and sweet freedom.
In the tepee of Silver Hawk, he was glaring at the bound and gagged female upon his sleeping mat. He had spoken with his sister, and Singing Wind had questioned him boldly and persistently about his treatment of his wives. He had threatened to send her away if she did not marry Bright Arrow when they returned to camp. He had been furious when his sister had refused and shouted “Never!” at him. In her anger, she had exposed Little Flower’s careless words about her fears of him and her desire to return home.
In her anger, Singing Wind had ridden from camp; no doubt, he decided, to cool her temper and to quake in fear of his threat and punishment! He had entered his tepee and ordered Shining Feather to vanish until his departure. He knew his first wife was too weak and scared to disobey him or to speak against him, but Little Flower…His Oglala wife was different. She carried a weakness of another kind, a rash weakness. Shining Feather was too proud to expose her shame and strong enough to bear it silently. Little Flower believed others would help her escape him and she cared nothing about others’ thoughts of her. He would teach her a lesson which would silence her!
He scoffed with a sneer, “You are a fool, Little Flower. I should cut your tongue from your careless mouth. If you speak to my sister or others about me again, I will do so. You cannot harm me or leave me, for I am a chief. Others will think you mad if you make such rash charges against me. I would be forced to whip you at the post to cure you. No one will believe you or help you. If you speak to your father, I will tell him and all others that I beat you because you had given your treasure to Sun Cloud before you joined to me. I will say you cried and begged for my forgiveness. All will praise me for punishing you and for being kind enough to keep a stained woman so your father and people would not suffer from your shame. My charges against you could have you beaten, dishonored, and banished.”
He laughed coldly and madly. “Who would doubt my words? Who would challenge me to save you? Not Sun Cloud. Not any warrior. Keep silent, or I will punish you every sun and moon,” he warned.
After Silv
er Hawk’s departure, Shining Feather entered the tepee to find Little Flower weeping and injured. Her anger and hatred mounted. As she tended and comforted the girl, she vowed, “When he returns, Little Flower, we must slay him in his sleep. We will say an enemy sneaked into our tepee and killed him. We will burn his weapons and say they were stolen. I will bind you and strike myself upon the head. We will say something frightened the foe and he left swiftly before harming or capturing us. We must be free of him.”
Between sniffles, Little Flower weakly protested, “But he is a chief, a warrior. Grandfather will expose us and we will be punished. It is wrong to kill. He is our husband.”
“He is cruel and evil. He must die. Grandfather wishes us to slay him, for He has finally given me the courage to do it. Hear me, Little Flower, this is a mild punishment. He can do worse, and he will. Do you wish to live this way, or be free and happy again? We cannot be free of him until he is dead. You must help me.”
Little Flower recalled what Silver Hawk had done to her on their joining night in the forest and what he had done to her today. He had no right to abuse her, to humiliate her, to hurt her. She had done nothing wrong by desiring him! “Yes, I will help you slay him.”
Chapter Nineteen
By Wednesday night, everything was in progress. The three war parties were en route to carry out their interceptive assignments on the trails to the other forts, and the joint Cheyenne and Sisseton bands were initiating their strategy of terror and entrapment at Fort Dakota.
While many soldiers were being slain and valuable supplies were being stolen or destroyed, no enlightening shout or warning shot pierced the peaceful aura of the encampment, as warriors were masters of the art of hand-killing without a sound. As silently and effortlessly as a feather drifts on a breeze, the Indians sneaked into the area, skillfully performed their lethal or plunderous duties, and stealthily retreated. Over each soldier’s missing scalplock, they laid two plumes—large tail feathers from a bluejay and an eagle—which were bound with a blade of bunch grass and held in place by sticky blood. On the men’s possessions or tents or ruined goods, the same warning sign was painted, or scratched with a blade, whenever there was time. All but one Crow scout were gone; he was slain, and the Crow females and children were taken captive.
The three tribes of skilled warriors took turns working all night to achieve the largest victory possible by the next morning. When it arrived, not a warrior had been seen, much less injured or captured. The world seemed so peaceful on this lovely day, until the grim discovery of the Indians’ brazen deed; then the alarm was issued loudly.
The men were placed on constant alert, but ordered to hold their positions outside the fort walls. “If those red bastards think they’ll frighten me, they’re fools!” Cooper shrieked in outrage. He walked around the fort and surveyed the awesome damage, mainly the men’s fears. “That Gray Eagle, if he’s still alive, is damned clever. He knows these pea-brained men who call themselves soldiers are scared stiff of him. Hellfire, they think his ghost is after them!”
Cooper knew better than to send out patrols into the “waiting arms of those savages,” and he was provoked by his helplessness and defeat. He had never tangled with this type of enemy and situation before, and he was baffled by how to conquer them. Although he refused to admit it, he was scared and worried, and had nightmares about his first defeat. He and his sentries could not detect any movement nearby, but he sensed the Indians’ presence, a presence which infuriatingly caused his entire body to itch with alarm. He was eager for the arrival of his reinforcements so he could teach them a brutal lesson. As he made his rounds to each company which was camped outside the fort, he tried to reason, then shame, the men out of their fears, but he failed; maybe because he was not totally successful with concealing his own trepidation, and he despised the Indians for those feelings. His fury mounted as he realized the men seemed more afraid of Gray Eagle than of him or the Army. When many of the men pleaded or demanded to be allowed inside the fort’s walls, Cooper’s face went red with rage and his body was assailed by tremors and heat. The veins near his temples were pulsing noticeably as he vented his fury on the troops.
“You infernal cowards! If you’re so scared out here, me and my officers will camp out with you tonight! Every man that leaves his post will lose two months’ pay. And if any of you try to desert, I hope those Injuns get you and cut out your lily-livers. I’ve fought in many battles with odds greater than these, but my men have never had yellow streaks down their backs. You know we’ve got reinforcements coming, so settle down. If those red bastards had caught our scouts, they would have dumped their bodies on us last night to make us think we’re cut off from help. They didn’t; so that means our men got through, or will in a day or two. When they get back, we’ll show those Injuns how real men fight. I expect every man to kill at least ten savages for every friend or soldier we’ve lost. And another thing,” he shouted to them, “Gray Eagle is dead. Butler’s men killed him. This,” he sneered as he crumpled the two bound feathers in his hand, then flung them to the dirt to grind them beneath his booth, “is nothing more than a clever scare tactic. I bet those Injuns are watching you right now and laughing their heads off at the way you’re all quaking in your boots and pissing in your pants. Are you men or babies?”
“How can we defend ourselves against braves who move like shadows? We didn’t see or hear nothing all night, sir,” one soldier protested the slur on his courage and honor.
As if utterly insentient, Cooper scoffed, “Then make sure each tent keeps a guard posted tonight. If you let them sneak in here and slay you or your friends or fellow soldiers, you deserve to die. Damn it, man! They’re soldiers; we’re soldiers; we’re at war. It’s kill or be killed. The choice is yours. You’re not saying those heathen savages are smarter and braver than American soldiers, are you?”
“Course not, sir. But I was—”
Cooper interrupted him harshly, “No buts, soldier. It’s yes or no. It’s live or die. I haven’t lost a battle yet, and I don’t aim to let these uncivilized wretches do me in. I’ll confess they caught me with my pants down last week, but they’re up now and buckled tight. I recognize those savages for the devils they are, and we’re gonna send them back to Hell. Stick with me, and I’ll make sure you live.”
“Listen tae General Cooper an’ ye won’t be sorry,” Colonel Timothy Moore advised. “Nae better leader kin be found. These redskins hope tae win by makin’ ye run in fear. Stand ye ground, lads. Timothy Moore hae faced ‘em many ae time; they kin be whipped. We’re brave an’ strong lads, an’ soon we’ll outnumber ‘em. I’ll gie each o’ ye ae dollar fur ever’ one ye slay. Ye want tae hae plenty o’ money fur lassies an’ whiskey? Then earn ye bonus with Injun blood and scalps.”
Cooper was surprised by Moore’s offer and impressed by the man’s cleverness, for it got the men’s attention and interest. Suddenly, many were laughing and talking about how they planned to earn it and spend it. The bold reward had relaxed the men, and instilled false courage. Cooper whispered, “That was a rash statement, Tim, but you’ll have to stand by it. How do you plan to pay off such a large debt?”
Moore stared him straight in the eye and replied quietly, “Ye hae best pray I’ll make ae large debt tae settle with my savin’s. Ye still underestimate these savages, Phillip. Ye’re right; they be from tha divil an’ they got ‘is luck an’ pow’r an’ evil. This is nothin’ more ‘an ae taunt. Ye hae better hope ye reinforcements arrive, fur ye kin bet they hae war parties on their tails. We canna sit ‘ere an’ do nothin’. When they dump those bodies in our laps, it’ll be tae late tae work an’ worry. We got tae think of somethin’ real clever an’ very soon, an’ we will,” he asserted confidently, then coldly eyed the forest.
Cooper studied the blue-eyed flaming-haired man and asked, “You aren’t teasing, are you? Those damn bastards are trying to wipe out all of us! You had a spy in your fort, that Sisseton scout Fire Brand; you think they’ve got a spy he
re, or we’ve got a traitor?”
“Nae, it’s tha work o’ tha Eagle’s son. He taught ‘em well. Not tae worry, sir; this time, those babe birds are mine. Tha bes’ we kin do is let ‘em play ae while, an’ ignore ‘em.”
“Ignore them?” Cooper echoed skeptically. “Look at this mess.”
“We were lax, sir. We bes’ make sure it dinna happen ag’in. They’re waitin’ fur their war parties tae wipe out our reinforcements an’ return ‘ere tae attack us. It canna work, sir. Four bands defeated? Nae, sir, never. Relax. We’ll win this time,” he vowed sardonically.
“I hope to hell you’re right, Tim, because I have this powerful urge to massacre every one of them, including their breeders and brats. The only way to rid ourselves of this problem is to squash it into the ground, then prevent it from reoccurring. What do you think?”
Timothy Moore grinned wickedly and replied, “Ye be right an’ clever, sir. Nae women, nae babies; nae babies, nae warriors; nae warriors, nae war. Nothin’ could be simpler, sir, nothin’.”
“You think the men will go for total annihilation?”
“After this?” Moore hinted, nodding to their bloody surroundings. “An’ their next attack? Ye kin bet on it, sir,” he declared with a merry laugh. “I sae we dinna leave ae single one alive an’ kickin’.”
“I say, you’re right,” Cooper agreed, then joined Moore’s chuckles. “Let’s get some crafty plans to brewing,” he suggested eagerly.
Thursday night, in spite of every precaution, more soldiers were killed and more supplies lost. This time, however, two warriors were slain. As promised, Cooper and his officers had camped outside with the men, but had made certain they had heavy and competent guards.
Moore stopped Cooper from humiliating the nervous men again, warning him that many men were close to the panic edge, which could cause trouble. He cautioned him about how important it was to retain the men’s loyalty and confidence, and how rash it could be to provoke them with insults. A terrified man was an unpredictable man, and an undependable one. Moore concluded that the Indians did not want to attack during the night, so he wondered just how many were hiding in the forest nearby. Perhaps only a small band of elite warriors, he mused. Moore advised Cooper to allow the anxious men to enter the fort at dark and to sleep inside, or their terror could mount and get the best of them. The man with fiery hair hung the lifeless warriors’ bodies from the supporting post over the fort gate. Taking his sword, he malevolently hacked at them, laughing and dancing about playfully as if it were some game or sport. Moore knew he was being observed by dark eyes in the forest, and he knew nothing pained or riled an Indian more than having a friend’s body chopped up like firewood.
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