"As I thank Him for giving you to me. When I saw Sroka and his band encircle you, I feared you would be lost to me. I sent many prayers to the Great Spirit to save you and return you to me. When you were taken to his camp, my fear grew larger and it was hard to have faith in our Creator. I did not wish to exist without you in my arms and life. My heart leapt with joy when the Spirit Dog guided me to you. I thanked Wakantanka and asked forgiveness for my doubts of Him and His powers. Then, I was forced to watch you challenge the Sun Dance and face death again. I must not lose you, mihigna, for you make my existence each sun and moon worthwhile."
"You will never lose me, mitawin, for we are bound as one forever, matched and joined by the Great Spirit, and blessed by Him."
Their mouths met in a kiss of deep commitment and endless love, as they united their bodies and sought sweet ecstasy. They murmured words of endearment as they traveled passion's wild and wonderful trail.
As they lay snuggled afterward, Wind Dancer remembered he had not told her about his vision following the ritual before they broke camp. He had wanted to wait until they had privacy, but decided this was not the time to share that bad news and risk spoiling this special moment.
Many suns passed as the Oglala and Brule bands carried out their daily and seasonal tasks, and many moons were filled with passionate encounters for Wind Dancer and Chumani. He continued to delay his revelation about his vision, as he did not want to raise fears and unhappiness until it became necessary. Both shamans, chiefs, and the Strong Hearts knew of the sacred message to him, but, they, too, did not want to alarm their families and people during this time of peace and hard work.
At last, they were compelled to relocate their camp again to follow the buffalo's movements. Then their tasks began anew.
Three suns after they relocated, scouts returned at midday to relate bad news to Chief Rising Bear, who summoned both councils and their warriors. Chumani, as the Vision Woman, was allowed to sit in on the grave meeting, but was not permitted to smoke the ceremonial pipe as it was passed from man to man until all had shared the breath of Wakantanka.
Nahemana stood to speak to the large gathering. "It is as my grandson saw in his vision after his Sun Dance ritual; Sroka and his people have not left our lands and must be driven out by force. Our scouts sighted their camp one sun's ride from this place. We must carry out the message given to Waci Tate. Speak, micinksi, and all will listen and obey."
Chumani watched her husband in confusion and dismay; she could not understand why he had not confided such important things to her. She listened in rising astonishment to what he had kept from her so long.
Wind Dancer rose. "When I was taken captive by Sroka, he revealed his plan to defeat us," he said. "He wanted to destroy all we possessed and prevent us from gathering food and other needs for the coming winter so we would freeze and starve and the Crow could steal our land. We will use his evil trick against him and destroy theirs. We must halt their threat to our people; we must attack his camp."
"How can we protect our camp while we attack his?" Blue Owl asked.
"Twenty Strong Hearts will be chosen from each band to carry out this deed while all other warriors remain here to defend our camp. The Strong Hearts will pull stones from a pouch; those with marks will join my war party, as will Red Feather, War Eagle, and Fire Walker."
Chumani realized neither her nor Zitkala's name had been included. She wondered why, but thought it best not to ask during the meeting.
"How can only forty warriors and four leaders attack such a large and powerful enemy?"
Wind Dancer looked at their war chief. "We will set fire to his camp. We will burn their lodges and the provisions they need to survive winter."
"Grass is dry in this season; fire will spread across the Plains."
"No. Blue Owl, the Great Spirit will not allow his creatures to be harmed or the face of Mother Nature to be destroyed, only our enemies. That is what I was shown in my vision."
"How will you make such a large and powerful fire?" Blue Owl continued to ask the questions which filled the others' minds.
"This is the plan shown to me in my vision," Wind Dancer said, and related it, causing many gazes to widen and many heads to nod in awe and agreement. "We will choose the war party now and ride out as soon as we gather our supplies. We will attack the Crow camp on the next moon."
Chumani was consumed by dread. Was there still a chance she could lose her beloved husband this season? Could his daring and dangerous plan succeed? How so when the Apsaalooke tribe was many and powerful? And why could she not go with him this time?
After they reached their tepee, Chumani asked, "Why did you not tell me about your vision? Why am I to be left here?"
Wind Dancer caressed her cheek. "After I found victory in the ritual, much happiness lived in your heart and life; I did not want to take them from you for a while," he began his answer. "I did not want worries of Sroka to dwell in your mind each sun and moon when they could change nothing looming ahead at a distance I did not know. It was the same for our people; they had much work to do and joy filled their hearts; we did not want to distract them from their tasks and bring them sadness and fear. I knew the Great Spirit would give us a warning when danger approached; that is why we sent scouts to search the area each sun."
By "we," Chumani knew he referred to their shamen, chiefs, and his Strong Hearts Society. Upon discovery of this secret, as the Vision Woman, she had been surprised that Sees-Through-Mist had not confided in her. She had been dismayed her father had not revealed such information to her and hurt and disappointed Wind Dancer had withheld the truth. Yet, her husband's motives were wise and kind ones, so she quashed those unjust feelings against him and the others. She listened and smiled as he continued.
"You must prepare to ride, micante, for you and Cetan go with us. Bring the magic eye with you. You will remain at a safe distance from their camp and watch for my signal. When you see it, you must tell Cetan to take flight. When the Strong Hearts see the hawk, that is the sign for them to fire the grass they have scattered around the fringe of Sroka's camp. The blaze will trap our enemies within its circle and will eat into their camp."
"Why does Zitkala not ride with us?" Chumani asked.
"Her presence as a woman would distract the men, for they have not ridden with her and viewed her great prowess. Red Feather, too, would be distracted from his duty in protecting her from the attention of the others; and he must live."
"How will my husband and the Strong Hearts fight so many warriors after they strike against your party?"
"If we remain hidden to their eyes, they will believe an evil spirit attacks them in this new camp as one did in their old one; it should frighten them from our lands forever. The grass is dry and will burn fast; a ring of fire will stop them from leaving their camp to find us. Its flames will eat at many lodges, winter foods, possessions, and weapons. They will not be strong enough without those things to attack us again."
"It is a sly plan, mihigna, " Chumani said with admiration. "It will be a great coup for you and your war party. It will avenge the deaths of Raven and your horses and your abuse."
"We do not take captives to live in our camp. When Omaste was given to my father long ago, she was treated well. For those who take captives from the Whites or other tribes, it is wrong to treat them with cruelty."
"That is good and wise, and it is the same for the White Shields. Now we must ready ourselves, for soon the others will await our leaving."
Zitkala approached their tepee and called out for permission to enter, though the flap was thrown aside. "Is there help you need, Dewdrops?"
Wind Dancer summoned the Brule woman into their lodge and smiled at her. "Dewdrops will tell you what you desire to know after I am gone." He told his wife what he needed for his mission so she could pack those things while he went with Red Feather and War Eagle to fetch items stolen from the keelboat and homesteads which were hidden nearby.
As she worked
, Chumani related Wind Dancer's concerns to her best friend. "I know staying behind troubles your spirit, Zitkala, but his words are wise. If you have not peered into the river or the trader's looking glass, you do not know how you have changed. No eyes could gaze upon you now and mistake you for a man; you have become much of a woman."
Zitkala, clad in a doeskin dress and wearing a feathered and beaded thong in her flowing hair, could not resist smiling upon hearing that news. She had checked her appearance several times recently on the water's surface and in a "mirror." She had been afraid to trust her eyes to speak the truth she saw there, but Chumani had just confirmed her hope and her best friend would never deceive her, even for a good reason.
"How could the Strong Hearts without wives think of their tasks when you filled their gazes?" Chumani half jested. "How could Red Feather do his perilous deeds when he feared another might attempt to steal your eye and heart from him?"
Exhilarated, Zitkala embraced Chumani. "It is the work of the Great Spirit and Mother Nature, for I have done little to make myself different. They have blessed me with this change, for Red Feather can now join a female who does not look or behave as a man."
"You have revealed your love and desire to him, and he feels the same way about you. I eagerly await your joining when we reach our winter camp. I along with many others, will help you sew and erect your new tepee, as is our custom. It will be their show of thanks to you for all you have done."
Before Zitkala could respond, Wind Dancer and Red Feather returned and said they must leave shortly. Chumani suggested their best friends share a short privacy while she and her husband loaded their horses, to which both men agreed.
Soon the war party rode away as their people stood watching their departure. Many guards were posted around the encampment, and scouts took their places beyond to watch for trouble and to send forth a warning-a flaming arrow shot skyward-if necessary. The others returned to their tasks of hunting and preparing buffalo and doing daily chores.
Chumani, with Cetan sitting nearby, observed the furtive action beyond her concealed position. Dusk was rapidly departing. Beneath a moonless and ominous sky, it was becoming difficult to see her companions as they carried out their daring tasks; if not for the powerful fieldglass, she could not sight them at all. They were clad only in breechclouts and moccasins, allowing them to move silently. Their dark hair was covered with wide strips from deerhides, its shade blending with the color of the grass during this time of the summer season.
She had watched her small party scatter a thick layer of dried grass around the fringe of the enemy camp and make piles of it to the rears of their tepees in the last ring. They had even tossed bunches between those lodges to prevent allowing any escape path. The men had poured lantern oil, contained in water bags and stolen from the wasicun, atop the yellowed grass and splashed it upon the backs of those same outer tepees. Each of the men had two matches and rough rock, the magic sticks she had gotten from the evil trader at Pierre. She hated to think about children and women being harmed, but they, too, were vicious enemies who had been brutal to her husband. Her party was doing to Sroka and his people what they had planned to do to hers.
She knew why their presence had gone unnoticed: Besides the cunning stealth and cloaks they used, the distant guards had been located with the spy-glass and slain, a brewing storm had summoned all hunters and butcherers back to camp, and the Crow were gathered in the center area to feast, sing, and dance around a large fire. She could hear the pounding beats of their drums, muffled vocables, and rare shout of exuberance. Their enemies were so intent upon their activities that they failed to grasp their peril. As her party crawled on their bellies toward their target, she sighted the Old Woman's companion leading the camp dogs away, so those animals were not there to bark warnings.
Chumani could not help but recall the last time they had seen Sroka was also on a night of the Black Moon. Yet, she was confident the plan would succeed, as the timing with nature and the spirits was perfect. She saw Wind Dancer, a tepee concealing him from their enemies' view, lift and wave his arms just as the remaining daylight was almost gone. "It is time for you to help us, Cetan. Fly, my friend, fly," she coaxed, and the hawk obeyed.
With the signal given and received, Chumani saw sparks in the increasing shadows, and soon a glowing barrier encircled the camp. Flames wriggled up tepee surfaces as if they were dazzling snakes following the paths and feasting on the lantern oil. She saw the spaces between their lodges join the other flames' work. It was as if daylight had returned to the setting. The drumming halted. Screams and yells erupted from the entrapped people in the center clearing. Some Crow grabbed blankets and hides to beat at the flames, others tossed water from bags upon them. Horses sent forth frantic whinnies, and some broke free of their tethers; those animals raced between the lodges seeking an escape path, some leaping over the flames, and some trampling possessions and supplies.
Shortly after Cetan and her companions rejoined Chumani, the storm broke overhead and a deluge of rain began. The greedy flames were doused; the horses and Crow were spared, though some were injured. The grassland was saved from destruction. The enemy camp was heavily damaged.
As the combined Red and White Shield party lay on the hillside and watched the event unfold, they talked in excited and awed tones about the accuracy of Wind Dancer's vision and their great victory. They were being drenched by the rain, but that did not matter to them. Sounds of constant thunder had replaced those of the enemy's drums. The wind's pace had increased. Evening air had cooled. Radiant charges danced across the dark sky and allowed glimpses of their wounded target. They saw no band attempting to mount and seek out an attacker; their foes appeared too busy trying to save their remaining possessions, and were perhaps confused and misled by the cause of the fire. They did not care if the Crow believed they had been assailed by evil spirits or violent nature; they had been weakened badly, and that was the aim.
While they had use of the lightning's recurrent flashes to guide them during the moonless night, they left to head back to their people. They would travel for as long as nature's torches allowed them to see the terrain ahead, then camp until sunrise to complete their journey. War Eagle and three men without wives stayed behind to observe the Crow to see if they left and where they traveled if they did so.
Chumani had given her husband's brother the "magic eye" so he could do his task from a safe distance away. She was certain the Crow would have neither the time nor means to retaliate, and would be compelled to seek a safe area where they could prepare themselves again for winter. For a while, she hoped, they should be safe, if no other enemy decided to attack them.
The following night in their tepee, Chumani lay snuggled against her husband's virile body with her head resting at the crook of his arm. She smiled to herself as she recalled their heartwarming welcome after a glorious victory over Sroka and his tribe. "Our deeds give our families and people great joy and pride, mihigna, "Chumani said happily. "Our alliance is a good one."
"That is true, mitawin. Soon our task here will be finished and we must leave to make our winter camp in the sacred Paha Sapa. The hot season has begun its journey away from our land; the face of Mother Earth is changing. Grass grows from green and yellow to brown. Berries, plants, and flowers will be gone shortly, and the buffalo will roam to its wintering grounds. We have much meat and hides; the cold season which travels slowly toward us will not harm us as our enemies planned. Perhaps while we are sealed in our tepee when it snows, a child will be given to us."
"Surely that is true, mihigna, for our sacred task will be over before cold winds blow over our land. And you do try many times to plant your seeds within me," she added as she laughed and tickled his ribs.
Wind Dancer squirmed and chuckled as he captured her playful hand. "There is much joy and pleasure in doing that work." He kissed her fingers.
"It is . . . `work' to arouse and sate us, my love?" she teased him as she pulled her forefinger fr
ee of his grasp and traced his lips with it.
"My tongue spoke too swiftly as you clouded my mind with your magic. It is large and powerful, Dewdrops, and I cannot resist its force."
"There is no need to do so, my love, and I eagerly yield to yours."
"We are well matched, micante, " he murmured against her palm before pressing kisses to her warm flesh.
Chumani quivered with delight. "That is true, mihigna. Why do you not begin your task, for there is much . . . `work' to do before we sleep? You are a skilled hunter, provider, and protector; you must seek your prey, feed this great hunger within me, and defend me against the pain of denial."
In one sweeping motion, Wind Dancer rolled his cherished wife to her hack and lay half atop her. "My hunt will begin here," he murmured as his mouth met hers....
On the eighth sun following the fiery attack on Sroka's camp, War Eagle and the Strong Hearts returned at a swift gallop. They dismounted with haste, handing their tethers to young boys with a quick request the animals be tended, and rushed to the Red Shield chief's tepee. The shout which had gone up at their rapid approach had summoned Rising Bear to greet them, as it had others. A crowd gathered to listen and observe.
"We rode as the wind after they camped, but the journey to their new location was reached slowly," War Eagle divulged. "It is not good news, my father and people. They gather with many Crow bands beyond Rabbit Creek where large rocks were spit forth from Mother Earth and many trees grow."
"That is only two suns fast ride from our sacred Bear Mountain!"
Lakota Winds (Zebra Historical Romance) Page 30