Brave Warrior

by Ann Hood

  “There’s no time for that!”

  Worm turned toward Curly, puzzled.

  “There are white soldiers approaching,” Curly said. “We must move on.”

  But Worm shook his head firmly. “You must have your vision quest.”

  “It is different now, Father,” Curly said sadly.

  “First, I will teach you. Then you will go in sweat lodge for purification.”

  With each thing his father said, Curly’s jaw set even harder.

  “Then,” Worm continued, “you will jump into the river. Then—”

  “There’s no time!” Curly said, his voice hard and angry.

  Felix came up beside Maisie, still beaming with accomplishment.

  “I got a first coup,” he said, boasting. “Went right up to the scariest Comanche and—”

  “Ssshhh,” Maisie ordered him.

  “You need to find your spirit guide,” Worm was saying. “You need to find your way.”

  “Fine,” Curly said. “I will go on my vision quest right now.”

  “Now?” Worm said, surprised.

  “I believe the Great Mystery will understand,” Curly said.

  “What’s going on?” Felix whispered.

  But Maisie didn’t answer.

  “You are not ready now, son.”

  “Watch me,” Curly said.

  With that, he turned and began to walk off, away from his father and the village.

  Maisie did not hesitate. If Curly could break all the rules and go off on his vision quest, then so could she.

  CHAPTER 8

  Vision Quest

  Curly spun around angrily.

  “A vision quest is done alone,” he told Maisie. His hands made a shooing motion.

  “I won’t bother you,” she said. “I need to know my life path, too,” she added.

  “Your life path?” Curly spat. “You and your people will take our land. Kill our buffalo. Kill our people.”

  “No!” Maisie said, shaking her head even though she knew that of course he was right. White settlers did take land and kill the buffalo. She shivered, remembering the attack at Yellow Feather’s village just a day ago.

  “Leave me alone,” Curly said. He turned away from Maisie and continued to walk away.

  Maisie looked around. The craggy white rocks jutted out of the ground, seeming to cut into the sky. It was so quiet here that she shivered again in the silence. She didn’t want to go back to the village, and she didn’t want to stay here alone. That meant she had to follow Curly, even if he didn’t like it.

  She kept a good distance behind him as he moved swiftly through the trees. Eventually, Curly came to a stop. Maisie watched him survey the area around him. Satisfied, he sat on the ground, his back straight, his head held high. If this was where Curly believed he would have a vision, then Maisie believed she would get one here, too.

  She sat on the warm grass and waited.

  After only ten minutes, Maisie heard twigs snapping behind her. Could this be her spirit guide already? she wondered eagerly.

  Slowly, she turned to see what her spirit guide was. She imagined a wolf, a snake, an owl.

  But instead, she found Felix standing there, sweating and panting.

  “Is this the spot?” he asked.

  “People go on vision quests alone,” Maisie told him, disappointed.

  “Really? Then why did you follow Curly?”

  “Because I didn’t know where to go, that’s why,” Maisie said. She closed her eyes, pretending her brother hadn’t just showed up.

  “I’ll just sit over there and wait for my vision,” Felix said.

  Maisie peered out beneath her eyelids as Felix scampered off. She lost sight of him quickly. Good. He didn’t need a spirit guide or a vision to find out his life’s direction. His path was set: class president, Mr. Popularity, friend to everyone. She was the one who needed guidance, not Felix.

  Minutes ticked away.

  Then hours.

  Maisie’s legs grew numb, and she stood to shake out the pins and needles. How would she ever last out here for four days like this?

  The sun was getting low in the sky. Soon night would fall. It would be cold. And dark.

  Maisie tried to remember if she had ever been completely alone before. The idea frightened her.

  Felix is somewhere nearby, she reminded herself.

  Maybe it would be okay if she moved just a little bit closer to him, she decided. Careful not to make noise, she walked along until she spotted her brother through the trees. Curly was up that hill, and Felix was right over there in a clearing. Satisfied, she sat back down and waited. Who would have imagined that going on a vision quest was so boring?

  She watched as Felix stretched out on the grass and stared up at the sky.

  That seemed like a good idea, Maisie thought.

  She stretched out, too, and stared up at the pines. It was hard to really see anything. Of course Felix had picked a better spot, a clearing with wide-open spaces. He would be able to see birds and deer and just about anything. And Curly was up on a hill, with a view that went on for miles. She was never going to have a vision here.

  Frustrated, Maisie got up and moved closer to Felix. She sat at the edge of the trees but on the grass where the clearing began. Yes, she decided, this was better. Once again she stretched out and stared up at the unobstructed sky. It had turned from blue to every shade of purple as the sun set.

  Pretty, Maisie thought.

  She waited.

  Felix woke with a start. All around him was blackness. Usually he would be afraid alone in the dark like this. But for some reason that he couldn’t understand, he felt calm. When he looked up into the sky, it was illuminated with a warm glow from the moon. The stars twinkled above him, and wispy clouds moved past. He had never really seen a face in the moon before, but tonight he could make out kindly eyes, a sharp nose, even a wide mouth.

  “Hello, moon,” Felix said softly.

  He sat up, stretching his back. Sleeping on the ground was not comfortable at all, and he ached everywhere.

  Felix thought he heard footsteps. He listened hard. Yes, those were footsteps.

  “Maisie?” he said, his voice sounding small in the night.

  The footsteps stopped.

  “Curly?” he asked into the dark.

  The feeling of calm that he’d had moments earlier disappeared. He tried not to think of all the things that might be out here. Wild animals. Angry Comanche. Poisonous snakes.

  “Hello?” he squeaked.

  The footsteps resumed, pounding toward him.

  A tall figure appeared in front of him. Felix could just make out the shape of what looked like a man walking slightly hunched over.

  “Curly?” he said again, even though this guy seemed much bigger than Curly.

  Felix blinked.

  This guy was much, much bigger than Curly.

  Suddenly, the figure dropped to all fours and moved slowly toward Felix, who scooted backward, feeling rocks and twigs scrape against his bottom.

  Now it was only ten feet away, and it once again got to its feet, towering over Felix in the darkness.

  Felix looked up and up, straight into the face of a brown bear.

  He tried to think of what a person was supposed to do when they saw a bear. Once, he and his father had watched a National Geographic television special about bears. He couldn’t remember if he should climb a tree or roll into a ball and play dead. But he could remember that there were thirty bear attacks a year on people. There must have been a lot more back in the 1800s, Felix thought. Then he realized that the bear wasn’t coming any closer.

  It just stood there, staring at him.

  Felix wondered if it could actually hear his heart, which was pounding so loud that it rang in Felix’s ears.

  The bear dropped to all fours again.

  And then it turned around and walked away.

  Felix stared after it in disbelief.

  He sat, tr
ying to slow his breathing, waiting for the fear to leave his body. When he finally stopped trembling, a thought came to him.

  “Maisie!” Felix called, scrambling to his feet. “I just had my vision!”

  Maisie was asleep when she heard Felix calling her name. She jolted awake. Something must have happened to him. His voice was so shrill and excited she couldn’t make out what he was saying.

  Wait. Did he just say something about a bear?

  She started to run in his direction, until she almost bumped right into him.

  “It’s a bear!” Felix was shouting.

  When she heard what he said next, Maisie’s heart fell.

  “My spirit guide is a bear!”

  “You saw something?” Maisie asked.

  Felix nodded. “A giant brown bear. Maybe ten feet tall on two legs. He came right up to me and just stood there staring.”

  “You probably dreamed that,” Maisie said.

  “No, no,” he insisted. “It was huge. And it was real.”

  “Well, good for you,” Maisie said, and she stomped off as noisily as she could, back to her spot.

  “Wait!” Felix said, hurrying to catch up to her. “What do you think it means?”

  “That you’re overbearing, maybe,” she said. “Leave me alone. I need to have my own vision.”

  “Maisie,” Felix said, and she caught a glimpse of him standing helplessly, his hands raised as if in surrender, before she lost sight of him in the dark.

  Maisie’s stomach grumbled with hunger. She could see red berries hanging from nearby bushes, and nuts littered the ground. But she refused to eat anything. The idea was to go without food or water for four days. If that was what it took for a real vision quest, then Maisie was going to do it, even though she felt dizzy and weak after just two nights. So dizzy and weak that she tripped easily over a rock and landed hard on her back.

  Tears sprang to her eyes.

  After Felix woke her up, she’d spent the rest of that night angry at the unfairness of life. She hadn’t fallen back asleep until the sun came up. Then she’d wandered, dispirited and hungry, studying the rocks and the trees, desperate for a sign, an omen, anything.

  Last night she’d fallen asleep soon after dark, and she had woken this morning disappointed. No bear had come to her. Nothing had. She hadn’t even had a dream. And now here she was, flat on her back, defeated. Hot tears stung her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

  You’ll get tears in your ears from crying on your back.

  Maisie balked. She thought she heard her father’s voice, as clear as if he were standing somewhere nearby.

  She listened hard. But all she heard was the wind whistling across the plains.

  Sighing, she stared up at the blue, cloudless sky and watched as a bird made lazy loops above her. It almost seemed that with every loop, the bird came closer to the earth. No, it was coming closer, she realized. She could see its sleek, gray body clearly now. With a few more circles, she could make out its long, pointed feathers. And then she could even see its small face and beak.

  A hawk, Maisie thought.

  As soon as she thought that, she felt her pulse quicken. Was this it? Her spirit guide?

  The bird slowed.

  Maisie could actually hear its wings slicing through the air.

  Suddenly, the bird was close enough for her to touch it.

  Maisie held her breath.

  The bird glided just above her, its wings brushing her face.

  It seemed to hover there for a long minute before it reversed, making its lazy loops upward and away until it became just a speck far up in the sky.

  Maisie lay there, straining to see it in the sunlight. Long after she could not find it there any longer, she stayed motionless, the touch of the bird’s wings still on her cheeks.

  Maisie’s elation over her vision quickly evaporated when she finally returned to the village and found the women taking down the tepees.

  “What’s happening?” she asked Felix as soon as she saw him.

  “They’re moving,” he said. “They heard that the soldiers are coming.”

  Maisie and Felix watched as the women removed the buffalo hides and dismantled the poles.

  “There’s Curly,” Felix said, pointing. “He’s been with his father.”

  Curly saw them, too, and walked over to Maisie and Felix, his eyes glazed and distant.

  “Once my father got over being angry at me for not doing the proper rituals, he interpreted my vision,” Curly said, slightly dazed.

  “What was your vision?” Felix asked him.

  Curly shook his head, as if he was trying to clear it. Then he spoke slowly.

  “I saw a horseman floating above me. He had long, light hair that blew in the wind. Hair like mine. The horse was dancing, and the man was not painted at all. I have never seen a warrior like this. He was plain, and he told me that I, too, should not adorn myself. Just a small brown stone behind my ear.”

  At this, Curly lightly touched a spot behind his ear before he continued.

  “I saw a battle. The horseman’s arms were held by his own people, yet neither arrows nor bullets touched him.”

  Again, Curly shook his head, trying to make sense of this vision.

  “He said that I must take a handful of dust from our sacred ground and sprinkle it on my horse before battle, and then I must rub it into my skin and hair.”

  Curly rubbed his arm.

  “And he told me that after battle, I must never keep anything for myself. I must never boast about my victories.”

  “Wow,” Felix said. “All I saw was a big bear.”

  Curly smiled. “A bear is a good spirit guide, Felix. It tells you to be more tolerant and to keep your optimism. It tells you to stop finding fault with people and things around you.”

  “What does your vision mean?” Maisie asked. “What did your father say?”

  “He listened carefully,” Curly said, his voice serious. “He said to listen to my vision. To dress plainly. To put the stone behind my ear. To throw dust on my horse before battle and on myself as well. He said I should be a man of charity. He said that I could only be injured if one of my own people holds my arms. And he said that people would sing about my courage someday. That I would be a brave warrior.”

  Maisie and Felix stood awed by the importance of Curly’s vision and his father’s interpretation.

  “Did you have a vision?” Curly asked Maisie.

  “A gray hawk with pointed wings came to me,” Maisie said, touching the place on her cheek where she’d felt its wings.

  Curly laughed. “Hawks are red with rounded wings. You saw a falcon.”

  “What does a falcon mean?” Maisie asked him.

  “Your life path is individuality,” Curly said. “You must learn patience with those who don’t understand that.”

  “Really?” Maisie said, as a feeling of peace came over her.

  Felix was thinking hard. Listening to Curly describe his vision and his father’s interpretation of it, something had struck him hard. Curly was told not to be boastful about his accomplishments, to let others sing about his victories. This lesson seemed like one that Felix needed to learn, too. Hadn’t he betrayed Maisie because he thought he was better than her in some ways?

  Emotion tore through him, and he grabbed his sister hard and held her in a tight hug.

  Curly looked at them knowingly.

  “The vision quest teaches us many things,” he said.

  He turned to leave, but then returned as if he had forgotten something.

  “The horseman,” Curly said, “he instructed me to wear a single red-tailed hawk feather instead of a warbonnet. A warrior without a warbonnet,” he added.

  Maisie and Felix looked at each other.

  “I think it’s time,” Felix said softly.

  But Maisie was now searching the empty space where the tepees had been. Yellow Feather and the women had finished taking them down, and there was nothing left where she a
nd Felix had slept.

  “Maisie,” Felix said. “The feather.”

  Maisie looked back at Felix, then at Curly, before she broke into a run. Somehow she had to find whoever took down that tepee and the small bag that had been hanging on the post. The bag where she’d hidden the red-tailed hawk feather.

  CHAPTER 9

  Brave Warrior

  Maisie stared in the empty space where the tepee had stood. How would she ever track down that bag? Without it, there was no way back home. Strange, Maisie thought, just a few days ago Newport, Rhode Island, was the last place she wanted to be. But something about her vision quest and the falcon made her feel more comfortable in her own skin. Her life path, Curly had said, was individuality. Perhaps if she stopped caring about Bitsy Beal and Avery Mason and the rest of them, she might be able to follow her life path, whatever that meant.

  But if she didn’t find that bag, she wouldn’t get the opportunity to find out.

  She didn’t realize that Curly had followed her. He was standing beside her now, looking confused and displeased.

  “There was a bag,” Maisie began. “Hanging on one of the poles in the tepee.”

  Curly looked even more displeased.

  “The medicine bundle?” he demanded.

  “I…I don’t think so,” Maisie said. “It didn’t have medicine in it.”

  “You looked inside?” Curly said angrily.

  “I wanted a safe place to put something,” Maisie tried explaining. But Curly was not listening.

  He folded his arms across his chest and glared at her.

  “That was my father’s medicine bundle,” he said. “No one except the medicine man and my father knows what is inside it. Now its power is destroyed. Useless.”

  “I’m sorry,” Maisie said.

  Curly glared at her.

  “The only reason you were allowed to stay is because the Lakota share their food, their tepees. My father insisted, even though I told him I do not trust the white settlers. Even young ones like you.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Maisie said again, close to tears. “Where is the medicine bundle?”

  “My father has it with him. He will need it as we move past the settlers.”