Tender Ecstasy

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Tender Ecstasy Page 20

by Janelle Taylor


  “May you both live long and happy lives. But I hear trouble brewing in the winds to the west, Wanmdi Hota. Many whites have come seeking the shiny rocks in our streams and hills. The white-eyes kill for this rock which reflects the light of Wi. They camp in many places. They slaughter the animals in the forests and upon the plains. Others have joined them to steal the skins of Wakantanka’s creatures. The Bluecoats protect them in exchange for furs and shiny rocks. Many more Bluecoats come every day. Soon, they will overrun our lands. We must stop them!” Flaming Bow proclaimed forcefully.

  Bright Arrow and Gray Eagle listened closely and carefully to the new chief’s words. Gray Eagle’s heart skipped a beat at the old chief’s words. “I have told Flaming Bow and my young warriors of how Gray Eagle called the tribes together long ago to battle many white-eyes and Bluecoats. Many tales of your daring and cunning that great day still rest in my aging heart. You led the tribes to conquer all whites for many winters. Now, they have come again. They grow stronger with each new moon. Once more you must call the tribes together to battle them. As before, we must wipe them out to save our lands and peoples.”

  Flaming Bow glanced at Shalee and smiled. He innocently remarked upon the stirring tales which Silver Star had revealed to him. “This time, the daughter of Black Cloud is here and safe. My heart and hands grew eager with excitement and pride when I heard of how Gray Eagle bluffed the Bluecoats for her release. I must discover what great magic and wisdom you used upon your enemies at the old fort, where another now stands upon the face of our lands.”

  Bright Arrow stared at his father. What was Flaming Bow’s meaning? He had never been told of this staggering feat of daring and victory. “My father led a raid upon the old fort? How so? When?” Bright Arrow asked.

  Flaming Bow looked at him in utter surprise. “You have not heard of how Wanmdi Hota called the seven tribes together and destroyed all whites and Bluecoats within our lands! Silver Star told me how the Bluecoats raided the Oglala camp and captured your mother. Wanmdi Hota banded all together, friend and enemy alike. He fearlessly attacked the fort. All were slain or captured.”

  Gray Eagle waited to see how much Flaming Bow would reveal about his past and that portentous event. It would be rude to interrupt the telling of such awesome coups. He silently listened to Flaming Bow’s colorful tales. Thankfully, Shalee and Rebecca had left to draw water and to gather wood for the night. He prayed Shalee would not return and overhear this news. She might react in a revealing manner. He must explain these mysterious circumstances to her before Bright Arrow could question her about it.

  Enjoying himself greatly, Flaming Bow dramatically went on, “Wanmdi Hota made them cower in fear and shame. The daughter of Black Cloud was released by the soldiers. Many thought it strange at that time, for no one knew she was the daughter of Black Cloud who had been stolen from his camp at two winters and raised by the white-eyes. The Great Spirit knew and recalled her feet to the land of her people and to the tepee of her father. Silver Star told me how your father went to the Si-ha Sapa camp and challenged for her hand in joining. No one taunted him for loving a white slave then, for she was in truth Si-ha Sapa. Perhaps it will be the same with your white slave,” he joked, unaware of the tension in both Oglala warriors.

  “You speak strange words, Flaming Bow. Why do you say my mother was once the white slave of my father? How could that be?” he debated.

  Flaming Bow glanced at Gray Eagle, wondering at this curious secret. Gray Eagle frowned in displeasure. He stated, “That was a sad time for Shalee. We chose not to speak of it again.”

  Bright Arrow argued, “But he claims she was your slave! Explain this to me,” he softly demanded, intrigued by this startling news.

  Flaming Bow realized his error. He suggested, “Such matters should be spoken of in private, Bright Arrow. My tongue spoke before thinking or without the knowledge of this secret. Your father speaks true. It was a sad time for Princess Shalee. Do not recall it to her mind and heart. Speak of this later with your father,” he advised, wishing he had not mentioned such a degrading and tormenting time in that lovely creature’s life.

  “You are wise and good, Flaming Bow,” Gray Eagle said. “Later, my son, I will tell you what you wish to know. Do not hurt your mother by speaking of this matter before her. There are vital problems which concern us. Speak of them, Flaming Bow,” he stated, firmly dismissing that perplexing story.

  Bright Arrow politely remained silent and respectful before the others; yet, his mind was not upon the business at hand.

  Did this explain the anguish and sadness which he frequently read within his mother’s eyes? Was it possible? She had been raised as white! She had been captured and enslaved by his own father! He called to mind the events which Shalee had told him earlier. Evidently she had left out many incredible things! No wonder she had so fiercely resisted Rebecca’s enslavement! She knew what such an existence was like! She had actually lived it! There was much to hear and to resolve, and he would do this…

  The warriors proposed scouting parties to study the movements and strength of the soldiers and whites. They decided to meet again in ten days to discuss their newly gathered information and eventual plans. Gray Eagle said he would call together the chiefs of the seven tribes. Another joint venture against the whites might be planned to slow their continual encroachment and wanton destruction. But this time, he would let another warrior lead it. Since Bright Arrow’s mind was ensnared by past and present troubles, perhaps Night Hawk or his son could lead this monumental raid.

  Shalee and Rebecca returned. They served the men wine made from buffalo berries and bread pones spattered with tasty specks of dried fruit and roasted nuts. The hour grew late. The night birds began to sing their melodious songs. Cicadas promptly joined their buoyant tune. The Cheyenne warriors returned to their tepee to sleep. They would leave at dawn.

  “Father,” Bright Arrow called out. “Come. Let us walk and speak of many things,” he remarked as calmly as he could.

  Shalee looked up. Curious eyes met with Gray Eagle’s unreadable ones. He smiled lovingly at her. “Rest, wife. You carry our child. We will return soon. There is much for warriors to say and to decide,” he stated, hoping she would accept this excuse.

  She smiled, fondling his hard chest. “Do not worry about me, husband. What harm could befall me when I live under the wing of a mighty eagle? You bring pride and joy to my life. The Great Spirit guards us all this day.” She took his hand in hers and caressed her cheek with it, then kissed it. The message in her smoldering eyes was crystal clear.

  Bright Arrow watched this tender, romantic exchange. It was obvious his mother loved Gray Eagle deeply. Didn’t that mean Gray Eagle had done nothing wicked to her in the past? She came over to her son. “Did I not tell you that everything would be good again, my son? We are all safe and happy as the Great Spirit wishes.”

  “You love my father very much,” he stated, needing to hear her concurrence.

  “Yes, Bright Arrow. I have since the first moment our eyes met many years ago. I have loved only you as much.” The glow in her eyes confirmed her words.

  “This is good, Mother. Peace and love will live in our tepee forever.”

  The two men left. Shalee wished she could tell Rebecca so many things, but it would still be unwise. Some day, perhaps it would be different. The two women exchanged smiles and sat down to work on winter garments.

  Bright Arrow and Gray Eagle walked along in silence, one planning his questions and the other deliberating his coming answers. The full moon lighted the clearing, enhancing the mood of solitude and graveness. The trees seemed to fuse into one massive shadow, acknowledging their individual presence by occasionally rustling their leaves. Fireflies playfully danced upon the breeze, their iridescent tails flickering like the sun upon a speck of gold. The mournful hoots of an owl touched their alert ears, their keen senses always sharp and clear. A startled racoon darted from the stream’s edge, swaying the bunch grass with
his hasty retreat. They halted, each briefly listening to the soothing sound of the brook as it rushed over a small cascade of rocks.

  A safe distance from camp, Bright Arrow turned to face his father. “There is much I do not know, Father. How did you first see and know my mother?” he came directly to the point. “What do you hide of Rebecca’s past?”

  Gray Eagle sighed heavily, weighing how much he should tell his son. If others spoke of the past to him, many events could be revealed. Perhaps it was best to confess most of it, omitting only one deadly secret. “There was a time long ago when things were not good between your mother and me,” he cautiously began. “I will start with the day we first saw each other and tell you of events which brought anguish, torment, shame, and deception into our lives. Perhaps it is past time you knew of such matters,” he said in a resigned tone. “Perhaps you will then understand my feelings for your Rebecca.”

  Yet, he remained silent and rigid for a lengthy time. Through a break in the dense treeline, he could sight the shadowed mountains in the far distance, outlined against the dusky horizon. Tonight they seemed to jut from Mother Earth as an evil hand, ever rising as a threat of ensnarement.

  Ever since Rebecca’s arrival, an ominous song had drummed incessantly within Gray Eagle’s head. Each day that perilous tune had increased its volume. He had become mesmerized by its powerful strands. He was powerless to control himself or the effects of the past. So many things depended upon how he resolved this dilemma. Where and when would these echoes of the past cease? Twice in his life he had issued a reprieve for Powchutu. Now, words echoed from beyond the grave, calmly singing the Death Chant. But for whom?

  “It troubles you to recall such times?” Bright Arrow ventured.

  “Yes, Bright Arrow; for I did many things to Shalee which were cruel and unjust. Many times I revealed weakness; fear, and dishonor where she was concerned. I did not wish you to learn of such things,” he confessed in a strained tone.

  “I do not understand…,” he stated, doubting his father could ever possess or reveal such traits.

  “Remain silent until I finish. Then you can question what still confuses you. In a time before you were born when Mother Earth was happy and green, a white trapper shot my father. For many moons Running Wolf lay dying in the sacred mountains until the Great Spirit renewed his body. I had lived twenty-five winters. I was much like you: proud, daring, confident. I was alive with hatred for the whites who invaded our lands. I had never known the true love of any woman. In my anger, I recklessly sought out the foe who had shot Running Wolf. But this anger dulled my senses. I was taken prisoner by a small band of whites. They took me to a place where many trees were lashed together to make a wall against us. They mocked me, taunted me, beat me, and tried to kill me.”

  Hostility sparked brightly within his jet eyes at these recollections. “They placed a rope around my neck and led me about as they would a beast. They bound me to a post and lashed me across my chest. But I remained silent and proud. This angered them more, for they could not shame me. There was a young girl with them. She was beautiful and gentle. She was unlike the others. She did not understand this evil treatment and great hatred. She pleaded with her people to cease my torture. She argued with them. When they would not heed her pleas, she pulled a firestick upon them and forced them to stop. She was very angry and showed much courage. I could not believe my eyes and ears. I thought her mad. The others despised her for halting my torture and for speaking out against it. They spoke badly of her and treated her cruelly. Still, I refused to believe her special,” he reluctantly admitted, clearly envisioning that day.

  He inhaled before continuing this disturbing tale. “They locked me in a place made of many logs which hid the sky from my eyes and denied me fresh air. They refused me food and water. They voted for my death. The white girl came to me in the darkness to bring food and water. She put medicine upon my chest. As she helped me, I bit her hand. I was cold and cruel to her. A warrior’s honor does not accept aid from an enemy. Later, White Arrow came and we escaped. Many moons later, I returned and destroyed what they called their fortress. Knowing their tongue, I had heard of a secret place where this white girl would hide in times of danger. I found it and captured her. As with Rebecca, I made her my slave. But my captive rebelled against my hold on her life and power over her body. Many times I was forced to punish her defiance. Once she rashly and bravely tried to escape, dishonoring me for my open trust in her. She was put to the lashing post, as is our custom. I chose to lash her myself in hopes of staying the pain and damage of the whip. It was useless. She nearly died. While she was lost to unconsciousness, the tribes met to speak of war against the Bluecoats and white settlers. I was chosen band leader for this joint raid. Before I could return to my camp, the Bluecoats attacked. They killed, maimed, and burned. They took our white captives away with them into the big, wooden fence.”

  As Gray Eagle paused, Bright Arrow injected, “What happened to your white girl? Did she die?” Was she somehow connected to his Rebecca? he fretted. Yet, obviously his mother did not know Gray Eagle had once taken a white captive into his heart and tepee…

  “Be silent for a time more and you will hear all. Many warriors from all tribes rode to the fort. To humiliate them, I demanded the white girl’s return. I said she would pay for their deeds. I said she would be tortured and slain before their eyes. Cowards as they were, they bound her and sent her back to me. But I did not kill her. I savored their anger and my deceit, as all we warriors did. She returned to my camp and tepee. The fort was destroyed and all slain. But somehow, the one with yellow hair who had attacked my camp escaped. I did not know this for many, many moons.” Echoes of rage returned to ring loudly within his mind.

  “But where is the white girl now?” Bright Arrow anxiously questioned, his interest piqued by this inconceivable story. His father and a white captive?

  “Your patience is small this day, Bright Arrow,” he playfully chided him. “A man cannot talk as swiftly as the river flows.”

  “Why is it so wrong for me to have a white slave when you possessed one?” he reasoned aloud.

  “Hold your tongue and logic. All whites and Bluecoats were purged from our lands and forest. They did not send others here for many winters. They feared the mighty Oglala and his brothers. The girl was at my side for only two moons after that battle. Because she was white, I struggled to retain my honor as she lost hers. To prove she was only a slave to me, I was very cruel and cold to her. Yet, I loved her,” he quietly admitted, astonishing his son.

  “You loved a white-eyes! That cannot be! What of my mother!” he angrily exploded. This was impossible!

  “If you cry out again, I will speak no more! The telling of this story is difficult. Hear all my words, then speak out. Black Cloud and Brave Bear of the Si-ha Sapa came to my camp that next sun. Black Cloud claimed my white slave was his daughter. He spoke of a time when she was two winters old. He said she had been stolen from his camp and raised by the whites. I did not believe him. He put his akito before my eyes. He then revealed a matching akito upon my white captive. It was clear to all present. My white slave was the chief’s kidnapped, half-breed daughter. He claimed her and took her away from me and my tepee.” Gray Eagle waited for this stunning news to settle in.

  Bright Arrow stared at him, absorbing this information. “You are saying my mother was that white slave?”

  “Yes, Bright Arrow. I pleaded with Black Cloud for her hand in joining. He refused. He wished her to join with Brave Bear. He was angered by my cruelties to her. Her fear of me was known to all. I challenged for her and won. We were joined. Later, when she learned of my secret love and my reasons for her past treatment, she forgave me. She had also loved and desired me since that first day at her fortress. All said it Was the will of the Great Spirit for me to find her and to bring her home. All said it was right for us to join. As Shalee, my honor and face were spared. I have them and her, as it should be,” he declared.
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br />   “This is why she resisted Rebecca’s coming and going?” Bright Arrow speculated.

  “Yes. I feared she saw herself in your white slave. I did not wish echoes of our past to haunt her. I did not want her to recall my evil against her when I thought her white. She suffered much shame and anguish in those times.”

  “This is what you argued about when you struck her?”

  “I did not wish you to learn of my evil deeds against her. I reasoned you might use our past to argue for Rebecca to remain,” he said, knowing it did not excuse his behavior.

  “I am now a man, Father. You could speak of this to me. Yet, there is another reason why you hated Rebecca. Tell me why,” he softly insisted.

  Dreading for Bright Arrow to learn such episodes from another, Gray Eagle wisely decided to relate other facts. “At the big fort, there was a half-breed scout named Powchutu. He befriended your mother and loved her. In those times, Shalee did not know I spoke her tongue. The scout had been kind to her. His friendship cost her much, for the whites despised the half-breed scout and deeply resented your mother’s life with me. I spared his life that day. When Black Cloud took her away, Powchutu went to his camp with me to tell her many things. Shalee did not trust me, so he told her of Shalee and her real people. Her fear of me was still great. The moon of our joining, she escaped the Si-ha Sapa camp. I followed her and told her all that lived within my heart. We were to camp alone to make peace and find trust. I left her side for food and water. Powchutu secretly trailed me. Once more my instincts were dulled by relief and joy; he shot me and left me for dead. He desired my Shalee and determined to have her. When he went to her side, he told her I had left her in the desert to die. He said I hated her white blood. He said our joining was a trick to save face and to be rid of her. He took her far away, never saying he had shot me, never saying why I did not come after her. He was her friend. He was as her own brother. She had no reason to mistrust him or to believe my sudden vow of love and acceptance.”

 

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