Raven grinned, swung the baby up in his strong arms and followed her. “We will raise him,” he said, “and someday, we will have our own son and name him for my brother.”
Bear. She swallowed hard and didn’t look at Raven as she walked. Name him for my brother. Yes, it was right that they remember the one who had died so that they might escape. She would become Raven’s woman and he need never know that each time he took her in his arms, she would try not to close her eyes and think of Bear.
Dawn, August 9. Willow came awake and yawned just before the gray of early light turned into the pink of sunrise. The dew still glittered like diamonds across the prairie grass of this camp the Nez Perce called Its-koom-tse-le-lick Pa, Place of the Ground Squirrels, where the Trail and Ruby Creeks joined.
She sat up and smiled for the first time in a long time. Even though they had lost most of their lodges and food was short, the past several days had been quiet, so much so, that last night, the tribe had celebrated late, dancing and singing. As a result, almost everyone was still asleep. Maybe, Willow thought, just maybe, the whites might let the tribe live in peace now that the Nez Perce had left the disputed Idaho country for Montana.
Perhaps she could stir around without disturbing anyone. Certainly the whole tribe needed rest and food, the chance to take care of its sick and wounded without having to move the camp for a few days. A bird sang to welcome the new day. She stood up and stretched, her gaze following an elderly man walking across the creek and into the woods beyond to check on the horse herd that grazed past the trees.
And then hell erupted. Shots rang out and the old man fell. Before she could move or even wonder, noise and shouts rolled across the quiet landscape. She stood frozen in horrified realization as the thunder built and she heard before she saw the charging cavalry like a tidal wave of blue coming through the trees and across the creek.
“Soldiers!” she screamed and dashed through the camp. “Hurry, everyone! Soldiers coming!”
Already the crack of rifle fire and the yells of charging men, the thunder of galloping horses, broke the stillness. Now people screamed, babies cried, men shouted as the people came awake, not certain what was happening, what to do. They jumped to their feet, milling in confusion. She paused; someone was shouting her name.
“Willow, this way!” Raven grabbed her and threw her up on a horse as he reached for his rifle. “Lead the women out of here!”
The horse reared, frightened by the noise and shrieks. Women and children were running in circles as the rifles cracked, not sure what was happening, which way to flee. Little Atsi ran toward her, dragging the toddler. Her plump face was etched in terror, the small boy screamed with fright.
“Here,” Willow shouted, “take my horse!” She slid off, held onto the bridle while Atsi swung up barebacked. Willow hugged little Cub to her just a moment. “Hush,” she whispered, “you’ll be all right.” She handed him up to the young girl, slapped the horse on the rump, and ran it out of the camp. Around her, other women were catching horses, attempting to flee as Raven rallied the men into a defense line.
Willow ran to Raven’s side and handed him another rifle. He paused, glanced over at her. “I sent you out!”
“I know, but I’m needed here!” She took the rifle from his hands and reloaded it as they crouched behind a log. “I gave Atsi my horse.”
He grinned in admiration and took the gun. “You are truly a Nez Perce woman after all.”
“Did you ever doubt it?” She looked toward the cavalry charging into the camp now.
“Bear would have been proud of you,” Raven said as he aimed and fired, taking a Bannock scout from his galloping paint horse.
“Of his little brother, too,” Willow said.
He looked at her, blinked and swallowed hard, then returned to firing at the invaders.
Around them, acrid gun smoke swirled. Her ears rang with shouts and screams and gunfire. The Nez Perce warriors were rallying under the able leadership of Looking Glass and Ollokot, backed up by brave warriors like Raven who were prepared to sell their lives dearly. Riderless Appaloosa horses galloped past, rolling their white eyes in terror. People ran and screamed. Over the roar, blue-clad officers shouted orders.
It was like some kind of nightmare, Willow thought as she crouched behind the log with Raven, coolly reloading for him as he aimed and fired. The cavalry charged through the creek, water flying, met a line of deadly gunfire from the Nez Perce marksmen, faltered and retreated, leaving dead and wounded soldiers moaning and jerking in the water. Around her, people crumpled, fell and died. Now besides the scent of gunpowder, the smell of blood hung heavy in the coming dawn that was almost as pink as the water that swirled in eddies around the dying men who lay in the creek.
She glanced over at Raven. There was no sign of fear in his handsome face, only grim determination. If he were going to be killed, he was facing it as the bravest of warriors would. Bear’s faith in him had finally been justified, she thought with quiet pride. Raven wasn’t retreating, his set face told her he would die in this spot to protect the retreat of the women and children. Somehow in the past few weeks, the boy had grown into a man; no, more than a man; a respected Nez Perce warrior.
She voiced her thoughts aloud over the sporadic gunfire that echoed though the hills as she put her hand on his arm. “If we don’t live to see nightfall, I want you to know how proud I am of you.”
He glanced sideways at her as he reloaded, then grinned to cover the awkward moment, “Hey, I’m not ready to sing a warrior’s song yet; I have something worth fighting for.”
She knew from the way he looked at her how much he loved her. Her heart swelled and she blinked hard. He wasn’t Bear, but maybe they could make some kind of life together if they survived this long ordeal.
Many Indians had been shot down or clubbed as they came awake in the first surprise attack and there was hand-to-hand fighting, but the determined warriors had stalled the advance. Willow saw an officer fall and now the leaderless soldiers gravitated toward the center of the camp as the warriors came at them from both sides. The soldiers had managed to set fire to the few tipis that the tribe still possessed. Now as the sun rose, the determined braves took the offensive and began picking off the confused and leaderless men. The Nez Perce who had galloped away in a panic returned to attack the soldiers dug in among the burning tipis.
Willow saw several officers fall and then the older man wearing colonel’s insignia cried out; grabbed his thighs as a shot hit him. He signaled his bugler to sound retreat and the disorganized soldiers fled. They were retreating in a disorganized panic, dragging their wounded with them, attempting to set up a defense line behind logs and rocks across the creek. The warriors shouted in triumph and pressed the attack, on the offensive now as they attacked the soldiers’ hastily thrown-up defense.
As Raven ran across the creek to continue the attack, Willow paused and looked around at the burning Indian camp. Tipis and supplies blazed, riderless horses galloped through, dogs barked. The slain lay everywhere and the wounded were crying for water. Women screamed as they walked among the dead, then fell to their knees in grief as they found a loved one among the burning wreckage.
Willow felt numb as she hurried to help. Women, children, and old people lay slain in the wrecked camp, but also important warriors, including Wahchumyus, Wahlitits, and the important Paloose leader, Hahtalekin. When Sarpsis Il-pihlp heard that his cousin and close friend, Wahlitit, had been killed, Sarpsis fulfilled his vow that the two would die on the same day by riding recklessly back into the battle and so was killed, too.
Many others were wounded, including the wives of Joseph and Ollokot. There was no time to grieve, Willow realized. While the warriors kept the soldiers pinned down, Joseph instructed the people in hastily digging shallow graves for the dead, and then hurried his people in a retreat to the south. White Bird helped him lead the people out. Important war leaders like Ollokot and Looking Glass stayed behind to fight.
She led her horse with the old woman and the two children on it. The old woman protested that she should be left behind, that she would slow them and because she was old, her life was not worth much. However, Willow wouldn’t hear of it. These three were a family for her and she would not leave them. Where they were going or what would happen to the Nez Perce now, there was no way to know. One thing she did know was that it had been foolish to hope the army would let them go in peace. The soldiers were going to track the Nez Perce relentlessly and either kill them or return them all to the reservation.
Yet she was a Nez Perce woman and she could deal with adversity, just as her people were doing. Proudly, Willow squared her shoulders and led her horse to follow the weeping survivors. Behind her, Raven might be dying at this very moment. She realized then that she did not want him to die; he was special to her. Oh, not the feelings she had had for Bear, but the younger brother, too, was brave and good and loved her enough to give his life for her.
Behind her, shots echoed in the morning heat. She wanted to return and help him, but she had the responsibility of the old grandmother and the two children. Torn between two emotions, she kept her horse in the line as they rode toward the south. Willow wondered as the Indians fled, just how long the warriors could hold the soldiers at bay back there at the Big Hole and whether Raven was even now dead on the battlefield?
Twenty-two
For the rest of the day as the Nez Perce fled south, Willow could only wonder and worry about Raven. In the distance, the gunfire and the cannon still echoed through the mountains and could be heard over the soft moaning of the wounded on their travoises. She did everything she could to help, but moving the injured was torture for them and some died along the way. The exhausted and a few of the old ones gave up and sat down by the trail, determined not to slow the people.
When Willow’s weary horse faltered, the old grandmother dismounted and sat down in the grass. “I am old and no loss to the tribe,” she said. “Save the children and yourself.”
The children cried and Willow begged, but the old woman was adamant. There was nothing to do but press forward, leading her horse and leaving the old woman behind. The leaders were afraid to pause, not certain how long the warriors could keep the soldiers pinned down, nor knowing whether more soldiers were on their way.
The sun beat on her as Willow walked and led the horse with the two children on its back. She was tired and thirsty, but the wounded were the ones suffering. Yet, they moaned softly and died silently, knowing there was no help for them. Ollokot’s wife, the beautiful Aikits Palojami, Fair Land, had been badly wounded at the Big Hole and her sister-in-law, Joseph’s wife, had taken on the task of nursing Fair Land’s young baby along with her own.
Willow was past thinking. She put one foot ahead of the other automatically, doing what she must and sharing her canteen with the children. She had lost Bear and now she had lost Raven, too; he had stayed behind with the other brave warriors to keep the soldiers from pursuing them.
Finally, it was sundown. With a grateful sigh, Willow sat down in the dirt as the people finally camped. She was grateful for the cool darkness. Later that night, some of the warriors rode in from the Big Hole and brought word that Ollokot, Raven, and a handful of others were still keeping the soldiers pinned down. However, during that time, they had lost two well-known men, Five Wounds and Sarpsis Il-pihlp. Yet the Nez Perce had managed to capture the howitzer and dismantle it, plus some guns and ammunition.
Here in the darkness, Willow looked after her two little charges the best she could and worried about Raven and the old grandmother. Despite everything she could do to help, more of the wounded died. The chiefs had called a council to assess their losses and no family had been spared. Some sixty or maybe as many as ninety of their people had been killed, including women and children, as well as twelve of the bravest warriors. The people’s hearts were bitter against Looking Glass for having brought them to Montana. They selected a new guide, a half-breed Nez Perce named Lean Elk who said he knew the trail to their friends of the Crow tribe, in whose camp the Nez Perce might find refuge. After much discussion, it was decided that with daylight, the people would try to reach their Crow allies.
There was little rest for Willow that night. What food she had, she gave to the children. When a few of the warriors rode in later, she asked them about the old grandmother and they said, yes, she was still by the trail, but prepared to die when the army and its Bannock scouts caught up with her. Ollokot, Raven, and a couple of others were determined to hold back the soldiers a while longer.
A breeze came up and whispered through the trees above her like a ghostly warrior’s singing. This was the way Raven would have wanted it, she thought, finally being respected like his brother, courageously covering the retreat. Now she had lost them both.
Before the sun came up, the people were preparing to move on, burying those badly wounded who had died during the night. The beautiful Fair Land was among the dead.
Willow begged that someone should ride back to the Big Hole to see if any of the warriors still lived, but Joseph reminded her that he had left a younger brother there, too, and even for Ollokot, he dare not stop the march or take the chance of ambush in sending men back along the trail. She knew he was right, but it was difficult to gather the children, load her travois, knowing brave men had bought this precious time with their lives.
However, just before the tribe shoved out, there was a shout and Ollokot and his warriors rode in, having slipped away from the Big Hole in the darkness. Raven! Willow had eyes only for him as he galloped in and dismounted. On the back of his horse rode the old grandmother.
Without even realizing she did so, Willow ran into his arms. “I thought I had lost you, too.”
“Me? Never!” He grinned as he swung her up in his strong arms. “I have too much to live for! And look who I found along the way!”
“Nakaz! Nakaz!” The children ran to the old grandmother with glad cries.
“Oh, Raven, thank you for bringing her.” Willow hugged him.
“She didn’t want to come. I had to put her on my horse by force, but she’s rested; I think she can keep up now. I won’t lie to you, Willow,” he said somberly, “we have trouble ahead of us. The soldiers were hard hit, but army reinforcements were coming when we rode away. Some of our men were captured, among them, my Palouse friend, Five Stars.”
“Oh, Raven, I’m so sorry. We’ve had deaths here, too.” Quickly, she told him the details. She was too happy to see him and the old woman again to worry about anything else. “Maybe we can still elude them; the chiefs are talking of riding to their friends, the Crows.”
He nodded, looking weary but confident. “I must report in. With all these wounded and the very old and babies, it will be hard for us to move fast.”
She smiled and watched him stride away, feeling secure now that he had returned, thinking how proud her dear Bear would have been that his confidence in his younger brother had finally proved right. Yes, whatever lay ahead of them, the Nez Perce were strong enough to deal with.
Bear reined in his horse in Rocky Canyon and looked around. A saddled horse grazed peacefully near the raging river. He frowned as he saw the spur marks on the bay gelding. What brute would treat a horse like that? Deek; of course that was Deek’s horse. Now where was the scout? There was no sign of him. As he looked around, sunlight reflected under a bush. Heart pounding, Bear knelt. Yes, it was part of the treasure. Evid
ently, Deek had been bringing it out, piling it here. What had happened? Bear swam his big stallion across the river and went to check the cave. Yes, some of the gold was still there, but there was no sign of Deek Tanner.
Bear rode back to the river and dismounted. In the shallows, something glittered. Curiously, Bear waded out, picked it up; a gold nugget. He looked again at the marks on the bay gelding, noted the saddlebags were missing. A picture began to emerge. Bear imagined the greedy white man attempting to get the gold across the river, the weight of it pulling him under. A white man would die for treasure and it looked like Deek had. Bear breathed a sigh of relief as he began to gather up the gold. Just in case Deek had told anyone about the hoard, Bear had to move it. It took him most of the day to take it to a new location and hide it. Now it was safe again until the Nez Perce people needed it.
At last, Bear grabbed the bridle of the bay horse and led it behind him as he rode away from the canyon. He could use an extra horse on this long ride.
He looked off toward the Bitterroot Mountains. How many days’ ride were his people ahead of him? There was no way to know; Bear only knew that he must track them, rejoin them, no matter how many soldiers and scouts he had to avoid on the long journey. Tamtaiza uatiskzpg, tomorrow will tell, Bear thought. It was going to be worth it to be reunited with his brother; to feel his beloved Willow in his arms again!
Billy Warton cursed loud and long when he found the murdered guard and the dead girl. “Damn that Injun wench!” He kicked at Rainbow’s bloody body. He had no doubt that somehow, she had to be involved in freeing Bear.
What to do now? No doubt the big Nez Perce was on his way back to his people at this very minute. Billy headed out of the jail. Where Deek Tanner had gone, he had no idea, but one thing he did know; if Billy were ever going to find the secret of that hidden treasure, he had to find Bear.
Song Of The Warrior Page 29