Stalking Wolf sat up but did not follow right away. He could not forget the way Kionee’s eyes had softened and glowed, the way his fingers had looked while stroking Maja, and the tone of his voice as the hunter spoke Hanuevan words to the animal. As for Maja, the silver male wolf almost seemed jealous of Kionee’s friendship with him. It was as if the wolf saw him as a rival. What strange thoughts and images, he mused, were these which filled his head! How could the “son of Strong Rock” give him such strong physical and emotional stirrings? Was an evil spirit playing tricks on him and trying to defeat the sacred visions? Stalking Wolf knew he must clear his thoughts of foolish ramblings, as something mysterious was afoot.
“E-hootseehe. E-neamookoho,” he said as he joined the hunter.
Kionee glanced at the darkening sky, northward of their position. She saw the lightning he mentioned and agreed it was going to rain soon. Thunder rumbled. “We must hurry,” he commanded. “The sky is angry; the storm comes fast.”
The following day, Kionee and Stalking Wolf rode out as usual to hunt and scout, or so everyone thought. Their true purpose was to locate the perfect site and to make plans to carry out Kionee’s daring and cunning idea to frighten off the Bird Warriors until the Hanueva could break camp and depart.
They reached the area where they had hidden from their enemies the day before and rode in the direction the band had taken. The storm had washed away all tracks and another siege of bad weather was approaching, so they hurried to find the Crow’s temporary camp. Dark clouds concealed the sun. A brisk wind swayed trees and plants as it gusted through them. Muggy and oppressive air caused the riders to sweat. Perspiration glistened on their faces and wet their bodies beneath their buckskin garments. Soon a cooling and refreshing rain would come, and they must finish their task with haste as it was dangerous to travel when bolts of lightning shot like sharp and fiery arrows to the earth.
Kionee pointed ahead. “Smoke. A cook fire. We will hide the horses and sneak to their camp to see if more Crow join them. We must learn how many warriors we will battle soon and what weapons they carry.”
They guided their animals into a dense timberline and dismounted.
“I will go alone, Kionee; it is safer for one to get close than for two. Be ready to ride if they see me and I return in a run.”
Kionee decided it was best not to argue with Stalking Wolf, as his prowess and experience in such matters were greater than her own. The only thing that was important was success. She nodded agreement.
Kionee watched the Cheyenne head toward his target, using the landscape to conceal his advance. Her breathing was shallow and swift and her heart beat heavy in dread of his peril. A nervous sweat dampened her garments and body, but it would not damage her mask if she refrained from wiping the moisture from her face. Her legs seemed weak and shaky; they begged her to sit, but she did not, as she needed to keep watch. She struggled to calm her fears and not lose sight of him. Yet, soon he vanished over a hill. She examined the span between her and the verdant rise which hid the enemy camp from her line of vision. No one slipped from behind a bush or tree to trail Stalking Wolf, and she sighed in relief. She strained to catch any sound of exposure. She reasoned that if she could not detect his presence, neither could the Crow.
Time passed and he did not reappear. The sky darkened. Thunder boomed in the distance, its peals louder and nearer with each series. The wind’s force increased; it whipped limbs, bushes, grass, and wildflowers about as if determined to tear them from their trunks and roots. Displays of brilliant and multibranched lightning came at closer intervals and lingered for longer periods. As she waited in alert and tension, she feared the worst and prepared herself to come to his aid if necessary. When she heard excited yells coming from the Crow, she put her plan into action.
“You must help me save Stalking Wolf,” she told his snowy stallion. “You must let me ride you and obey my commands.”
As if the horse understood, he allowed her to touch him.
In a rush, she removed all Cheyenne items and covered all symbols with white paint to make the animal look ghostly. She put aside the feathers and tokens taken from his mane, tail, and forelock. She suspended a large sunburst medallion around the horse’s neck, then added another lengthy thong which held the dewclaws of deer and jackrabbits’ feet. After yanking on white garments, she tossed a coyote’s skin over White Cloud’s back and tied another around her body. She put on a special mask and leapt upon the stallion’s back with her ceremonial shield clutched in her hand.
“Come, Maja, we ride as spirit warriors. Help us with this deed, Atah. Strike fear into their black hearts. Force them back to their land.”
White Cloud let Kionee walk him toward the camp, his hooves almost soundless on the thick spring blanket covering the ground. He seemed to sense his beloved master was in danger and the person on his back could save him. Stalking Wolf had taught him stealth and caution, and he used the lessons well.
It was the same with Maja; the silver creature’s paws treaded as silently as a mist drifting across a meadow. His taut, muscular body was ready and eager for action. His golden gaze and erect ears were alert in his great desire to protect Kionee.
Kionee halted and posed them on a grassy knoll that overlooked the campsite. She saw the Crow mounting their horses with weapons ready for use. Stalking Wolf was bound to a tree, but seemed unharmed. The Crow were probably planning to scout for Stalking Wolfs horse and for any companions concealed nearby.
Kionee lifted her shield and shook it as she shouted in an angry tone in their language, “Apsaalooke, dee!” Grabbing their attention and ordering the Crow to leave the area, she told the startled men that Isaahkawuattee—Old Man Coyote—wanted the Isaauushpuushe daache, the Cheyenne captive. She warned if they did not leave she would call down the baleilaaxxawiia—evil spirits—to dappee—kill—them.
Kionee heard panicked shrieks of “Tset-scu-tsi-cikyata” and “chia cheete, baaaxualeete akbilikkuxshe. Apasaxxiahche, biilapaache!” Her mind translated their words: “The Wolf Mask Wearer,” “silver wolf, his spirit helper,” and “Gallop to safety, friends!”
One-Eye stared at the ghostly sight which had appeared as if by magic before an awesome backdrop of nature’s beauty. The Crow leader studied the rider who wore white garments and a coyote skin, carried a wolf shield, and sat astride a cloud-colored stallion which displayed sacred symbols of his god’s helpers: coyote, deer, wolf, and jackrabbit. His gaze moved to the silver beast and noticed its flinty-eyed glare and threatening posture. He knew of no warrior who had tamed a wild creature and rode with one as a companion. “Why does Old Man Coyote want the weakling Cheyenne?” he asked.
“He lives under the sign of the wolf,” Kionee replied, “Isaahkawuattee must take back that magic before he is slain.”
“I will slay him for Old Man Coyote,” One-Eye offered.
“No, if you slay him, the magic will flow into your body. Hawate-Ishte does not need it; he is a great warrior by his own skills. Iichihkbaahile stayed your hand; that is why the Cheyenne still lives until He could send me to claim him. Do you refuse Him this gift? If you do so, the Creator will turn His face from you on the battle and hunting grounds. If you do not obey, He will not guide you and protect you. Without the prowess of Hawate-Ishte to help them, your people will suffer. He will order the Sun to send down fiery rays to burn up the medicine tobacco plants. He will call the storm to send thunderbirds to attack. He will order the wolf spirit to take summer from your land; grass will not grow and buffalo will not come. This is not the time to raid and kill enemies. Return to your people and prepare for the great buffalo hunt and for battling many Lakotas. If you do so, the Creator will reward you with many coups. Go fast before the storm.”
“Why do you not take the Cheyenne with you and leave us here?”
“The sacred ritual must be done where he was captured; it is not for the eyes of men to witness. If you do so, it will steal your sight. Leave this place where the s
pirits gather to take his power and magic.”
One-Eye stared at the potent image. Strong winds danced through the horse’s snowy mane and tail; it swayed fringes on the eerie rider’s shirt and leggings. Constant lightning streaked behind the warrior like vipers snaking and hissing across the sky; it roared like a grizzly and flamed like a magical fire when bolts struck the earth. Thunder pealed around them. A downpour was imminent. Yet, if Stalking Wolf truly possessed such coveted “power and magic,” One-Eye craved them for himself. His terrified companions urged him to leave:
“They are spirits, Hawate-Ishte. He has big medicine with him. He will slay us or call the thunderbirds to attack if we challenge him.”
“The Sun hides his face from us. See, the white wolf—helper of the Sun—rides with him for protection. The Sun will punish us as he did the fool-dog who dishonored the Sun’s mate and caused her death. We must go.”
“They bear the marks of Old Man Coyote. The Creator’s four helpers will take summer back to the Old Woman if we disobey. Without summer grass and the buffalo hunt, all Apsaalooke will die. He speaks our tongue.”
One-Eye did not know if the ghost rider posed a true threat but decided not to challenge this day. “We ride,” he said. “Let Tset-acu-tsi-cikyata have the captive. We will take others from the Hanueva in two suns.”
The intimidated band gathered its possessions in a hurry.
As he mounted, One-Eye told the bound man, “If Tset-acu-tsi-cikyata does not take your life, Stalking Wolf, I will do so on another sun for you are weak.” To make certain his enemy understood, One-Eye repeated his message in signs all Plains bands used for intertribal communication.
The taunt stung the Cheyenne’s pride, and he glared at the man with one eye covered by a buckskin circle held in place by tied thongs. Embarrassed and angered by his capture, he yanked against his bindings. Unable to reply in sign language or in Crow, he scoffed in his tongue, “I am willing and ready to battle you.”
One-Eye chuckled as if he grasped foolish words. He stared at the awesome sight on the knoll for a moment, then departed.
As the Crow party galloped away, Stalking Wolf stared at Kionee, White Cloud, and Maja who remained poised dramatically against a dark gray sky on a vivid green hillock. The majestic sight they created awed him. If he did not know the identity of the rider, he also would be deceived. He could hardly believe the hunter’s daring challenge against such odds and wondered why Kionee had taken such a great risk to rescue him. He was also amazed that White Cloud had allowed anyone to touch and ride him. He did not know why Kionee had brought along such a disguise and why the hunter had not told him. Perhaps a vision had warned the Hanueva to do so. The mysterious tiva had greater medicine and magic than he had guessed. It was clear why the Crow feared the tivas and wanted to defeat them to steal their powers.
After the Crow were gone and Kionee joined him and cut his bonds, the Cheyenne said, “You saved the life of Stalking Wolf. Your trick was good and brave. What words did you say to frighten them?”
Kionee removed the wolf mask so she could speak and breathe easier in the heat. “When Bird Warriors came to our land, long before the seasons of my grandfather’s father, their shaman told my people their ways and beliefs. Hanueva were given their language and traded with them, for they saw us as no threat or coup. My tribe taught them many things about our land and its game and showed them many mysterious and sacred places. Though we did not live and believe as they did, they thought the Creator honored us by placing so many wonders near us and He protected us. When the old Apsaalooke leaders joined their Great Spirit and other Crow bands came, friendship left our circle. The new chiefs and warriors saw us as weak and foolish—for my people loved peace and we did not raid, kill, and take captives. Hanueva were forced to defend our lives and camp when bold ones chose to raid us. If not for their past shaman’s vision, they would have tried to slay or capture all Hanueva long ago.”
Kionee checked the storm’s steady approach, then continued. “Crow have many names for the Creator: Old Man, Old Man Coyote, and the Sun. They pray, dance, and offer gifts to the Sun, as do other tribes. It is said the Sun claimed a Crow mate, but a daring Bird Warrior forced her to his mat to steal her magic. In dishonor, she took her life. The Sun was angry and made all Crow suffer. It was the Sun’s companion, the white wolf, who evoked mercy and forgiveness for them. They also believe that long ago a powerful Old Woman possessed summer. They say the Creator sent a male wolf, deer, coyote, and jackrabbit to trick Old Woman and steal summer for them. As long as they have summer to grow grass for buffalo and other game and to grow sacred tobacco seeds, they will have power, life, and victory. They feared to challenge, harm, or disobey me, for I carried and bore symbols of their Creator and spirits. They also pray to Thunderbeings and honor the Spirit Of Rain, so my coming near a storm frightened them. I was taught such things by the elders and our Tiva-Chu and used them to fool our enemies. It will be the same with our next trap.”
Kionee related the talk between her and One-Eye. “They fear what they do not understand; they seek to escape evil spirits. They fear to offend Old Man Coyote or his helpers. If One-Eye had been alone, he would have challenged me; his hunger for coups and big medicine are large. He is hardest to trick. They will return to attack in two suns. We must be ready to defeat them again with fears of their own beliefs and spirits.”
After hearing that explanation, Stalking Wolf was convinced the hunter’s other plan would work. “You placed your life and Maja’s in danger for me. I will not forget your generosity. I will repay it. I was reckless and was captured. A Crow guard hid in a tree and jumped on me as I sneaked close.”
“Atah, the one you call Maheoo, dulled your, wits to allow it; we needed to test our coming trick. We learned they can be fooled; we learned their strengths and weaknesses. Do not feel shame for being Atah’s scout. We would not know their secrets and plans if you had not fallen into their hands. If it was not Atah’s purpose, you would be dead. Hawate-Ishte would have killed Stalking Wolf when he was brought to camp.”
The warrior did not know if that conclusion was true, but he was grateful to Kionee for helping him to save face over his capture. He smiled and thanked the hunter for such kindness. He stroked and praised White Cloud and Maja for their parts in the cunning victory. White Cloud nuzzled his master’s hand, but Maja edged closer to Kionee.
They knew there was no need to conceal their escape tracks, as the impending deluge would do that task for them. Riding doubleback, they headed to where Tuka and their possessions awaited them.
The short journey suited Kionee, as her body was in constant contact with Stalking Wolfs. She wished it would be a longer trip but knew she should be relieved it was not. The insides of her legging-clad legs pressed against the outer edges of his. Her hands rested on his hipbones, as she dared not encircle his narrow and firm waist and put her chest against his broad back. His wind-whipped golden-brown hair tickled over her painted face and neck. She inhaled his manly odor. She gazed at his powerful shoulders and muscular arms in blissful torment. If only she could have him, she would be the happiest person alive. Yet, she knew it was reckless to wish for what could never be.
When Stalking Wolf halted the stallion, Kionee slid off its back. To avoid making eye contact, she busied herself with departure preparations.
Stalking Wolf was amused when Kionee slipped behind thick bushes to change garments. He grinned, then packed their things and loaded them.
“Why did you bring those Crow medicine signs with you?” he asked after the hunter returned.
“A dream warned me to be ready for danger.”
“It was a good and powerful vision, Kionee. Why did you not tell me?”
She glanced at him and admitted, “I did not want you to think me foolish if nothing happened.”
“I would never do so. We are friends, companions. I trust you.”
“As I trust you, Stalking Wolf. If I had told you, my need for surprise
might have been lost if your face revealed signs of knowing to them.”
He smiled and nodded agreement with the clever precaution. “You are wise and cunning, Kionee. Your prowess is great.”
“That is why we work well together; we match in many ways.”
“That is true. We must hurry; the storm moves swiftly toward us.”
They rode away side by side to complete the remainder of their task before racing the bad weather to camp, arriving only minutes before the downpour and nature’s fury unleashed itself over the land.
Near the bank of the river from the mountain of the Big Horn animals, Kionee waited in anticipation to spring their trap. She prayed they had selected the crossing which the Crow would take while en route to raid her camp. She and Stalking Wolf had agreed that this site appeared to be the best for safe and easy fording. They were fortunate that there were many trees, bushes, and rocks to hide behind. Lookouts were positioned for a long distance to watch for the Bird Warriors’ approach; each would fire an arrow to the next in line until the message reached them.
Just yesterday the Hanueva chief and council had agreed to this daring and dangerous trick, and most of Kionee’s people had helped prepare for it. She and Stalking Wolf had revealed the previous day’s episode to the astounded council. She had lied to her people for the first time: she had told them Stalking Wolf allowed himself to be captured so they could test their ability to fool the enemy. The council had believed her, and had praised their courage and prowess. She had noticed envy in the gazes of Night Walker and Little Weasel at being denied participation in such a glorious and exciting event. When she explained her idea for this day’s ruse, they had quickly agreed with her clever plan.
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