Chapter Two
Dakota Territory
May 24, 1867
Wild Wind ceased her swimming, for it had failed to relax her taut body or distract her troubled mind. Time had escaped without giving her an answer to her dilemma. She left the still-chilly water to stretch out on the spring grass in a secluded area along the riverbank. She closed her eyes and allowed the afternoon sun to dry and warm her shapely body and fiery hair. Neither she nor Lone Wolf had mentioned their last quarrel of weeks ago. Yet each knew it weighed heavily on the other’s mind, just as each wondered what the other would do. The Sun Dance ritual and buffalo feast were approaching rapidly. If she did not make her own decision soon, the problem would be settled for her.
Wild Wind sat up and crossed her feet. She absently scratched a white scar on her left ankle, which sometimes itched when she was angry or tense. Her arms encircled her legs and she rested her chin on one knee. She had not changed her mind about marriage, especially to RidesLike-Thunder, who was always trying to steal kisses or put his hands where they should not touch. She was tired of being the butt of jokes and teased. How could she marry a man who did not take her seriously, a man who thought mastering her was an amusing game?
Wild Wind was not afraid of animals or wilderness dangers; she could protect herself with weapons and cunning. She would not starve, for she knew how to hunt and cook. But secretly she had witnessed evil deeds of the man-beast enemy, and this caused her to hesitate over leaving her camp and people. She could not live in the forest or mountains alone; and once she rejected her people’s laws and departed, she could never return. Was there no answer other than a forced marriage?
She leapt to her feet and paced back and forth along the riverbank until her bare feet made a path through the supple blades of grass. Needing solitude to make a decision, she had been here since dawn, but she had not achieved success. How she wished these lovely surroundings would share part of their tranquillity with her. How she wished Tunkansila would hear her prayers and respond, for Grandfather was supposed to know all things and to have love and mercy for His people. She was so confused, so torn by what should be a simple and happy decision for an Indian maiden: the choosing of a mate and the settling down to married life. Why was she troubled by a terrible sense of foreboding? Why was she resisting and lingering here when she had only two choices: marry or leave?
Wild Wind inhaled deeply and loudly. Perhaps she was overly tired today, for she had slept little the night before. She sat on her drying blanket and stretched out once more. If any peril approached, Mahpiya would warn her. She glanced at the cherished white stallion whom she had named Cloud. The highly intelligent animal loved and obeyed only her. He was sleek and swift, and he responded instantly to the slightest hint of danger to her. She smiled, then closed her eyes.
Travis Kincade and Nathan Crandall had been waiting over an hour beside the coulee for the young brave to return with Chief Soaring Hawk or with a message from him. Nathan glanced at Travis and asked, “Do you think he’ll come to parley, or send a war party to kill us?”
Travis did not pull his scanning gaze from the harsh landscape before him as he replied, “From what I can recall about Soaring Hawk, he’s a man of great honor and courage. I doubt he would kill us before letting us speak our piece. ‘Course, things and people have changed a great deal since I left. You heard what those soldiers at Fort Wallace had to say. The Army’s got several bands of Oglalas and Hunkpapas givin’ ‘em hell. Captain Clardy at our last stop told me they’ve been sending replacements up this way for months to squash Red Cloud and his followers. He said Red Cloud has been able to keep that Boseman Trail through the Powder River country and most of their forts closed for over a year. You know that doesn’t sit well with the Army. If those Yankees think they can whip the Lakotas like they did the Rebs, they’re in for a rough awakening. One Lakota tribe is hard enough to conquer, but several tribes banded together…No way, Nate.”
Nathan leaned against the same large rock as Travis. “From the way those soldiers were talking and preparing, these Sioux Indians have ‘em plenty nervous. Afore this matter is settled, I’ll wager the Army’s gonna regret teaching the Indians about massacres and broken promises. Hell, it’s only been five months since Crazy Horse wiped out Colonel Fetterman and his entire troop. If you ask me, Travis, that’s one warrior the Cavalry had better watch very closely.”
“You’re right, Nate. Crazy Horse is smart and fearless, and he’s tired of watching the whites try to annihilate the Dakota Nation. He’s a born warrior, the same age as me. Put him with Soaring Hawk, Red Cloud, Gall, and Sitting Bull, and those soldiers are as helpless as newborn pups in a blizzard. The Army’s filling a powder keg on Indian lands, Nate, and we’re smack in the middle of its explosion area.”
Nathan looked tired and worried. “Maybe we shoulda just sneaked into their camp and snatched Rana. I bet these Indians don’t trust any white man. Once he learns why we came here, you think he’ll… ?”
Nathan fell silent as Travis straightened to full alert and reflexively checked the Remington Army .44 pistols that were strapped to his muscled thighs. Travis had selected these particular weapons because they were more accurate and sturdier than the Colt .44. His green eyes narrowed briefly as he forcibly relaxed his taut body, which had stiffened in a careless show of fear or uncertainty. “They’re here, Nate. Stay calm and quiet. Try not to look nervous. Remember, no shouting or arguing.”
Nathan’s hands shook and he wiped his suddenly moist palms on his trouser legs. Nathan glanced around. “I’ll let you handle everything like I promised. Where are they? I don’t see or hear anything.”
“I make out eight of them, two on each side of us. Soaring Hawk should arrive soon. Relax, Nate. If he wanted us killed or captured, we wouldn’t be standing here right now.” Travis’s keen senses had detected the stealthy approach of the Oglala warriors. Alone, he could have taken on eight warriors and probably defeated them, but he had Nathan’s life to protect. He had to handle himself and this matter gingerly and wisely. He knew Indians liked to eye a situation before encountering it. His sharp senses did not perceive any immediate threat of danger; but if he was mistaken, he was prepared to deal with it. His Winchester .44 rifle, which fired seventeen rounds, was lying on the hard dirt before him in case he had to drop to the ground and seize it quickly. His pistols were ready for firing, and he carried two concealed knives, which he could use with lethal skill.
Travis cautioned the older man, “Keep your hands away from your weapons, Nate, unless I give the attack signal. Then hit the dirt and fire right and front. I’ll take left and rear. Stand here while I make contact. I need to let ‘em know what we want.” Travis stepped away from the gulch where their horses and supplies were waiting. He lifted his hands and gave the sign for “peace,” his hands before his chest, the left palm turned upward and the right hand grasping the left one snugly.
Travis knew he had to depend on his skill in sign language to get his points across to the concealed warriors. He lifted his right hand to shoulder level. With the index and middle fingers extended upward and held together and with the other fingers and thumb closed toward the palm, he gave the sign for kola, “friend.” He continued his mute one-sided conversation by giving the signs that he had come to make a trade for one of their white captives, the granddaughter of the man who was waiting with him. Travis silently entreated Chief Soaring Hawk to come and bargain with him for the girl’s release. To show the warriors he knew of their arrival and their locations, he faced the other three directions and repeated his message. The sable-haired man waited a few minutes, but no one responded to his claims or his summons.
Travis knew his patience and courage were being tested, so he made certain his expression remained calm and his stance remained poised. Travis decided to reveal his Indian identity to Soaring Hawk and his band, for tribes rarely related the humiliating and painful news of a warrior’s betrayal and punishment to outsiders. Unless
the traitor posed a threat to allied tribes, the personal and embarrassing matter was usually kept private. And since all those involved in that treachery had been slain or driven far away, there would have been no remaining danger to the Hunkpapas or their Lakota brothers. Travis hoped that some of these warriors who were closing in on him might recall the famed and fearless half-blooded warrior, White Eagle. What he had to do was recover Rana, then get them out of this area before the Hunkpapas heard of his return and labeled him a threat to their Lakota brothers, as well as unfinished business for them.
Travis gave the sign for “color” by rubbing the fingertips of his right hand in a circular pattern on the back of his left hand. Then his hands formed the signs for wanmbli and ska, indicating his name of White Eagle. Lastly, Travis revealed he was part Lakota by giving the signs for “half-Indian” and “Sioux” with the “throatcutter” movement, then signaled his bond to the Hunkpapa tribe. Again he motioned that he had come in peace to bargain with Soaring Hawk.
It was only moments before alone Indian approached him on a brown and white Appaloosa whose painted markings exposed the numerous and daring exploits of his bronze skinned master. The man proudly carried a coup lance with feathers attached from one end to the other, a counting stick for his many deeds. A bow and quiver of arrows were hanging over his broad back, and a war shield was clutched securely in his left hand. A leather sheath that held a buffalo jaw hunting knife was secured at the right side of his waist. The markings on the arrow quiver, buffalo shield, knife sheath, and horse’s rump worried Travis. They were symbols of the Black War Bonnet Society and boldly announced his membership in that fierce and determined “war medicine” brotherhood. Clearly this was a man of great prowess and high rank.
The Indian, who appeared to be in his mid-twenties, did not dismount or speak. A long mane of shiny black hair settled around the warrior’s brawny shoulders, and a beaded headband with geometric designs kept it from falling into his ruggedly handsome face and piercing eyes. The Indian’s pleasant features were strongly defined. He was dressed in a breechclout and low-cut moccasins, leaving most of his well-developed body in view. His dark skin revealed white scars here and there, signs of past battle wounds and the Sun Dance. Around his neck there was a wanapin, an amulet in the shape of a wolf’s head, with bared teeth, keen eyes, and ears erect and alert. Around his large biceps were secured arm bands with special coups colorfully etched on them and from which beaded thongs and feathers dangled.
“Hau,” Travis greeted the warrior genially, fearlessly. The amulet implied that the warrior was Lone Wolf, and Travis assumed he had been sent to investigate this matter for his father. As Travis eyed the striking man who possessed Wild Wind, incredible jealousy sparked within him until he reminded himself that she was living as the Indian’s sister.
Eyes the color of greased coal roamed the full length of Travis’s body and settled on his face. The Oglala warrior asked, “Nituwe hwo? Taku ca yacin hwo?” It meant “Who are you? What do you want?”
Travis easily responded in the Lakota tongue of his mother’s people, saying, “We have come to bargain with Chief Soaring Hawk for the release of a white captive. By the whites I am called Travis Kincade and by my Hunkpapa people I am known as White Eagle. Soaring Hawk, Chief of the Oglalas, is called a man of great courage and cunning. Why does he send another warrior to speak and stand in his place?”
Lone Wolf stared at the man with intensely green eyes, deep golden skin, and nearly black hair. The white man’s expression and stance told Lone Wolf that he was a man of great physical and mental prowess. Black eyes lingered for a moment on the red cloth band that was secured around Travis’s forehead in the Apache style. He noticed that the man was clad in fringed buckskin shirt and pants and was wearing knee moccasins. Something was suspended on a leather thong around his neck, but it was hidden beneath his sienna-colored shirt. “Iyeciciye sni yelo,” the warrior remarked, telling Travis that he had not recognized him. He continued in his tongue, “Many times Mother Earth has renewed her face since I heard Hunkpapa tales of the half-white warrior with fire in his heart and head. My own eyes witnessed his skills and courage when our tribes camped together for the buffalo feast and trading season. You have been gone many winters, White Eagle. Why do you return this sun to seek words with my father?”
Travis said, “Nawin Upizata he kci wowaglaka,” telling the intrepid warrior that he wished to speak with Soaring Hawk. “Tokiyaya hwo?” the ranch foreman continued, asking where he was.
The warrior replied in Oglala in a tone of confidence, “My father lives with the Great Spirit. His life was stolen by the burning ball of a bluecoat’s firestick. I am Lone Wolf, son of Soaring Hawk, chief of the Oglalas. Many changes have come to our lands, White Eagle, since you vanished. I believed you dead these many seasons. Oglalas joined the Black War Bonnet Society. Oglalas carry the signs of death and danger. Oglalas speak and wear war medicine. Many of our Dakota brothers have made treaty with the white dogs and have given away their lands and freedoms to end the white man’s war, to save their people. Surrender did not stop the white man’s war. The white-eyes seek defeat of all Dakota tribes and conquest of all Indian lands.”
Lone Wolf watched Travis intently. “Oglalas say, ‘What is life without freedom, sacred lands, and honor?’ But the white-eyes come swiftly and heavily as the winter snows. Many Lakotas are too old and weary to fight. Many have no warriors or weapons to battle our foes. Many have no place to run or horses to carry them. Soldiers attacked and burned many camps in the winter past; many starved and many died from the cold. The soldiers give little time to gather medicine herbs and to make weapons and to hunt game. They are sly and vicious as the badger. Many Lakotas live inside the fences that the whites called reservations!” he stated with repulsion, his eyes flickering with black fires of hatred and anger. Quickly he mastered his display of emotion.
“It is not so with the Oglalas and Hunkpapas. We fight our white and Indian enemies. Those who refuse to sign the white man’s treaties are called renegades, hostiles, savages! The white man seeks to defeat them and slay them. To stand against the bluecoats becomes a challenge to destroy us. They declare war on those who will not yield their freedoms and lands to greedy whites. Many soldiers and weapons have been sent to this land to conquer the Lakotas. We have painted death on our shields and robes, and we paint the mark of the Black War Bonnet Society on our faces when we ride to battle our white foes. The Hunkpapas join with the Oglalas to fight this white enemy, to drive him from our lands. White Eagle has not been in our lands and battles for many seasons. You dress and speak as white, the path you have chosen to walk. Gall is war chief of the Hunkpapas; he is the adopted brother of the medicine chief, Sitting Bull. Sitting Bull draws all Lakotas together with his words. Grandfather gave him the power to see beyond this sun to those to come. When he speaks, all Lakotas listen and obey, as you once did, White Eagle.”
Knowing it was a show of bad manners to interrupt a warrior when he was talking, Travis remained silent and attentive as Lone Wolf spoke. “Red Cloud, Crazy Horse, and Lone Wolf of the Oglalas defeat more of the whites than all other tribes together. The soldiers fear us and wish us dead. We cannot drive them from the lands they have taken from our brothers, for they are many and they carry magic weapons. But we will fight to hold our lands until no Oglala or Hunkpapa warrior is alive. Our Cheyenne brothers fight beside us. No white-eyes is safe in our lands. Your white blood has chosen the white man’s world. Go, and do not return while you side with our enemies.”
Realizing that Lone Wolf was unaware of the dark secret that had driven him from these lands years ago, Travis relaxed slightly. “I do not side or fight with the white soldiers, Lone Wolf. I left our lands to find peace and acceptance in another place many suns’ ride from our sacred Black Hills, a place where I am not forced to take my father’s or my mother’s side in a cruel war. I did not choose to be born with warring bloods. I rode from these lands to seek a place where
the fires within my heart and head could cool. Seven winters past I found my place of honor and happiness with the white man who travels with me. I live on his ranch on the lands that once belonged to the Kiowas and Comanches. We come to claim his granddaughter and take her home with us. She was taken captive by your tribe many winters past. She is white, so she is not safe in your lands. Your tongue has spoken the many reasons why she must be sent home to her family. Hear my words of truth, Lone Wolf, and release her to us, for she is loved by you and your people and you wish no harm to come to her.”
The warrior’s stoic expression did not change. Travis continued, “Your people need supplies for survival and defense, Lone Wolf; the man called Nathan Crandall will give you much money for her return to buy those supplies: food, blankets, knives, guns,” he offered temptingly. “We come in peace. Let us sit and make trade.” When Lone Wolf did not react, Travis reasoned, “What is the value of one white captive in exchange for needed supplies and weapons? You are chief. How will you help your people survive without food and weappons?”
“How much of the white-eyes money do you offer for one white captive? What is the girl’s value to White Eagle and his friend?”
“Her value is as large as the heaven, Lone Wolf, but we do not have enough money to fill it. His reward to the Oglalas for rescuing his granddaughter and caring for her will buy many supplies.”
The warrior did not glance at Nathan during this talk. “How can Lone Wolf buy supplies from white-eyes? Trading posts are guarded. Do you speak false, White Eagle? Do you set a trap for the Lakotas?”
Sweet Savage Heart Page 5