“He was gone. I came to find him. He—”
Chase interrupted and explained his absence, withholding only the part about visiting with Macha for a short time. “My cousin hopes I will flee or disobey so badly that he spies on me and insults me and Father.”
Wind Dancer glanced at his cousin and asked, “Is this true?”
When Two Feathers did not respond fast enough and glowered at Chase as if to dare him to repeat what he had said, Chase related their exchange of words, some of which his brother must have overheard.
Wind Dancer lifted his hand to indicate silence as he thought about the offensive matter for a while, trying to decide how best to handle it. He did not want to speak of his father’s past weakness with either man or to reveal their words to others, which could cause trouble in camp. “Go, my cousin, and do not return to Cloud Chaser’s camp without Father’s permission,” Wind Dancer ordered. “If you disobey, I will reveal your bad words to him.”
After Two Feathers left in a sullen mood, Chase asked Wind Dancer the question that had been tormenting him: “My cousin hated me as a child and he hates me as a man, my brother. Why?”
“He fears you will betray and shame his beloved chief and uncle and you will bring pain to his heart,” Wind Dancer speculated.
Chase guessed that was just a partly accurate supposition, but he was grateful to be answered. Although he sensed tension and wariness in Wind Dancer, at least and at last they were talking. “Is that also what you think, my brother?”
Wind Dancer locked his gaze with Cloud Chaser’s and felt compelled to admit, “I do not know my true thoughts and feelings, but they will be clear to me soon.” He wanted to say more, but this was not the best time. He had loved his brother and grieved over his loss, and he did not want anything bad to happen to force him to experience those feelings again. He wished this grim situation was different and simple, but it was not; and a mistake in trust and judgment could be fatal for his people, for his family.
“Did your doubts lead you to have War Eagle and his small band follow us this morning? What did you expect to happen?” he asked, and witnessed his older brother’s astonishment.
“They trailed us to prevent trouble,” Wind Dancer said in honesty.
“Was that by your order or by Father’s?”
“It was Grandfather’s, for he seeks to protect the next chief.”
“Protect you from me? He fears I would harm my own brother?”
“To protect me from any and all harm; that is all I can tell you.”
“Thank you for speaking the truth to me; it brings great joy to my heart and spirit. Is there a chance I will be accepted one day, or am I wasting my time here? Should I go or stay?”
“That is your choice to make, Cloud Chaser.”
“No, my brother; it is our father’s and people’s choice.”
“If your heart and purpose are good, wait for that sun to rise. Now I must go, for darkness is here and my family waits for my return.”
Chase smiled. “I am eager to meet your wife and son, my brother, when you say the time is right.”
“It is up to you to make that sun rise, Cloud Chaser. I go now.”
An exhilarated Chase watched his brother leave. Surely he had not misunderstood Wind Dancer’s subtle attempt at encouragement: “Wait for that sun to rise.” At long last, maybe he had made progress toward his goal. Perhaps all he had to do was be patient, obedient, and stay out of trouble. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to live here and have a home and a family of my own? he thought as he settled on his bedroll, then asked himself why he was thinking such optimistic thoughts. He concluded it was because of his meeting with Macha, as she was even more tempting up close than at a distance. And it also had to do with his past experiences. He had lived his early years as a near-outsider, as the half-Indian child of a white woman, a mother who had been taken from him when he was only nine. He had yearned for his father to look at him and treat him as Rising Bear did his other sons, and he had believed that would happen one day. Despite the Martins’ love for him, he had never felt he really belonged on a farm or living amidst all Whites. He had felt set apart, different, a guest in their Oregon home. He had made a few friends with schoolmates and neighbors, but those had not been close relationships, such as he had experienced with Wind Dancer and War Eagle, who had been called Tokapa and Icinunpa before sacred vision-quests gave them their adult names. He had missed his father, two brothers, and sister. He had always believed this was where he belonged; this was where he would be fulfilled. Deep inside, he knew his destiny was here with the Red Shield Oglalas and on Lakota lands, and with Macha as his wife.
Icinunpa. Chase’s mind echoed the name he should have been given, for he was Rising Bear’s “Second” son, not War Eagle, though he bore no resentment toward his younger brother for possessing it for many years. Wind Dancer had deserved his name of “Firstborn,” the same as his own son of two years. A son…a child I can rear with love and pride. A child who will not be forced to endure rejection and anguish. But is that possible to do in a territory filled with animosities and conflicts? I don’t know.
The next morning, Hanmani arrived with his usual meal and a surprise for him. As she passed the small bundle to Chase, she whispered, “This is from Dawn; she cooked bread with dried nuts and berries. She told me of your talk in the forest. You must be careful not to go near her until you are a Red Shield again. If my cousin learns of your meeting, he will get you and her into trouble, for he will soon ask for her to join to him.”
Chase was shocked and vexed by that news. “Does Dawn love Two Feathers? Will she become his wife?”
“No, my brother, she does not love him or wish to mate with him. He is also of my lost grandparents’ bloodline, but I fear he is bad. He has made whisperings to me about approaching her, but I have tried to stop him. He is viewed as a brave and skilled warrior and carries the blood of a past chief, so her parents will believe him a good choice for her and will ask her to accept him. I cannot speak against my cousin before others, for it would cause much trouble. Dawn is afraid, for she does not know how she will reject him without insulting his honor and displeasing her parents.”
“Why are you telling me such sad things, my sister?”
“Because of the sacred vision-dream and because she is my best friend and I do not want her mated to him.”
“What can I do to prevent it, my sister?” Chase asked.
“I do not know, but you must try to save her.”
Chase perceived how worried and desperate Hanmani was, and hated to imagine Macha’s feelings. “How soon will Two Feathers speak for her?”
“After the buffalo hunt, unless he learns of your feelings for her. If he does so, he will speak fast and strong for her only to hurt and defeat you. I must go now, but think on my words, for she is your destiny.”
Chase did not have a chance to reply to that astonishing assertion before Hanmani rushed away to tend her daily chores. He sat on his bedroll and began to eat, his thoughts and emotions in a quandary. He was convinced by now that his sister believed and accepted him fully, though she dared not tell or show such feelings to anyone other than Macha. Yet, how did she think he could step between Two Feathers and his objective while he was still secluded and being tested? Hanmani was accurate in one area: if their cousin even suspected Cloud Chaser desired the daughter of Leaning Tree and Ohute, he would go after her with full force in order to spite him.
As Chase savored the sly treat and stroked the soft fur of the rabbit pelt it had been wrapped in and had been held in her hands, he thought, It will snow on the hottest day in summer before my cousin touches her!
* * *
At midmorning of the following day, War Eagle and Swift Otter approached Chase’s campsite. “Do you wish to ride and hunt with us?” War Eagle asked. “Your horse needs a good run.”
Chase noted that his brother had spoken in Lakota, not English, and was scrutinizing him. He presumed he was about to f
ace another test of some kind, but he was glad to have a diversion and exercise. He smiled and thanked War Eagle, and greeted the other warrior, a Sacred Bow Carrier like his brother.
As they walked to their horses, War Eagle wondered if Cloud Chaser suspected he was taking him along to see what he said and did, actions he was to report to his father, brother, and grandfather. Besides Swift Otter, three men were going with them: River’s Edge, Broken Lance, and Two Feathers. His cousin Broken Lance often rode and hunted with him, but Two Feathers did not. He was being taken along at Wind Dancer’s request, to see how their cousin behaved toward Cloud Chaser. Wind Dancer had confided the lingering conflict to him and wanted to learn if Two Feathers was obeying his warning. If there was going to be trouble between the two men, Wind Dancer, as a Shirt-Wearer who handled such problems, wanted to know before their journey to the Grasslands began soon.
As Chase saddled his mount, he said to War Eagle, “I will need my weapons for hunting. May I have them?”
“You cannot slay the Great Spirit’s creatures with a firestick. To give up their lives to a white man’s weapon would bring them great shame.”
Chase halted his task and looked behind him, but already knew who was standing there and speaking to him in such a harsh tone. Just as he dreaded, Two Feathers was going with them, and no doubt would spoil the outing. “I would use a bow and arrows, my cousin, but I do not have any. It is hard to slay a creature from horseback with only the knife I wear.”
“You can use our weapons?” Two Feathers scoffed with a glare.
“I am skilled with a bow and arrows, for I made and used them far away to keep in practice for my return home.”
“If that is true, why did you not bring them with you?”
“I thought it unwise to travel in the territories of the Whites and other tribes with such weapons. I will make another bow and arrows soon.”
War Eagle had come prepared for this possibility. He handed Chase his old bow and a plain quiver of four arrows. “Use these,” he offered. “I will test my new bow and quiver and ready them for the great buffalo hunt.”
“Thank you, my brother; they are still good weapons,” Chase said as he examined them, then suspended them around his torso in Lakota fashion.
War Eagle nodded, then glanced to where the other three members of his hunting party were mounting to leave. “Come. We ride,” he said, and swung himself atop his horse with fluid agility.
Two Feathers glared at the half-White man and said in a low voice, “If you try to flee, weakling dog, I will send my arrow into your back faster than you can travel across our land.”
“Your quarrel with me is foolish and must halt, my cousin,” Chase retorted. “We are no longer boys; we are men now and must behave as such. I have offered you my hand in peace, but you have refused to grasp it and only seek to cut it off. I will not offer you a truce again, for it is useless.”
War Eagle overheard that exchange and delayed his departure to warn, “Such words are not needed, my cousin. If you do not want to ride with him, you can hunt with others or with us on another sun. A Sacred Bow Carrier must practice the Four Virtues. Such words, feelings, and actions do not show Courage, Wisdom, Generosity, and Restraining Endurance.”
Two Feathers scowled. “I ride with you this sun, War Eagle.”
Chase mounted and followed behind the other four men, all led by his younger brother, who had earned his respect and gratitude for War Eagle’s bold words to their now-sullen cousin. He was surprised that War Eagle had come to his defense and had reprimanded Two Feathers so forcefully, and with what appeared to be gleams of anger in his eyes. He hadn’t known that Two Feathers was a Sacred Bow Carrier, a high rank that only four men held at a time. How had the rancorous male earned that lofty position? Obviously there was more to know about his cousin than he had witnessed so far.
Although War Eagle was only twenty, it was apparent to Chase that his younger brother was confidant, respected, and intelligent. His status of Sacred Bow Carrier proved that War Eagle also possessed enormous prowess as a seasoned warrior. Pride over both brothers’ accomplishments surged through Chase, and he yearned to become more like them. With their help and acceptance, he reasoned, he could achieve that new goal. As he envisioned the three of them galloping across the Plains side by side while laughing and talking and defending their territory and people, excitement swept over him like the powerful waves crashing over jagged rocks which he had once seen on the Oregon coast.
The Great Spirit and Mother Earth had created immense beauty and diversity across this vast land, Chase concluded, so it was understandable why both cultures and others from across the Big Waters desired to make it theirs. It was a shame that they couldn’t live in peace. If only the Indian Nations—ally and enemy—could band together and make a truce, they could keep the Whites at bay for a long time; and the Nebraska Territory could become Indian Territory, and avoided by Whites for any and all reasons. After all, the Whites did have a large country from which to select settling places without stealing this one. He knew that to be a fact because he had traveled a large section of it and had seen maps of the rest. His father and the others were right: this part of the country should not be encroached by the enemy, for it belonged to the Indians.
After a meandering ride, which he spent in deep thought, Chase cleared his head and came to alert when War Eagle held up his hand to signal them to halt. His brother gathered them closer to whisper his instructions, and Chase—along with the others—nodded, as all were compelled to obey the orders of the party leader.
War Eagle had decided to go after either elk or moose today, animals which preferred to graze and take brief rests in either lush meadows near woods or in marshy wetlands near rivers and lakes. To stalk their prey from three directions, they were separated into pairs: Swift Otter with Two Feathers, War Eagle with Broken Lance, and River’s Edge with Cloud Chaser.
They spread out to surround the chosen area before closing in on it and entrapping between them whatever creature grazed there. Chase was in a good mood. He had ridden and talked with his older brother, who had seemed to slyly give him encouragement about an impending reunion. He was hunting with his youngest brother, who had taken his side against a fellow society member and close relative, just as Wind Dancer had done in a smaller manner two days ago. Many things he had learned or been told about their customs and ways during childhood were returning to his mind at a swift and clear pace. It was as if he had suppressed such knowledge in Oregon to lessen or prevent the anguish of losing what it represented. Now that he was home, a flood of memories filled his head.
Chase stole a sideways glance at the brave with whom he rode. He wondered if River’s Edge resented being paired with him. They hadn’t spoken, but they had to maintain silence to avoid spooking birds or small creatures which might in turn alert their prey to intruders and danger.
At one point, River’s Edge dismounted to study the ground for tracks. After finding fresh ones, he motioned for Cloud Chaser to hold his position and remain quiet. River’s Edge crept a lengthy distance ahead of the other man and his own horse. As he knelt behind bushes to scan the area beyond him to see if he sighted his prey, he heard threatening snarls and hurried movements to his rear and whirled to see a badger coming toward him. As he did so, he lost his balance and fell backward to the ground, a lack of time preventing him from retrieving his bow and an arrow on his back. With haste, he reached for a sheathed knife at his waist. Wide-eyed, he saw the ferocious creature stumble when an arrow thudded into its enraged body. He watched Cloud Chaser race forward, seize the thrashing animal by its scruff, and quickly and mercifully end its suffering and life.
River’s Edge looked past the other man as his startled horse danced about in panic and stepped into a hole, then collapsed to the earth. He bolted forward to the beloved beast to find him in great pain with a broken leg. As the other man joined him and knelt to examine the severe injury, he said, “Such breaks will not heal; h
e must be released from this life. He has been a good companion, so this deed is hard for me to do.”
“I will do it for you, River’s Edge, for it wounds the heart and mind to take the life of a friend, even when that task is needed.”
River’s Edge took a deep breath and stared at the horse in agony. “It will be a good deed if you take my place in this matter. Do it fast and kind, as with the badger.” He glared at the hole where a stump had rotted, one which had become filled and concealed by leaves and twigs. He had dismounted from the other side and had not seen that peril.
Chase wiped his sharp and bloody blade on the grass, then looked at the tormented brave. “It is over. You can ride with me to join the others. Do you want me to skin the badger for you?”
“I will do so, but I thank you for your help, Cloud Chaser. It is good to be companions on this hard day, for our sisters are best friends.”
Chase eyed the brave and realized why he looked familiar, as Macha’s tepee was not within view of his campsite and he had not seen this brave enter or depart from there. “You are Dawn’s brother?”
“That is so. We were born at sunrise near a river’s edge; that is how we were named. I came first and she followed. We do not match in looks, but we are alike in many ways. I have not taken my man name, for I have not done that vision-quest to this sun. You and I did not play together as boys, for you were older, but I am glad you ride with me on this hunt. I will tell your father and brothers of your brave and good deeds.”
“Thank you, River’s Edge; it is an honor to ride with one such as you.”
“I must sing the death chant for my companion before he is left here to be claimed by the forces of nature. I will join you soon.”
Chase grasped that River’s Edge wanted privacy to mourn his loss, so he nodded and walked a lengthy distance away, taking his mount with him. With his back turned, he listened to the soulful sounds and muffled words coming from behind him. As he did so, he stroked his horse’s neck and forehead, for they also had been companions for a long time—since his sixteenth birthday, or the day chosen to celebrate it by the Martins. He remembered how Tom had sold extra vegetables and firewood he had chopped and how Lucy had sold two quilts she had made to pay for the animal. He cherished the gift and their many acts of kindness. He had no doubts they had loved and treasured him. Yet, how could he adequately explain his feelings and sense of loyalty to his adoptive parents to his family and people here when they viewed all Whites as the enemy? Yes, their deception had pained him, even angered him for a time; then, he had come to understand and forgive it. If only—
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