Lakota Dawn

by Janelle Taylor

  Chase was elated by that enormous honor. “I thank you, Blue Owl, for your kind words and generosity, but your son is a good warrior and the greatest deeds were his. I only gave him the chance to prove such things to himself and his people. All weakness and doubt have been driven from his body by the Creator. He has earned your pride in him.”

  They talked for a few more minutes, then went their separate ways.

  Before he reached his tepee, Chase was stunned and suspicious when Two Feathers approached him and spoke unexpected words within the hearing of War Eagle, Wind Dancer, and a few others.

  “I come to ask forgiveness for speaking and acting rashly and to thank you for saving my life, Cloud Chaser. I come to bury the hate knife between us. For the good of our people, we must have peace. Do you accept my gratitude and offer of truce and friendship?”

  Chase was positive that Two Feathers was lying and being clever, was certain his cousin despised him even more for being the one to rescue him and for earning another coup at his cousin’s expense. Even so, he had no choice except to clasp wrists with the man and pretend to believe him, as it would make himself look bad to refuse. “I accept your thanks, truce, and friendship,” he said, faking a smile. “It is good you offer them to me.”

  “It will be a hard path for me to walk, Cloud Chaser, for evil still tries to place doubts within me about your loyalty to us in future suns. I will seek to defeat that evil and to trust you.”

  After his three cousins thanked him and told him his action was good and wise, Two Feathers watched them walk away together, talking about Chase’s new victory, one which should have belonged to him; and one day, he vowed, his half-breed cousin would pay for dishonoring him.

  That night, Chase told Macha, “I do not trust my cousin. His offers are false and sly, but I do not know how he will use them to harm me. But do not fear or worry, my beloved wife, for I will be on alert against his evil,” he added before she could voice those he was sure she must be experiencing.

  “You have won the hearts and respect of our people, so they will not let him harm you. But I will also stay on guard against his tricks, for they are sure to come, if not in this season, then in one beyond it. You are wise to doubt him. After his return and the news of his attack was revealed, Robin did not look happy. I think it would please her if he was slain.”

  “Do not go near him,” Chase cautioned, “for he knows if I ever lose you, it will cause me much suffering.”

  “As it would cause me much suffering to lose you. I suffer even now from hunger for you,” she added, then sent him a provocative smile.

  “That is a pain I will seek to end,” he vowed, taking her in his arms.

  Two days later, scouts galloped into camp with grim news. After the incident with the prospectors, more parties of two braves each had been assigned to search their surroundings for other encroachers.

  As soon as their report was given and plans were made in haste, a large band with Wind Dancer as the leader rode away to handle the perilous matter. It included his best friend Red Feather, War Eagle, Cloud Chaser, Swift Otter, River’s Edge, Bent Bow, and two other warriors.

  Within two hours by Chase’s reckoning of wasicun time and using his long-range fieldglasses to avoid getting too close and risk being seen, their target was sighted gradually crossing the rolling terrain: a box-bed wagon filled with various-sized crates and barrels. Two armed men rode on its wooden seat and an armed man on horseback traveled on either side of it, making the odds nine to four in the Red Shields’ favor. The wagon was traveling in a direct path toward Bear Lodge Mountain, where Crow were camped for the winter, thirty miles northwest of the upper section of the Black Hills. Although the awesome site, called Devil’s Tower by wasicuns, was beyond their treaty-assigned territory, the White “peddlers” were carrying suspected goods which they believed must not reach their Indian enemies, and they were crossing Lakota grounds to do so. As instructed, the scouts had not attacked and had returned to camp for orders.

  Wind Dancer selected a location near the Wakpa-mni-sa that Chase and the others thought was perfect for the impending ambush. The band, their presence obstructed by the many and full trees and high grass, hurried to the Redwater River to conceal their horses and themselves amidst dense trees and bushes before their enemies’ arrival.

  The Red Shields prepared to respond to Wind Dancer’s bird signals as the wagon jostled along on a trail well trodden by passing Indian bands. They heard its wheels squeaking, its leather harnesses creaking, the iron shoes on the team and mounts thudding against the hard ground, and the men laughing and talking. The day was sunny and mild, with a steady and light breeze blowing in their direction, taking their scents away from enemy horses.

  When the wagon and riders were between them, Wind Dancer gave the signal to surround them—three cries of a local bird—and he was obeyed.

  Chase, selected as speaker to prevent exposing his brothers’ English skills, yelled, “Don’t fire or you’re dead! Keep calm and you’re safe!”

  The astonished driver jerked back on the harness reins and halted the team as the band of Indians seemingly appeared from nowhere and enclosed them with weapons at the ready, while theirs were lowered. He had reacted with caution, as had his three companions, to the shouts in their language.

  When the four white men focused on him, Chase said, “We don’t want to kill you or injure you, so drop those rifles and pistols to the ground, slow and easy. If you don’t follow my orders perfectly, my friends will take any other kind of movement as a threat and will shoot you. Do as I say and you won’t be harmed. I give you my word of honor.”

  Chase was relieved when they did as told.

  “What do you want with us?” the driver asked. “Who are you?”

  Chase responded with, “What’s in the crates and barrels?”

  “Just trade goods. We have a treaty and we ain’t here to fight, so we figured we could pass unharmed. Why are you attacking us?”

  Chase read the driver’s tension and deceit and asked again, “What’s in the crates and barrels, and where are you taking them?”

  “If you harm us, soldiers will come swarming down on you.”

  “There are no soldiers in this area. Answer my questions.”

  “It’s flour, blankets, and such. You’ll be in big trouble if you rob us.”

  Chase was almost amused by the driver’s false bravado. “You don’t mind if I take a look in a few of them, do you?”

  “Yep, I do, stranger. I done told you what I’m hauling. I ain’t no liar.”

  “Hauling where?” Chase demanded.

  “To trappers along the rivers ahead.”

  “There are no trappers anywhere near this territory and you can’t reach their real locations and return to Pierre Post before the snows fall.”

  “Then we’ll turn around and head back now.”

  “After you prove what you’re carrying. I’m going to climb aboard the wagon and see for myself. If any of you make a suspicious move, my friends will cut you down with arrows. I should warn you, if you have any hidden weapons on you and go for them, they can fire six to eight arrows before you can fire one shot. I wouldn’t challenge those odds.”

  “Let ‘im see what’s in ‘em, Pete,” one of the riders coaxed.

  After the other two men nodded agreement and the driver exhaled loudly in annoyance, Chase leapt onto the wagon bed and pried open several barrels and crates. He locked gazes with the driver and scoffed, “Looks as if somebody gave you the wrong load; all I see is whiskey, cartridges, and guns. Don’t you know it’s illegal to sell or trade either one to the Crow?”

  “I didn’t say nothing about visiting no Crow.”

  “Well, your route was heading straight for their camp. I doubt they would have allowed you to pass by without relieving you of this load, or let you ride off alive. But that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

  “Do what?”

  “Dump this whiskey, burn these rifle
s, and let you ride for Pierre.”

  “You can’t do that! I got lots of money and time tied up in this haul.”

  “This illegal haul, you mean, one I can’t allow to fall into the wrong hands. If those Crow get liquored up and have these guns, they’ll start a big ruckus against other Indians and soldiers. If you want me to arrest you and take you to Fort Laramie to speak with Major Hoffman about our difference of opinion,” Chase bluffed, “that suits me fine. Of course, if he doesn’t believe you, either, you’re talking broken laws and a long stay in jail. If you want to stay alive and free, I suggest you and your friend unhitch that team, climb on those horses, and all of you men get out of here as fast as you can.”

  “Let’s go, Pete; he ain’t fooling.”

  “Jim’s right, Pete; let’s get moving before they get antsy.”

  “Count me in on hightailing it fast,” the fourth man agreed.

  “Well, Pete,” Chase asked. “What’s it going to be? Do you vote smart with your friends there or challenge us alone?”

  “We’ll do as you say, mister, but I don’t like it one bit, and I’m gonna report you and this robbery to the soldiers.”

  “I hope you do,” Chase scoffed. “But if you forget, I’ll be sure to do so very soon. If I’m right about my suspicions, the Army will be looking for you afterward. If I were you men, I would get out of this territory fast.”

  “Can we keep our guns in case we run into trouble?” Jim asked.

  “Just your own personal weapons—you might need them with renegade Crow lurking about. Fetch and sheathe them, and no tricks.”

  While Chase related their talk in Lakota to the Red Shields, who kept their arrows aimed at the peddlers, the white men made their preparations to depart without the wagon. Without further talk or even a backward glance by any of the four, they left the scene with Pete grumbling about his men’s cowardice and about being “scraped clean by a bunch of redskins.”

  As two braves stood guard to make sure the men did not attempt a sneaky return and surprise attack, Chase suggested they keep several long crates of rifles and ample smaller ones of cartridges. “We will hide them nearby until we can come for them with a travois. I will teach my brothers, friends, and other warriors how to use them. When trouble comes to our land, we can use those weapons to help defeat it. But we must not keep all of them; if the traders return with armed companions or soldiers, it will be suspicious if burned portions of many firesticks and whiskey holders are not found here. They will believe we only sought to raid them, not prevent trouble; that would look bad for us. The food which feeds the firesticks must be dumped into the river to destroy it, for burning it is dangerous.”

  “Your plan is cunning and wise, my brother,” Wind Dancer concurred. “It is good you learned so much about our enemy and his weapons.”

  While the two guards watched for possible trouble, the rest of the band concealed the chosen crates amidst rocks and trees not far away, then brushed away their tracks. Afterward, they dumped the whiskey, piled broken boards around the crates, and used one of the “magic firesticks” from the match tin which Chase had purchased weeks ago at Fort Laramie to set the items ablaze. Smaller crates were forced open and their contents were dumped into the rushing water, their wood added to the roaring fire.

  The men sat and talked as they waited for the blaze to consume the rifles and wagon and for the sated flames to die down. To make certain no ember sparked a wildfire on the dried grass nearby, two barrels had been saved to haul water from the river to extinguish and soak them.

  After their tasks were finished, Wind Dancer smiled and said, “We have done a good and large deed, my brothers and friends. We destroyed these two evils and did not slay any Whites. Our chief and people will be pleased with us. Come. Let us return to our tepees and families before night blankets our land and slows our pace.”

  “It is not the approach of night which darkens the sky, my brother. Look there,” War Eagle said as he pointed in that direction. “A large storm threatens to strike soon. We must find a safe place to stay before it reaches us.”

  Wind Dancer nodded. “War Eagle speaks wise and true. We must ride to the forest and find cover from the sky’s fiery lances and heavy rain.”

  As they mounted quickly to gallop that lengthy distance, Chase was disappointed he would not be sleeping with his beloved wife that night. Surely she would realize the storm had delayed them and would not worry about him. Dreams of her would have to give him comfort and warmth on the wet and chilly night to come.

  Near their camp at that same time and as she rushed to finish her chores before the ominous weather closed in on that area, Macha stumbled upon a lethal scene and quickly used her sharp wits to handle it…

  Chapter

  Seventeen

  Macha stared at the horrible sight for a moment before she tossed aside the warming blanket from her torso and rushed into the stream. The cold water soaked her moccasins, chilled her feet and legs, and splashed upon the bottom of her dress. Her hands also were chilled to the bone and her garment fringe was drenched as she squatted near the motionless body and lifted the woman’s head. The female’s wet hair floated on the swift-moving surface and clung to her cheeks and shoulders. Sisoka’s face was pale and the flesh was puckered, her lips a bluish-white color, her eyes frozen wide open in terror. A dark bruise was visible on her forehead, which had rested against a large rock, but any blood had washed away in the current.

  Macha felt the woman’s throat and one wrist for a pulse, and found none. She bent over and listened for a heartbeat, and heard none. Nor were there any signs of breath. It was obvious Sisoka was dead and had been so for a long while. Macha noticed something clutched in the woman’s hand, and discovered it was a broken wanapin. Though the necklace implied her death was the result of an enemy’s attack, Macha did not believe that was true, and what she suspected alarmed her.

  She grasped Sisoka’s icy hands, dragged her from the stream, and lay her body on the bank. She removed the wanapin from the female’s hand and quickly hid it beneath a large rock near several bushes. She reasoned that if a Crow was lurking nearby, he would have been seen by their many scouts; and Sisoka either would have been captured or slain in a different manner. With the saturated fringe slapping at her ankles and her moccasins sloshing, she ran back to camp and alerted the first man she encountered to the grim incident: “Robin, daughter of Coyote and wife of Two Feathers, lies dead near the stream. Her body must be fetched before the storm comes.”

  Tall Elk, one of the Strong Hearts, asked what happened to her, dismay clear in his voice.

  “I do not know. I found her facedown in the water,” she began, and quickly related her shocking discovery, not telling him about the broken Crow wanapin. In the event she was mistaken in her speculations, she urged, “If enemies are responsible for this, the area should be searched before the rain washes away their marks upon the face of Mother Earth.”

  “I will summon others to help; you will take us to her body.”

  As soon as three other warriors were gathered from nearby, Macha guided the four men to the location. She listened and watched as Tall Elk revealed her previous disclosures to the others and they examined the scene and the lifeless woman. It was decided she tripped and fell, struck her forehead on the rock, and drowned while unconscious.

  “What if this is the wicked deed of an enemy and was made to look like a terrible fall?” Macha reminded. “Do you not think her expression of fear is strange for someone who was knocked out by a sudden blow to her head?”

  “You saw and heard nothing odd?” one of the men asked.

  “That is so,” Macha responded, though she hated to lie to them. Yet, if it was the malicious act of the one she suspected, she did not want an enemy blamed falsely, which would focus attention elsewhere. If Two Feathers was guilty of this cruel and cunning violence, the absence of the token he had planted might cast doubts upon him.

  Tall Elk told one of his companio
ns to alert Sisoka’s husband and parents to her death and—in the event it was an attack—to send out scouting parties while he and the others used Macha’s blanket to retrieve the body.

  As they entered camp with the men bearing the burden in a blanket sling, Macha watched Two Feathers, Coyote and his wife, and others rush to meet them. The body was lowered to the ground and the new arrivals enclosed it. Macha observed as Sisoka’s mother dropped to her knees, wailed in grief, and caressed her daughter’s ashen cheek. Coyote sent forth a soulful cry of anguish and stood behind his wife, gazing downward.

  “Who did this evil thing to my mate?” Two Feathers demanded.

  “No one,” Tall Elk said. “She fell and struck her head and drowned. We found no enemy signs nearby. Only Robin’s and Dawn’s tracks are there.”

  As soon as the details were related to him and the others, Macha saw Two Feathers stare at her in a curious manner. He wonders if I know the evil truth and concealed his false sign, or if another force destroyed it.

  “Robin was not careless; she was pushed into the water upon the rock. It is the work of an enemy,” he accused. “I will find and slay him.”

  “We saw nothing to point in that direction,” Tall Elk told him again. “But I have sent word to Blue Owl to have scouting parties ride out to study the area for signs of any encroachers.”

  Two Feathers looked at Macha. “You saw and heard nothing strange when you found her this way?”

  Macha kept her true feelings masked as she responded, “No, and Tall Elk and his companions searched the banks and stream for enemy signs. I could not help her, for her spirit had left her body when I found her. Robin is a big loss to your tepee and to the Life-Circles of her family. It is a sad day for our people. She must be prepared and placed on a death scaffold before the storm comes, for it is near and large.”