Lakota Dawn

by Janelle Taylor

  Coyote glanced upward and nodded agreement. He looked at Two Feathers. “Bring Robin to our tepee so her mother can wash and dress her and wrap her body in a blanket and buffalo hide,” he said. “While she does so, we will gather wood and make my child’s resting place on the hill nearby. We must hurry; soon the rain, wind, and fiery lances will attack.”

  “Tall Elk and others will help you, Coyote,” Two Feathers countered, “for I must go to the place where she was slain to search for enemy signs.”

  “We searched and found nothing there,” Tall Elk stressed.

  “Perhaps my eyes and ears will find things yours did not.”

  Coyote scowled. “If you must do so, go, but it is useless, for the skills and wits of Tall Elk and the others do not fail them.”

  Macha tensed, but concealed her reaction. What if, she fretted, Two Feathers found where she had hidden the Crow wanapin and pointed out her guilt to the others? Even if she revealed her motive, she would be in big trouble for her deception. As she prayed hard she had left no clues on the ground, it was as if the Great Spirit rescued her and displayed His anger at the wicked deed by calling down the storm’s wrath upon the area. Large and heavy raindrops began to pound upon them. Wind yanked at garments, tepees, weapon and cook stands, trees, dry grasses, and dying wildflowers. Lightning flashed across the sky, and thunder roared in its wake. “We must take cover fast,” she warned, hoping everyone would.

  “Bring my daughter,” Coyote almost ordered the sullen Two Feathers. “We will tend her body during the storm and place it on a scaffold later.”

  As Macha hurried toward her dwelling, she glanced back to see the annoyed warrior lifting his wife’s body to obey the older man’s stern request. She thanked Wakantanka for protecting her from exposure, assured now that she had done the right thing. Even if Two Feathers suspected her trickery, she reasoned, he could not be certain of it, as either the swift current or a displeased spirit or another person could have stolen the false hint which he had undoubtedly left behind to fool others. She wished Cloud Chaser were there to calm her and to assure her she had performed a good deed. She assumed he was safe and was only trapped somewhere by the fierce storm which was now raging overhead.

  Macha removed her soaked garments and moccasins, dried herself and her hair, and donned another dress for warmth. She sat down near the small and cozy fire, cuddled in a blanket, and ate the soup and bread she had cooked earlier, a meal she had wanted to share with her husband, as well as a passionate night in his embrace. Soon, he would be with her again.

  The menacing storm had passed and the weather was clear and mild when Chase and the other band members returned the next day and were greeted by their chief and council at the meeting lodge. Everyone in that group was shocked to learn of Sisoka’s death and of Two Feathers’ suspicion an enemy had slain his wife, though there had been no indication he was right. He faulted the rain for washing those signs away before he could find and follow them.

  After that grim news was shared with those who had been absent, Wind Dancer related the incident which his band had handled, pleasing his father and the elders.

  “Why did you not slay them?” Two Feathers asked: “They sought to give our enemies firewater and thundersticks to harm us and may try again.”

  “We obeyed the orders of our chief and council,” Wind Dancer said. “Those Whites will run from our land forever, for what they tried to do breaks their laws and they will be punished if they are found.”

  “Why did you not bind them and send them to Fort Laramie? Cloud Chaser could do so, for he can pass as a white man; he carries their looks and blood and the Bluecoats know and trust him.”

  Wind Dancer wondered why his cousin was so moody today. And why had he spoken so harshly about Cloud Chaser when he had so recently offered his friendship and gratitude? He reasoned the first part was because of Two Feathers’ anguish and shame over losing his wife. “We did not think it was safe to do so,” Wind Dancer answered, “for the Bluecoats live in fear of all Lakotas during these suns and would distrust what he told them after the Whites revealed how they were captured with Indian help. That could endanger his life. There also was no need to ride so far from our camp since we drove the evil traders away with our words and threats. My heart is sad over your great loss, my cousin, and it clouds your thinking; we did what is best for our people and allies.”

  “In the suns ahead, we will see if your words are true. Now I go to hunt.”

  “Who rides with you, my cousin?” War Eagle asked.

  “I ride alone.”

  Wind Dancer advised, “That is not safe when you are in pain,” and saw Two Feathers scowl before responding to him in a sullen tone.

  “Have you forgotten our training and teachings? A true warrior cannot allow suffering and loss to weaken or distract him. I go now.”

  Wind Dancer and his brothers exchanged questioning glances after their cousin left. “Perhaps Two Feathers needs to mourn his loss in privacy, but he does not think clear or act wise. Swift Otter, tell his best friend or brother to ride behind him at a distance to guard him. If he encounters other Whites as he did four suns past, he might forget the orders of our council and cause trouble.”

  When Swift Otter looked askance at the chief, Rising Bear said, “Go, Swift Otter, for my son thinks as I do.”

  The Sacred Bow carrier nodded and departed to carry out that order, as the others talked for a while longer.

  After the meeting was over and everyone left the lodge, Chase went to his tepee, where he found Macha waiting for him. After they shared many kisses and embraces, he leaned back and said, “It is good to be here.”

  “You have heard Robin lives no more on Mother Earth?” she said with sadness. “I must tell you what I did after I found her.”

  “That discovery was hard for you, my wife, so if you do not wish to speak of it again, I—”

  Macha silenced him with fingers across his lips. In hushed tones, she related the entire incident and her suspicion. “Was I bad, my husband?”

  “No, it was a brave and wise deed,” he acknowledged. “You told me of her fears, but I truly did not believe he would harm her,” Chase admitted in dismay.

  “Am I wrong about him, my husband?”

  Chase caressed her cheek and shook his head. “I do not think so. But we must not tell others about the Crow wanapin, for many trust him. It could return doubts in some minds about me if I speak against him when we have no proof he is guilty and not many suns past he offered me friendship. And others could hold angry feelings toward you for hiding the broken wanapin, thinking you sought to place the blame on him for his dislike of your husband. Do and say nothing to arouse his suspicions against you or he will seek to have you join Robin on the Ghost Trail. We must watch him carefully. If he harms you to spite me or to hide his evil deed from discovery,” Chase swore, “I will slay him with my bare hands.”

  Macha hugged him and rested her cheek against his chest as she promised, “I will be cautious and alert, my husband, as must you.”

  “I do not understand why he would place a Crow wanapin in her hand but try to make her fall appear her fault. That is strange. Yet, I do not doubt no Crow was to blame. It is possible, my wife, we are wrong. Perhaps Robin found the wanapin from a past attack and had it in her hand when she fell and struck her head. Yet, I feel certain my cousin slayed her for some reason we do not know, and he still hates me.”

  “As do I, my husband.”

  He caressed her cheek and said, “We will forget such troubling matters for now, but stay alert in the suns ahead.”

  Two sunrises later and a day after a band led by Wind Dancer went to retrieve the hidden crates, Chase and Macha sealed the flap to their tepee, loaded supplies, bid their families farewell, mounted, and headed for Paha Mato to honor their vows to the Great Spirit at that sacred site.

  * * *

  At dusk on the following day, they made a small camp at the base of Bear Butte, having travel
ed slowly to enjoy their privacy and the seasonal changes on the landscape. They gathered branches and erected a shelter, which they covered with several buffalo hides to ward off the night’s chill.

  After they ate, they snuggled together on their sleeping mat and shared tender and leisurely lovemaking.

  At dawn, the happy couple stood on the hillside with faces pointed toward the rising sun, soaking up its generous warmth and offering prayers of gratitude to the Great Spirit for their many blessings and evoking His guidance and protection in the wintery season ahead. They clasped hands and smiled, love and serenity filling their hearts and minds, as well as reverence for the occasion.

  They walked to a nearby location where many short trees and bushes were adorned with objects from past visitors— mainly beadworks, hairlocks, tiny pouches of stones and herbs, bits of cloth or leather, or parts of animals—all of which had been placed there for many reasons. They secured their prayer tokens to empty branches without speaking, as they believed their Creator knew the purpose for each one. After their task was completed, they returned to their shelter to spend time enjoying each other’s company.

  Shortly before the sun would set, Macha gathered scrubwood for a cozy fire while Chase walked to a stream to fetch drinking water for their last night there. After she finished, she headed to join him to enjoy the return stroll together. As she approached the stream, she froze in panic as she saw a strange coyote sneaking up on her husband, who was on his knees and bending over to fill his canteen. Although an attack by that normally shy creature was extremely rare, Macha sensed something different, violent, about that particular one, and it was evident he meant to strike at her beloved mate.

  All she had with her was a knife in a beaded sheath, and she knew it would be perilous to her to attempt to slay the creature at close range. There was no time to fetch her husband’s rifle from the shelter and she decided it was hazardous to shout a warning to Cloud Chaser, as the maddened animal might be provoked into attacking. Yet, she knew she had to do something. Anything!

  Macha noticed a tree nearby with well-positioned limbs. She snatched up several large rocks, ran toward the stealthy creature, shouted at it, and threw the rocks when it whirled and growled. Those blows enraged the coyote, and, as she hoped, it began to run in her direction with amazing speed. She darted to the tree and scrambled upward, attaining safety from its snapping jaws as it leapt up and down trying to grab her foot.

  Chase, who had heard the commotion and reeled to check it out, flung down the canteen and hurried to retrieve his rifle. Soon, he took aim and fired, slaying the creature with his first and only shot. He ran to the tree, assured himself the animal was dead, and helped a trembling Macha to the ground. He hugged her tightly in relief, as it was apparent the coyote was rabid. He cupped her face between his hands and gazed into her dark-brown eyes. “Are you injured, my love?” he asked as his heart thudded wildly, for he knew how lethal and painful such a disease was.

  “No, he did not bite or scratch me. I saw him sneaking up on you and knew that was the only way to save you. He is dead?”

  “Yes. A madness lived within him, so I was forced to take his life to protect us and other creatures. See his wounded leg. A sick creature gave it to him from a bite. He did not know what he was doing. You were brave to challenge him. You showed great courage, cunning, and skills, as Dewdrops did long ago when she challenged the grizzly to save my brother. I am proud of you, my wife, and you are a perfect match for me in all ways.”

  Macha smiled in delight at his sincere praise and hugged him tightly. “I love you, Cloud Chaser, and could not bear to lose you.”

  “You have proven your feelings for me many times, Sunshine of my heart. Now, I must drag his body away from this area and cover it with rocks so no other creature will devour his flesh and spread his sickness. Return to our camp and wait for me there; I will come soon.”

  As they lay nestled together on their sleeping mat, feverish passions which were partly fanned by their brush with danger heated their naked flesh more than the colorful flames nearby. Its smoke escaped through narrow openings left between the enclosing hides thrown over the branches; yet, its pleasant intermingled spruce and pine scent wafted around them. Except for their swift and shallow breathing, occasional words, the crackling of the fire, and the muffled songs of a few nocturnal birds, it was quiet inside the small abode. The thick buffalo hide upon which they lay was soft and comfortable, and only a thin blanket covered them from shoulders to feet. There was something about being secluded from others and cocooned in the warm and cozy shelter which heightened their awareness of each other and made them feel even freer to express their love.

  Chase’s mouth feasted on Macha’s, and hers did the same with his. Their tongues often danced together as each caressed and stroked the other’s body, giving and receiving pleasure with each touch. Their spiritual bond seemed to grow stronger each time they made love, which thrilled and enchanted them beyond measure.

  Chase used his hands and lips up and down her pliant form to arouse Macha to squirming need, and she happily did the same to her virile husband. Soon, they could restrain themselves no longer. Macha pulled Chase close, and as he entered her, she could not hold back a moan of delight. They moved together in passion’s ancient rhythm.

  Just before they climaxed within minutes of each other, Chase gazed into her glowing eyes and vowed, “Our Life-Circles will always be joined, my beloved Dawn, for they were entwined by the Creator. We are truly meshed as one. I love you more than any words can tell.”

  “As I love you, Cloud Chaser, my husband,” she replied. As her mouth fused with his, she surrendered to another splendid consummation of their commitment to each other, one which immersed her in sheer ecstasy for breathtaking moments, then encased her in tranquil contentment.

  Afterward, Chase cuddled her against his sated and serene body as he told himself how lucky he was to have her and his current existence; and he tried not to imagine how their lives could soon alter drastically.

  After they reached the Red Shield encampment and Chase revealed his wife’s awesome deed at Bear Butte, Rising Bear embraced her, took a feather from his chief’s bonnet, and handed it to her with a smile. “You saved my second son’s life and have earned this coup feather. I am proud of you, Dawn, and I am blessed with the two daughters who joined my family when they became mates of my sons. I pray War Eagle will find a wife as brave, cunning, and skilled as Dawn and Dewdrops are; and I pray Hanmani will find a husband when that season comes who is matched to her. Place this feather in a beaded rosette and wear it in honor of your coup.”

  “I will do so, my chief and second father, and I thank you for it.”

  After others had praised Macha and genial talk was shared, Chase asked, “Did any trouble strike while we were gone, Father?”

  “It has been quiet and safe, my son, and I pray it will remain so,” Rising Bear told him. “At the war council, others said they would send us word if danger neared their camps. Surely no word is a good sign.”

  “I hope that is true, Father. If Spotted Tail and those who believe as he does will remain in their winter villages, perhaps the Bluecoats’ anger and fear will grow smaller and die during the cold season.” For once, Chase prayed for heavy and deep snow to blanket the territory, as that should prevent the Army from leaving their forts and challenging any Lakota band.

  * * *

  As many weeks passed in peace, it appeared to Chase as if Rising Bear’s evocation was being answered, as only occasional light snow had dusted the landscape. Even so, Nahemana warned the chief and his three sons that trouble was brewing elsewhere which eventually would involve them; yet, when and how, he did not know, as the Great Spirit had not revealed such things to him.

  On what Chase reckoned to be about November twenty-second by the white man’s calendar, his worst dread was realized when Nahemana’s warnings came true when two Oglala braves arrived from Mahpialuta’s camp.

  Aft
er the chief, council, and warrior societies were gathered in the meeting lodge around midday, one brave divulged, “Red Cloud sent us to our ally, Rising Bear and the Red Shields. Six suns past, Spotted Tail and his Brules stole mules from Fort Kearny; his sister’s son—Crazy Horse—rides with him. Ten suns past, Red Leaf—brother of Brave Bear who was slain by Grattan—and Spotted Tail and his followers attacked the rolling travois on the large trail between Fort Laramie and Fort Kearny. They took its animals, killed many white men, and stole what Whites call mail and gold.”

  A worried Rising Bear asked, “Did Red Cloud or any Oglalas ride with Spotted Tail and the Brules who yearn for war?”

  “No, for Red Cloud chose at the great council to honor the Long Meadows Treaty until the Bluecoats break it and ride against all Lakotas. Before the fight between the Brules and Grattan, our band often hunted on the Laramie Plains and Platte River grasslands. We were camped near Fort Laramie on that dark day when Grattan and his Bluecoats were attacked and slain, but Red Cloud and our people did not strike back. We had no alliance with the Brules on that sun, so their battle did not involve us. When more attacks came from the Brules, Red Cloud told us we must leave that area to avoid trouble; only Old Smoke—our past chief—and a few elders remained nearby. To this sun no harm has come to them, for the Bluecoats do not fear an old man and others like him who are too weak to challenge them.”

  As Chase listened and observed, he remembered seeing Crazy Horse at the war council in late September and hearing about the young warrior’s daring exploits and fierce hatred of the Whites. Like Chase, the brave, once named “Curly,” had light skin and wavy medium-brown hair, and it was said that he was often mistaken for a white man or a half-breed. But those who had known his mother, Spotted Tail’s sister, vowed the boy was hers by birth and swore his father was not one of the enemy, but a full-blooded Indian. Chase reasoned those claims must be accurate, since Crazy Horse would not be accepted so fully by the aggressive Brules if he were a half-breed.