Chapter XVII
Valley of the Dead
They had been running all day and still they had not thrown off their pursuers, who were surely led by the creature Fenrir: the beast they had nearly encountered so disastrously when stealing the charm from Leif Erikson. Crazy Coyote and Yellow Hand had been sent to spy on the enemy, to make sure the way was clear and that they had not been overtaken, Black Elk was now waiting their return, he had earlier been relieved to see the arrival of the conspirators who had been sent into the enemy camp, but no sooner had they returned than he had sent the two out on a scouting mission.
The only surprise, he felt was that the spies of the enemy had not yet caught up to them; though Humming Bird did remind him that if they had, they would not even know they were there, and that there was time enough yet for their capture. Running Antelope, a Shaman of some quality, had said that the magic used by the Sky People would protect them and make it difficult for them to be found.
“What if Crazy Coyote and Yellow Hand have been caught?” said Humming Bird. “It was foolish to send them out like this with the Shadow People hunting us and alert to any movement.”
“Foolish, but in the end necessary,” replied Black Elk. “We need to make sure that should our enemy catch up to us we are able to give a good account of ourselves, and for that we would need to be warned of their coming. You see I believe they have not understood as yet how strong a party we are. When you stole that charm they must have thought it was taken by one of their own and that is why it took so long for them to come after us. Once they finally picked up our trail they would have discovered that our size was far greater than they could ever have foreseen and because of that we’ve given them pause.” Black Elk became distant as he spoke; his dark eyes were like cavernous depths that held a deep passionate fire of their own. “When the time comes I hope all our people are as fearless as you and the others that went with you.”
“I am certain of it,” said Humming Bird. “Though I feel we must make our stand soon. The sun now approaches its height and it is good that the lands have warmed - the worst of winter has passed and spring approaches. If we are to slow the Shadow People down then we must act before the lands soften.”
“Let us see what Crazy Coyote and Yellow Hand say,” replied Black Elk. “They are expert trackers and should be back soon; otherwise we will have to step up our pace and assume that for whatever reason they are unable to return.”
“You’re not going to send someone after them?” Humming Bird asked.
“I’m afraid I cannot,” Black Elk sighed. “We must keep moving and to send others risks telling the enemy where we are, but do not despair - Crazy Coyote was born to be cunning and Yellow Hand is thought of as a great scout among the Nations of Turtle Island; so I believe them to be safe.”
“But none,” replied Humming Bird with a frown, “have come up against a foe like the one we face.”
“I know,” said Black Elk and then with a broad determined grin, “that also means, of course, that they have never encountered the likes of us before.”
“How long do we keep running for?” asked Humming Bird.
“There is a place one to two days distant from here, where we can make a stand but we must get there untouched by intrigue if possible. It’s a narrow gorge where the numbers of the enemy will count for nothing.”
“And then?”
“And then, Humming Bird, we are at the mercy of Great Spirit.”
The two travelled on in silence, so lost in thought that they did not realise how unforgiving the ground was, nor did they notice the thrashing rain once it had begun. The First People were steadfast and certainly hardy. They looked upon the Shadow People as if they were a storm that could be weathered and after, life would move on, though what life they did not know. The First People were as diverse a people as you could hope to see. There were nations that held to specific lands that their ancestors had settled ages past while others roamed the prairie hunting buffalo, there were those that fought with a savage ferocity and those that believed that war was madness, indeed some lived in stone houses whilst others kept to tepees but all had things in common - their connection with the land and their belief in Great Spirit and the brotherhood of the Nation they belonged to. All in all they were a most civilised, cultured and remarkable people as any that walked the earth; but in that, there were nations among them, as with all those of Terra Azure, who were willing to enslave, dominate, and take the lands of others.
Black Elk led them across the lush grasslands, knowing that their pursuers were never that far behind them; from a distance their company appeared as a snake weaving its way across the rapidly transforming lands. He made a brief stop so that they could rest and eat before hurrying his people forward once more.
At the rear of the column ran Running Antelope with Red Cloud, a tall brooding stalwart of a warrior whose leathered face belied the man who had only seen twenty five summers, the two had fought many times together, and been on many hostile campaigns, but this was unlike any they had known.
“We have never questioned the Sky People before,” said Red Cloud, “but this War they have brought down upon us has proven unwise. Many have died that should have seen another summer. We should not have been involved.”
“I know,” replied Running Antelope, “that these days are difficult to understand. But if it were not for the Sky People we would not have learnt the ways of Great Spirit. It was the Sky People that taught us so much, so now in their need do we turn aside and let them face this danger alone? And if we did so do you think that their fate would not become our fate? It was the Sky People that brought us fire, helped our ancestors build the first lodges and taught us many sacred ways. I tell you without the Sky People the First People would not be first among the many nations of this world.”
“You are right, and I’m sorry,” said Red Cloud. “I feel anger for what I’ve seen and my thinking is clouded because of this. I was taught that each of us should honour our ancestors and do what is good for the nation and it is this that makes me wonder - are we doing what is right if by helping the Sky People means the end of our people?”
“Think on what I say,” said Running Antelope carefully, “if we did not help the Sky People then the destruction of our way of life and the First People would be assured. The Shadow People would make slaves of us if we did not do their bidding; and our ways are not their ways. They live in mighty villages and do not roam the lands. They do not know the way of the Buffalo or the Sun-Dance, we would find them strange and not in keeping with this land and we would eventually rise up against them and by then without the help of the Sky People it would be too late to affect anything. Better we fight them now while we are able than war when we are not.”
“And after that what is to happen to us?” said Red Cloud, “should we fail.”
“Then we would not have disgraced our ancestors,” replied Running Antelope, “and our children will take heart that we did not softly walk into darkness but thundered in the night. And should our bones ever be discovered at the place where our blood was spilt then let others say that there died those that stood with courage against the Shadow that came from across the Great Lake.”
Red Cloud took a deep breath, his eyes ablaze as the words of Running Antelope gave fresh life and vigour to his wearied limbs. As the pace quickened, beneath their weathered moccasins poked a small pale blossom, barely noticeable as it struggled to free itself from tired earth and moulded crust. No longer did they feel there was a fate to be resigned to, and now that winter was passing they did not feel its burdened touch. The bitter long nights were becoming a thing of the past, life was returning in all its colour and vivacity. Indeed they felt at that moment that perhaps things were not so bad and their enemy not so fearful - after all did they not fight on the side of Great Spirit? The air though cool felt fresh, birds were returning to blue skies and herds of buffalo untouched by their worries curiously watched as they passed by. As
they raced across the creeping grasslands there emerged out of a wooded hollow, two figures running toward their line, apparitions that slowly took form as they approached. It was Crazy Coyote and Yellow Hand, they had finally returned; at the front of the column they caught sight of Black Elk and barely slowing or breaking stride the two joined him there.
“What of the Shadow People?” asked Black Elk.
“They are as many as the Buffalo,” replied Crazy Coyote, “they are coming this way.”
“So our time has come at last to meet our enemy?” said Black Elk quietly, “all the better, I think today we shall make the Grey Beards regret coming to our lands. They, of course, have many great scouts among them from the Seneca, Seminole, and many others and of course there is Fenrir, all will soon know our path.”
“And they are hunting us as though they believe we are the main host. So that part of the plan has worked. So what now?” asked Crazy Coyote.
“Now we make for the Valley of the Dead.” replied Black Elk, “It can only be entered through a narrow pass, and it is there that their numbers will mean nothing. We may have not led them astray but at least we have brought them down upon us in their full strength. There we will find another way to delay them.”
“There is something else,” said Crazy Coyote, “they have killed more of their own; something must have happened that has caused much anger in their great village to punish so many. I would say that what we took is something of high import. It would be wrong for them to get it back.”
“I understand,” said Black Elk, “do you think they would follow us if we took a different path?”
“I believe,” replied Yellow Hand quickly cutting in, “that it’s too late for us to follow another trail. They have sent out many scouts and must already know our whereabouts. But the Valley of the Dead is not that far so as long as we remain ahead of them - they should not catch up to us before we reach it and then we can make a stand.”
“Also,” said Crazy Coyote, “we caught sight of Fenrir; he was tracking us, it was with great skill that we led him astray and it only worked because there were two of us. We let him catch up to our trail, follow us and then without him realising it we took to the river. We then let him pass us by before we returned from whence we had come.”
“Do you know if your ruse worked?” queried Black Elk.
“If it hadn’t we wouldn't be here now,” replied Yellow Hand, “but I’m sure he soon realised the deception and will be all the more enraged when he finds us. I have never seen such as he - even the Wendigo fear him.”
“Then, we will need something special to stop him.”
“To stop Fenrir,” replied Humming Bird who had remained quietly by Black Elk’s side, “perhaps there is something in this charm that might have an answer to his downfall but I would need to go on a Vision Quest to find out what it could be and we may not have time for that. Let me think on it some more.”
“Very well,” said Black Elk, “but remember our aim is the Valley of the Dead.” Black Elk quickly turned his attention back to Yellow Hand. “Do you know how long before they catch up to us?”
“The warriors that are set against us,” said Yellow Hand “will reach us soon - maybe even before dusk.”
“Then we had better reach our destination by then,” said Black Elk, “we shall not cease or rest, and by doing that we will get to the valley before night fall. Tell the others we must fly like the eagle!”
Black Elk quickened his pace and as he did so the entire company instinctively did the same. They knew that once Fenrir picked up their scent, then it would not be long before their whereabouts would be known to the rest of the Shadow People; which meant they could be running straight into a trap. The grasslands flashed past brook, vale and tree, all merging into one; the sun lurched across the sky, creeping ever closer to the horizon, and still their pace did not slacken. Deer would run for cover and birds would take sudden flight at their approach, and so it was as they went all manner of beasts knew of them. In the distance, as the sun drew to its close, two rocky peaks came into view, straddled on either side by woodland copses that stretched like a thick shadowy blanket. At the far end they rose, greeting each other; this was a place without escape. As the sky reddened a vapour appeared in the midst of that tethered vale and shadows lengthened within it. Crazy Coyote and Yellow Hand were the first to enter the valley, making sure the way was clear for the others that followed; its broad steep edges afforded some protection but no retreat. Slowly their approach was made, for as they came closer they could see, upraised on wooden stilts, and running along crafted ridges, row upon row of empty worn bones, all held high and adorned so that they could face Great Spirit with dignity. These people had not been hidden beneath the earth but had been displayed for all to see and marvel at; this was where great warriors were brought. It was an ancient burial ground; weathered and torn, but well honoured. And as the last of the host led by Black Elk entered in, far off behind them could be seen lights. At first they were strange and difficult to make out as if they were nothing more than a swarm of buzzing fire flies, but as they got nearer it was as if a great unstoppable fire was about to engulf them. Black Elk stood at the entrance to the valley and stoically watched the enemies approach.
“Red Cloud, send for Humming Bird.”
Yellow Hand stood thoughtfully by, tomahawk in hand. He tapped it lightly against his leg.
“So the war begins,” said Crazy Coyote.
“We have been at war,” said Black Elk, “since they first came to Turtle Island. It’s just this time they will understand the courage of the First People.”
“They are as many as the stars in the sky,” said Yellow Hand, his eyes narrowing.
“Running Antelope - is there anything we can do to make them fear what is to come?”
“From what Crazy Coyote says, they have people guarding their village and they surround it with wooden posts so it will be difficult to slip in?”
“But we did it once,” replied Black Elk.
“Yes,” said Running Antelope. “I feel they will be expecting something like that again and be prepared for it.”
“You are right,” responded Black Elk. “Then we will disappoint them and not fall into the trap they have most likely laid for us. Where is Humming Bird?” He stared into the deepening gloom as if his eyes could pierce the dark, and out of the deepening gloom he saw her arrival. “Come, I need to know have you thought of anything that might defeat Fenrir; and the Wendigo for that matter, when they come upon us.”
As he spoke they heard the sound of a horn and the rhythmic beat of drums echoing in the wind. They all turned to see great fires come alive in the enemy camp.
“They appear to be celebrating,” said Black Elk, laughing. “I think they believe that tomorrow will be a quick and easy victory.”
“I think we should join them.” said Humming Bird.
“Crazy Coyote thinks they will be waiting for us.”
“That’s as maybe,” replied Humming Bird, “but let’s use that to our advantage. We feign to attack, to lure them away from our real intent which will be to set fire to such food stuffs as they have got. When I lived among them they had great store lodges filled with food, and they are sorely diminished it was for that reason that they originally were held up. They would ravage the land and leave little and the same is true as they move - we saw it when we took the charm so perhaps we can still slow their tide if only for a little while.”
“Umm,” said Black Elk, “if such a thing were to slow them down then it would be worth the risk. And we can hold them here in this valley with just a few men. Do it - but not you Humming Bird; I want you to prepare yourself. Build a sweat lodge and go on a Vision Quest see if you can find out the meaning of that Totem you took from Leif Erikson.”
Humming Bird nodded with a sigh, she knew better than to resist Black Elk on such an important matter.
“Crazy Coyote and Yellow Hand, once more I must ask you to sli
p into the enemy village - you will have an idea of where they keep the food stuffs from your last visit. Red Cloud, you and Running Antelope take ten warriors and make the diversion they need. If any of you feel at any time you are falling into a trap, you escape at once. You had better set off before the moon rises and use the cover of the trees. Remember these Grey Beards are cunning - this whole celebration of theirs could be a trick.”
As they left Black Elk’s side he turned once more to face the enemy camp, his eyes glistening in the dark. Soon Crazy Coyote and Yellow Hand with their chosen few filed past and disappeared into the dark.
If only he could fathom what the enemy would do next…but then Black Elk wondered if they were thinking the same. He was now far from the prairie lands of his youth. His mind travelled to days past when his young son had died and how in her grief his wife had made the journey to meet him. He remembered how he had taken the vow to the sun and had completed the Sun Dance ceremony with great courage and vigour, one of the greatest experiences of his life. Black Elk had been through many a test of courage; even as a child he had shown great strength, when a friend had fallen into an icy lake, out of all the children there, it was he that had jumped in and pulled the child out. One of the tallest of his nation and broad too; a monument of a man, people often looked to him for advice as his wisdom matched his stature. The Shaman had named him father of his people long before his time. It would take all his wisdom to defeat the enemy but at that narrow point it might just be possible. Had the Sky People not taught them how best to use the club, spear, arrow and of course the tomahawk and long axe? They had been shown what resin to use to cover their shields so that they could now even deflect the blows of the enemy long knives. Their weapons had been covered with the same, surely then, if their courage held they could win the day. As he stood contemplating these things bats fluttered around catching whatever small insects wandered across their path. He could hear the call of the coyote, the hoot of a woodland owl, the rustle of leaves and slowly as he stood there, statuesque and silent, the moon rose high above.
“It is a breathless night,” Stone Crow had joined him, unnoticed in the dark.
“It is always so at this step of the season.”
“Even so, the air is thick with the stench of the enemy.”
“Their fires reach us, that is all. How do our people fare?” said Black Elk.
“Like any that feel that their lives maybe cut short they are preparing themselves, and at least when they fight they will not do so on empty stomachs.”
“Do you sense they are disheartened,” replied Black Elk.
“I did not say that. Though I do believe that they feel, like driftwood, that their path’s not their own.”
“Some of them, the younger ones, have not known a woman.”
“They all know Great Spirit and Turtle Island and knowing a woman is just a part of the whole, an important part as is birth and death. But they still might live to know the fabric of life.”
“You don’t really believe that, do you?” Stone Crow asked softly, casting his eyes at the enemy fires. “There are more to them than can be counted. More even than any nation I’ve seen - it is as though the whole world is against us.”
“All the better, for stories shall be sung that we were the measure of a mighty foe.”
“And who, Black Elk, will be left to sing such songs?”
“Together we shall, my friend, and so shall our enemies.”
“I am glad then that you are with us.”
“Why should we fear what the world has stored up for us?” replied Black Elk, “Are we not part of this world, and born to it? Are we not a part like the stone, the crow, the river that runs wild, are not all these things a part of us and us a part of them, so why should we fear the world? We may as well fear ourselves and why should we do that? As long as we are true to Great Spirit then we have nothing to fear from anyone or anything for that matter.”
“What of this Fenrir?” asked Stone Crow. “It is said he is not of this world.”
“Huh,” laughed Black Elk, “then we should send him back to whatever world he comes from, don’t you think? And remember all things are part of Great Spirit - even this Fenrir and the Wendigo, so I fear them not.”
“What do you fear, Black Elk?”
“That I do not die well. That I am left skulking in some shadowed land of my own making where age and frailty take my life because I did not honour my ancestors. I am the Father of my people and all the people here,” Black Elk gestured towards the First People, huddled together in small groups within the valley, “whether they are of my nation or not. For tomorrow we will be one nation and one people.”
Soon Redbone arrived with news that Humming Bird had entered the Vision Realm. Black Elk imperceptibly nodded; he turned to Stone Crow and asked if he would stand watch while he left to see how her quest was proceeding. There was something about that charm that had great value, or why else would the enemy be so eager to get it back? He walked past small fires that barely disturbed the night air. Bodies stood or sat silently staring into undying flames and each was mindful of the day ahead. Black Elk stopped to warm his hands by one. Eyes glistened; opposite him a young Hidatsa warrior stood lost in thought.
“The night’s not so bitter,” said Black Elk.
“Let us hope the day’s the same,” replied the young brave, his gaze seemingly drawn to the flames.
“Spring will soon be here, the air tastes different doesn’t it?” responded Black Elk with a warming smile.
“Not different enough, I fear there’s a shadow on the horizon - one that has followed us for a long time now.”
“Then,” said Black Elk, “perhaps we should be rid of it?”
“Or it us.” The young man had seen too few summers but still his brow was creased with age. “At least tomorrow we shall have our day.” He leant forwards and his haunted face came alive in the dark. “You see I’m tired of all this running.”
“So to am I,” cried Black Elk, and as he spoke others came to warm themselves by the fire and shed the chill they felt. “Tomorrow, let us teach them what it is to be counted among the nations of the First People. And let us all die as we have lived, with a passion for this life that they cannot hope to understand. And so should we not punish them for taking away something that is most loved by us? Our lives, the company we keep, the air we breathe, and if we are to meet our forefathers shall we not proudly tell them of such a day as is to come, with virtue in our hearts, truth on our tongues, that our lives ended well and were not a lie, that we died breathing free air, without fear or loathing for our fate and that though our enemy be strong our hearts are stronger still and let them burn with a fire that cannot die.”
The throng that had gathered rattled their spears against their shields with many a whoop and a cheer among them. With an assured smile, Black Elk stood broad and tall, his muscular arms loosely hanging at his side and as he left they watched his passing in awe. His thinking was now directed elsewhere, he needed to find out what Humming Bird had discovered - if anything.
As he entered the small sweat lodge, he saw Humming Bird in a trance-like state. There was a torch in one corner that offered some filtered light, which gave her a ghostly appearance as she lay there so still and outwardly lifeless, resting on top of a thick Buffalo Hide. A Shaman, Running Bird was by some heated stones that he would intermittently pour water over. In the gloom his thick headdress rose above him as if there were a thousand horns on his head. He chanted softly as he danced slowly round the stones, beating a small drum which he held.
Black Elk waited patiently for Running Bird to stop before gesturing for them to talk outside.
“Has she made a sound?” whispered Black Elk.
“There have been a few murmurings, strange even for this type of journey, there are specific words she keeps repeating - Seal and Power.”
At the mention of the word, Black Elk stiffened.
“Wake her,” said
Black Elk.
“But,” Running Bird’s voice faltered.
“At once, choose two people you can trust - I want her out of here now. There is a way out of this valley; at the back of the gorge there’s a small narrow path. Tell them to take her. The Grey Beards have not cut off our escape and with good reason - they are hoping that we might try to flee, they would prefer it if we fought in the open where their numbers would count but we shall not be so obliging. It is very important that she gets that Seal - if it is one - to the Sky People; they will know what to do with it.”
There was a call, a cry in the dark. It appeared the Shadow People were not waiting for dawn before they struck. Black Elk swivelled round immediately and leapt forward, drawing his Tomahawk as he ran; someone threw him a shield which he caught without breaking his stride. As he reached the entrance to the valley everyone was standing round shouting with rage and anger. Crazy Coyote and Yellow Hand had returned, their heads had been flung into the encampment with many others that had earlier left to fire the enemy camp. It was as Black Elk had feared - the enemy had been expecting such a foray.
The sky began to redden and outside the Valley of the Dead were long lines of the Shadow People. At their front were Haldrago and the Wendigo with Fenrir, his teeth dripping red with the blood of the innocent.
Black Elk stoically looked on, “Remove our brothers and place them among the honoured dead. Everyone, you know your places.”
The sun slowly rose. There were thousands upon thousands of Shadow People waiting to storm the Valley. Black Elk stood impassive as people filed to his side; until they filled the breach between the walls of the ridges, using their shields as a barrier, they waited.
In the distance there was the sound of a horn and all at once the tide was released upon them.
Humming Bird was swiftly being taken out of the valley, still dazed and unsteady after her long journey. As she reached the summit she turned to see Fenrir crash into Black Elk who thrust his shield into the creature’s midriff, knocking him to the floor. The beast, stunned for a moment, leapt to its feet and returned to the fight. One savage blow landed, knocking the shield away from Black Elk’s grasp. As he struck again Black Elk caught the blow in one powerful hand and with the other still holding his tomahawk landed a heavy blow.
“We must leave!” shouted Brown Calf.
With a shake of the head Humming Bird reeled round, desperate to help her people, but she was prevented from doing so and was grimly hauled away by one of her companions. Then the three disappeared over the ridge and were gone.
Valour of the Spirit People Page 23