Child of the Dead (22 page)

The Northern band, traditionally one of the two strongest, ranged as far north as the river the French now called the Platte. They wintered farther south, of course, often in the valley of the Kenzas. Her own, the Southern band, was probably the closest to where she had wintered with the girl.

While all of this knowledge would seem to be of little help, it was invaluable to Running Deer. She did not even think about such basic facts. They were just there. The fact that all of the scattered bands would assemble annually in the Moon of Roses was assumed. The site was selected each year for the next celebration.
Aiee
, she thought.
I should have been giving attention when the Council was talking of it
. It was a bit embarrassing to remember how ridiculous her attitude had been. She must have caused much pain for her sons and their families.

But back to the present with its own problems … She knew that the gathering place would be somewhere in the middle, where no one band would face the hardship of extra long travel. Usually the two western bands complained anyway, but if they chose to live in the shadow of the mountains, so be it. Sometimes the People decided to humor them, and held the Sun Dance farther west. They had done that only two years ago, so probably that would not be the case this season. Besides, she would remember, would she not? There would have been much talk and the Eastern band would have complained bitterly at the long trip that they would have to make.

So, Deer had concluded, the site would probably be fairly central, maybe in the Sacred Hills. And in all her lifetime, there were no more than ten sites where the Sun Dance had been held in that general area. It required special facilities. Plenty of good water, enough level space for the scores of lodges, and grass enough for the hundreds of horses that the People possessed. Fuel was less of a problem. The prairie would be littered with thousands of dry buffalo chips from last season’s migration of the great herds.

But which of the sites that the People used would it be? She could not guess, but there would be ways to find out.

“We will start north,” she explained to Gray Mouse. “Maybe northwest, a little. We know that much. Then we will ask as we travel. The Growers will have news.”

Along most of the rivers of the prairie country there were villages of people who raised crops. By virtue of
their way of life, they were usually peaceful. Crops are vulnerable to destruction by an enemy, and difficult to defend. How can one prevent the burning of a field of grain if there are those who would want to destroy it? It was easier and safer, usually, to trade with all comers, but become allied with none. So the various farming tribes had a great tendency to remain neutral as their nomadic neighbors carried on widespread hunting and warfare.

The People, even knowing that there were many different tribes whose main activity was farming, had adopted the term Growers to include them all. There were exceptions. Pawnees, aggressive and warlike, were to be avoided. But they were farther north, Running Deer knew. She might encounter Kenzas or Wichitas, but no matter. Any of them would probably answer questions, especially if she had a small gift of dried meat.

Yes, they could follow the old trails that crisscrossed the prairie, and head generally northward, asking as they went. There were places where travelers had camped before, probably for generations. A source of water and fuel was all that would be needed by a small party. These traditional stopping places would be found about a day’s travel apart. Sometimes they would be located next to a cluster of Growers’ lodges. It was in that way she could gain news of the People.

It was the third day before they saw another human. The day was late, and she was glad to see a plume of evening smoke ahead. It had been a long time since she had spoken to another adult. A Grower village, maybe? No, only one smoke. The camp of another traveler?

She could see the couple as they approached, the man seated and smoking. The woman was tossing a couple of sticks and a buffalo chip on the fire. Packs were piled nearby, and a horse grazed beyond.

Running Deer strode in boldly, making the sign for peaceful greeting. Her next sign was that of identification.

“I am of the Elk-dog People.”

The man looked her over, nodded, and gave the sign
for trader. That could be either his occupation or his nationality.

“Arapaho?” Deer asked aloud.

The man nodded and drew a pipeful of smoke into his mouth.

“How are you called?” asked the woman in the tongue of the People.

“Ah! You speak my tongue!” Deer answered. “I am Running Deer. This, my daughter Gray Mouse.”

“Yes, we speak many tongues,” the trader’s wife said … “
Daughter?”

“Well, granddaughter. Her parents died with the
poch
.”

“
Aiee
, it has been bad,” the woman agreed. “Your people …”

“
My
people?” Deer interrupted. “
They
have the
poch?”

“How is it that you do not know?” the woman demanded. “What is this?”

Quickly, Running Deer explained.

“Ah, I see,” the other answered, her suspicion subsiding. “My heart is heavy to tell you then. Your people were hard hit, last season,”

“All bands?”

“That I cannot say. The Southern band the hardest, though. I remember that.”

Running Deer’s heart: sank. She wished now that she had been with them. It could have been no worse. But
how?
Could her sons have carried the sickness back when they brought her the buffalo meat? If they did, then
they
must have fallen sick … maybe, dead.

“Do you remember any names?” she asked eagerly. “Singing Wolf? Beaver Track?”

“Ah, Mother, I do not know. We did not see them, we only heard of the sickness, you know.”

“Do you know where they will have the Sun Dance?”

“No, no. Or
whether
they will have it. But tell me, Mother … Do you not fear to travel alone?”

Running Deer shrugged. “What is to fear? What can happen to an old woman that has not happened already?”

“But you might be killed by someone.”

Deer laughed, a sardonic chuckle. “Why? I have nothing worth killing for. And there is no honor in killing an old woman.”

“That is true. But you have the girl there … Would you sell her? She will make a good wife someday. She is pretty.”

Deer tried not to appear as offended as she actually was.

“No, no. She is mine. To take her, one would
have
to kill me.”

“See? It is as I said. I only offered …”

“No!”

The subject did not come up again. They camped together, exchanged small talk and provisions and comments on the weather. It was good to talk to adults, despite the haunting fears about what might have happened to the People. And, of course, the unfortunate remark about the child. But maybe the woman
did
only intend to be helpful.

Deer slept little, but by morning was convinced that there had really been no evil intent.

As they parted, the trader asked yet another question that bothered her.

“What about the dog? Would you trade him? He looks strong.”

Deer thanked him, but refused.
Aiee! A trader must trade anything
, she supposed.

Gray Mouse clung to her hand as they watched the couple and their laden pack: horse move on down the trail.

“Grandmother, you would not trade Yellow Dog to them?”

“Of course not, child. Nor you, either!”

Mouse relaxed.

Then another thought came to Running Deer. “Wait!” she called. “Are there Growers ahead?”

“Yes,” the woman called back. “Two sleeps. A big village. They are friendly.”

“It is good,” Running Deer answered. “May your travel go well and your trading prosper.”

It was good to know about the Growers. Maybe they would have some news of the People. She picked up her pack and they traveled on.

“W
e have not seen them,” the Grower said. “A Head Splitter … are they not your allies? Yes, so I thought. One of them told us that he planned to attend your Sun Dance. Where is it to be, Mother?”

“Ah, that is what I do not know. But they
will
have it?”

“So the Head Splitter said. But I do not know whether he knew.”

“And you do not know whether all of my people, all bands, had the spotted sickness?”

He shook his head. “I do not know one band of your people from another. We see mostly your Southern band, is it not?”

“Yes. They were to winter on the river we call the Sycamore.”

“Ah, yes,
those
. They wintered there, we were told. Someone … the Head Splitter … No! A trader … A trader told us that your Elk-dog People had been hit hard by the
poch
. My heart is heavy for you, Mother.”

Aiee, Growers!
thought Running Deer.
If they know the answer to your questions, they tell you. If they do not, they tell you anyway
.

“Then you do not know where they will hold the Sun Dance?” she asked.

“No … no, I am made to think not.”

The little party moved on, still heading north.
Maybe if she could be in familiar territory, the Sacred Hills, their spirit would help her.

They had gone only a little way when there was an odd, short bark from Yellow Dog. He had stopped and was looking along their back trail.

“Someone is following us,” said Gray Mouse.

“Let us stop to rest,” Deer suggested. “We can sit in the rocks over there.”

It was a puzzling thing, a lone rider. Not too skilled a rider … He was sitting too far back and bouncing a lot, Deer noted. A Grower? She readied her weapon. In a situation that makes no sense, it is wise to prepare for the worst. She tried to appear casual, but to be alert for anything.

It was the Grower to whom they had talked. He drew the horse to a stop and sat there for a moment, breathing heavily from the unfamiliar exercise.

“You do not need the bow, Mother,” he said with a chuckle. “It is only that I have learned … My wife thought of something you should know. The Head Splitter I spoke of, you remember? His woman and mine talked. She says the woman told her of your Sun Dance. It is to be at Medicine Rock.”

“Ah!” Deer exclaimed with glee. “It is good! I should have known, but I had forgotten. May your crops grow well, Uncle!”

The man turned back toward his town, and the heart of Running Deer warmed toward Growers. It had been a kind gesture. Maybe Growers were much like real people. At least sometimes.

Medicine Rock! This was one of the most powerful of the spirit-places of the People, and of their allies the Head Splitters as well. Gray limestone, a sheer bluff that dropped off into the river below. There were crevices and caves in its face, and the past of the People had been deeply influenced by the events there. The legends and stories of strange happenings were many.

Eagle, father of the legendary warrior woman Running Eagle, had wintered there, it was said. He had been injured and was thought to be dead. Eagle had never been quite the same, but was noted ever after as a man of the spirit. One who understood …

It was at Medicine Rock that the People and the Head Splitters had become allies, to defeat a more powerful enemy. The magical powers of the place and the combined powers of holy men of both nations had helped them to stampede a great buffalo herd over the bluff, pushing the enemy Blue Paints to their deaths. It was said that bleached bones of buffalo, horses, and men could still be seen in the deep crevices.

White Fox, a kinsman of Walks in the Sun, had taken his vision quest there, and had encountered spirits that seemed threatening and evil. He had also discovered a strange wild girl who had been unable to speak except in animal sounds. She had become his wife, and a respected woman of the People.

Medicine Rock was feared by some as a place of evil. The usual attitude of the holy men of the People was that it was a place of great spiritual power. Neither good nor evil, or maybe both. To some, there might be evil there, to others, not. The ways of the spirit are strange, and it may depend much on what one
seeks
, no?

The Sun Dance had been held at Medicine Rock before. Running Deer could remember twice … maybe three times in her lifetime. The most recent had been ten or twelve seasons back. It was considered a special site. To be perfectly accurate, the Sun Dance was not actually at the Rock itself, but within sight of it. It was actually forbidden by the Big Council to climb the bluff or to approach it too closely while the People were camped there. It would not be good to disturb the spirits that dwell there. Any who chose to risk that danger could stay behind when the People moved out. Then their vision quest or prayer or communion with the spirits would plainly be a personal act, and would not reflect on the entire Elk-dog nation.

It was seldom that anyone did stay behind. It was left to the occasional young holy man on his vision quest, or an older one seeking to understand more of the power of his gifts. The spirits of Medicine Rock were very powerful. It was said that the vision quest of White Fox had been a terrifying ordeal. Walks in the Sun had considered, however, that part of that may have been due to the interference of the evil that had hovered over
the wild girl, South Wind.
No matter
, Deer thought.
I will not go near the place!