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Authors: Mike Blakely

Comanche Dawn (50 page)

BOOK: Comanche Dawn
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“My friend, Shaggy Hump, is wise. I will let Horseback speak.”

Echo rose next, though it was not his turn, and said, “I will not have Horseback speak for me!” But because he was wearing the paint of a Foolish One, the other councilors understood that he meant just the opposite.

One by one, the younger warriors swallowed the long talks they had rehearsed. The ones who held to the old ways of their grandfathers said the elders had already spoken for them. The young horsebacks said
Kiyu
would do their talking.

When finally he rose, Horseback's heart was good. From where he now stood, he could see two trails. The first trail would change the hearts of the elders and cause them to move the camp, making the people of the Icy-Water camp-together the first people of the Horse Nation. Should he fail in changing the hearts of the elders, the second path would lead him south with his new followers. They would break away from the camp-together and go to conquer new hunting grounds.

Horseback did not know which of these paths would be better for the Horse Nation of his Great Vision, but he trusted that his spirit-guide, Sound-the-Sun-Makes, knew well.

“I have listened to my elders,” he began, “and I grow wiser by their words. My elders have seen things I have not, and done things I never will.

“Yet, I have seen things my elders have not seen, and done things they will not do. I have been far to the south, across the River of Arrowheads, where no
Noomah
warrior ever went before. I have seen hairy-faced white warriors called Metal Men. I have seen them make spirits sing in iron. I have seen them pull pole-drags upon sacred hoops that roll on the ground. I have seen their Fire Sticks and their strange beasts and the shiny yellow metal they worship. This is not all I have seen.

“In the south, I have seen rich grasslands with buffalo that number like pine needles in a great forest that takes one hundred sleeps to cross. Antelope run like flocks of ducks flying in the autumn sky. A blind man could hunt the elk and the lesser bear in the river timber, for he must only listen to hear them pass. There is more meat than my elders have ever seen and plenty of fruit and other good things for our women to gather.

“Also, I have seen a great vision. When my medicine went bad and the dark shadow of my protector fell on me, the Metal Men captured me to torture to death. My father and my friends rescued me from this shame. You have seen the torture scars on my back. My wife has begun to tattoo these scars so no one will forget about the danger of the Metal Men. When I was sick from my torture, the spirits gave me a Great Vision. In this vision, I saw a new Horse Nation moving south from the land of the True Humans. The nation will move upon the backs of ponies. It was a nation in the mist of tomorrow, yet I know that it will come out into the sun.”

Horseback stood long enough to let his breath catch up to his words, thinking about what he planned to say next.

“My elders speak of the old times. I remember some of these old times. I remember hiding from the Northern Raiders. Now, our warriors attack the Northern Raiders and take scalps, and slaves, and ponies. We must continue to take the ponies of our enemies, for the ponies make us strong in battle, and will make our enemies strong if we let them keep the ponies.

“Blue Butte has spoken of his bravery in battle. He will stand with his moccasins on the ground to feel the power of Mother Earth. That is good. But I feel the power of my pony between my legs, and my pony feels the power of Mother Earth through four legs. The way of the horsebacks is also good.

“When I was a boy, I remember starving through the Time When Babies Cry for Food. We have not known times that bad since our ponies began to number as many as our lodges, for now we can search more country, find more food, and move more quickly to make meat. The pony is better than the dog. The dog eats meat. The pony makes meat. Our ponies have made us richer, but still our land is poor. It is a good and sacred land, washed in the blood of our grandfathers, but it is a poor land. The land to the south is rich. There, we will not have to move our camp so much to find grass for our ponies, for the grass grows like hair on a dog. And we will have no need to move often. There is food everywhere.”

Horseback thought it well that he could smell meat roasting on the cook fires just as he spoke of food. The men had been in council long enough to grow hungry.

“The wisdom of the ancient ones, great-grandfathers of our great-grandfathers, lives on in the lodges of our storytellers. By this sacred passing of truths from one generation to the next, we have held many things in our hearts that our ancestors learned before us.

“The keepers of this wisdom remember that in ancient times, a war arose between the
Noomah
and the
Na-vohnuh.
Our ancestors fought bravely, but the
Na-vohnuh
numbered ten to our ancestors' one. To escape destruction to the last warrior, our ancestors moved the True Humans to this country … this poor country … this hard country. It is a sacred country, for it has preserved the seed of the
Noomah.
Sometimes the spirits bless this country with rain and meat, and it is good for a while. But then it is poor again. The
Na-vohnuh
pushed our ancestors into this country to become surrounded by enemies: Crows, Northern Raiders,
Yutas,
and Wolf People. But now we have ponies. Ponies!

“By the light of Father Sun, Sister Moon, and all the star-spirits, it is true what the
puhakuts
have prophesied from ancient times, that the
Noomah
and the
Na-vohnuh
would one day meet again to make war, for I have drawn
Na-vohnuh
blood myself on the River of Arrowheads. As the storytellers have said, they are horrible people, stinking of
kwitapuh
and crawling with vermin. They hold the good lands in the south. They number many, but they are weaker than our horsebacks, for they do not know the hearts of their ponies. In my great vision, I see a horse nation of True Humans avenging the souls of our ancestors. We will chase the
Na-vohnuh
out of the good country in the south, and win wealth beyond the hopes of the richest warrior.

“I have seen great visions. I have survived the dangerous shadow of bright powerful medicine. I have prayed for wisdom and courage.

“The grass is all gone from this camp at Icy-Water. Those who have horses must move to keep them fed. The new trail goes south. We have made peace with the
Yutas
and will go along the borders of their country for safety. We will fight any nation that rises in our path. We will honor and avenge the True Humans who have gone before us to the Shadow Land, and conquer a good country for those not yet born.”

He changed his weight from one foot to the other, and thought in silence for a long moment to make sure he had not forgotten to say something.

“On the day of my birth,” he continued, “First Horse circled my lodge—a gift from the Shadow Land, but only for the brave! Those who master the ways of the four-legged spirit-gift will die with stomachs full of buffalo meat and other good things. Those who do not…”

Suddenly, Horseback heard the warnings of spirit-talk in his heart. It was not wise to say, as he had planned, that the foot-warriors would die with empty stomachs, or stomachs only half-full of bad things like snakes and grasshoppers. This would insult the foot-warriors and make him a prophet of bad things to come.

“Wait,” he said, putting his hand over his heart. “I must listen.”

He sat down to hear the voices of the spirits. The moon appeared above the hides covering the lower part of the lodge poles, and still Horseback did not speak. A branch in the council fire crumbled to coals, then turned to ash. A wolf howled seven times in the mountains. The moon moved across the open top of the council lodge. Still Horseback remained silent, and all the councilors waited.

Finally, he rose to speak again. “Those who master the ways of the four-legged spirit-gift will die with stomachs full of buffalo meat and other good things. But, those True Humans who choose not to go with the Horse Nation will remain sacred in the heart of the Great Creator, and when the Horse Nation goes out, there will be more food in this country for those who remain behind, for many will go out. It is good. The spirits have decided what will happen. I have spoken.”

The elders lighted the pipe again, and passed it. Blue Butte took some time rising to his feet, for he was old, and his joints pained him. “We have called this council to speak about moving our camp. Many have said we should stay. Some have said we must move. We have not made one choice. Maybe this camp-together is too large. It is good to see so many friends, but it is also good to follow different paths. Long ago the spirits made many bands of True Humans for many reasons. Maybe now, the spirits have made a band of horse-warriors who will make a new path under the hooves of their ponies.

“Listen, all of you young horsebacks. Your young leader,
Kiyu,
has power, but he misinterprets his vision. It is not a new nation he sees riding south. It is a nation of brothers, as our ancestors, Wolf and Coyote, were brothers, yet they are now different. You were born
Noomah,
my grandsons, and so you will remain as long as your blood runs and your hearts beat.

“We have not chosen to stay or to move, but until we meet again in council, we will stay here. Not because we have agreed to stay, but because we have not agreed to move. This is the way of the council. It is also the way for those who do not agree with the council of one band to go out to another band. The wisdom of our ancestors makes a place for every man. If the young horsebacks go to seek a place for their own band, that is good. Perhaps next time a great camp-together meets in this sacred place, and the people smoke and speak, they will agree. Now, we are hungry. Let us all fill our stomachs, as
Kiyu
has prophesied. This is the way of the council. I have spoken.”

The men filed out of the lodge, and immediately women began to take it apart. Horseback could see that some of the people were sad. It was plain that the horsebacks would ride out and make a new brother nation. This was good, but it made some people sad who would have to see their friends ride away.

Echo came to Horseback, but walked around behind him to speak, in a foolish way. “We must kill a bull and make your rattle from the scrotum. Now, my friend, you are going to be a Foolish One.”

Horseback turned around and found himself looking at the back of Echo's head. “
Hah.
I only hope I am wise enough to become as foolish as you.”

That night, the people held a dance. The drums and the songs and the leaping shadows made Horseback happy. During the height of the favorite dance of the Burnt Meat People, Whip whirled into the brightest light of the fire, trying to dance harder than all the other warriors, for he was vain. He tossed one long braid over his shoulder as he whirled, and the end of the braid flew off and landed on the ground. The people laughed like crazy. Whip picked up his tresses and stalked away to his lodge.

47

“They are horrible two-leggeds,”
Shaggy Hump said. “I cannot call them people, just two-leggeds.”

“Do they torture?” Whip asked.

They rode eastward across the vast rolling grasslands, beyond sight of the big mountains of
Yuta
country—six horse-warriors, all painted and armed with killing tools, except for the Foolish Ones, who only carried their rattles and quirts for counting battle strokes. The day was warm, and their topknot feathers jerked like nervous birds in the wind.

“Oobia, hah!”
Shaggy Hump replied. “How the Wolf People love to torture! There was a Wolf woman among the Wild Sage People many winters ago. She has since died, but she was of Wolf People blood, though a
Noomah
warrior had captured her and made her good. She knew the ways of torturing like the Wolf People.”

“Who did she torture? How?” Whip asked, leaning anxiously toward the older warrior.

“It happened only once, for you know it is hard to catch an enemy alive for torture. But, once, the Wild Sage People found three Crow warriors hunting in our country. Two were killed, and the third was hit in the head with a
pogamoggan.
While this wounded Crow floated under the pass to the Shadow Land, the
Noomah
warriors tied him up,
tsah!
Then they brought him back to the camp for the Wolf woman to torture.”

“What torture did she use?” Whip prodded.

“She staked the Crow warrior out, arms and legs, tight, like this.” Shaggy Hump spread his arms and legs, making his pony take a nervous leap forward. “The Wild Sage People had been attacked by the Crow two winters before, and the Wolf woman's son killed. She was very angry. So, first, she heaped coals on that Crow's hands and feet and listened until he could scream no longer. Then she cut off a hand, above the burn, to make it hurt again, and heaped more coals to stop the blood so the Crow would not bleed to death. Bleeding to death would go too fast. They say that Crow started screaming again. Then, the other hand, same way. Then a foot. Then, another foot.”

Trotter put his hand over his ears. “
Anah!
I do not want to hear it!”

Shaggy Hump grabbed Trotter's wrist and pulled his hand away from his ear. “Hear it! Now you know why I will not leave you on the battlefield today, floating under the pass to the Shadow Land. I will die in the fight before I let them catch you and torture you. And you will do the same for me. That is the way. That Wolf woman with the Wild Sage People kept cutting and burning until that Crow had no arms or legs, and still he lived. Do you wish to go to the Shadow Land like that?”

“No,” Trotter said.

“Then you will fight like crazy. The Wolf People are horrible. They shave almost all the hair off their heads. Ugly! If you see one with a hand painted on his chest, watch out. That one has killed hand to hand. They are dangerous.”

BOOK: Comanche Dawn
11.98Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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