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Authors: Janelle Taylor

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BOOK: Lakota Dawn
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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 rifles, 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 companions 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.”

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 traveled 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.

BOOK: Lakota Dawn
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