Song Of The Warrior (17 page)

“What is it, my love?”

“There are troops coming.”

She felt her heart sink. He must have seen her expression in the firelight, because he said, “There's no reason you must stay. You could ride into that town, tell them you've been held captive—”

“That's not true!” she protested. “That would cause you much trouble—”

“But it would protect you,” Bear said. “Then you could still return to the fort and marry Lieutenant Warton with the Reverend Harlow's blessings.”

“Don't even talk like that.” She was angry with him and heartsick over the way things were going.

“Willow, it isn't going to be easy from here on out; I can feel it in my bones. I'd like you to be safe—”

“I am Nez Perce.” She drew herself up proudly. “I would not flee like a frightened rabbit while other women and children stay here to face the bluecoats.”

He reached and put the tip of his finger under her chin, turned her face up so he could stare into her eyes a long moment. “My green-eyed woman,” he whispered. “All this time, I have thought that in your heart, if it came time to prove it, you would go with your white heritage.”

“So now you know.” She smiled up at him and put her hand on his big one.

He hesitated. “Something else . . .”

She waited. “What is it?”

“Now that we may be going to war, it is bad
wyakin
, bad medicine for a brave on the war trail to sleep with a woman; it is one of our taboos.”

The thought of not making love to him was devastating to her. She hadn't realized how much she had grown to like those hot, passionate nights in his arms. “Are you telling me you will not make love to me?”

“It is harder on me than you,” he said. “You are like a magic thing; I think of nothing but your kisses and your soft body when I am not with you. A warrior must keep his mind on his fighting and you would drain my power. It is the Nez Perce custom.”

She nodded soberly. “I understand. Very well, then, we will not make love again until this has all been decided and we are safe and free.”

“Besides, you may already be making a son for me.” He smiled and reached to brush a wisp of hair from her face.

The thought cheered her. “I would like that. Only one thing would make me happier; for you and your brother to become friends again.”

Bear looked regretful as he stared into the coming night. “I hope Raven will get over this and we will once more be friends.”

She nodded and returned to preparing food. The camp was settling down for the night. Here and there, a dog barked or a horse snorted, but mostly, besides the summer insects on a warm June night, it was quiet. “When do the warriors think the troops will get here?”

Bear shrugged. “They have been riding too long. If they have any sense, they will stop and rest their horses and their men overnight. If they do that, the soldiers will be here sometime maybe when the sun is past midday tomorrow. By that time, we will be across the Salmon River and gone.”

“In that case,” Willow said, “you need rest, too.”

They ate and went to their lodge, but Bear took his blanket and laid down on the other side of the tipi. He must not make love to her, Willow thought in resignation, but she lay awake with tears in her eyes long after she heard his gentle breathing. She yearned to cross that space, crawl into his arms, at least get him to kiss and embrace her. Would they be able to stop at that? Just thinking of the taste of his kisses made her pulse quicken. Oh, she dare not risk destroying his
wyakin.
If he were killed in battle because she had brought him bad luck, she wouldn't be able to live with herself. She loved him so much.

She thought of Raven, estranged from his brother and staying now with his friends. It would be sad if one of the brothers was killed in battle before they made their peace. The survivor would not be able to live with himself. Somehow, she would help them mend this rift. Eventually, maybe Raven would find another woman he could love and forget about Willow.

It was a long time before she dozed off and then she dreamed that she was in Bear's arms, safe and warm while he kissed her, stroked her body, and made passionate love to her. She dreamed she was making him a baby and how proud he was of her swelling belly. Yes, it would all work out so well. Willow dreamed that it was morning and they were packing their lodge, moving out before the soldiers came. It would be such a joke on the soldiers when they came to White Bird Canyon, all ready to fight and discovered the Nez Perce were gone.

A coyote howled. Now why would a coyote be howling in broad daylight as the Nez Perce happily packed up their camp?

It howled again. The bright, happy dream began to fade from her mind, though she struggled to hang onto it. It was the fault of that damned coyote; why did it howl? It made no sense . . . no sense. . . .

She came awake with a start, sat bolt upright in her blankets, and glanced around. It was still night, but across the tipi, Bear's blankets were empty. In the darkness, the faint howl of a coyote echoed. A coyote call; a scout's signal. Oh, no.

Before she could move, Bear came into the lodge, reaching for his lance and shield. “The scouts report in. The soldiers rode all night.”

She wanted to scream and cry, but she could only stare up at him a long moment as the reality sunk in. “We-we'll have to fight?”

He nodded, still gathering up his weapons. His face was taunt, grim. “See what you can do to help with the children. We hope to fight them up in the canyon, keep them from ever reaching this camp.”

Willow came to her feet, hearing the shouts and confusion outside as the warriors prepared to ride out. In her mind, she saw burning tipis and screaming women running in panic. “And if you fail?”

His face mirrored tragic reality in the firelight. “If we fail, the bluecoats will hit this camp about dawn!”

“Damn you, put out that pipe!” Deek Tanner snarled as he reached to knock it from Lieutenant Warton's hand.

“Why, you dirty white trash—”

“Hush!” Deek whispered. “Shut up and listen!”

A coyote howled on a nearby ridge and Deek shivered though the night was warm. No animal had made that sound.

Now the callow young officer reined in his horse next to Deek, listening. In fact, the whole cavalry column had paused, its sweating, weary horses jingling their bridles, stamping their hooves. The slump-shouldered men looked so tired, they were almost reeling in their saddles. Everyone had paused in the darkness to listen.

The lieutenant leaned over to Deek. “I don't suppose that's really—?”

“Of course not!” Deek swore again. “Now you've gone and done it!”

In the moonlight, the officer's baby face paled. “I forgot you said no smoking; no matches.”

“You forgot!” Deek bit off a chaw of tobacco in disgust. “I warned everybody them Nez Perce lookouts would see a flicker of fire, no matter how small. Reckon they smelled the scent of tobacco, too.”

How in the hell had he got hisself in a partnership with this sniveling little whelp? Billy Warton was liable to get the whole troop killed; possibly before they ever found the secret of the Nez Perce treasure. Deek decided right then and there, that if the Injuns didn't get Billy, Deek would kill him himself, once he didn't need him anymore. Deek had been raised by the Blackfeet and learned fast that to survive, a man looked out for himself and no one else.

The coyote call came again. Deek felt the sweat running down his hairy back as he pictured those braves lying out there in the brush, watching the column. There'd be no chance of surprise now. If he had any sense, he'd skedaddle and let this bunch of greenhorns ride in alone. 'Course, the Nez Perce were pretty peaceable and Captain Perry had a sizable force, what with the Injun scouts and the settler volunteers they'd picked up along the way.

Billy Warton wiped sweat from his weak chin. “Deek, you really think they're out there?”

Deek snorted and spat tobacco juice. “I
know
they're out there. Now hush up a'fore your blabber draws them in on us like flies on a dead mule.”

It would be dawn soon, Deek thought and the column was descending now into White Bird Canyon, the drainage system for White Bird Creek. The canyon extended maybe ten miles or so toward the southwest where the creek emptied into the Salmon River.

Deek stayed alert, watching the shadowy ridges that sloped toward the creek. This valley was a great place for an ambush. The peaceable Nez Perce interpreters and Shoshoni Injun scouts were as aware of that fact as he was, Deek thought as he scratched his dirty beard. He could see some of them in the moonlight; the way they kept looking around. The white soldiers hadn't had much sleep in the past forty-eight hours and not much food, either, so they were dozing in their saddles. If there hadn't been men riding behind him on the trail, blamed if Deek wouldn't have turned and ridden out. As it was, his Blackfoot upbringing would save his scalp, maybe. The coyote that wasn't a coyote howled again, and somewhere in the predawn darkness, another answered the first and the faint howl echoed across the hills.

No treasure would do him any good if he got killed for it, Deek thought, watching Ad Chapman, one of the civilian volunteers up ahead. Ad wore a white hat and it gleamed in the coming gray dawn. That would make one helluva target; the man must be stupid or loco. Deek shrugged his big shoulders. It didn't make him no never mind.

Word came back along the column to halt and for Lieutenant Warton and Deek to join the captain up front. Billy's expression looked as if he was about to puke. Yellow kid, Deek thought with disgust; too afraid to fight. He spat contemptuously and the two of them rode forward.

The captain wasn't very old himself, Deek thought as they reined in next to him.

“Lieutenant, there's seems to be a small group of Indians coming over that distant ridge; I'd swear they're carrying a white flag.”

Billy stood up in his stirrups and peered into the lavender gray of the coming dawn. “You may be right, sir.”

“I'm going to send a little group out to parlay with them,” Captain Perry said.

There was a long moment of silence. The officer was evidently waiting for volunteers. Billy's handsome face had turned pale as a dead frog's belly.

Ad Chapman, nearby, said, “I'll go.”

A couple of soldiers and an interpreter offered to go, too.

Deek leaned on his saddle horn and licked his yellow teeth. He wasn't about to ride out there with a man presenting a big target with that white hat like Ad Chapman. “I'll provide cover,” he said, “in case it's a red-skinned trick.”

“Now,” the captain admonished, “remember, we aren't here to start a major Indian war; our orders are to try to get the Nez Perce back to the reservation.”

Deek Tanner looked at the young officer with scorn. “Captain, they done started the war; but we may have to finish it.” He grinned and reached for his rifle. He carried an old-fashioned buffalo gun; a Sharps rifle. When a man took a hit from a Big Fifty, it left a hole big enough to put your fist through. He hoped the Nez Perce did try something; Deek hadn't killed a man in a long time.

 

 

Bear reined in his mount in the shadowy grove of trees on the other side of the ridge; the white rag tied to his lance flapped gently in the dawn breeze. He looked around at the half-dozen warriors with him, including Raven and Chief Joseph. “You are certain this is what you want?”

The chief nodded, his face grave. “Even though my heart rebels, I know it will be better for my people if we do not fight the Pony Soldiers. We have few warriors, but many women, old ones and children.”

“We will parlay then,” Bear said, “but I do not trust them to keep their word.”

“We can hope,” Joseph answered. “If not, we have our other men positioned and we have the advantage with these high ridges.”

Bear nodded and reined his great horse around toward the soldiers in the distance. Joseph returned to join Ollokot in placing warriors in strategic positions should this attempt fail. Bear glanced over at Raven who looked a little drunk, but proud to have been asked to accompany the truce flag. He will yet one day be a man to be proud of, Bear thought. “Ride next to me, Raven.”

Raven squared his shoulders and fell in next to Bear as the two rode out toward the cavalry. “There have been things left unsaid between us. . . .”

“I know, but deep in our hearts, we are brothers; always remember that.”

“I am proud you chose me to go,” Raven said. “If I should be killed—”

“It is bad luck to speak like that,” Bear said sharply.

“It is only that I want to make things right. Sometimes people die and many things are left unsaid.”

Bear nodded. “Say no more; I understand.”

In the pale purple of the coming dawn, the little group of warriors rode out, the breeze flapping the white truce flag above Bear's head as the hazy fog rose up off the valley. It felt good to have his brother riding at his side, to know he had a woman who loved him as he loved her. Somehow, there had to be a way for them to live in peace and freedom. He wanted nothing more than that. Behind him as they rode, he heard one of the other braves beginning to sing his warrior's song very softly so that if he were to be killed today, it would not be left unsung. Bear wasn't yet ready to concede that this attempt to parlay might fail.

The breeze came up with the dawn and he wondered if it were the
hattia tinukin
, the death wind, coming to carry some of their spirits away. He glanced back at Chief Joseph, riding among his warriors as they prepared for the worst. There might not be many of them, but the location on the high ground gave the Nez Perce the advantage.

Up ahead, he saw a couple of soldiers waiting, a man in a big white hat, that bearded scout that Raven had tangled with that day in town. Even as the Nez Perce rode closer, Bear saw the sudden movement as the scout reached for his rifle. The bullet sang past his head and he shouted for the warriors to defend themselves. They scattered, even as he saw Raven put his rifle to his shoulder on his dancing, nervous horse and fire, knocking the white hat off the big man, who promptly bolted for the rear.

“Warriors, take cover!” Bear shouted and threw down the truce flag even as he raised his own gun. The soldier bugler abruptly blew his horn, the sound sharp and shrill, echoing through the valley. Bear acted instinctively. He knew the soldiers would follow the sound of that bugle. He aimed as the bugle sounded again. The sound broke off in midnote and the man tumbled from his horse. Now the soldier chief would have a difficult time directing his men. With satisfaction, Bear rode his stallion behind some rocks that protected them both and reached for his cartridges.

Raven was slightly drunk, he thought suddenly as he watched his brother's rearing horse dance about. There'd been whiskey at that last trader's they had burned out. “Raven! Over here!”

His brother looked around as if bewildered, then galloped his horse behind the rocks and slid off. Bear tossed him his spare rifle and peered over the top of the boulder.

The soldiers milled in confusion and on the southern part of the ridge they occupied, there was little cover in the way of rocks or shrubs. Bear aimed and picked off a civilian. The Nez Perce had good cover and the advantage of the ridge. The white civilians and the young, green soldiers seemed terrified, confused. Only the Shoshoni scouts, old enemies of the Nez Perce, were fighting like seasoned men.

Below Bear, soldiers shouted in panic as one or another was hit, horses reared and neighed. The thunder of shots seemed to echo and reecho down the canyon. Men screamed in mortal pain and many panicked, attempting to retreat. The early morning sun reflected off the captain's shoulder bars as he tried to rally his men, but the lack of a bugler to sound commands, the smoke and screams and scent of blood sent men scrambling to save themselves.

Bear got just a glimpse of Lieutenant Warton's handsome face as he retreated down the valley, saw the bearded, ugly scout duck behind a boulder, but he was out of range. The valiant captain was still attempting to rally his men, but as part of them retreated, the panic spread and some of the white volunteers turned and fled. Bear's heart beat faster with excitement as he waved to the warrior on a cliff. The lookout waved a red blanket, signaling the Nez Perce to press the attack. Bear mounted his stallion, and with a yell, he led the braves to harry the flanks of the retreating troops.

 

 

Willow, against Bear's orders, had followed the truce party out to watch the happenings from the safety of the rocks. Now she watched with mixed emotions as the battle began. Below her, men were clutching their chests and falling, mortally wounded. Horses reared and galloped away at the scent of blood and gunpowder. Why, there was Billy Warton and that scout, Deek Tanner! Without thinking, she stood up to get a better look. A bullet sang past her head and she remembered and ducked back behind the rocks. Peeking over the edge, she watched the victorious Nez Perce pursuing the panicked soldiers and civilians back up the trail. She wished she could feel pleased, but all she could think of as she saw the blue-clad bodies sprawled in the distant brush was that somewhere tonight, women would mourn as women always did when their men were killed.

Abruptly, Bear was galloping back toward her. “You little fool!” He reached to lift her up on the stallion before him. “You could have been killed!”

She wasn't afraid; not when she was safe in Bear's strong arms. Willow sighed with relief. “Where's Raven?”

He nodded back over his shoulder and grinned. “I think he's harrying the soldiers all the way back to that town.” His chest seemed to swell with pride as he nudged his stallion into a lope down the ridge.

“What will happen now?” Willow leaned against his chest as they rode.

“Nothing good, I fear.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “At least, now our men will be better armed; they are picking up the weapons and cartridges from the dead soldiers. Joseph will want to call a meeting of his warriors to make plans.”

Willow closed her mind to the grim hardness of his voice. For whatever time they might have left, she would savor every moment with her man. It was only tragic that they could not find solace in their lovemaking because of the taboo. Perhaps soon, the Nez Perce would at least find a safe haven where they could live and love in peace.

 

 

Even Raven swaggered a little when the warriors gathered back in camp to assess the battle. In the ambush, the warriors had wiped out almost one-third of the troops and white volunteers and chased the survivors many miles while the whites fled like panicked rabbits. Five Wounds said that one of the dead men was young and wore a lieutenant's insignia on his blue uniform. Now he would be forever young and sleep for eternity in the dirt of White Bird Canyon.

Bear drew a sigh of relief when he heard these words. He had seen the way Billy Warton had looked at Willow and Bear feared for her as long as Warton lived. With the young lieutenant dead, that was one less problem for Bear to worry about.

The Nez Perce had lost no men and only a couple had been wounded. In addition, Joseph's men had captured a couple of treaty Nez Perce interpreters who promptly brought Joseph and Ollokot up to date on every move the soldiers had planned. Besides that, the braves had picked up many weapons and extra ammunition, both from the dead soldiers and those who fled back out of the canyon.

The most troubling thing to Bear was that he had seen the big scout called Tanner with that column. Had Tanner seen Willow? If he had, no doubt there would be a renewed effort to get her back.