Lakota Winds (Zebra Historical Romance) (34 page)

Chumani and Zitkala observed that their target sat in a near flat
valley surrounded by high dirt-and-grass ridges partly bordered by two
rivers. On three of its sides were scattered or clustered tepees, some
with Indian families around them and others with hairy-faced trappers
and their "squaws" and "half-breed" children. Since most of the abodes
had unpainted surfaces and most of the Indians wore plain garments,
it was impossible to guess to what tribe they belonged. Yet, some were
clearly Pawnee, Cheyenne, Dakota, and Lakota. Even so, none of them
should recognize the two Brule females who would pretend to be Cheyenne instead of Apsaalooke.

Wind Dancer pointed out a steamboat which was heading southward on the wide and muddy river, and two keelboats which were floating
on the water but secured at that location. White men labored on or
near those crafts, loading some items and unloading others. A worn
trail for hauling goods to and from the post was bustling with movement.
It was apparent from the size and sturdiness of the settlement, the many
activities in progress, and number of people there that the Whites did
not intend to ever leave Lakota lands unless they were forced out.

Wind Dancer disclosed that Fort Pierre was one of the largest and
most crucial trading and supply posts for fur trappers, settlers, and
travelers along the river's lengthy course. He told them that many
men whom Whites considered important had visited there, and almost
everyone who entered the territory made it one of their stops. Two
large doors-facing east as did Indian tepees-could be shut and barred
like when trouble arose, and were closed at night for protecting people
and goods. There was a second opening in the wooden wall for stock
to use, and it also stood open at that time.

Chumani thought the post was shaped like an enormous parfleche,
and she easily viewed its interior from their advantageous position. It
was enclosed by tall and strong cottonwood logs, and she resented the
enemy's use of sacred trees to encroach upon their lands. It had structures
built against or near its inner sides, all with pointed tops like tepees,
though their smoke and fresh air flaps were vastly different. From two
overhanging blockhouses at the front and back corners, an awesome
view of the river and Plains had to be visible. They contained slitsas did the walls-for firing weapons at enemies. She knew the three
branches of the Dakota Nation-collectively Sioux to them-fit into
that group.

Three red, white, and blue cloths which her husband told her the
wasicun called American flags waved constantly above the main structure
and atop the blockhouses. She noted the wooden lodges were high and
had many openings for obtaining light and air; from the English she
had learned, she knew they were doors and windows. There were fences
and sheds for visitors' mounts and for the post's animals to be kept at
night, though most appeared to be grazing outside the wooden pickets at that time of day, under the watchful eyes of armed guards. She saw
men-two Whites and one Indian, probably a scout-returning from
morning hunts with fresh game; she watched them unload the already
gutted animals and head out to slay more. She saw others stacking
firewood, fetching barrels of fresh water, cleaning out animal enclosures,
repairing some of the dwellings, and doing other chores she did not
recognize. She even observed some Indian women washing the intruder's
garments and hanging them out to dry on racks she felt should be built
on the grasslands and holding buffalo meat. She did not understand
why some Indians would prefer to dwell around and work for Whites
instead of living proud and free upon the grasslands and in the forests. As
she witnessed two Pawnee staggering out the main entrance, stumbling
toward a cluster of tepees, and collapsing upon buffalo mats beside
them, she hoped and prayed the enemy's "firewater" would never become
appealing and enslaving to her loved ones. She sighted numerous mounds
of dirt and knew it was a burial ground, and recalled the many deaths
caused by the enemy's strange illness not long ago.

Wind Dancer halted Chumani's observations, telling her that many
of the nearby settlers wanted the post to become a military site for
soldiers to protect them from "hostiles" and from bad whites who
preyed upon them, but the owners refused to sell out to the Bluecoats.
He said there were about twenty-five men who worked and lived within
the lofty enclosure. Added to that number were trappers and other
traders who stopped in to make exchanges, visit, rest, and resupply,
travelers passing through the area, newly arrived settlers, men seeking
work or begging for handouts after a bad hunting and trapping season
inland, and Indians come to bargain.

"It has been many seasons since I have been there, mitawin, so many
changes may have happened," he told Chumani after finishing his
description of the post. "Use the eyes of the hawk and cunning of the
fox while entrapped with them. Do and say nothing to challenge them.
The sun rests over our heads. Return before it rides halfway between
this spot and Mother Earth or we will come for you."

"We will be careful, mihigna, "she promised and smiled at him. "We must go now so we will have plenty of time to learn their secrets before
you and Red Feather are attacked by fear for our safety," she said in
an almost teasing tone.

"We will worry even if you work fast or slow," Wind Dancer's best
friend replied. He looked at Zitkala and said, "Return to me this day."

The older Brule woman smiled and nodded, a slight blush coloring
her cheeks after his bold and tender words before the others. "If we are
slow in returning, Red Feather, do not rush to rescue us until you are
certain we are in danger. To do so will prevent the great task we must
do later."

"We will watch and wait and not be foolish," Wind Dancer told
them.

War Eagle added his words of encouragement and hopes for much
success.

At last, Chumani and Zitkala left their loved ones to ride to the post
on the pretense of trading furs, pelts, and hides for goods offered there.
Many of their people had donated the animal skins for this purpose
and they were the best available in their territory and should be worth
much if the Whites did not try to trick them. Even so, they could not
argue against such deceit, as it would call attention to them.

They rode at a slow pace toward the front gates, each holding the
tether of a second horse in one hand, both bearing a pile of furry skins.
A blanket and half of a buffalo hide was between them and their mounts
for comfort during their supposedly long journey. A large deerskin
pouch of trail supplies and a water bag with their ends tied to a rawhide
rope were suspended on either side of their animal's body to make it
appear they had camped along the lengthy way to the post. The only
weapons they carried were common knives in sheaths at their waists.
Their fringed garments and moccasins bore no tribal markings, but
their hairbone chokers and beaded belts and parfleches-gifts to some
of the Red Shields from Cheyenne allies in the past-bore that tribe's
colors and designs to imply membership to it. They did not talk as they
remained alert for trouble and made observations.

Chumani found it insulting to see an eagle-the noble warrior of the sky-painted on the flat wood over the main entryway of the post,
along with colorful and well-drawn pictures of Indians and wasicuns
talking and trading with each other. Perhaps it was to tell Indians the
purpose of the post and to extend a welcome, or to make a clever show
of feigned friendship to them. The women dismounted and walked to
the opening where a bearded man halted them, a long firestick in his
grasp and another shorter weapon in a waist sheath. She saw how he
eyed them thoroughly and glanced at their possessions before speaking
to them.

"You women come to make trade?" he asked.

Chumani-who was to do the communicating-kept her expression
impassive as she used intertribal sign language to tell him she was
Cheyenne, as if she could not understand or speak English. The man
watched her rub the back of her left hand with the fingertips of her
right one for Indian, then use the index finger cutting action to imply
she was Cheyenne. Next she gave the gesture for trade. She motioned
to the pack animals, then made the hand signals for kettle, beads, cloth,
mirror.

"Cheyenne, huh? Shaiyena?"

"Heehee, "she responded, nodding her head to match her yes.

"I don't know Shaiyena, but I'm pretty good with sign talk." He
made the motions for not speaking Cheyenne but he knew a little sign
language.

To permit them to eavesdrop without notice, Chumani made it
appear as if she only understood his hand-talk as he welcomed them
and motioned for them to follow him.

As Chumani and Zitkala trailed his lead, they heard men talking
about the places inside with names like carpenter's shop, smithy, tinner,
saddler, trading-house, living quarters, kitchen, and storage rooms. They
halted near a large wooden one when he gestured for them to stop and
wait there.

Chumani watched as he approached the door and called out to a
man inside, "You're gonna love these Cheyenne beauties, Bert; they got some choice pieces for trade if all of 'em match those I see on top.
Don't speak no English, but they can sign good and speak Cheyenne."

A second white man joined them and welcomed them in sign language, to which Chumani responded. She watched him walk to the
loaded horses and lift some of the skins as he examined the furs, pelts,
and buffalo hides.

"You're right, Zeb; these seem like prime pieces. Let's take 'em inside
and I'll give 'em a good lookover. Tell 'em to follow me and we'll make
a good trade, then help me get this load to the counter."

Zeb chuckled. "You ortta be able to steal these goods easy. I bet they
ain't very bright in the head, but I wouldn't mind gettin' under their
skirts and doin' a little pokin' around. How about you?"

Bert scowled at him. "Don't talk too loud; we got Injuns inside who
understand our words. They might get offended if they hear such
jawing."

Chumani and Zitkala watched Zeb sign for them to follow him
inside after he and Bert collected part of the skins. They entered the
trading-house where whiskey and tobacco were being given to Indian
males before bargaining began. The other men present-Whites and
Indians-only glanced up at them briefly. Bert signaled for the women
to look around while Zeb hauled in the rest of the load and Bert
examined their offerings on a long counter to decide their value. As
soon as he finished helping Bert, Zeb returned to his guard duty at the
gate.

Chumani and Zitkala studied the many shelves and barrels and crates
which almost filled the large room from floor to ceiling and held an
assortment of goods. A display of Indian weapons, beadwork, and
headdresses was suspended from pegs on one wall. She wondered if they
had been gifts, exchanged by owners for weapons and whiskey, or were
traded by enemies who had stolen them in raids or won them during
battles. She was resentful that one item was a Black War Bonnet Society
shield, as its markings were considered powerful and important medicine
symbols, and had belonged to a Lakota somewhere.

As they looked around, the white men they passed acted as if they either were not there or could not understand English, talking about
them freely and often crudely to themselves or their friends. It suited
the women fine to have them duped, as they gathered useful and
interesting information from their enemies' words and careless behavior.

Bert finally joined them and pointed out his offerings: Among them
were guns, knives, hatchets, traps, coffee, sugar, flour, salt, needles,
cloth, thread, kettles, utensils, tincups, mirrors, beads, trinkets, readymade shirts and pants, belts, ropes, cans of food, matches, lanterns,
axes, shovels, canteens, shoes, white man's undergarments, blankets, and
many more items. He laughed at their reactions as he related the uses
of the unknown ones and gave them tastes of sugar and salt. He showed
them how easy sewing would be with the needles and thread. He
chuckled when he saw their amazement to "big magic" matches kept
in a small metal box. He held up mirrors for them to view themselves,
and handed each a comb to try.

When another man summoned him to ask a question, Bert left them
to look around some more while they made their choices and placed
them on the counter beside the skins they were trading as he had
instructed through signing.

Chumani and Zitkala placed the last two selections atop the others,
all except one item to be gifts to those who had donated the furs, pelts,
and hides. Chumani looked at Bert as if to tell him they were ready to
deal and watched him study the piles and take a deep breath. He handsigned for her to wait, then looked at the other men present.

"Any of you speak Cheyenne? I can use some help over here. What
about you, Henry? Don't you work along that section of the Missouri?"

Chumani watched a scraggly-haired man come forth and she tensed,
hoping he wouldn't expose their identities.

"I spent some time with 'em during two winters, with Lone Wolf's
band," Henry told Bert, "I know a little of their tongue. Whatcha
need?"

"Thanks, Henry. These two don't speak any English, and using that
sign language would take a long spell. Tell 'em these things have to be
brought from a long way off and cost plenty to get 'em here. Tell 'em they can have everything if they'll add those two packhorses to their
payment."

Chumani watched the trapper look through the hides. He wore hightop moccasins and had a beard almost to his waist. A foul stench
emanated from him.

Henry evaluated the skins slowly. "These are top quality pelts and
hides, Bert, and tanned good, best job I've seen; no cuts anywhere,"
he concluded. "They're well-worth the items these women chose without
adding them two horses. That's a raw deal. All you're gonna do by
cheating them is make them mad and mistrustful. If you want them to
come back and send their friends to you, it's best to deal straight with
them."