Lakota Winds (Zebra Historical Romance) (4 page)

"It has been over two circles of the seasons since you lost your wife
and son, mitakola. Do your heart and body hunger to replace them?"

Wind Dancer's fading smile vanished fast at Red Feather's serious
expression. "I had put such longings away until I saw Morning Mist,"
he revealed. "She stirred my body as no woman has, and I yearn for
another child. I love and respect my family, but it was strange to return to their tepee and to remain there after mine was gone, as if doing so
shouts loudly of that defeat by the Bird People. At times, it is as if I
walk two life trails. When my moccasins roam one, it is as if they never
lived; when they travel the other, it is as if they still live and I will see
them that sun or moon."

Red Feather understood well: following the deaths of his wife and
son, Wind Dancer, as was their custom in the ituwahan, gave away all
he owned except his weapons and horse which he needed for hunting
and for battling enemies. He also kept his Wicasta Itancan shirt which
was half blue and half yellow and decorated with hairlocks, a symbol
of his rank in that powerful group of men who carried out the orders
of the council. Homeless and alone afterward, he returned to his parents'
tepee, there to stay until he took another wife, who owned the family's
tepee and its possessions. Their physical bodies had long ago been
reclaimed by nature's elements from their burial scaffolds, their spirits-
wanagi-now living with Wakantanka.

"That is the way it is meant to be, mitakola, "Red Feather said. "The
Great Spirit dulls those memories so peace can come and pains be
healed. The time for Ghost-Owning is past, so you must release them
forever and travel a new and happy path."

As he stared at the unfinished arrow across his thighs, Wind Dancer
briefly reflected on the loss of his cherished son. He recalled the wanagi
wopahte which had contained his son's second finest garments, favorite
playthings, and hairlock; that leather spirit pouch had hung on a short
huyamni for a year following the boy's death. Food had been placed
before that three-legged stand at meals for one full span of the seasons,
until those possessions were placed upon his son's scaffold after the
ituwahan ceremony of feasting and giving away of almost all of his
belongings, thus ending the Ghost-Owning rite for his beloved child.
He recalled how he had sung the death chant for two suns and moons
until he was exhausted and hoarse. He recalled how his heart had ached
and felt empty of emotion for a long time. Then he had accepted his
fate and the reality his son traveled the "spirit trail." Yet, he had never gotten over loving and missing the boy or hungering for revenge on
the Crow, one in particular.

Not wanting to reopen that wound, Wind Dancer changed the
subject, "Grandfather says a war is coming, one like a lance with sharp
points at each end, each facing a different direction. I do not fear death,
my friend, only dishonor and being denied the ranks of hunter and
protector for my family. I am certain Morning Mist was not a woman
who would bend like a willow to become a supple bow. I do not need
a woman with skills and prowess to match mine; I need a woman who
gives joy, warmth, and obedience."

"If the Great Spirit crossed your path with the one of Morning Mist,
is it not wise to find it and walk it?" Red Feather speculated, "Come,
let us ride to the Brave Heart camp to seek word of her fate and to
learn if she has a mate. We need only to say we come to visit our allies,
words which are true."

"Your words are wise, my friend; let us seek enlightment."

The following evening, Wind Dancer and Red Feather camped at
the edge of their hunting grounds after leaving the Brave Heart's camp.

The oldest son of Chief Rising Bear said, "I do not understand, my
friend. How can it be they do not know and have not heard of a woman
who dresses and battles as a man and is called Morning Mist?"

"It is strange, mitakola. Perhaps she was a spirit helper sent to guide
you to the Crow so you could defeat them before they scouted our
camp or the Brave Heart's. As with the coming of White Buffalo Maiden
long, long ago, after her task was done, Pte Skawin disappeared and
has not returned."

"It is as if she vanished as did my mother and half-white brother
many seasons ago. We do not know why either was taken away or why
only one was returned to our family. Perhaps it will be the same with
Morning Mist. Perhaps our paths will cross again as they did with my
mother, or perhaps she is gone forever as happened with my second
brother. Until her truth is revealed to me, I must push away all thoughts of her and think only of the perils before us," Wind Dancer concluded
aloud, and his best friend agreed with him.

Ten days had passed since Wind Dancer encountered the mysterious
woman in the forest when bad news arrived at their winter encampment
which was nestled in the protective foothills of the Paha Sapa. The two
sons of Chief Rising Bear along with several other men had just returned
from a successful hunt when they heard someone approach and call out
to them.

Wind Dancer turned and saw a rider slide from his horse and slump
to the ground and surmised one of their tribal members was injured.
Before he and others could reach the fallen warrior, the man called out
a warning in a weakened voice.

"Hiya! Lila makujelo! Lel mayazan!"

Wind Dancer halted everyone's approach when Badger said, "No! I
am sick! It hurts here," and touched his stomach. He asked where the
rest of the trading party was and Badger told him they would not be
returning.

"Upi kte sni yelo. "

Sighting no wounds, Wind Dancer asked him why not. "Toke sni?"

"Come no closer; I am bad medicine; I carry the white man's sickness
within me. All others are dead. This evil will leap upon you and slay
you as it did with us. I must tell all before my spirit leaves my-"

Wind Dancer grabbed one man's arm and halted him from going
to their friend's aid when the warrior clasped his arms over his abdomen,
groaned in agony, and dry-heaved so hard he shuddered. Liquid ran
down his thighs from beneath an already soiled breechclout. His heart
ached at Badger's torment, but they could not risk bringing him into
camp and infecting others with a lethal disease. He still remembered
the mikosica-the smallpox epidemic-which ravaged many tribes when
he was ten winters old. That was only one of the wasicun's evils, along
with his false tongue, firewater, and thundersticks. Many reasons
abounded to reinforce his feeling that his people should avoid them.
Yet, others wanted to trade with them, as with those who had taken pelts and hides to the post at Pierre which was built along the mighty
river a few suns' travel away.

After Rising Bear and Nahemana joined them, the chief asked what
was wrong, and his eldest son explained the grim situation. When others
began to talk, the chief requested silence and told Badger to continue
his report and to take his time. "Inila. Wociciyaka wacin. Hanheya. "

"It feels as if the grizzly's claws rip at my belly. My skin is cold and
strange like a dead featherless bird. The blood walks as a turtle within
me. I shake as the leaves in a strong wind. I can keep no food or water
within me."

By that time, most of the Red Shield Band had seen or heard the
commotion and had gathered near the group of hunters and their leader.
They listened in horror to their friend's story, one told with great
difficulty.

Following another spell of shivers, the weakening man continued.
"The sickness the white man calls cholera came on the boat which spits
smoke into the air. All who went near those who were sick were struck
down by this evil. I could not save the others in our party; the medicine
in our bundles did not help us. I rode like the wind to warn our people
not to go near the trading post on the big river to look for us. It is too
late for me; I will die soon, as the others did."

Badger sat bent over on the ground and clutched his horse's foreleg
for support. "All I am is leaving me. Even the white men have no
medicine to save them; many die there and their bodies are burned to
slay the sickness on them and their garments. You must throw limbs
on me and shoot a fire arrow at mine to do the same. It is bad to touch
even a dead body whose spirit has left it, for the evil remains on it. Do
not wash me, put on my finest garments, and place me on a scaffold.
Do not keep my belongings or horse; all must be eaten by flames. If
you do not obey, the peril which comes from the direction of the rising
sun will destroy you."

Wind Dancer exchanged glances with Nahemana as those last words
were spoken. "That is the same warning given to Grandfather in a
recent dream which he revealed to me. Grandfather said we would be attacked by two perils, one from where the winter winds are born and
one from where the sun rises. The dream told him they have the power
to destroy us. One has come to be." As night closed in around them,
and although he knew the answer to his question, he asked, "What
must we do, Father?"

A troubled Rising Bear looked at the elderly shaman upon whose
heavily furrowed face light flickered from a freshly lit torch and asked,
"What did Wakantanka say we must do to battle such evils, Wise One?"

"Follow Badger's warning," Nahemana replied in a solemn tone.
"Our friend and brother has seen the power of this evil and knows he
cannot be saved from it. He is brave and ready for his spirit to travel
the Ghost Trail. Wakantanka will seize it from the flames and guide it
along its journey."

Nahemana looked skyward. "See, the moon's face is dark so she will
not have to witness this sad deed. No one must go near Badger. He
must walk his final steps upon Mother Earth alone. After his spirit
leaves his body, his horse must be slain so Badger can ride him along
the Ghost Trail. Wood must be gathered; it must be light enough to
be thrown over our friend and brother from where we stand. Wind
Dancer is skilled with the arrow, so he must shoot one with a flaming
tip into the wood. After all is eaten by the fire, dirt and rocks must be
piled atop the ashes."

"It will be as you say, Wise One," Rising Bear said before he assigned
a group of men to guard Badger's safety until his spirit departed.

Mothers with babies and small children left to feed the infants and
to lay the little ones upon their sleeping mats, and other women returned
to their tepees with heavy hearts, but most of the men remained there
for a time to give their tribesman comfort.

More torches were lit and jabbed into the ground in a large circle
around the fallen warrior as the guards began their vigil against predators
attacking the vulnerable man. As time passed, the night air grew chilly
but the wind remained calm as if in mourning. The only sounds were
those of mumbled prayers, soft chanting, nocturnal creatures and birds creeping about in the forest nearby, and the burning of the torches. All
witnesses noted that Badger bore his torment in brave silence. His wife
and two children observed the tragedy in a mixture of pride at his
courage and sadness at his sufferings and impending loss; they wanted
to tend him to ease his agony, but that was forbidden. Everyone knew
the good and safety of the tribe came first. All they could do was watch,
wait, and pray in shared anguish and utter helplessness.

At last, Badger lay still and quiet in a merciful stupor, yet, the vigil
continued by the guards, friends, and family as death sneaked closer to
him.

By the first rays of sunlight at dawn, Badger was dead. Many hunterwarriors gathered limbs and tossed them into a pile atop their fallen
companion. War Eagle, the youngest son of Rising Bear, ended the
horse's life with speed and mercy, requiring only two well-placed arrows
to complete his task. Red Feather lit grass secured around the tip of
Wind Dancer's arrow before it was shot into the heap which quickly
caught flame.

As the fire burned and dark smoke rose skyward, Badger's coups were
chanted by his best friends and members of the Sacred Bow Society to
which he belonged. Afterward, the Sacred Bow song was led by fellow
member War Eagle to honor Badger as he made his way to the Ghost
Trail.

Soon, Wind Dancer thought, another great warrior-probably Swift
Otter if he could pass the rigorous tests required-would take Badger's
place as one of four Bow Carriers. He was proud and happy that his
own brother had succeeded with those awesome tests of skills and
endurance.

Before the sun loomed overhead on a warm spring day, the sad deed
was completed. As was their custom, Badger's family and friends would
save, make, and collect items for the ituwahan, the ritual giveaway,
following the passing of one circle of the seasons. That was one experience, Wind Dancer thought, that he did not want to repeat.

It was late afternoon when a call went out through the camp for an
important meeting: "U wo omniciye!"the messenger shouted in passing.