John's heart was in his throat as he heaved himself upon one of the horses. Skyraven did the same. Clutching onto the horses' necks for dear life, trying to ignore the sound of rifle fire
and
the fact that the horses' hooves might well trample them if they fell, they both thanked the Great Spirit and God that some of the Indian ponies followed out the gate, giving them added shelter. They were free! At least for the moment.
As soon as they were out of sight of the fort, John pulled himself into a sitting position atop the Indian pony. Skyraven did the same. Riding as fast as the wind
,
they headed down the trail to
the
Arkansas River
. Finding a shallow place to cross
,
Skyraven showed him another Indian trick, keeping the horses in the water so that there would be no tracks to follow. Then at last they crossed to the other side, feeling the
exhilaration
of knowing they had accomplished the impossible.
Skyraven and John rode at breakneck speed
across the countryside. She
could hear the thundering sound of their horses' hooves as they plunged down the hill and she strained her ears to hear the echoing sound that would mean that they were being followed. There was no such sound
,
yet even so she would not let down her guard. They pushed on, stopping only once or twice for a brief rest and to warm their frozen l
imbs by a fire. It was cold, b
rutally so.
"If the soldiers don't get us then the cold will," John said warily, his concern for her
evident
. "We have to find some shelter before we are frozen to the bone." They wer
e ill prepared for the cold. John
was wearing only his shirt, having given up his blue jacket to Skyraven's shiverin
g form. As he looked at her
, her head slumped forward, her shoulders even now quaking from the cold he knew they had to stop. Traveling at night in the cold was just plain suicide. But where could they go? The area they traveled was deserted with no sign of life. The Indians had moved on, chased away by Chivington's march, nor were there any white settlers
about.
"I know of a cave." Putting her heels to her horse's flanks
,
she led him there and though it turned out to be more an indentation in the hill, just big enough to crouch in, they decided it woul
d do.
Dismounting
,
they carefully hid their horses, though John doubted anyone had followed them this far. Even Sedgwick wouldn't want his men to freeze to death. He would undoubtedly depend on Mother Nature and the time of year to thwart his two fugitives. "He won't expect us to survive this...." Indeed, perhaps they wouldn't. Even so there was something comforting in just being together.
Skyraven gathered firewood and once again used the Indian method of rubbing two sticks together to start the flames. John searched for and found dry grass and leaves to form a bed. What he wouldn't have given for one of Skyraven's buffalo robes at that moment, but realized they would have to do with the
meager
coverings they had, his jacket and her
under slip
which they used as a sheet for their makeshift mattress. Clinging together
,
they soon felt the warmth of each others' bodies bring a measure of h
eat back to their bodies.
"John Hanlen....." Skyraven reached out to him, her eyes closing against her will. "I love you. Forgive me for doubting you, even for a mom
ent. I should have known...."
"Hush, I love you too and I understand. I can't blame you for thinking I was part of it all. I am a soldier, or at least I was. But no more.....I want to live at yo
ur camp. Your grandfather..."
"My grandfather?" Skyraven's heart
sang with joy. "He is alive?"
"Yes. I saw him when I took Desert Flower to the Smokey Hills Camp. That's where we are headed now." He smiled. "I hope I can become a good Indian." He pulled her to his chest and cradled her head against his. Her body curved into his
,
and he smiled as he saw that they fit together so perfectly
.
"I did not learn much of your white ways. They were so confusing......" She sighed, nestling against his w
armth. "But I will try...."
"Sleep now. You'll be safe. I'll watch the fire and make certain it doesn't go out. We have the rest of our lives, Skyraven. The rest of
our lives to love each other."
She fought to stay awake
,
but weariness overcame her. There was so much she wanted to talk about, but she was just too tired to even speak. Still, she knew that he was right. They had the rest of their lives to be together. Days to make love, and to dr
eam, and to touch one another.
The soft press of her body against him sent John's senses into turmoil, yet he breathed a sigh and closed his eyes. For the moment he would be content just to hold her and would worry about tomorrow when the sun came up. And yet. The more he thought about it the more he realized that running away, living in hiding with the Smokey Hill Indian tribes was wrong. Something had to be done about Chivington. He had to be stopped. He was much too dangerous to be kept loose. He had to pay for what he had done. The people of the
United States
had a right to know what really happened at Sand Creek.
I can run away and selfishly isolate myself from the real world or I can take the chance of exposing Chivington for the lying, murdering bastard that he is
, he thought.
What i
s it to be
? Looking down at Skyraven's sweet face
,
it was difficult to make the choice
, and yet he had to
do the right thing even if it meant their daring dash for freedom had been all for naught. He had to go to
Denver
and tell his side of the story no
matter what the penalty
.
Chapter Fifty-One
A storm raged in
Denver
City
. Snow flakes fell to earth with a wrathful fury. The wind howled, blowing the white frothy ice into the eyes, mouths and nostrils of those walking outside. But the fury of the weather was as nothing compared to the furor created
by Major John Hanlen's visit.
"He's a liar!" w
as what the initial reaction had been at first. "Indian lover, that's what he is."
Denver
citizens, especially the men of the Colorado Third, expressed their indignation loudly, calling for his head. There was even talk of lynching him. Then suddenly like a snowball, the truth began
to be found
out
, aided by testimonies of other soldiers such as Captain Silas
Soule and Captain Joseph Cramer, who like John had tried to keep Chivington from carrying out his plan to exterminate the peaceful, trusting Indians at Sand Creek
. Investigation after investigation took place with stunning
conclusions,
for it seemed that John's te
stimony was not the only one that
claimed Ch
ivington had been in the wrong. Repercussions of the Sand Creek tragedy were quick to be heard.
John's courage
and those of the other officers,
opened the matter to inquiry. A few of the officers and enlisted men were in anguish over the part they had played in the matter of Sand Creek. Some of them, it seemed, had written to officials in
Washington
.
Now
Washington
and
Denver
both were alive with rumors that Sand Creek had not been the glowing field of battl
e it's commander had claimed.
When all was said and done the affidavits obtained from officers, including Lieutenant Sam Dunham, enlisted men and civilians at the fort vehemently denounced Chivington's action and these too were forwarded to
Washington
.
Fort
Lyon
was reassigned to a new commander with orders to investigate Sand Creek.
Before the month of December was out, the people of the
Colorado
Territory
were stunned to hear the unsettling details. It was now said that Chivington's men had murdered Indians who had thought they were under Army protection. The testimony further showed that most of the Indian casualties were not warriors. Gradually the Indian side of the story was emerging.
As an eye witness from the Indian's point of view, Skyraven gave an impassioned plea for her people, telling all that she had seen and heard. "The ground is still white with the bleaching bones of the slain," she said to the general hearing the case. "We came in peace, trusted your promises, and for that we were given death."
As for Skyraven's tribe, they as a people had not sought war and did not take part in it now, though other tribes joined in hostilities. Most of the tribe decided to remain with Chief Little Raven, who wandered the southern plains remaining apart from the areas of conflict. Lone Wolf was the exception. He and a knot of warriors
occasionally
rode northward to join those who fought the whites in vengeance for the massacre.
John had tak
en a hotel room. Now as he sat
on the settee with his arm around Skyraven
,
he read the headlines of the
Rocky Mountain News
which told a far different story than
previously. "Listen to this, my love.
A dispatch from the capitol heralds a different version of the affair of the Indians at Sand Creek, it says." He squeezed her
hand
tightly. "The affair at
Fort Lyon
,
Colorado
in which Colonel Chivington destroyed a large Indian village and all its inhabitants, is to be made the subject of a congressional investigation
Congress has issued a report calling it a ‘massacre of the
Cheyenne
and Arapaho Indians’, and scathingly
denouncing
Evans and Chivington. Even the President has heard about the inquiry."
"T
he
Great W
hite F
ather
Lean Bear
always spoke about?"
Her blue eyes widened in awe.
"Yes. And so you see our coming he
re was right after all."
“Yes, it is what my grandfather would have counse
led.”
T
he future
, however,
had looked dismal as they had traveled
to
Denver
acros
s the snow and ice covered land
, their feet and hands frozen, the wind whipping at their faces. More than once or twice
,
John had been determined to turn back, to seek the protective shelter of Black Kettle's
Arap
a
hao
camp, but
Sky raven’s
courage and love had urged him on. It had seemed to be a journey that would never come to an end and then
,
as if in answer to a prayer
, an old gold miner, heading back to
his mine in Central City, had come upon them and offered them help. He'd given them food, blankets, and most important of all the shelter of his wagon when the nights were as John put it, "as cold as hell".
Though it seemed they deserved to be together now without ever having to say good-bye again, John had been called back to active duty, but as an Indian agent and not as a soldier. He had proven himself a most respectable advocate of the Indian cause and thus was given a post that put to use his sincere liking for the Indians.
"It is a pity that what was done
can not be undone
," he whispered. "The Sand Creek killings have driven a wedge between our two peoples, Skyraven. It's going to put our love
to the test, but somehow I know
the strength of what I feel for you and what you feel for me will
cause it to
survive. I love you so very much.
”
"And I love you." Touching his fa
ce tenderly, leaning over him, S
kyraven gave promise of the future with her kiss.
Epilogue
:
A serene, unclouded,
brilliant
blue sky unfolded over the Indian village below. The wildflowers of summer emblazoned the hillside with a rainbow of colors. For the moment there was peace in Smokey Hills beyond the
Colorado
boundary
. Peace, what a precious blessing it was, Skyraven thought as she shaded her face against the sun's glare, watching the figure on horseback galloping over the crest of thee hill. Her small two year old daughter was at her side, mimicking her mother's action
, also watching the horizon..
"It's your father, Win
ter Fire. He's come home...."
She looked at her daughter, feeling a sense of pride and overwhelming love.
She was a beautiful little girl with light brown braids with just a hint of red, and eyes the color of the sky in spring.
The child was proof of her ever
-
abiding love for her yellow-haired soldier, her husband now. Doubly so, John had said, for they had been married in two ceremonies, one by her grandfather and one from
a medicine man of his people, a
"preacher" as John c
alled the black coated man.
Not that the years together had been easy
.
The last two years had been turbulent but happy. There were times when John's duties as an agent of the Arapaho and
Cheyenne
took him to see the Great White F
ather in
Washington
, away from his wife and child and the encampment. The
division between their two peoples had caused hatred and prejudice to plague them. But, as John had predicted those few years ago, their love was strong enough to conquer all.
"John! John!" As he came
,
closer Skyraven waved her hands, trying to capture his attention
.
Leading his horse down the hill
,
he reined in Running Antelope, gathered his wife and daughter in his arms and kisse
d them both, in turn.
"You don't know how good it is to know that the two women I love most in the world will be here to greet me when I return," he said smiling. His eyes touched on Skyraven's face. "I'm always amazed that you get even more beautiful wi
th each passing day, my love."
His hands held her close in an embrace that spoke of his yearning, and that warmth spread to her, burning her wh
ere he touched her. W
hen he kissed her
, it was with all th
e
hunger of his soul.
Together they walked hand in hand, Winter Fire in the middle, towards the second largest tepee in the village. It was here they lived when they spent the time with her people. At other times they shared a small wooden frame house in
Leavenworth
. A compromise had been struck, for John had decided he could not ask her to leave the people she had grown up with. He would not take her permanently away from her own kind. Thus the spring and summer months were spent with the Arapaho, and the autumn and winter months among the whites.
Winter Fire would h
ave the best of two worlds.
As an Indian agent
,
John had been fully accepted into the Arap
a
ho
tribe. He was known as
"
Tall Yellow Hair",
the best and most honest agent they had ever had.
Skyraven had taught him the Indian language so that he could speak in English, Arapaho and
Cheyenne
.
Together with the chiefs Black Kettle, Little Raven
, Spotted Wolf, Storm
and the others
,
he worked to bring peace and prosperity to the Indians
, no easy task considering the volatile emotions that flared between Indian and the white man, particularly since Sand Creek
. Now the southern plains of
Kansas
and the Oklahoma Panhandle had
become home to the two tribes, n
ot
Colorado
. After Sand Creek
,
they had never returned to the lands of their betrayal. It was
a shame,
Skyraven thought, for the winter camp of
Boulder
had been a most beautiful spot, one she could only reflect on in
the dreams of her childhood.
"How did your peace m
ission go?" she asked John now.
"The usual grumblings and stupidy. Greedy men wanting more than their share of the pie. But I have hopes. There are plans for another treaty council at Medicine Lodge Creek, sixty miles south of
Fort
Larned
." H
e sighed. "We will see....."
Reaching down he pulled at one of Winter Fire's braids. "I want to create a peaceful world for her.
One where there is no hatred."
"Perhaps
you will. We can only hope."
"At least
there has been progress,” John said. “Remember that the committee investigating Sand Creek has given the opinion that in most cases, Indian wars
can
be traced to the aggressions of lawless white men
. No longer are they blaming the Indians for every bit of trouble.
Since Sand Creek I believe at least my people have acquired a conscien
ce and feel less cavalier about
warring with t
ho
se whose ways are different."
John was happy with the freedom he had found in the Arapaho village. He liked to walk with Skyraven and Winter Fire along the
Smoky river
and think of the earth and the
dome
of the sky as his home.
"John Hanlen...!" Raising his hand in a gesture of peace, Skyraven's grandfather peered out of his tepee and came to greet his grand-son-in-law.
Buffalo
's Brother was getting visibly older and was not as active as he had been in years past. The sadness of Sand Creek and the atrocities he had seen had taken a toll on the old man. Still, he loved his great-granddaughter with the same devotion he had loved her mother.
At night around the fire he told the child Winter Fire stories about the
brave deeds of the Arapaho so that she would hold a pride in he
r heart for her heritage.
"President Johnson sends his greeting,
G
randfather," John said, receiving
a grin from the medicine man.
Buffalo
's Brother had
hoped he could go with John to see the Great White Father in
Washington
like Black
Kettle
and
Lean Bear
had done
,
but his health was too frail now and Skyraven had feared the trip
would be too much
for him
. Thus
he had waited patiently for the flag and medal that John had promised to bring back for him
.
Now John held the medal
out to the o
ld man and buffalo Brother’s smile mirrored his pride as it was pinned to the
buckskin
of his tunic.
"Let us hope that this time these tokens will bring good luck," John exclaimed
, trying to push from his mind that they had not brought much luck to
Lean Bear
or Black Kettle
.
"We will hope it will be so."
Buffalo
's Brother looked from John to Skyraven to John again
,
and as if realizing they wanted to be alone, took Winter Fire by the hand. "Come, little one. There is a new little pony I want yo
u to see...."
"And I have some news for you." Skyraven k
new he would be pleased. Even so, as he looked down at her, she blushed.
"News?" In answer she placed his hand on her stomach. His eyes swept over her, up and down, widening as they rested on he
r
belly. "Another child?"
Picking her up in his arms, Jo
hn whirled her around as a piercing shout of happiness escaped his lips, then just as quickly he set her down and held her at arm's length, looking at her as if suddenly she had become as fragi
le as an egg.
Seeing his concerned
expression she smiled. "I won't break, John." With that she held out her arms to him, tasting of his kisses as a gust of sudden wind ruffled her hair.
The wind reminded her of the turbulent days still to come. Yet
Skyraven
knew they would always love each other.
. And where there was love
,
there were also peace, hope and tranquility. In her heart she knew that as long as they had each other, all would be well.