Authors: Janelle Taylor
Rising Bear said, “Only the Great Spirit knows and sees all, my son. We will follow His command when He sends it to our shaman.”
Nahemana told them, “I will go into the sacred hills alone to pray and to seek a vision to learn if the Great Spirit is ready to reveal His plans to me. On the next sun, I will prepare myself in the sweat lodge. When the second sun rises, I will leave. After I return, I will speak with Two Feathers and I will tell you of that talk and of my vision.”
“That is good, Wise One,” the chief said, and his three sons nodded in accord. “We will gather and speak again after Nahemana returns to us.”
Wind Dancer stood and said, “It is time for the evening meal. I must return to my family. Dewdrops will be eager to
hear the news. She will be happy our brother is safe and the white girl was brought back to our camp.”
As Cloud Chaser also rose from his sitting mat to head home, he said, “As is Dawn, for Caroline is much help to her and with our son. Do not worry, Father, for I will show courage and patience in the conflict with Two Feathers. I will not allow him to provoke me to fight or to quarrel harshly before our people. I will treat him as if I do not see or hear him, or I will smile and laugh as if he jests when he attacks me with bad words.”
“That is good and wise and cunning, Cloud Chaser, and I thank you.”
War Eagle, who remained seated in his family’s abode, said, “I will do the same as my brother with our cousin. We must not allow his evil to flow over us as a flood and drown us.”
As Rising Bear glanced from man to man, he smiled and said in a voice made husky with strong emotion, “There is much pride and love and joy in my heart for my three sons. Together you will guide and protect our people during the dark suns ahead, as will the Great Spirit and our shaman.”
During the evening meal while dusk settled in on that area, Cloud Chaser related the grim news to Caroline.
She stopped eating to question him further. “How can the army order you off your lands or justify an attack on the Red Shields and other bands who aren’t to blame for what those … other Indians did?” she asked, relieved she didn’t spit out “bloody renegades” in her moment of distress. Besides her grave concern for these people and for War Eagle, she was worried about David and other innocent whites who would be ensnared by a vicious war.
“To the whites and their government, an Indian is an Indian, an enemy, and we are all at fault for troubles in our territory. The Indian agent, the commanders at Forts Laramie
and Kearny, and the white government in Washington have been told what happened here and who is to blame for the raids and retribution strikes. They also have been told that in some situations, the guilty ones were whites dressed as Indians. One white gang was captured while committing a deadly robbery on a stage and they had proof that gang was responsible for robbing and slaying soldiers on another day.” He knew those facts to be accurate, as he had been involved in those incidents and had written those informative but futile letters last summer, though he did not reveal those events to her.
“The truth does not matter to them; for if they accept it, they have no justifiable reason to make such demands on all Lakotas or to attack any band at random. As for the raids and slayings done by the Brules, many had just cause, as with the lethal assault on Lieutenant Grattan and his troop at the end of last summer.”
Caroline had studied history and geography during her school years. She had read every book she could get her hands on and had learned the historical events affecting her country and others around the world. She was familiar with the topics of conquest and subjugation, the greed or need for freedom and expansion, for seemingly unstoppable progress. America wanted this land from ocean to ocean, from Canada to Mexico. The Indians were situated in the near center of that desire and were challenging it, so war seemed certain, just as both sides believed they were in the right. From what she had learned, the Indians were many, skilled, and resolved; but the whites far outnumbered them, had better weapons, and were determined to take control of territory they already considered theirs.
Caroline decided that Cloud Chaser was not wrong in his suspicions and assessment of the matter. She hated to think of her brother being a party to such nefarious history, and she could not imagine David doing the kinds of things that would be required for victory over the Indians. “I’m sorry it
will come to war between our peoples, Cloud Chaser, but it sounds as if you spoke the truth. I dread to see what will happen in this territory and to your band since peace is impossible. It almost makes me ashamed to be white. I suppose it makes you regret the years you lived among them. Since you did and you learned so much from and about us, don’t you realize the whites have more people and weapons than the Indians do? You will be going up against a mighty force. How can you possibly win?”
“I have told my people and our allies the things I learned while I lived among the whites and during my journey homeward and from soldiers at the forts near our territory, as did the ten chiefs who traveled to Washington with Agent Fitzpatrick after the signing of the Long Meadows Treaty four years ago.” He did not include the eleventh chief, who was so overwhelmed and depressed by what he saw—their awesome numbers, their powerful weapons, and their “magic” possessions—that he took his life upon returning home.
“No matter the odds against us or the perils we will face or the sacrifices and sufferings we might endure, does a man of honor not have to battle for what he believes is right, for what belongs to him? Does a man of honor not fight to protect his family, home, people, and lands? You are a good woman and have much honor, so would you not do and feel the same?”
Caroline was pleased by his opinion of her, but it did not affect her honest response. “A man or woman of true honor could do no less.”
Cloud Chaser grinned and added, “You are also a woman of courage and intelligence, for you speak wise words and feel things deeply.”
There is no doubt my youngest brother knows such things and is drawn to you.
As she smiled and nodded her appreciation, he changed the subject. “It is good you encountered and defeated Black Fist of the Crow. He was a fierce raider and slayer of Lakotas. The black upon his hand was the symbol of his name, one he
held high and shook in warning and taunting many times in the past. You and my brother have stilled it forever, and we are grateful. Wear Black Fist’s weapon in great pride, for you earned it with your courage and cunning, and for saving War Eagle’s life.”
Caroline wondered if the last part of his sentence was Cloud Chaser’s conclusion or if War Eagle had said so during the men’s meeting. “I didn’t save his life. He fought and killed his enemy.”
“If you had not been there or you had not distracted our foe, who is to say War Eagle would still be alive? Accept the honor he has given to you, and the gratitude of our people for your brave deed.”
Those feelings and statements surprised Caroline and made her wonder exactly what his brother had told them about the incident and her. She was certain he hadn’t mentioned their intimate lapses, nor would she. That thought reminded her to ask, “What does
kawa
mean?”
A baffled Cloud Chaser replied, “To flower. Why?”
“While we were traveling here from the grasslands, Dawn pointed to a flower and said that word. I thought it meant
flower
but I wasn’t sure.”
Cloud Chaser surmised there was more behind her query than simple curiosity. Perhaps she was trying to change the subject from war or from his brother and that was the first thing to come to mind to use as a distraction. “Flower is
wahca.
She must have meant she had to wait for them to flower before plucking them. Many are used for dyes, medicines, and in cooking. Did she pick them while she talked to you?”
“Yes, and put them in a pouch. I suppose she was trying to explain what she was doing but I didn’t know enough of your language by then to grasp her meaning. Thank you for clarifying it for me.” After Cloud Chaser smiled and nodded and focused his attention on the remainder of his food, Caroline’s mind translated War Eagle’s past words:
To flower
in the heart.
Did his slip mean she had taken root in his heart like a lovely flower? Or was there a plant called heart flower, perhaps a yellow one or a blossom with that shape so he had given her a nickname or an Indian one since he had said hers was hard to pronounce? Somehow she didn’t think so, as a heart flower should be in a shade of red.
She recalled Dawn’s genial greeting upon her return and reflected on the talk she had just shared with Cloud Chaser. Did those actions and words mean she was earning the band’s respect, even friendship? If so, how would that affect her relationship with War Eagle? Just because he found her desirable as a woman did not mean he had affection for her. Yet, she could hope and pray something special had happened between them…
On the second day after their return, War Eagle watched his silver-haired grandfather—with the aid of a walking stick—head slowly on protesting bones into the forested foothills. He knew the shaman would continue onward until he found an elevated site with a level surface, perhaps a black boulder near a cliff’s edge, a secluded spot where he would fast, pray, and seek a sacred vision. With the aid of a peyote button in the small medicine pouch suspended around his neck and in full view of the Great Spirit, the holy man would be granted a revelation.
War Eagle respected and was awed by Nahemana’s mystical powers. He knew the day would come when his grandfather’s weakening body would rest upon a decorated
wicagnakapi
built of hardwood and constructed on a lofty hill land high off the ground to protect it from scavengers. Nahemana’s body would be clad in his finest Elk Dreamer array and secured inside a buffalo hide. There it would remain until the forces of Mother Nature claimed it, as his spirit would already be with the Creator. He dreaded for that sad day to come, but it was inevitable; it was a natural part of the Sacred
Circle of Life. Neither he nor his grandfather feared death, though both wanted to walk and breathe upon the earth as long as possible.
Although he had great faith in the shaman and the Creator, War Eagle closed his eyes for a short time and prayed for Nahemana to succeed in his quest and to be safe while doing so. As soon as he finished, he wondered if the Great Spirit would reveal anything about Caroline and, if so, what would it be? What would he do if the Creator revealed that her task among them was done following the battle with Black Fist and the exposure of his cousin’s lingering evil, and she must leave? Now that he knew there was a strong bond between them, could he part with her forever? Even if he could not take her as his mate, at least she was nearby and gave him happiness. Would this be the first time in his life when he could not obey the command of his grandfather and the Great Spirit? He prayed that was not true, for he knew what defiant refusal would cost him…
On that same day to their south, General William Harney arrived at Fort Kearny to initiate his campaign against the dreaded Sioux.
During the afternoon of Nahemana’s departure day, news spread fast in the camp that Chumani—beloved wife of Wind Dancer, their next chief—had gone into labor with her second child. Being a Brule from a band far away, Dewdrops did not have female family members there to help her with that arduous but thrilling event, so Winona joined Chumani in her oldest son’s dwelling to assist with the delivery and to take care of the newborn. An excited and proud Wind Dancer went to his father’s tepee to await the arrival of his next child while the men worked on their weapons and talked.
During the night, Macha was summoned by Hanmani to help Winona, as the girl was not a wife and a mother and was unskilled with the tasks to be done. Too, Chumani’s best friend from her tribe who had joined to her husband’s best friend of the Red Shields could not come, for Zitkala was taking care of her sick daughter, who was three, the same age as Tokapa, Chumani’s son, who was with Little Turtle, his great-grandmother.
After the two females and Cloud Chaser talked, Casmu
was placed in Caroline’s care before the three left the tepee in a rush. She positioned his cradle-board close to her buffalo mat to be sure she would hear if the almost-three-month-old infant awoke and needed tending. She wondered what was happening in Wind Dancer’s abode. She also realized that Cloud Chaser and Macha had revealed great faith in her by leaving their cherished son alone in her care. Their action told Caroline they trusted her not to abandon him to escape while everyone was either distracted or asleep. That conclusion pleased her, and she vowed she would not fail in her duty to them.
When the time came for Casmu to nurse the next morning, Macha returned long enough to feed him, cuddling and singing as she did so.
It was obvious to Caroline from the way Macha clung to her son and from her expressions that her new friend was deeply concerned for Chumani. After she took Casmu from his mother, who kissed his face many times and stroked his head of dark hair before hurrying outside, she saw Macha whispering to Cloud Chaser beyond the entry flap before she left again and he returned to the tepee.
Caroline tended Casmu, rewrapped him in his bundle, and secured him in the cradle-board as she had been taught to do. Cloud Chaser watched over him while she fetched fresh water and gathered wood nearby. After building a fire, she prepared their first meal of the day, dried-nut-and-berry bread called
wigliun kagapi
and roasted strips of deer, which Cloud Chaser had slain and butchered during the night while he was too restless to sleep.
As she carried out her chores and later as she and Cloud Chaser ate near the fire beside the tepee and with Casmu resting close by, Caroline noticed War Eagle’s occasional glances at her, though she pretended not to see him. She admitted to herself that she could not evict him from the special
rooms inside her head and heart where he had taken up residence during their enlightening journey together. She could not forget his irresistible kisses and embraces, his tender gazes and enticing tone of voice, his rescue from the violent storm and fierce Crow warrior, his gentle manner, a lack of violation and abuse by him and mistreatment by his people, his enormous appeal, his seeming desire for her. Yet, those emotions and occurrences could lead them nowhere, as the path before them was obstructed by too many uncrossable hurdles, especially for him. She could not help wondering if he was as sad and disappointed about their mismatch as she was. She also could not help wondering what he would do if the obstacles were removed by some powerful or divine force. Even if War Eagle desired her as a woman, even liked and respected her, could he ever want more from her than friendship or servitude? If so, could she give up all she was and knew to become his?
No, Caroline Sims, don’t even attempt to swim in such dangerous and unknown waters, as you’re sure to drown!
At midday when Macha returned to nurse and cuddle her son, Caroline observed a scene between husband and wife that was similar to the one she had witnessed earlier. Although she was not included in their exchange of words during that hasty visit, Macha did thank her and smiled.
Caroline sensed the woman was becoming more worried and frightened for Chumani with the passing of every hour. She was asked—not ordered—by Cloud Chaser to continue her “good and kind” care of their son until Macha’s task was finished. Caroline deduced it was a bad sign that the baby remained in the womb this long, especially being a second child. Although she had no child of her own, she empathized with Dewdrops, who must be scared and exhausted after laboring unsuccessfully for many hours. She liked Wind Dancer’s wife, who had been amiable and courteous to her. She prayed
again for the woman’s safety, and for the struggling infant who could not seem to find a way or the strength to enter this world.
When Macha arrived in late afternoon to nurse her son, Caroline felt compelled to inquire about Wind Dancer’s wife and child, telling them how much she liked Chumani and was concerned about the delay in birth. Cloud Chaser told her the baby refused to leave its mother’s body, though the top of its head had been showing since that morning. Since Nahemana was far from camp on a vision quest, the shaman—who knew much about medicine ways—could not provide advice or send forth prayers and healing chants.
Caroline told him, “I would be honored to take Dawn’s place so she can feed Casmu and get some rest before she collapses from exhaustion. In the white man’s world, Cloud Chaser, a doctor sometimes makes a cut in a woman’s private region to allow a large baby to come forth, if that is the problem. Since its head is showing, it isn’t positioned wrong in the womb. If things continue like this much longer, both Dewdrops and the child could die, will probably die, or suffer great injuries. I’ve seen many babies being born on our plantation and I’ve helped my mother deliver a few of them. When a baby couldn’t get free of its mother’s body, we summoned the doctor and he did the special cutting and sewing while I assisted him. It worked every time. Also, my mother’s father was a doctor; he allowed me to watch him work on the sick and injured many times, even help out on occasion. I learned a great deal about medicine and surgery from him.”
Cloud Chaser eyed the white woman intently and decided she was being honest. “Can you do this cutting and sewing to save their lives?”
Caroline wondered what would happen to her if she failed and both died or suffered painful complications or received permanent injures. She could be slain, could be horribly tortured
before death. She recalled that her maternal grandfather had been murdered by a crazed drunk after his wife’s death following surgery, for which the man had granted permission after it was too late to save her. Even her grandmother had been killed when she went to her husband’s aid. “I think I can,” she murmured in brief panic, then vanquished her cowardice. “No, I’m certain I can do it. I have a small medical kit in my satchel;.it belonged to Grandfather. It contains what I need. Except for a scalpel, so I’ll need a sharp knife. The blade should be sterilized in a hot flame and then cooled in clean water.”
Cloud Chaser studied Caroline again before he decided she could be right and was capable of performing that unusual task. After having spent twelve years in the white man’s world, he knew about their good medicines and healing skills. But could he convince his brother about their powers and persuade him to trust her with the lives of his two loved ones? “I will speak with Wind Dancer. If he agrees, I will return for you.”
Caroline was pleased and even surprised by Cloud Chaser’s favorable reaction, but winning over Wind Dancer would be harder, if at all possible. Too, the chief and/or his wife could object and prevent her assistance. Or Chumani could refuse the strange and painful procedure. In the event Cloud Chaser succeeded, she should ready her kit and herself. She looked at Macha, who was nursing Casmu, and said she was going to be excused. She saw the weary woman look up, smile, and nod permission.
Caroline left the tepee and walked toward the dense forest nearby. Before she entered the tree line, War Eagle approached her.
“Tuktelyati hwo?”
he asked just to hear her voice and to view her face, then repeated his query in English. “Where you go?”
She halted, looked at him, and said with pinkening cheeks,
“Leja.”
He nodded and said, “I stay here. Let no one come to forest.”
As she warmed from being near him and experiencing his kindness, Caroline thanked him for guarding her privacy and hurried into concealment. She thought it unwise to stop and talk with him or even smile at him in public, so she merely glanced his way and thanked him again in passing. She returned to the tepee, fetched her satchel, retrieved her soap, and scrubbed her hands. She withdrew the medical kit, undid its fasteners, and checked the contents, feeling relieved she had brought it.
She turned toward the entry when she heard footsteps there and saw Cloud Chaser returning alone, and assumed his family had refused her help.
“Wind Dancer says he does not know about such female things, but he begs you to save his wife and child if you possess such magic and skill. I will take you there,” he said as Hanmani entered the tepee. Cloud Chaser looked at Macha and asked in their language, “Do you want to remain here or do you want my sister to keep Casmu while you join Winona and Caroline?”
Macha replied, “I will go to help them with Dewdrops.”
Caroline did not grasp all of those Lakota words, but she heard the names mentioned and wondered why Cloud Chaser had not said
“ina,”
for
my mother,
when he spoke of Winona. That seemed strange to her, but she lacked the time to ponder that mystery as Cloud Chaser told her to follow him and Macha, which she did, carrying the precious medical kit.
When they reached the other tepee, Caroline saw Wind Dancer waiting for them outside where he had a fire going and a knife resting on a flat rock with its blade in the flames. From his hunkered position, he looked up at her, studied her as intently as Cloud Chaser had done earlier, then took a deep breath before he stood and faced her.
“You possess large medicine magic and healing skills?”
Caroline responded, “I know many of them, Wind Dancer. I believe I can deliver the baby and save their lives. I pray I have not waited too long to offer my help, but I feared it would not be accepted and would anger you.”
The future chief nodded understanding. “The knife is ready.”
Noting how well he spoke English, she said, “Cool it in the fresh water and give it to me.” She also was aware that Chumani spoke good English, having learned it from a white trapper before she met and married Wind Dancer. That would make it easier to give her explanation, instructions, and comfort. No doubt she and Cloud Chaser were the ones who had taught the others to speak it, and—for some reason—War Eagle was learning more of it fast, though it may have nothing to do with her. She put aside thoughts of her heart’s desire to concentrate on the hazardous problem at hand.
Caroline took the knife by its elk-horn handle, sent Wind Dancer an encouraging smile, ducked her head, and entered the tepee. She glanced back and saw Macha lower the flap and lace it in place for privacy, though the interior was stuffy. At least the opening at the dwelling’s peak allowed some fresh air to enter and some hot air to escape. Her gaze went to Chumani, who was on her knees beside a sturdy stake that had been driven into the ground. During a contraction, Chumani gripped it and bore down hard to expel the child. As Chumani struggled in vain, Caroline saw her bite on a stick. She surmised that action was supposed to prevent screams and to calm tensions. She noted a carved wooden bowl with steaming water, sweet grasses, and herbs of some kind, which held several more sticks being readied for use when needed.
Caroline smiled and nodded a greeting to the watchful Winona before she approached Chumani. She knelt beside the woman, whose anxious gaze met hers. “I have come to help, Dewdrops. What I must do will hurt, but it will allow
your child to escape your body. You must lie on your sleeping mat for me to do my tasks.”
“I will lie on a blanket to not stain our sleeping mat. Use your magic and skills to save our child,” Chumani urged, her dark eyes teary and puffy and their white areas red-streaked from too many hours without sleep.
“Tell Winona to get the blanket, for I do not speak your language well enough and might say the wrong words.” She waited while Chumani spoke with Winona, who fetched and spread a blanket on the ground in the tepee’s center. After Chumani lay down on her back and her garment was lifted to her breasts, Caroline placed items she would use on a clean white petticoat that she had brought with her. Chumani told her the unused deerskin nearby was for catching the baby and wrapping it in following its birth.
Caroline was compelled to wait awhile before taking action because another fierce contraction seized the woman who strained, grunted, and bit hard on the treated stick, failing once more to achieve victory. During those difficult minutes, Caroline recalled she had been told that before Chumani joined Wind Dancer, she had been a warrior and hunter for her people. Cloud Chaser had said the mate of his brother possessed much courage and prowess. Riding at her husband’s side against both Indian and white foes, she had done many glorious and daring deeds for his band, risking her life and captivity many times during those great adventures. Chumani had been honored with the name and rank of “Vision Woman,” for her coming and coups had been foretold in one of Nahemana’s sacred visions years ago; then, were fulfilled. Even so, Caroline observed that presently Chumani was shaky, pale, sweaty, weakened, fatigued, and frightened. She knelt between the woman’s parted and raised thighs, quelling embarrassment because the situation was serious. Indeed the top of the infant’s head was showing, which meant it was trapped in the birth canal and had been so for a long time. “I must use my hand to learn what is wrong, but I will be careful,”
she told Chumani, who nodded permission and braced herself.