Thunder Rolling in the Mountains (4 page)

I drank the water. Swan Necklace had changed. He was fierce for war. If I'd had a guardian spirit, I'd have thanked it on my knees.

"Bullets," said Swan Necklace.

Beyond the lake I caught a glimpse of my father
and Ollokot in their black eagle blankets, riding slowly toward our camp. Swan Necklace saw them, too.

"Hurry," he shouted. "My friends are waiting. They're also out of bullets. We have powder but we need bullets."

My father and Ollokot rode at a gallop. They had heard the news of the killing from someone.

"Hurry," Swan Necklace shouted again.

I ran fast to the dpi, took the bullets from their hiding place, and hung them on his shoulder. They weighed him down.

Chief Joseph and Ollokot came out of the trees and up the trail. They galloped to where we stood. They looked grim.

"We have heard that you have killed white men," Ollokot said to Swan Necklace.

"We did," he answered. "We killed two."

"Killing I feared," Chief Joseph said. "It's what I have fought against since the beginning."

"It's war," Ollokot said.

"A war we cannot win," my father said.

He pointed a finger at Swan Necklace. "Remember this, young warrior. None of the soldiers will be scalped. Not one. Remember this yourself and tell what I say to your friends."

Swan Necklace tried not to flinch. He was standing beside the two most powerful men in the tribe. His
carbine was stuffed under one shoulder. He looked like a soldier but I think he wanted to run.

Warriors had gathered at the lake and built a fire. Two Moons rode among them, leading the roan horse that had belonged to one of the white men. He called to his son. He held a red jacket above his head.

Swan Necklace rode to his father's side. He took the jacket and put it on. Then he shook his rifle. A cheer went up.

"It is time to fight," said Two Moons. "We will be children no more."

"We will never go to Lapwai," Ferocious Bear said through closed teeth. "Let the soldiers know we will kill them all."

Women began to take down the tipis. Our camp was unprotected, and the soldiers would soon be upon us.

"No!" shouted Joseph. "Let us stay here until the army comes. We will make some kind of peace with them."

But no one listened.

T
HAT NIGHT
our warriors were called. The old men and women packed their few things. At midnight we left our camp and started south for White Bird Canyon, the home of White Bird's band. At dawn on the fifth day, we came to the crest of a canyon of brush and rock. This was White Bird Canyon, a place where we could stay while we decided whether to fight or flee. We knew the land and our chiefs thought it was the safest place to camp.

"If the whites follow," said Too-hul-hul-sote, "we hide and shoot them down as fast as they come."

Streams ran through the big canyon. Water trickled against stone walls. Beyond us on the cliff we posted a warrior to watch for the soldiers. All that day and all that night we waited. My father did not sleep.

At the first gray light a scout rode into our camp. "Soldiers coming close," he called. "Many soldiers."

My father rose swiftly. He spoke with the other
chiefs. "We must not shoot first," he said. "Maybe they come with good hearts." Ollokot agreed.

The chiefs sent out a truce party. Five warriors rode to meet the soldiers. One of them carried a white flag to say that we did not wish war. The other young men waited on their horses, hidden behind the buttes.

From our camp, we heard a bugle. Then a rifle spoke. The lone shot echoed against the stone walls. There was a long silence, then the sound of guns. A warrior rode into a streak of daylight on the crest of the canyon. He waved his bow above his head.

"War!" he shouted. "The soldiers fired on our white flag."

"Here we stand!" Ollokot shouted. "We go no farther. First we die, then we die again." Ollokot, with his good plans and bravery in battle, was our most cunning chieftain.

Chief Joseph disagreed. "We should hide until night and then slip away. There are too many soldiers. They will kill half our family." My father always thought of his clan first. There were not many of us.

Ollokot divided the warriors and sent them along the hillside. I watched them go, dodging behind the huge stones. I watched Swan Necklace. He rode with the other Red Coats, no longer afraid to fight. My heart beat proudly. I wanted to ride with him.

Instead I took a group of children into a sheltered place beside the creek, where we could play games
and forget the bullets flying on the other side of the butte. We held contests to see which ones could hold their breath longest. I smoothed off a flat rock and some of the boys spun tops, making them dance across its surface.

Red Owl, Ollokot's son, started a game of wolf. He pretended to be a wolf and the other children pretended to be calves who had strayed from their mothers. He crept behind the bushes along one side of our sheltered place. The other children pretended to be grazing while they waited for his attack.

But Red Owl did not burst out of the bushes to frighten the others. Time passed. I moved quietly to the bushes and looked over them. There was no one to be seen. Red Owl was gone.

I put one of the older girls in charge of the little ones and began to look for him. I knew he had left to watch the battle. Red Owl had seen only seven snows, but he itched to be with the warriors.

I climbed the butte. Lying on my stomach, I looked across the battlefield. Horses were running in every direction. I saw one horse—its saddle stained with blood—dragging a Blue Coat whose foot was caught in the stirrup. Crossing a low ridge in the distance was Red Owl. Five horse lengths in front of him lay a dead Blue Coat. Beside his outstretched hand was a shining bugle.

I called Red Owl, but he did not stop. He wanted
the bugle for his own. As he reached it, our warriors mounted a charge. They rode past the bugler, and Red Owl was lost from view.

Heedless of gunfire, I flew down the butte. When I reached Red Owl, I dropped to the ground beside him. He had taken cover behind the bugler's body. He was afraid to move. So many bullets struck around us that my eyes smarted from the dust.

As our warriors' bullets and arrows found their mark, the battle moved away. The shouts and gunfire grew faint. Red Owl raised his head and grinned at me. The bugle was clutched tightly in his fist.

I got to my feet and grabbed his arm. My heart still beat fast. "Foolish child!" I said, as my fear turned to anger. "You will be the death of us."

His face grew solemn and he was quiet as we walked back to the camp. He would not be so boastful in front of the others. It was bad enough that the children would admire Red Owl's daring. I did not want them to copy his pranks.

At last the battle ended. We were badly outnumbered, but Ollokot drove our warriors. He made them believe that they were truly fighting for their lands and lives and gods. None of our people was killed, and only two warriors were wounded. By nightfall we had forced every Blue Coat to flee, and thirty-four white soldiers lay dead upon the ground.

There would be more battles with the Blue Coats,
Chief Joseph promised. "They will follow us. We cannot hide. They will find us wherever we go."

Looking Glass said that we must cross the mountains and travel to the land of the Crows. Howard could not bring his big guns over the mountains. We could live in peace with the Crows and hunt buffalo. The other chiefs agreed.

My father was not happy. "This is your fight, not mine," he said. "I will look after the women and children and old men. You must keep the soldiers away."

We left White Bird Canyon and the beaten soldiers. I felt like singing. My pony stepped lively through the grass. Flowers were blooming under the oaks and huckleberries. I rode in the gray dust with the children, behind all the old people.

I made a doll for my baby sister with a piece of a soldier's shirt. The youngest Joseph, nephew of Old Joseph, had found a soldier's knife and was chasing Red Owl. My small cousin had a pair of soldier's heavy boots and asked me to cut off their tops and make a purse out of them.

Beside me rode White Feather, who had watched me shoot the copper pan from the white woman's hands. She was a year older than I. "Are you pleased?" she asked. "The warriors have won and your father has lost."

"I am pleased," I said. "We have beaten the Blue Coats. If they follow us, we will beat them again."

There was a whoop from the children. Young Joseph had caught Red Owl and was sticking him in the chest. I took the knife away from him and when I came back Swan Necklace was riding with White Feather. My pony fell in beside them.

"Were you frightened?" I asked Swan Necklace.

"Just at first," he said. "Then I knew that my guardian spirit would keep me safe. Wah-lit-its and Red Moccasin Tops rode beside me. We charged the soldiers. Two Moons and the other warriors followed. Many of them had only knives or bows." His eyes sparkled as he told of the battle.

"The bullets sang like bees around us, but no one was hit," he said. "We hung to the side of our horses where the Blue Coats could not see us and shot from beneath the neck. Our guns and arrows found their mark. The soldiers stopped shooting. Their horses went wild and tossed them on the ground. They dropped their guns and ran for their lives."

I clapped my hands with joy.

"I have plenty of bullets now," said Swan Necklace. "And all the warriors have rifles. The soldiers won't need them anymore."

W
E FOUGHT
the white soldiers again on the banks of the rushing Clearwater. This time many Blue Coats died and we lost four warriors. Six other of our young men were hit, but only one had a bad wound. A soldier's bullet went in the back of his shoulder and came out through his chest. He was shot when he rode his horse close to the Blue Coats to show he was a brave man. But he was strong and continued to fight.

More than a moon had passed since the battle at White Bird Canyon. The soldiers still followed, but we moved fast, so fast we had to leave our cattle behind.

Looking Glass took us out of the valley and high into the mountains. We traveled toward the rising sun and the country of the Crows. The way was hard. Spruce, hemlock, and pine grew close. The trail was narrow and dark. It twisted up the steep mountainside. Boulders choked the path and sharp rocks cut
the horses' feet. Trees felled by spring storms blocked the way.

At night we camped. We lived on roots we dug from the ground and bark we peeled from the trees. When cooked in water, the bark made a soft mush that filled the stomach. Some nights we went to bed hungry. The ponies grazed on the bushes and stiff wiregrass.

Five of our warriors stayed behind to scout the back trail for soldiers. The Red Coats scouted the trail ahead. My heart was with them, but I helped dig roots, pound bark, and care for the children. Bending Willow now smiled when lifted from her cradleboard.

It rained every day. As we neared the top of the pass, the path grew steeper. Here it was so narrow that we had to get off our horses and lead them. We pressed against the mountain, moving slowly along the edge of the cliff on a carpet of pine needles. Far below us, a stream wound between rock walls. The trail was slippery, but none of our ponies stumbled.

At last we reached the summit and started down the other side of the pass. The rain stopped and the sun came out. We reached a place beside a creek where hot springs came out of the ground. Steam rose from the rocks. Where the water boiled out it was so hot you could not keep your finger in it. We bathed in shallow pools below the rocks where the water was not so hot. We stayed in the water until we could no
longer bear its heat. Then we ran to the creek and plunged into the cold current. The water washed away our weariness.

That day our tipis stood in the high grass. Bushes that grew here made good tea, and we gathered leaves to take with us. There were so many fish in the stream that we called it Salmon Creek. We would have a good meal that night. Water lilies grew in small ponds nearby, and after I washed my hair I twisted a white flower into each braid. I thought the lilies would make a pretty design for moccasins.

As I thought about where I could get some soft deerskin and porcupine quills, the Red Coats rode noisily into camp. Wah-lit-its drew up beside the men who were mending bridles.

"Soldiers in front of us!" he said. He was out of breath and had to rest between words. "Building fort! They will head us off."

Swan Necklace rode to my side and slipped off his horse. "There is danger," he said. He drew me close to him. "The soldiers know our camp. They have drawn logs across the trail so that we cannot pass. They are building a fort. We may have to fight."

"This time I will fight, too," I said. "There are many guns now. I know how to shoot."

Swan Necklace shook his head, "Your father would never permit it," he said. "Fighting is for warriors." He forgot that only two moons ago, he had been a
painter and I had possessed the gun. He never spoke of his colored earths now, and he had not painted on our marriage blanket since we left Wallowa.

"Fighting is for those who would stand against the white soldiers," I said.

Before I could say more, the chiefs left the camp to meet the soldiers, taking the Red Coats with them. Looking Glass, White Bird, and Chief Joseph rode in front. My father carried a white flag. Swan Necklace, Red Moccasin Tops, and Wah-lit-its followed behind, in case the Blue Coats opened fire.

It was dark when the peace party returned. The people crowded about them. They heard how our chiefs had stepped off their ponies and walked up to the barricade with empty hands, leaving their guns on their saddles. The soldiers were surprised at their courage, and no one shot at them.

"We told the chief of the Blue Coats that we had only friendship for the people of Montana," said Looking Glass. The firelight flickered on his strong face. "Our quarrel is with the soldiers in Idaho. The white captain shook our hands, but told us we must lay down our guns and give up our horses."