Bittersweet Ecstasy (44 page)

The detail to Fort Meade was ready to leave at dawn, a day earlier than planned, but General Cooper
changed his mind. He decided it might be best if the detail traveled at night, for surely those sly Indians were waiting nearby to slaughter more of his soldiers and had perhaps learned of this mission as they had learned about his secret camp. Until he could figure out how they were getting their information, he must be extra careful and cunning. If the detail left during the night when the Indians were sleeping, they should reach the next fort safely. From there, he planned to send messages to the other forts in this territory. He would use one of Gray Eagle’s tricks; he would band the soldiers together and attack each camp in massive numbers and without warning, by making certain no clues were leaked to them. The more Indians they killed, the fewer were left to reunite to battle them. He knew his conflict was with the aggressive warriors and, at this point in his thoughts and command, he hated the idea of destroying camps filled with women and children and old folks; but it was necessary to end this bloody clash, and he was determined to do so and quickly. The warriors were to blame, for they were leaving him no choice…

The Oglalas enthusiastically gathered in the center of camp and waited for the Sacred Bow ritual/race to begin, for it was believed to yield powerful medicine for war and for peace. The sweat lodge had been prepared, and those involved had entered it earlier to purify themselves. Four posts, one representing each direction of the Medicine Wheel, were set in place beyond the circle of tepees and decorated with sacred symbols. The runners, including Sun Cloud, left the sweat lodge and allowed the shaman’s helpers to paint their bodies with the Medicine Bow colors and designs; then they gathered around the starting point which faced west.
When the ceremonial chief gave the signal, the sacred race would be underway. Each man was to run to each post, seize an object from it, then race for the next one. The winner would be the man who returned to the ceremonial chief first and handed him the four tokens which he had collected. If a camp was large, as was the Oglala, the lengthy race called upon all of a man’s stamina and strength to run it, and especially to win it.

The ceremonial chief raised his hands, as did the participants, to evoke the spirits and powers which were a part of this ritual. Those of the lightning, wind, thunder, and hail were summoned. Those of the snake and bear, representing striking speed and strength, were summoned. The spirits of the air were summoned. Prayers were chanted.

The runners began to perform a special dance, dressed only in breechcloths. Their bodies were painted with designs which sent forth a message to the spirits and powers and depicted their purpose to those who observed this ceremony. The four sacred bows, four staffs, and four clubs were placed near the ceremonial chief, to be reclaimed by those who proved during this ritual that they deserved their ranks.

The ceremonial chief signaled for the race to begin. All tribe members fell silent, as this was a religious rite, not a sport or contest to be cheered. The runners raced westward, then back to touch the center pole, then raced eastward and back to the center pole, then southward and northward to complete this seasonal challenge. Sun Cloud handed the ceremonial chief his collected tokens first, then Night Rider and Thunder Spirit finished their race almost simultaneously, with Rising Elk and the other eight men following suit, one at a time. The twelve runners entered the sweat lodge once more to complete the last part of this ceremony with a final purification rite, rubbing their sweaty
bodies with sweet and sage grasses afterward.

Although the Sun Dance was normally held after the buffalo hunt and when other bands joined them to perform this ceremony together, Mind-who-Roams had called for it to be carried out today, for his vision two days ago had commanded it in order to give the Oglalas special powers and guidance before they faced the bluecoats once more, and Indians always obeyed such divine commands.

Usually it was a twelve-day ritual which was divided into three periods of four-day events. The first four days were a time for feasting, to celebrate their recent and hopefully successful buffalo hunt, to show their unity, and to meet and talk with friends and family who had joined them for this special occasion. During this time, the shaman selected and instructed his helpers for the upcoming ritual, which included several high-ranking women to carry out the honored task of chopping down the sacred cottonwood tree for the Sun Dance pole.

During the next four days, the ceremonial dancers were chosen and instructed. All warriors knew these dances, but only those selected by the shaman could perform them during this ritual. The dancers met every day in the sacred lodge to practice each movement to make certain no errors were made and to be assigned the particular designs to be painted upon their bodies when their part in this ritual arrived.

The final four days were the most important, as the preparations for the Sun Dance would be completed. On day one, a warrior was chosen to locate a sturdy and straight cottonwood tree around thirty feet tall and with a fork at its top, which he marked with the appropriate symbol. Upon his return to camp, the Buffalo Dance was done. Any warrior could participate, using a buffalo bull’s skull which was painted in a
special pattern with its openings stuffed with buffalo grass. The symbols, chosen and painted by the shaman, all dealt with the powers and forces of the sky: rain, hail, lightning, and wind.

On day two of this period, the female assistants located the tree which had been marked by the warrior yesterday, then summoned the tribe to watch them chop it down and carry it back to camp. On day three, the sacred cottonwood tree was prepared; its bark was stripped, and sacred symbols were painted and carved upon it. When it was placed in the center of camp, the warriors danced around it.

On day four, the chosen dancers were painted and prepared, for they were to dance and blow eagle-bone whistles throughout the Sun Dance, a feat which required and used much energy and stamina.

The men who had chosen to endure this ceremony gathered in the sweat lodge and purified themselves. There were several degrees of participation which a man could choose from, depending upon what he needed to say or accomplish with his action. Some men worked their way up to the final feat of sacrifice, and some chose the highest degree of difficulty and danger from the start. The lowest task was for men who only danced and chanted around the sacred pole for as long as they could move and speak. Others allowed tiny pieces of their flesh to be removed and placed at the base of the sacred pole. Others allowed their bodies to be pierced on their chest muscles and secured by thongs to the sacred pole, from which they were required to pull free. The Sun Dance did not end until all participants either pulled free, died trying, or had to yield defeat.

For those who chose the piercing, there were two ways to accomplish their tasks: they could stand on the ground, stretch the attached thongs tight, then sway to
and fro while blowing on eagle-bone whistles and trying to pull free; or they could be lifted into the air to hang suspended until their flesh gave away and released them. This last method was the most difficult and painful, and was rarely chosen; the last man who had attempted it and succeeded was Gray Eagle in 1805 when, at fifty-four, he had sought to prove he was still worthy to lead his people after his recovery from the Crow wound which had returned Bright Arrow to his people after his six-year exile.

Those who participated in the Sun Dance did so for themselves and for their people, for it summoned the blessings and guidance and protection of the Great Spirit and it declared their gratitude for all He had given to them and done for them.

This Sun Dance was different. The pole had been located and prepared, but the other parts of the ceremony would not be carried out this time. The men who had decided to participate had met in the sweat lodge to purify themselves and to choose which part of the ritual they would endure today. Those who had been dancers before were quickly reinstructed and painted, and they went to perform their task.

The tribe gathered around as the warriors left the sweat lodge and approached the shaman, each one revealing what part he would attempt. One by one, Mind-who-Roams prepared the men. Only three warriors chose to submit to the piercing, but standing on the ground. The last man stepped forward, selecting the lifted position: Sun Cloud.

Mind-who-Roams and his friends worriedly reminded him of the strenuous task Which he had just completed an hour ago, including two draining purification rites in the sweat lodge, which had caused most of the red and blue water-based body paints to wash away. The yellow oil-based designs on his face
which represented stars and lightning bolts had smudged slightly, but were still noticeable.

Touched by their concern, Sun Cloud smiled at his friends and said, “It is the will of Grandfather; it is my season to obey. As my father did fifteen winters past, I must be lifted up in sacrifice.”

“But you are tired and weak from your race and purifications,” Thunder Spirit protested, for he knew how fatigued he was and he knew how difficult and perilous the Sun Dance was, especially this part.

Sun Cloud clasped his friend’s arm and said, “It must be. I am ready,” he announced to the shaman and faced him, placing his hands behind his body and sticking his chest forward as he gazed at the sun.

The shaman took the sacred knife and made two slices half an inch apart on Sun Cloud’s left breast, causing blood to seep forth and ease down his bronzed abdomen. Using an eagle’s clawed foot, he forced one of the sharp talons through the sensitive underflesh, then pulled on it to lift the severed section from the warrior’s chest to allow a ten-inch thong to follow its path. He repeated the procedure on Sun Cloud’s right breast, and was pleased when the young warrior never grimaced or flinched. He gave Sun Cloud a peyote button to be eaten later to seek his vision, but after most of his ordeal. The holy man tied the two thongs to rawhide ropes which were hanging from the fork of the sacred pole, then called three men forward to raise Sun Cloud into the air and to secure the rope ends tightly to the base of the pole.

As the men lifted him, the thongs yanked upon his tender flesh and sent radiating pain through his chest and neck and arms. As he was pulled higher, the men’s movements sent agony charging through his body and mind and he felt as if he were being torn apart. At last, the jarring ordeal was complete and he was suspended
three feet from the ground by his protesting flesh. He had never imagined pain could be this enormous, but it was. He could not understand how, with his heavy weight pulling on them, the severed sections of flesh held fast to his chest and he hoped they would tear free soon, though he was aware this excruciating ritual could take hours or all day. In fierce resolve to hold silent and to grasp victory, Sun Cloud recalled his instructions and his father’s Sun Dance. Ignoring his agony, he arched his back and left his arms hang loosely at his sides. He stared at the sun and blew on his whistle, each inhalation and exhalation increasing his torment.

There was no turning back; the sacrificial ritual was underway, so it was onward to victory or defeat or truce. The steady beat of the kettle drums was heard along with prayers and chanting. The other participants blew on their whistles as all involved began their bittersweet tasks as they mentally searched for savage ecstasy.

Hours passed and the men’s agonies increased. Many were consumed by a fear of defeat, and prayed for the determination to endure and succeed. Some could not help but cry out as flesh was ripped apart or staggering pain shot through them as they attempted to pull free to end this self-inflicted torment. Blood ran down stomachs and soaked breechcloths, their only garments. The movements of bare feet caused dust to rise and swirl about in the wind created by them. Some would slacken the ropes to rest a moment before straining upon them once more. Even after one side of a man’s torso was freed, the other seemingly resisted freedom more than the first. Clearly all of the men were becoming exhausted; some had fainted from pain or fatigue, some to regain consciousness and begin the ordeal once more.

Bright Arrow watched his brother submit to what he knew from experience was excruciating pain; yet, Sun Cloud’s expression and behavior did not expose what he was suffering. A new sense of respect and awe filled Bright Arrow as he observed his brother’s courage and stamina. At first, he had been angry with Sun Cloud for attempting two perils and challenges on the same day, then jealous at how his brother was succeeding with them. Slowly those forbidden emotions lessened and vanished, for he knew Sun Cloud was obeying Grandfather. His gaze went to the red bandana which Sun Cloud had tied around his neck, the one which had belonged to the slayer of their father. The air seemed charged with a strange force, and Bright Arrow felt it.

The heat and humidity made May seventh an unusually oppressive day, and the men’s bodies glistened with moisture. The ritual dancers halted one by one and took their seats. The men who had been pierced all freed themselves, collapsed to the ground, and were helped to their mats to be tended and refreshed.

Only Sun Cloud remained at the Sun Dance pole. Everything and everyone was silent, but for the kettle drums and Sun Cloud’s whistle. It did not appear as if his taut flesh had yielded in the least. Yet, blood slipped around his sides to saturate the back of his breechcloth. He hung limply as if he would either die or fail at this awesome task. When he wiped the beads of moisture from the humidity and his profuse sweating from his face, it caused the yellow markings to alter their shapes, to form dots and strips which could not be seen by those beneath his suspended body due to the backward angle of his head.

Suddenly his tongue shoved the whistle from his mouth and he lifted his arms skyward, calling out, “Hear me, Grandfather; Sun Cloud and his people
need your help and guidance. Speak to us. Send us a sign.” He placed the peyote button in his mouth and consumed it, for he had endured this ordeal long enough to prove he was not fleeing it.