Lakota Flower (25 page)

Caroline barely saw and heard what the Red Shields did and said; her gaze was locked on Wastemna’s bloody body and her mind was trying to convince her she was not to blame for that tragedy.

Chumani placed an arm around her waist. “Do not feel bad, my friend, for evil must destroy itself or it must be destroyed. You did what is good and right. We thank you.”

After Hanmani and Wind Dancer confirmed Chumani’s words, Caroline nodded acceptance of them; yet, her heart remained troubled. She grimaced as she saw Wind Dancer extract the knife from Wastemna’s chest and return it to Runs Fast, who stared at the blood upon the metal blade—a white man’s weapon, one perhaps stolen during a raid or taken from an enemy during a battle, perhaps by his traitorous son. She saw Runs Fast shift his narrowed gaze to her and glare at her in hatred and derision, as if she were to blame for his offspring’s malice and impending death. Yet, she realized he was a loving father in torment, a self-deluded parent. For a few moments, she had a longing to apologize for causing his anguish and to offer him sympathy, but knew that was unwise and would be scorned and rejected.

As Macha coaxed her away from the grim scene and the man’s rancor, Caroline wished War Eagle were there to give her comfort. She needed his strength and gentleness, his infusion of courage, and his persuasion of innocence. She needed to know if her “bravery and generosity” had changed anything in her existence. Yes, the Indians appreciated, respected, and accepted her as an obedient captive. But would they ever accept her as more, as War Eagle’s woman, his wife? Would her beloved ever desire and accept her in that role? What if Rising Bear and his people offered her freedom in payment for her good deeds? Could she leave, return to her brother and the white world? Could she plead to stay? If she left, she would lose War Eagle forever.
How can you lose,
her mind challenged,
what you do not possess?
Then her heart replied,
But there is no chance of winning him if you are gone. Stay, even if you must insist on it, at least until he returns and rejects you.

One of those same thoughts had entered Rising Bear’s mind. He asked Wind Dancer inside his son’s tepee, “Should we release the white woman? For she has done many good deeds among us and has a good heart.”

“I do not know, Father. What do you say, my wife?”

Chumani, who suspected romantic feelings between Caroline and War Eagle, told them, “I say it is bad to free her in this season when danger and war threaten us and our lands,”
and before War Eagle returns and can speak a claim on her, if my perceptions are true.
“If her brother rides with the white war chief to challenge all Lakotas, she would be alone at the fort and have no protection from the cravings of wicked soldiers. If he is slain in battle, the same is true, for she has no other family. She could face much peril and even death if our allies attacked the fort where she is taken. She is our friend and helper, so we must protect her until peace comes and she can be freed to join her brother if he still
lives,”
and if she so desires and does not become the mate of your brother and son.

Rising Bear nodded. “Dewdrops speaks wise and true, my son.”

Wind Dancer added. “It is so, Father. I say we wait until the Great Spirit sends us a sign that it is time to free her. We will honor her with gifts and praise to show our gratitude for her deeds.”

“When should the ceremony take place?” the chief asked.

“After Red Wolf returns in victory. We will honor both at the same feast.”

“So it shall be. My wife and three daughters will plan the feast. Nahemana will do the ceremony. We wait for Red Wolf’s return.”

Chumani smiled and nodded in agreement, knowing the chief referred to her and Macha as daughters because they were joined to his sons. She was filled with elation and pleasure, and knew what her gift would be…

Shortly before dusk, one of the lookouts galloped into camp and alerted the chief and band to Red Wolf’s advance. A crowd gathered fast to meet him upon his arrival. The Cheyenne warrior—one of the Fire Hearts’ elite Dog Men—halted his mount before the large group. In one hand, he held the leather thong of Two Feathers’ horse, the Red Shield’s body lying across the animal’s back.

“It is done, Rising Bear. I did not attack him from hiding; he was slain in a fair fight with hands and knives. He rode fast and hard until his horse could travel no more. He halted for my challenge, for he knew I chased him. I bring his body home for his family to tend and his passing to mourn. Do you want me to leave your camp and wait for War Eagle’s return in another place nearby? I want to hear what he has learned of our white enemy so I can take those words to my father and people.”

“You have done a brave and kind and generous deed for us, Red Wolf of the Cheyenne, friend of my third son. Stay, eat, sleep in my tepee. Allow us to honor you and Caroline on the next moon with a feast and ceremony.”

Red Wolf—who also carried
vehoe
blood from his mother—glanced at the white woman nearby, and noticed War Eagle’s sister, who was standing close to her, and out of his reach forever… He looked at the chief and said, “You have spoken, Rising Bear, and so it shall be. I thank you.”

Caroline lowered her head slightly to sneak a peek at Hanmani’s face. She surmised that the girl was trying to behave as if the visitor was nothing more to her than her brother’s friend.

As if Hanmani realized her gaze was lingering too long and intensely on the Cheyenne Dog Soldier, she focused on her father. If she wasn’t mistaken, Caroline mused, War Eagle’s sister was enchanted by his good friend, but feared to reveal those feelings. Caroline sympathized, as she knew how it felt to have a man out of reach.

As a somber Runs Fast and Pretty Meadow guided their son’s horse toward their tepee to prepare the body to place upon a death scaffold at sunrise for the forces of nature to reclaim, Caroline returned to Macha’s tepee to eat and sleep. Tomorrow was an important—and intimidating—day for her, perhaps a fate-changing or destiny-fulfilling one…

As she lay upon her buffalo mat, Caroline had difficulty getting to sleep. Her mind kept going over recent events and trying to place them in their proper perspective. She could hardly believe she was to be honored by the Indian band that held her captive.

What should she wear to the ceremony? The blue cotton dress was simple but pretty, and was clean though wrinkled from the lack of an iron and a little faded from use. At least her hair and body were clean since she and Macha had taken
care of those tasks this morning in a mountain stream whose water was becoming chillier by the week as autumn progressed toward winter.

She wished War Eagle were there to observe this special occasion, this vindication of his past decision to capture her. Although she had spent little time with him, she missed him terribly. She missed her brother, too.

Oh, David, if you could see me now, what would you think and feel and say about these enormous changes in me? Would you be understanding or disappointed and angry? Please, Heavenly Father, let him be safe and alive, and find some way to let him know I am too. He lost Mama and Papa without having the opportunity to say good-bye to them, so don’t let him suffer because of my disappearance. He’s probably wishing I had stayed in the South and blaming himself for asking me to come here.

As that last thought entered her head, Caroline could not suppress a grin in the darkness, though the light of a full moon overhead was beaming down from the ventilation spread. She easily could imagine what the rich, arrogant, and aristocratic William Crawford would think, say, and feel about the changes and situation. Surely he would believe, no matter what she swore on a Bible, that she had been defiled and was unworthy of him. Undoubtedly he would reject her even as a social companion, though probably not as a sexual dalliance. He probably would tell her it was her fault and she deserved an awful fate for refusing his marriage proposal and coming to a “wild and godforsaken land of savages.”

That couldn’t be further from the truth, you vain and lustful dandy. Even if I were still at home or somewhere close by, I would never marry you. I could only marry a man who makes me feel as War Eagle does.

Caroline closed her eyes and scolded herself for her wishful thinking.
Go to sleep,
she ordered herself,
or you’re going to look terrible tomorrow. You can’t change anything tonight, if ever. Just count your blessings for now.

* * *

Two hours before sunset on the following day, the Red Shields and the honorees gathered in a large open area between the forest and river. Before the ceremony began, a great feast was held, prepared by the chief’s family and numerous female helpers. Many foods were served: roasted or boiled camas bulbs and tasty tubers of other plants, various soups of meat or wild vegetables or a combination of them with wild onions and herbs for added flavor, breads made from willow or acorn flour with dried nuts and berries, dried fruits such as prickly pear and the egg-shaped buffalo berry, mature stem cores of fireweed, and assorted cooked or raw greens. Many hunters had provided the meats to be eaten—deer, antelope, turkey, and grouse—which were either roasted on wooden skewers or gently boiled in a small amount of water in trade kettles. Naturally buffalo was part of the meal, most of it in either dried strips called
pa-pa
or large rolls called
wakapanpi.

Caroline was familiar with most of the items offered, as she had helped gather and cook them on past days, but not on this one as an honoree. She also had helped prepare
wakapanpi
during the summer, the major source of their winter food supply. Sun and wind-dried strips of buffalo meat were pounded into a near-powder, mixed with dried berries and hot fat and sometimes dried nuts, allowed to cool, formed into rolls, and stored in leather parfleches. She had been told by Chumani that
wakapanpi
would last for years without spoiling if made and kept properly.

Caroline couldn’t help wondering what they would think about wheat flour, cornmeal, pork, chicken, coffee, tea, Crosby’s canned tomatoes, Winslow’s canned sweet corn, Reverend Graham’s crackers, Russell’s ice cream, cheese, rice, potatoes, homemade or store-bought canned goods, stoves with ovens, iceboxes, gaslights, and other discoveries of her people. She knew from Chumani that some had tasted sugar and liked it, but honey was their sweetener.

If they were not nomadic and determined to live in the old ways and resolved not to trade with her people, she could teach them how to plant, tend, and harvest vegetables; and how to raise and use domesticated animals and fowl. She could teach them how to store potatoes and onions for long periods, how to dry peas and beans, to can vegetables, and to dry fruits. She could teach them how to pickle, smoke, and salt-cure items. She could teach them how to use woodstoves for cooking and baking, which would be easier in the winter and would also warm their dwellings. Yet, she was certain they would not agree and her offer might insult them by falsely implying that her ways were better and theirs were primitive. Still, as more whites advanced on this area and settled in it and the Indians’ food supply was depleted, they would be forced to change or perish. When that day or year came and if she was still among them, she would make the offer.

Caroline halted her rambling thoughts. The women were finished spreading out the feast and it was time to begin.

After everyone was satisfied, Red Wolf and Caroline were called forward by the shaman. The people sat either on mats or on the grass in ever-widening circles to observe the event. First, Nahemana prayed to evoke the Great Spirit’s presence.

“We call to You, Creator, to look down and see us, to hear our words. We gather to honor two friends who have done good deeds for us. We thank You for Your many blessings and for giving them breath and for sending them to our camp. Guide and protect them in the suns and moons to come. Guide and protect all Red Shields in the dark season ahead. Hear us and see us, Great One, for we are Your children and we do Your will.”

Wind Dancer was called forward to do the “telling of Caroline’s coups” since she had come to live with them, which he did with ease and respect. Afterward, the war chief
Blue Owl related the coup of Naehonehe, son of the war chief Mahahkoe—Badger—of the Fire Hearts Cheyenne.

Then, Nahemana stood before Red Wolf and said, “We thank you for your good deed, Naehonehe.” After the warrior nodded, the shaman stepped before Caroline and said, “We thank you for your good deeds among us. From this sun forth, you will be called
Wahcawi,
for your yellow hair.”

Caroline was astonished to receive the Indian name of Sunflower. Her heart filled with joy and pride. She smiled and nodded to the elderly man whose gaze and manner were gentle, though there was an odd gleam in his age-beclouded eyes and a half grin that implied concealed amusement.

Rising Bear came forward and presented Red Wolf with gifts from his band: a bow, a quiver of unmarked arrows, and several prime hides and furs.

The warrior slowly turned in a circle as he told the group, “Thank you for these gifts and for honoring me on this sun, my friends and allies.”

Rising Bear turned to his wife and nodded a signal to her. Winona stood before Caroline and secured a small quilled rosette in her blond hair, with a red-tailed hawk feather, which dangled to her shoulder. The chief said, “It is a medicine wheel with a sky warrior’s feather; it is a sign of your coup for saving the lives of my son and second daughter.”

Caroline was speechless. She knew the significance of the item, an almost sacred symbol, for Chumani possessed one for her past deeds. She looked at the parents of her secret love and said,
“Pilamaya,”
in a voice hoarsened by deep emotion, pride, and joy. Those emotions increased as Hanmani presented her with a lovely Indian dress worn only once, as they were about the same size. Zitkala, Chumani’s best friend and one of the vision-quest riders, gave her a belt for saving Dewdrops’ life. Dawn gave her a small drawstring pouch to suspend from it, an Indian purse. Nahemana gave her a medicine pouch containing many healing herbs and “magic tokens.” His wife, Little Turtle, gave her a scraper of
buffalo bone with a leather-wrapped handle for removing fat from hides and furs. Others gave her hides and furs for making garments, wristbands, a sitting mat, two blankets, several storage pouches for her belongings, teeth and claws from animals to use as decorations, and other items. As people handed her gifts of gratitude, she smiled and thanked them.