Lakota Winds (Zebra Historical Romance) (38 page)

Chumani and the other women spread out and began work on the
huge carcasses, after seeking and finding the first one with her husband's
marked arrows embedded in its body. Using sharp knives, she and
Zitkala skinned the animal-its hide to supply many needs-and gutted
it. They carved out the selected hunks of meat and placed them on the
hide. They collected the horns, hooves, and certain bones to use for
cups, spoons, knives, and glue. The tongue, liver, and tail were removed.
The stomach and bladder were cut out to become water bags. The task
was a long, and a bloody one. They saw air and land scavengers looming
overhead and lurking at a short distance to await their turns at the
kill, which would complete the buffalo's circle-of-life and purpose for
creation.

They secured the large bundle with sturdy thongs, signaled a brave
with an empty travois it was ready for removal, and headed toward
their next target after helping him load it and watching his departure
for camp.

As they labored on their second beast, Chumani heard the awesome
sounds of the wasicuns'firesticks and saw a large band of Crow warriors
charging toward the left side of the giant herd. Her gaze widened in
horror as she realized an attack was imminent. The grazing buffaloes
halted their feast; those in wallows bounded to their feet swiftly; the
males gathered around the females and calves; and the cows nudged
their babies closer to them. The leading bulls assumed stances of intimidation to warn off the encroachers. Soon they realized they were being
challenged to a fight.

Chumani saw the massive heads of the male buffaloes jerk upward
and thrash about, as prelude to their bellows of rage. Some pawed the
ground in warning. Their skinny tails shot upward and arched over at
the fuzzy tips before straightening. Then the enormous and infuriated
animals began to run, their hooves striking the earth in a thunderous
noise. At most times, the beasts would rush past anyone-or anythingin its path without inflicting harm. But when they were provoked to such panic and crowded close together, they would trample any intruder.
Antelope and scavenging coyotes fled toward safety, as did birds, insects,
and rabbits. Prairie dogs scurried into their burrows, their barks masked
by pounding hooves. Chumani's frantic gaze searched for her husband
and saw him racing toward the commotion. She realized he was challenging their foes to cease their provocation. She wanted to keep her eyes
on him, but knew the best thing she and Zitkala could do was crouch
behind the carcass they had been working on. They would hope and
pray the stampeding herd heading for them evaded them.

As the Oglala and Brule hunters sought to turn the herd from where
the women worked, they tried to avoid the beasts' sharp horns and head
rammings. They knew that the rumbling force would continue to race
over hills and flat areas in a direct line with their joint encampment.

Wind Dancer saw Raven's horse trip and fall, then lie still, no doubt
with a broken neck. With several Crow bearing down on the vulnerable
warrior, one of their four Sacred Bow Carriers, he had no choice except
to attempt a rescue. His code of honor as a warrior and a friend and
his ranks of Shirt Wearer and Strong Heart member demanded he do
so. He galloped toward the man who now stood facing his oncoming
threat, a hunting bow and a few remaining arrows his only weapons,
as his Sacred Bow was used only during warfare and rituals and was
safe in camp.

As Wind Dancer almost reached the downed man, he shouted for
Raven to be ready to leap up behind him, a rescue action all Oglala
warriors practiced frequently. He held his bow and tether in one hand
and extended the other for his friend to seize in a hurry so Raven could
swing up behind him and they could flee their enemies fast. He was
stunned when the Crow attackers fired many arrows and slew his beloved
buffalo horse. The dead animal toppled to the ground and sent Wind
Dancer tumbling into the tall and thick grass, knocking the air from
his lungs and the bow from his grasp. Before he could recover, he was
shocked again when-by order of their leader-three Birdmen took
the life of Raven in a cowardly manner.

As he leapt to his feet and struggled to breathe, Wind Dancer found himself encircled by Apsaalooke wearing warpaint and fierce glares. He
knew it was foolish to grab for the knife in his sheath, as two foes had
arrows pointing at him and would send their tips into his hand, he
could not risk a disabling injury to it. He straightened himself to his
full height and assumed a spread-legged stance of defiance and confidence. His chest was extended to reveal his scorn and courage, as did
his expression. His ebony hair whipped about in the wind and his dark
gaze locked on the band's grinning leader as he awaited his own death.

Wind Dancer was not afraid to die; he would do so with honor and
courage. He would complete his Life-Circle with a generous sacrifice,
even though Raven was dead. He firmly believed that if his journey
upon the face of Mother Earth ended this day, it would be the will of
Wakantanka and there would be a purpose for his death which only
the Great Mystery knew. The only regrets he had were leaving his family
and people to battle their enemies without his aid and being taken from
the arms of his beloved wife who would grieve terribly over his loss and
be compelled to achieve the sacred visionquest alone or with other
companions. He dared not let his attention stray by glancing toward
the hill behind him, but he was sure Chumani was watching this grim
event, as he sensed her powerful gaze and could almost hear her words
of love and encouragement inside his head as a soft whisper. The
thunderous noise of countless hooves told him the stampede was still
in progress, and he knew his wife and others were in the path of those
enraged buffaloes while he was unable to rescue her and help the other
hunters turn the massive herd away from their camp. Surrounded by
twelve foes who were armed and on horseback while he was afoot and
near weaponless, all he could do now was pray for the panicked animals
to calm soon, slow down, and change direction.

"You do not beg for your life, first son of Rising Bear?"

Wind Dancer did not show his surprise when the leader revealed he knew his identity or spoke in the Oglala tongue. He stared at the man
in contempt as he replied in his enemy's language, "That is not our
way, Crow dog, though it is yours when you face a superior force. Do
the Apsaalooke have so few coups and crave them so badly they attack
others without any show of honor? What coup lies in slaying a disabled
and entrapped man, as you did to my friend? What coup lies in slaying
one of the Great Spirit's creatures, as you did to my horse? Did you
stain your face with such evil and cowardice to prevent Wind Dancer
and Raven from fleeing you to battle you on another sun?" He knew
from the man's narrowed gaze and lift of his shoulders that he had
provoked him to anger. He knew his best chance for survival was in
working on the leader's excessive pride.

"The one who lies dead was of no value to us, but the next chief of
the Red Shields will feel the pains of our hatred and revenge. You will
die as slowly as the porcupine crawls. You will suffer and bleed as no
other captive ever has. We will find great joy and victory in slaying
Waci Tate."

"The son of Rising Bear does not die quickly or easily, Crow dog."

"I hope your words are true, but die you will, and long after you
crave to walk the Ghost Trail to end your sufferings and shame of defeat
to me."

"I challenge you to fight me to my death or to my freedom. Dismount
and we will learn who is the better warrior. I die or I go free."

"I do not accept your challenge to fight here," the Crow leader
sneered, "for many others must watch and enjoy that event."

Confident he could win a fight, Wind Dancer tried to trick his
truculent foe by ridiculing him. "Does your heart pound with such fear
and are your skills so few that you do not wish to face me man to
man?" he asked. "Do you need the help or encouragement of others
to defeat only one opponent? Is it not also the Apsaalooke way to allow
a brave warrior to earn his freedom?"

"Not when that captive is a large enemy of my people. I will show
great strength and wits in not battling you at this place and time. I will
show great generosity in allowing my people to see you die."

"Will you battle me one-to-one in your camp," Wind Dancer taunted,
or will you need the help of others when you confront me?"

"Sroka needs help from no friend or spirit to defeat a weakling
Sioux."

Wind Dancer glared at the pugnacious man whose face was painted
red and bore solid black circles to signify blood and death. He had
recognized Sroka, but had behaved as if the malevolent warrior was not
important enough to be recalled or feared by him. Their bands had
clashed during past raids and fought during tribal battles. He surmised
the Crow had named him a "Sioux," a white man's word for the
threefold Dakota Nation, as friend and foe were aware it was an insult.
"Crow dog, you walk and sniff behind the wasicun so much to beg for
his truce like a bone that you speak as he does. Have you forgotten
your people's name for us, Da-kkoo-tee?"

"I have forgotten nothing, Waci Tate, who is now my prisoner."

"Why do you attack while we hunt the buffalo?" Wind Dancer asked
to glean helpful information. "This is not the season to fight."

"If your people have no food or shelter or garments for winter, they
will starve and freeze and die. There will be fewer Da-kkoo-tee to battle
in the coming seasons, and soon this land will be ours as it was long
ago."

"If you sacrifice your suns and moons attacking us during the hot
season and do not use them preparing for winter, your people will die.
That is foolish, Sroka, and it is not the Indian way."

"No more talk. Mount behind Pariskatoopa and give him your knife.
We ride for our camp and your death. Do you fear to face it?"

Wind Dancer grinned. "I do not fear death, for it is a sacred part
of every man's Life-Circle. I am eager to fight you." He decided it was
best to cooperate at that point, for it would call away at least twelve
enemies from the band still harassing his people and it would keep him
alive to plot and carry out an escape. He relinquished his weapon, swung
up behind Two Crows as indicated, and said, "I am ready."

"Alaxiia Bilee, gather their weapons and take the medicine bundle and a scalplock of the fallen one to hang in my lodge. Soon I will show
all I have won the weapons and life of Waci Tate of the Oglalas."

As Fire-in-Heart obeyed Sroka's orders, the leader told his other men
to ride on either side and behind Wind Dancer and to wound him
with lance cuts if he tried to escape or to slow them down. He signaled
for the rest of his band to abandon their strike on the hunting party
and to follow them.

As they galloped away, Wind Dancer took a breath of relief to know
the enemy threat was over and the herd was quieting down. He realized
they would be long gone before a band of his warriors could arm
themselves, mount up, and pursue them. Yet, surely his father, despite
his anguish, would not allow an attack on a large and powerful Crow
camp to attempt to rescue him. Surely they would leave any escape plan
up to him.

Her spirits low and her heart pounding in dread as she lay atop a
knoll to avoid being sighted, Chumani watched her beloved husband
being carried away from her by a malicious foe, no doubt to face torture
and death. The large Crow party had broken off their attack and those
enemies now raced after the smaller band after being summoned by
Sroka, whose face pattern she also recognized. The charging herd had
been averted and now moved off in the distance, and their hunters were
returning. They and the women who had taken cover behind a hill with
Zitkala were safe. With the buffalo heading in the opposite direction, the
camp was safe, and by now might have been alerted to their peril by
one of the young braves with travois duty. Everyone was out of danger
except the man who was her life, her true love. Yet, as long as he was
alive, there was a slim chance of him escaping or being rescued.