Magnificent Guns of Seneca 6 (20 page)

Thathanka-Ska heard the commotion behind him and turned back to see his older brother and oldest friend fighting in the ground.
 
He called out for them to stop as he raced back, only to see both of them slapping and pawing at one other in a humongous pile of fresh destrier dung.
 
The boy clutched his sides and howled loud enough that both of them finally stopped hitting one another to stop and look.
 
Both of their eyes widened in horror at the clumps of feces tangled in their hair and squished within their fists.
 
They looked around in disbelief at the pool of waste covering their clothing, staring in mute horror at the filth covering the other's face.
 

The young boy called out, "If our enemies were looking for us, your smell would give us away before my blubbering!"
 
With that, he whipped his destrier around and raced into the distance, his laughter echoing across the flatlands.

By nightfall, they were gathered around a small fire.
 
They would have to camp in the open mesa, surrounded by miles and miles of empty terrain.
 
No trees to shadow their sleeping forms, not even boulders large enough to brace themselves against.
 
Lakhpia-sha and Haienwa'tha sat miserably on the ground, their bodies covered in dry dung that had baked onto them in the scorching sun.
 
Neither of them wanted to risk fouling their blankets.
 
Both of them knew it would be a long night on the cold ground.
 
"I will take the first watch," Haienwa'tha muttered.
 

Thathanka-Ska turned a small lizard over the open flame, watching its skin sizzle and roast.
 
He did not joke or poke fun at the other two.
 
In a demonstration of solidarity, he folded up his own blanket and put it back on his destrier.
 
He blew on the lizard's crinkled skin and bit it, savoring the crackling juices as he chewed.
 
"I like this better," he said.

"Better than what?" Haienwa'tha said.

"Better than being with the tribe.
 
I like being out on our own better than being stuffed into a tee pee with all our cousins, or watching some new Chief beg permission from all the women."

Lakhpia-Sha shook his head and said, "I don't.
 
The last time we did this, I wound up getting eaten by a werja."

Haienwa'tha looked sideways at his friend and said, "I wouldn't worry about that tonight.
 
You are completely safe from any animal."

"Why's that?"

"Because none of them like the taste of dung."
 
Haienwa'tha smiled and pointed at his younger brother, "But they absolutely love the taste of young, fresh meat.
 
You had better stay awake on your watch."

"All I can think about is being at home," Lakhpia-Sha said.
 
"The smell of frybread.
 
The drum circle.
 
Lucky for me, once I learn the medicine, I won't have to leave again."

"Except to hunt or go to war, right?" Haienwa'tha said.
 
"At least you'll get to still do that."

Lakhpia-Sha shrugged.
 
His voice was soft when he said, "Maybe.
 
If they need me, I guess."

"But you'd
want
to go.
 
Otherwise, you'd be no better than one of the council women, sitting around while the other warriors provided for you," Haienwa'tha said with a sneer.
 

Lakhpia-Sha looked at both of his friends with a weak smile, "Of course.
 
All the time."
 

There was a flicker of movement near the fire and Thathanka-Ska's hand shot out to snatch a lizard out of the shadows.
 
He spiked the squirming thing on his stick and passed it through the fire once, then twice.
 
"Who am I?" he said.

His older brother frowned and said, "I have no idea.
  
Who are you?"

Thathanka-Ska bounced the stick to make the lizard look like it was walking through the fire and said, "I'm the new Chief."
 

"Not funny," Haienwa'tha said.
 
He looked over and saw Lakhpia-Sha trying to cover a smile, which made both of them laugh.
 
The older boy collected himself first and said, "Do not encourage him."
 

"I heard that when a new werja becomes leader of the pack, he kills all of the sons of the old leader," Thathanka-Ska said.
 
"Even if they are babies."

"So?" Haienwa'tha said.

"I'm just saying."

"Well, we are not werja.
 
They are four-legged demons who eat their own feces," Haienwa'tha said.

"And we are two-legged hunters who cover ourselves in it, apparently."

"Enough!
 
The new Chief will be a brave, decisive warrior.
 
Thasuka-Witko said he would lead us to the new lands.
 
Or do you doubt our father's dying vision now, too?"

"Who said he'll be a warrior?" Lakhpia-Sha said.
 
"I think he will be a man of peace who teaches us new ways to grow crops, so that we no longer have to wander in the desert."

"That's ridiculous."

"Why is it ridiculous?"

"Because no one can lead if all he's interested in is gardening!"

The boys continued to argue until Thathanka-Ska said, "I think he'll just be a regular person who has to listen to what the old women tell him, and still try to do the right thing."
 
He bit into his fried lizard and said, "I wouldn't want to have to be him at all."

***

Haienwa'tha dreamed of the man he would find, seeing him sitting in the circle, looking out over the rest of the tribe.
 
He nodded understandingly as different warriors spoke, always steady, always firm.
 
Even when there was a quarrel or someone disagreed with the new Chief, he was not flustered.
 
In battle, fearless and decisive.
 
In front of the council women, resolute.
 
As his eyes fluttered open against the cold ground of the mesa, Haienwa'tha felt glad for the dream, surely it was a vision.
 
A blessing.
 

He looked around to see the other two were both sleeping.
 
"Hey!
 
Wake up!" he shouted at Lakhpia-Sha.
 
"You were supposed to be standing guard, idiot."

Lakhpia-Sha's head snapped up and he stretched out his long, lanky frame.
 
"I was just resting my eyes.
 
Wasn't sleeping."

"Liar," Haienwa'tha said.
 
He picked up a small stone and flung it over the grey, stilted fire at the ground near his younger brother.
 
"Get up, lazy."

The boy covered his eyes to shield them as he looked at where the sun was standing.
 
"It isn't even past daybreak yet.
 
Let's leave in another hour."

"Now," Haiewa'tha said.
 
"We need to find somewhere to clean ourselves before we reach the Hopituh Shi-nu-mu."

They rode out on their destriers toward the cliffs, small things that looked no bigger than a man's thumb from a distance but grew to enormous proportions as they approached under the harsh afternoon sun.
 
Under the canopy of the cliffs were strange, unnatural carvings cut out of the stone and earth.
 
"What is that?" Lakhpia-Sha said in wonder.
 

They all turned to look at the windows and doorways to empty homes, now taken over by insect webs and desert vegetation.
 
"Dwellings," Haienwa'tha said.
 
"Homes for the ancient people."
 
There were at least a hundred of them, enough for an entire tribe.
 
"If I were them, I would not have set up such a permanent place unless I had access to water."
 
He waved for the other two to follow him, "Let's pray it has not run dry."

The dirt behind the cliffs was dark red and rich looking, surrounded by thick reeds that stood tall enough to brush their feet dangling from the destriers.
 
"Split up, but go slow," Haienwa'tha said.
 
"It could be right underneath us."
 

He eased his destrier forward, whispering to her, "Easy, easy."
 
She shook her face at the reeds and snorted, annoyed as they swiped at her nostrils and batted her eyes.
 
If the animal fell into the water it might break its legs, or worse, throw him and break his.
 
He patted her muscular neck, running his fingers gently along the fine coat of chestnut fur and said, "We will drink soon."
 

"Over here!" Thathanka-Ska shouted.
 
"Careful, it's swampy."
 

The older boy turned his destrier around and headed for his brother's voice.
 
The ground turned wet beneath them, making sucking noises on his mount's heavy hooves.
 
He looked down to see a small, muddy stream running through the reeds, tangled in lilies and green algae.
 
"Not the oasis I had hoped for," he said.
 

Lakhpia-Sha's destrier slogged through the muck toward them and he frowned at the water.
 
"I think we might actually get dirtier if we go in that."

"Both of you are sissies," Thathanka-Ska said.
 
The boy jumped down from his destrier and stripped off his clothing so quickly that it was only seconds before he was running naked to the edge of its bank and leaping.
 
He landed with a splash that made the other two's destriers back up abruptly.
 

"How is it?" Lakhpia-Sha said.

"Disgusting!
 
Now come on."

"There are probably snakes in there," Lakhpia-Sha said.
 

"And worse," Haienwa'tha said.
 
"But I'd rather be bitten by something than present ourselves to the Hopituh Shi-nu-mu covered in dry poop."
 
He dismounted and pulled off his brown-crusted shirt and threw it into the water, then did the same with his pants.
 
He looked over his shoulder and said, "Come on.
 
Let's go."

Lakhpia-Sha slid down from the back of his destrier, looking warily at the water below.
 
"What's the bottom of it like?
 
Are there a lot of rocks?
 
Snakes hide in the rocks," he whispered.
 

"I'll check," Thathanka-Ska said.
 
He dove under the murky surface and vanished.
 

Haienwa'tha eased himself down into the water and started to scrape the crust off his arms and neck.
 
"It isn't that bad," he said.
 
"Stop being a baby."

"Where is your brother?" Lakhpia-Sha said nervously.

There was an enormous, sudden splash as Thathanka-Ska shot up from the water at Lakhpia-Sha's feet and grabbed him by his wiry legs.
 
The two of them tumbled back into the water with the medicine man's apprentice screaming like a woman as he fell.