Snow Eagle (5 page)

“Alright, alright you do what you need to do. You are right I will get my satisfaction in seeing Gray Wolf dead.” White Fox, sensing the other man's displeasure, realized that he better play along for the time being. He needed Charging Elk more than they needed him. He leaned back on his blanket, thinking of how they had found him. After he was cut loose, he had run hard in the direction of their summer valley. Finding himself in a grove of trees he collapsed in exhaustion, unaware that a wolf pack was hunting in the area. One of the wolves approached him, growling, it lowered its head sniffing his collapsed body. Once the rest of the pack, led by a large gray arrived, White Fox knew that he was in trouble. The irony of being killed by a large gray wolf, totem animal of Gray Wolf had not escaped him, as the snarling wolves circled. That was when Charging Elk and his men arrived and frightened the wolves off, just in the nick of time. A smug grin crossed his lips as he remembered telling them that he had tried to save the Caribou woman from being dishonored, but the real attacker turned the story around and his people mistakenly believed that he, White Fox was the perpetrator. These dumb Caribou Hunters believed everything he said. They were almost as stupid as Dancing Bear. Luckily they didn't know that he was one of the warriors with Gray Wolf when the Caribou woman had been taken or they would not have been so helpful. They would be easy to trick into doing what he wanted, once they found the Tlingits. White Fox closed his eyes for a few minutes picturing his sweet revenge on Gray Wolf in his mind. His mother would be proud of him.

Charging Elk watched him with interest, knowing that he must not let his guard down for a minute with this one. White Fox had asked for a weapon but they put him off, saying he would not need one until they were ready to raid. Trusting this man with a weapon was not something the Caribou Hunters were going to do. Charging Elk would let him foolishly think they trusted him and believed his pitiful story. A man like this would not do anything that wasn't to his advantage. The Tlingits probably had good reason to want him dead. He would be disposed of as soon as Charging Elk was finished with him. The huge man reached down and tightened the leather holding the fur to the bottom of his moccasins. The others were eating or resting, now much better equipped to cross the frozen ice. He nodded to his second in command, Walks with Fire who also watched White Fox with suspicion. The silent communication between them went unnoticed by the self absorbed White Fox.

The dark gray rocks were in sight. The fatigued people were recharged with energy at the sight of their destination. “The ice ends, at last,” one of the travelers shouted. Everyone picked up the pace, sore muscles searching for the last ounce of strength.

“Wait, Buffalo Woman has fallen.” Everyone stopped, turning back to the collapsed, old woman on the ice. Prairie Flower, Buffalo Woman's daughter, knelt beside her mother. She began to wail. Little Fawn ran to Buffalo Woman's frail body. She took her head in her hands and rubbed the wrinkled, sagging cheeks. Buffalo Woman's eyes opened slowly but it was obvious that she was suffering. The old woman's hand went to her chest.

“Kah-shu-gon-yah, has come for me. I will not complete my last ice field crossing.” Her voice was faint and weak, her breathing shallow.

“Lift her onto the travois, we must get to the rocks quickly. Buffalo Woman, you will be fine, you just need to rest.” Prairie Flower was beside herself, Little Fawn took charge of the situation. Gray Wolf and Salmon Catcher lifted the near weightless body and placed it reverently on the fur piled travois. Pelts were piled on top of Buffalo Woman's body for warmth and although his lowly duties were over, Gray Wolf took the straps and began pushing the loaded sled. The dogs strained under the added weight. Prairie Flower, several years older than Little Fawn, walked beside her mother wringing her hands and praying. Tribal members came to whisper encouragement and support to the ancient elder. Little Fawn walked along side checking the old woman often. Everyone increased his or her pace toward the edge of the ice. To lose a life on the white field of ice was a bad omen. They must hurry.

It was almost two hours later when the frail body of Buffalo Woman was placed on the rocky earth. Her wrinkled hand reached out to caress the earth. She looked into her daughter's eyes, “I am here. We have made it, I have crossed the ice for the last time.” A long intake of air, followed by a short gasp, ended the life of oldest member of the tribe. Prairie Flower and Little Fawn began to cry. They realized that the old woman had willed herself to reach the other side, ensuring that her people would not be cursed. Gray Wolf appeared at his mother's side. In her grief she needed Snow Eagle's strength to console her. Gray Wolf's strong young arm embraced his mother.

As Shaman, it was Snow Eagle's duty to perform the death ceremonies. In his absence, Little Fawn would prepare the body and Black Rain would call Kah-shu-gon-yah, to receive the soul of Buffalo Woman. The body was wrapped in a woven mountain goat blanket and placed on a cedar mat. A somber mood surrounded the group, who had finally reached the other side and a much needed rest.

Sunflower approached the old woman's body and kneeled reverently to stroke her withered brow. Her eyes searched for Black Rain.
He is old and will leave us soon; all of the elders are frail. Soon it will be time for the younger ones to take over. I must have strength. I must do what is best for the tribe.
She brushed some ice from the old woman's hair before retreating to sit with her father. Looking at the grief in his face, she whispered, “Once we reach the sea, a Potlach will be held to honor Buffalo Woman. We will miss her.” Sunflower took her father's wrinkled hand in hers, his fingers closed lightly on her hand, seeking comfort.

Snow Eagle reached the end of the mountain trail where a steep descent would take him close to the edge of the ice field. His body ached and his lungs cried out for air from running. He must rest before he tried to climb down the mountainside. He lit a small fire and forced the food into his exhausted body. His knotted stomach rebelled and he knew that he must wait before eating more. Laying on the mossy ground, pulling air into his lungs, Snow Eagle prayed that the Caribou Hunters had not reached his people. He could not bear to think what carnage would greet him, if they had. His legs began to cramp. He stretched and rubbed the tight muscles. Soon, fear pushed him on, he lifted his pack and continued without a much needed rest.

Death ceremonies continued into the night. The body was wrapped carefully and with respect by the women and was then placed upon a wooden frame, a fire was lit under the frame and the body burned. Someone pointed to the sky, dancing with magical green and pink lights. Waving patterns of light lit up the black sky and held the people in awe. “Buffalo Woman has reached the highest heaven, Kiwa-a in the Land of the Dead. It is a sign.” Red Hawk stared at the dancing lights in the sky. She would miss her dear old friend. How long would it be before they lost more of the Elders? Buffalo Woman had willed herself to live until her people were back on solid ground, wanting to prevent a bad omen. She had been successful but still something evil blew on the night wind, Red Hawk felt it deep in her mournful soul. It was not long before the group retired for the night, leaving Red Hawk alone by the fire. Silently she said goodbye to Buffalo Woman; tears ran down her cheeks. Black Rain lay on his blanket and painfully watched his wife's grief, knowing she needed to be alone, he did not approach her.

Buffalo Woman's death made Little Fawn more anxious than ever to see Snow Eagle. After the travelers camped for two or three days they would begin their trek down to the sea. Hopefully her husband would join them soon. Gray Wolf was on watch and Frightened Deer slept near Little Fawn. The young woman seemed more relaxed around her son now, but Little Fawn still found it strange that she did not speak. Even when White Fox dragged her into the woods, she did not scream. Perhaps she could not make a sound. Was this the wife for her son? If Frightened Deer was with child, would the child be born unable to speak as well? Several questions ran through Little Fawn's mind as she watched her son's squaw sleeping soundly.

The entire tribe mourned the death of Buffalo Woman. They spoke of how her spirit would travel through the thorny forest to the Land of the Dead. She was a good woman and assured a place with the Great Spirit. Only those who were of bad character and whose lives had not been well served would go to the Raven's Home. Conversations were subdued and faces full of grief, as the people rested on the edge of the ice field. All were happy to be back on solid earth once more and anxious to be going to the milder climate of the seaside, but they had lost one of their own and she would be sorrowfully missed.

The people gathered around the fire that night. The next morning they would prepare to start the downward trek to the sea. Snow Eagle had not returned. The night was black and moonless. No Aurora Borealis lit the evening sky on this night.

Moving with stealth across the ice, Charging Elk and his band walked in silence. Once they approached rocks on the other side, they were about a mile north of where the Tlingit camp was located. “We must be totally silent. We will take them when they are camped for the night.” Charging Elk stared at White Fox, the look of hatred still lingered in his eyes. “So what is your plan, White Fox?”

“I suggest we wait until they are all asleep. The woman you seek will be found with Red Hawk and Black Rain. I will find her and then point out Gray Wolf. He may be sitting guard, so we must be careful.” White Fox puffed out his chest with pride and vanity. The Caribou Hunters stared back at him with scorn.

“Tagish do not kill men and women as they sleep. We will take them when they can fight back. We are not cowards.” One of the warriors stood defiantly, looking to Charging Elk for confirmation.

“We will approach silently and you can point out the one you call Gray Wolf. One of my men will go with you to recapture Songbird and once she is safe, we will attack.” Charging Elk knew that White Fox would not cooperate but he would discuss the alternate plan with his men, one by one, in secret. Walks with Fire glared at White Fox. He would kill this lying coward as soon as he pointed out Songbird's location. The Caribou Hunters were proud and courageous, with little time for cowards or fools. His hand went instinctively to his knife. He stroked the handle, as he resisted slitting White Fox' throat right there and then.

Snow Eagle climbed down the embankment, sliding the last thirty feet to the rocks below. He should arrive in camp before morning. He walked more slowly now, his fatigue holding him back. His nose sniffed at the smell of burning logs. Slowly he crept toward the smell. There on the rock clearing, camped the band of warriors, still wearing the three horizontal stripes on their faces. He was about to back away when his eye held the familiar face of White Fox. His mind was filled with thoughts of contempt and loathing. One of his own people was traveling with the Caribou Hunters. What was he up to this time? Red Hawk was right; something evil grew in White Fox. Snow Eagle crawled on his belly until he was clear of the Caribou Hunters camp. He ran on tired legs as fast as he could go towards the Tlingit's camp.

The Caribou Hunters arrived during the night. Silently creeping around the perimeter of the camp, White Fox pointed to Red Hawk's blankets. Strategically they placed themselves in a circle around the camp. As silent as the night they moved through the surrounding forest. Charging Elk moved off to the left signaling Walks with Fire before leaving. The other man nodded in understanding as he moved to the right with White Fox.

Walks with Fire and White Fox stealthily approached the sleeping Tlingits covered by the blackness of the night. White Fox could barely contain his excitement at once again grabbing the sleeping woman from her blankets. He knew that once he had her, he would scream to alert his people and they would over take the Caribou Hunters. White Fox would be a hero in their eyes and he could have anything he wished. Suspiciously, Walks with Fire watched him. Staying low they approached on silent feet. The other Caribou Hunters waited for the signal before running into the camp, bellowing their war cry and killing everyone in their wake.

White Fox reached for the red and blue blanket intending to grab the young woman by the shoulders and pull her away to the waiting Walks with Fire. His grasp found only blankets. Again he grappled for her, more rolled up blankets. Shocked, he turned to Walks with Fire, who was staring down at the pile of blankets. Walks with Fire walked over and kicked the other bedroll. Once again, no one was there. “What is going on? Where are they?” White Fox turned to walk into the center of the camp. Walks of Fire, who now had a tight grip on his arm, quickly halted him.

“We will go to Charging Elk. Now.” He pushed White Fox back into the trees. “I think you have led us into a trap.” White Fox protested, trying to pull his arm free but to no avail. Walks of Fire scanned the trees as they moved carefully back to where the others waited. His grip tightened on the other man's arm.

“ Let us kill this one now, he has tricked us.” Walks with Fire was angry and growing more agitated by the minute.

“They can't be far away, someone must have warned them.” Charging Elk's eyes went directly to White Fox, who was staring at the ground. Charging Elk was rethinking his plan when a loud whoop was heard directly behind him. Within minutes the eight surprised warriors, including White Fox, were subdued and lying face down on the ground. Their hands were tied behind their backs and Gray Wolf and his warriors stood over them, weapons ready.

“Gray Wolf, it is me, White Fox. I led these men to you so you could capture them. Untie me. I must see my mother right away.” White Fox tried to roll over, “Dancing Bear, it is me White Fox, help me up.” Dancing Bear hesitated, but then moved towards White Fox. Walks with Fire glared at White Fox from his prone position. Dancing Bear stopped.

“Leave him be. He will stay tied like the rest of these men. Bring them to the fire.” Gray Wolf helped Charging Elk to his feet and led the procession to the center of the camp. The two young warriors were the same height and stature and even as a captive, Charging Elk held his head proudly. Dancing Bear followed directly behind White Fox, confused but obedient. He was happy that his friend had returned.

Snow Eagle, Black Rain and the others slowly returned to the fire from their hiding places. Frightened Deer was shocked when she saw Charging Elk. She ran towards him but Little Fawn reached out and stopped her. Little Fawn and Red Hawk led her to the circle, but her eyes never left Charging Elk.

“Songbird, are you all right? Songbird it is me, Charging Elk.” Charging Elk called out to her. She nodded in the affirmative; still she did not speak. “I demand to speak to the Elders. This woman belongs to the Caribou Hunters.”

Snow Eagle approached the captives. “We will sit and discuss our situation. You have come to take the woman you call Songbird home, but you came as warriors to kill our people. You travel with one of us that has been condemned to death. There is much to say.” Snow Eagle sat and began smudging himself with the burning sage. The others took their places around the flaming fire. Nothing further would be said until the ceremonial smudging was complete. White Fox called out repeatedly to Sunflower but she did not look at him. She knew that she must make her choice. She had trained all of her life to sit as an Elder, with the good of all of the people as her prime objective. She never thought she would have to sit in judgment of her own flesh and blood. Her own guilt was still fresh in her mind. It had been her plan that had gone wrong and placed her son in jeopardy. A mother's love can overcome many obstacles but the look in her son's eyes could no longer be denied; it was the look of evil. Her soul was in torment.