Sweet Savage Surrender (34 page)

And you can use these Indian Wars to catapult you into a senator's seat
, John t
hought, but he held
silent, making a request instead.  "I'd like to take Lieutenant
Sam Dunham  with me."

"And a few others.
Ten men.
In case you run into any trouble.
”
 

Though he hated to arrive at Skyraven’s camp with an army, there didn’t seem to be anything he
could
do but agree.
If he couldn't convince Skyraven and her people to take advantage of Evan's offer
,
it could very well mean their deaths.

Chapter Thirty-Five

The morning was clear
,
without any sign of clouds.  Still the air held a chill which warned that the time of cold would soon be approaching. There would be so many things to do before winter came.  Drying meat, fruits and vegetables,
tanning hides,
making certain there were enough buffalo robes to guard them from the icy breath of the wind.  Skyraven paused in her chore of boiling meat for the  morning meal to look up at the sky, wondering if John Hanlen was even now at his fort looking up at the deep azure blue
,
too.  Had he heard about what had happened to
Lean Bear
?  Was he saddened or had the white soldiers fabricated a lie so that he even now believed that the killing of such a great chief was warranted, a
s Blue Fox would happen?

Life had settled back in a familiar routine for Skyraven and her people, and though the death of
Lean Bear
had not been  forgotten or forgiven
,
it did not weigh as heavily on their minds.  Time healed the soul's wounds, her grandfather said.  
Buffalo
's Brother and  Chief Left Hand were still determined to remain at peace with the
white
men
and thus had resisted all invitations from the northern
Arapahos
, Kiowas
, Comanche
and hostile
Cheyenne
to join forces with them in fighting the soldiers.
Left Hand had told his people to keep to their village, to avoid avenging soldiers and hostile raiders. He abhorred the violence and said that to retaliate would only bring death to the Arapaho.

Skyraven wiped out the wooden bowls, preparing one for her grandfather and one for herself, then used  a sharpened stick to pull the meat from the pot.  She was just about to call her grandfather when a cloud of dust announced a rider.  "Lone Wolf!" s
he breathed. 

He rode into the camp like a wh
irlwind.
Seeing the two bowls Skyraven held in her hands
,
he slid from his horse and tore them from her hands.  Hungrily he wolfed down both portions, then wiped his lips with
his hand.  "Good.  Very good."

Skyraven noticed that he was dirty, that the buckskins of which he was so proud were torn. He was bruised and he was bloodied.
"Lone Wolf, what has happened?"  Skyraven was astounded to see him
,
and a m
ore than a little apprehensive, for
Lone Wolf was a disruptive force among the younger braves.  "You look thinner and act as if you are starving."

Lone Wolf stared at her with a look that
held neither malice nor gratitude.
"I am half starved, like a stinking animal.  And
like an animal I was
put in a cage."  He spat at her f
eet.  "By the white soldiers."

"Caged?"  In spite of what had happened between them,
and
his anger at her refusal
of marriage
, she was horrified.  Lone Wolf was  bold and brave and was not
one to be so treated.  "Why?"

He told her the story of the three men who defiled the buffalo hunting grounds and his retaliation, then about his capture by the
white
soldiers.  "They kicked me, hit at me and treated me with scorn.  I was put in a stone box with a tiny little  square hole and bars just like a cage. Like little children they chattered, asking me question after question, but I fooled them.  I played a game and pretended I coul
d not understand their words."

Lone Wolf looked around him for just a moment, pleased that his
presence
was creating a stir in t
he camp.  The people had ceased their activities
and now thronged around him like a returning hero.  All eyes were upon
him as he continued his story.

"I angered them by not acting like a trained dog at their heels.  They moved me to a dirty, stinking, place of horses, a box even smaller than before with no opening for the light. 
And then they practically starved
me.
”

"They were going to let you go hungry?"  a little Indian boy asked
,
horrified at such a thought.  No Arapaho would treat even a prisoner like that
,
for starv
ation was an agonizing death."

"They had condemned me to death.  When a yellow-haired soldier came," Lone Wolf looked upon Skyraven with a frown, remembering that it was
her
solder,  "he tried to get me to loosen my tongue.  I fooled him
,
too.  I heard him talking to another soldier.  Their chief was going to hang me to vent his hatred on our kind."  His voice grew louder as he tried to stir the others into anger.  "But the great spirit would not let that be.  He gave me strength to break free of their cage so that I could return to you with a warning.  We must stop them.  Drive them from our
land.  Kill them if we must."

"No!"  The word was a sob whic
h tore from Skyraven's throat.

Lone Wolf ignored her outburst.  "The whites have a chief who is touched with an evil spirit, a huge, tall giant with eyes that glow with hatred.  I heard the soldiers talk.  He wants to rid the
land
of
Indians
so that the white men can roam freely here.  But we will not let them.  We must be like those who follow Bull Bear and strike a blow that will be felt all the way to the Great White Father in
Washington
."  He raised his f
ist.  "Ayeeee, it must be so."

The war cry was met with blood-chilling enthusiasm as the memory of
Lean Bear
surfaced.  "Ayeeee!"  Several of the braves mimicked Lone Wolf's gesture.  Hurrying into their tepees they gathered together bows, arrows and what
white
men's
weapons they had.  Had it not been  for Chief Left Hand's entrance at that moment they might have been incited to ride out and do mischief
,
but like a steadying
force the Chief swept forward.

"My son talks with brave words
,
but  words from his heart and not from his head.  I say it is too late to fight with the white men and win.  There are too many of them and they are much too strong.  It would be much like using a  woman's wooden spoon to spar with a bear."  His voice was sharp and decisive.  "As long as I am chief of this band of the
people I will call for peace."

"Then perhaps you should no longer be chief!"  Lone Wolf's voice was steeped with his bitterness.  "A man who would not make war on those who were going to hang
his  own son is an old woman."

All those watching stoo
d in stunned silence as Chief 
Left Hand took a step forward. 
"I will allow no man, not even you, to say such a thing.  You are the seed o
f my loins.  When you were born,
you were the joy of my heart.  I looked upon you with pride.  Now I know only sham
e that you can be so foolish."

"Foolish am I?"  Lone Wolf fought a duel of eyes with his father, yet in the end he
backed down.
"Well, we will see, for I believe all the white man to be like a jackal.  Soon you will see that what I have told you is right.  The red men and white man can not co-exist in peace."  With that Lone Wolf stalked off into a clump of trees at the edge of the camp.  Skyraven found herself following him though why she could not say
why she did so.

She
came upon the brave as he was cleaning his wounds in the river.  "You are wrong about the white
men.  They are not all like wolves," she felt compelled to say.  "You have suffered, and for that I feel much pain in my heart, but do not
let what happened blind you."

"It is you and my father who are blind," he grunted, splashing water over his face and shoulders.  As if to impress her with his manliness
,
he slowly stripped to just a loin cloth.  "
Look.
  These cuts and black and blue marks are reminders to me of how peaceful are the
white
men
."  He traced the out
line of each and every wound.

"John Hanlen is not a man who would do such a thing," she
whispered beneath her breath.

"I say he is!  Like the others he came to g
loat when I was held captive."

Skyraven's heart s
kipped a beat.  "You saw him?"

"He was the one who brought word that I was to be strung up like a piece of sun dried buffalo.  Ay, I saw him."  He fought with his emotions, his jealousy.  Skyraven was his, had been since they were children.  He would not give her up to the man with hair like the sun.  "That wasichu!"  He spit the
Indian word for white man
like an
insult.

"How were you certain that it was him?"  Her eyes met his and did not falter.  She had to know.
             

He stood up from the stream and pushed his wet hair back from his face. "Because he spoke your name."  He seemed to see into her heart.  "I suppose that you believe this whi
te man will return for you."
             

"I do so believe."

Lone Wolf laughed contemptuously.  "You will never see his face again.  White men bed our women and make of them whores and concubines but never wives.  You will see that I am right.  Your world and his can neve
r be the same.  You will see."

"I hear your words, buy my heart will not listen.  My love is strong for this man.  I would be with him
, among his people or mine
.  I care not what I am called, only that I cannot live without h
im!"

Lone Wolf trembled with his anger.  "So, you would rather live with him as his whore than l
ive with me as my honored wife?"

Skyraven's face took on a pleading expression as she tried to make him understand.  "Someday you
will
feel as I do about someone, and then perhaps you will understand," she said softly.  "I love you as a brother, Lone Wolf.  I do care for you and it was never my  intent to cause you this pain.  Please let there be friendship between us, for I n
eed your love and your trust."

Lone Wolf looked for a long time at the face of the woman he had known since his boyhood.  She was a woman to honor and respect as well to love and yet he could
not
soften his resolve, nor his rage.  "I can not feel love or friendship for anyone who has a softness for the whites.  "Listen, and listen to this well.  The
yellow-haired
white
man is no different from any of the others.  This you will see.  Someday when he has proved that he speaks as the others with a forked tongue
,
then remember this day and remember that I told you it would be so."  Thus said he dove into the water.

Skyraven watched him as he swam with long, easy strokes across the deep part of the st
ream and knew a sense of sad
disquietude.

Skyraven's white man did come, however, putting to lie Lone Wolf's
prediction
.  But John Hanlen did not  come as she might have ho
ped, but rather with several of the blue
coats.  Even so
,
she ran to greet him and was met with
the white flash of his smile.

"Skyraven!"  Trying to maintain an air of dignity  he dismounted slowly.  He did not gather her into his arms as she ran to him but did squeeze her hand affectionately.  "It's good to see you again.  How good you will never know."  He turned to a dark haired, short little man who had ridden a half a horse's length behind him. "Sam, this is the Indian girl I told you about.  The one who saved
my life.  What do you think?"

"That she's even prettier than you said, Major."  He bounded from his horse with cheerful enthusiasm and came over to where they stood.  "Long dark hair, and look at those blue eyes.  A real treasure.  Wish she'd save me instead of you.  B
eggin' your pardon, Major."
Grabbing her hand
,
he pumped it up and down.  "
Pleased to meet you, Skyraven, m
a'am.  Indeed I am.  All I've heard about since the
day the Major and I met is you."

Skyraven flushed her pleasure at his words, then remembering hospitality
,
gestured towards the fire.  Although her grandfather, the chief,  the braves, children and women had already eaten
,
there was enough food left over with which to make an offer. "You mus
t be hungry after a long ride."

Sam Dunham quickly took her up on her offer, competing with the camp dogs which hovered about hoping for their share of what was left.  "Thank you, ma'am
.  I'm as hungry as a bear."