Sweet Savage Surrender (35 page)

Sam and several of the others  partook of boiled antelope meat and  wild veg
etables but John hung back. H
ow he wished he could be alone with Skyraven
, he mourned,
but it seemed there were too many eyes watching to even steal a kiss.  For the moment at least he had to be content in just looking at her.  "I've thought about you every day," he said, brushin
g her dark hair from her eyes.

"And I, you."  His being here was a
s warm as basking in sunshine.

"I'm sorry about
Lean Bear
."  For a moment he hung his head as he
remembered what he had heard.

"I was with him when he was killed.  We
...we were not armed."

"I didn't think you were."  His fingers traced the line of her jaw, then gently touched her lips as if in a kiss.  "I can't find the words to explain so that you can understand how such a travesty of justice can occur. All I can do is repeat that I am deeply sorry. 
Lean Bear
was an example of what men should be.  God knows I wish my chief was even
half as wise.  But he is not."

"Lone Wolf says that your chief is
touched with an evil spirit."

"Lone Wolf?" 

"He was locked up by your chief but broke free.  He
came back early this morning."

John raised his eyebrows in surprise.  So the Indian brave he had gone to see at the fort was an Arapaho.  Now that he thought about it the name seemed familiar.  Then he remembered.  The brave Skyraven had once talked about.  The one who had wanted to claim he for his wife.  So, he had ridden back here.  He hoped Chivington did not get wind of
it or there might be trouble.

Skyraven noticed the furl to his forehead.  "Something is wrong.  What is
it, John Hanlen?"

"Skyraven......"  He didn't know how to begin.  How was he going to tell her of the danger? How could he tell her that he had come with a proclamation that would herd her people onto an area of land like so many sheep, to wait
docilely
by while the
United States
army went in search of some of her own kind.  While her people hunted wild game, his had taken it into the
ir heads to hunt human beings.

"What
is it....?"

"Our people are soon to be at war."  He felt her stiffen.  "That is the word of my chief.  I have been sent to talk with your chief, to give him a mess
age from the man he calls the "Great F
ather".  I'm here t
o save your people, Skyraven."

"To save us?  How?"  She listened patiently while he spoke about the proclama
tion.  "We can not stay here?"

"No.  A rancher and his family were killed by Indians, the bodies taken back to
Denver
City
and exhibited.  It has angered my people against yours and now there is going to be trouble.  There are Indians who are going to be punished for the deed.  My chief  promises that you will be safe if you do as he says."  It was the only way, though he knew it was a great deal to ask of these people.  The citizens of
Denver
and the outlaying area stood behind Chivington and Evans, not only to punish the Indians but to d
rive them from the territory, t
o exterminate them if that was necessary.  He had to protect Skyraven and her people at any cost.  "All Indians refusing to come i
n will be considered hostile."

She looked at him in anger.  "That land you speak of is dry, without much water.  There are no buffalo,  only a few small game.  How are we going t
o survive?  How, John Hanlen?"

"There has been money set aside.  My chief will see that you are fed, at least until the fighting is over."  He knew his own sense of anger.  Why had Evans chosen such a barren area?  He should have placed the Indians near the buffalo range so that they could have provided for themselves.  Instead they would be de
pendent on the fort's charity.

For just a moment she looked at him as her adversary. 
Lone Wolf had given warning.
  "You and your people are enemies," she exclaimed bitterly.  Once before he had come talking about peace.  He had spoken to
Lean Bear
about putting aside their weapons.  Now
Lean Bear
was dead and yet that was not enough for the whites.  Now they wanted to put the Indians on land even the prairie dogs did not want, to be as little children dependent on them for their food.  It was degrading.  Humiliating.  "You are my enemy, John Hanlen.  You and all the sold
iers you bring into our camp."

For a moment he forgot all gentleness as he shook her roughly by the shoulders, trying to make her see what must be done.  "Skyraven, lis
ten to me.  If you do not go, i
f you make any show of carrying weapons
,
you will come to harm.  Can you understand that?  My chief is touched by the evil spirit, just as Lone Wolf says.  He is just waiting for you and your people to make a wrong move so that he can sweep you out of his
way.  But if you prove to the Great F
ather that you are peaceful
,
you will...."  Helplessly he stood there searching for words and then reme
mbered.  "You will score a coup
.  You will make that red-haired devil who wants to play at war look foolish.  Please see that what I say is true.  Trust me, Skyraven.  The soldiers will go out on their rampage
,
and when they have sufficiently meted out what they think is rightful punishment
,
they will cease.  The war to the south has drained us of men. 
Soon they will have to leave."

Looking into the depths of his eyes she saw t
he glitter of sincerity, yet
her voice was cold.  "It is not for me to
say but for Chief Left Hand."

"I know, but I was hoping that you would talk with him, with your grandfather.
Help me make them see....." 

Skyraven didn't answer or say a word.  Instead she took his hand and led him towards the center of the camp.
             
             

Chapter Thirty-Six

The veil of night fell over the village.
Skyraven listened
to the voice of the camp crier. The old man  shouted out
the
recent
news
, the
mandates
of the chief, and the orders of the day.  She awaited the meeting of Chief Left Hand's council with great anxiety.  Feelings ran strong in the camp, particularly since Lone Wolf's return.  John Hanlen's proposal had been met by scoffs and then laughter among the younger warriors.  Give up their weapons and go to the fort?  The white men must think them to be as foolish children, they said, echoing
Skyraven’s own
thoughts
.
The
Indians
had eyed the soldiers in their midst with undisguised hostility and anger, even going so far as to stand in a circle around them.
Only respect for Left Hand's leadership
had
deterred
them fro
m making any show of violence.

Skyraven took great care in choosing her garments, knowing John Hanlen would be able to see her.  Because there were so many involved in this meeting
,
it would be held outside where all members of the tribe could listen.  Though she would not have any say in the matter
,
she still would be able to hear every word.  Looking into the polished silver mirror John Hanlen had brought her
,
she studied herself.  She had chosen to wear a new buckskin dress Desert Flower had given her, one of lightest beige, fringed and studded with embroidery and beads in a myriad of colors.  The glow of her large ornate necklace, the one fashioned of white bone,  and her elk's teeth earrings shone in the light of the fire.  Her hair was left hanging long, a headband with a swirling design worked in turquoise and
coral beads adorning her head.

The full moon shone brightly down on the earth.  Skyraven could see as they approached the fire that the warriors were all wearing feathers in their headbands
, the number of feathers and the color signifying the society to which they belonged
.  The men
of the
tribe were divided into eight age-graded societies
,
and all
of these were represented now --
the Fox Men who were the lowest in rank, the Star Men society of young warriors who venerated Lone Wolf, the Club Society of warriors in their prime, the Lance Men Society who enforced the orders of the camp chief, the Crazy Men who had served their time in battle,  the Dog Men Society who were the four principal leaders
and four lesser leaders, the Sweat Lodge S
ociety who were a secre
t order of mature men, and the Water-Pouring S
ociety
to
which her grandfather belonged
,
whose members were the seven venerable priests, each keeper of
an important
medicine bundle
.
The faces of all the braves assembled were stern, causing her to feel cold with
in
.  She didn't wa
nt any harm to come to her yellow-haired soldier.

Chief Left Hand stood tall and proud, magnificently attired in full ceremonial clothing. His feathered bonnet reached all the way to the ground.
Buffalo
’s
Brother
, too, was in full ceremonial clothing, his buffalo-
horned
headdress atop his head, the peace pipe secured within an elaborately embroidered carrying case.

Drums, always there were drums when there was anything important going on in the camp, a mournful thump.  Now they grew louder as the rhythm of her grandfather's rattles echoed their beat.  A chant, a wailing
,
filled the air. Skyraven searched for the golden hair of John Hanlen among the soldiers seated  around the fire and found him with her eyes.   He looked so troubled, so sad
,
that any anger she might have felt melted a
s quickly as the spring snows.

Left Hand came forward, standing in a position to block her view of John Hanlen as he began to speak.  At that moment Skyraven felt proud
,
for was said to be one of the finest looking In
dians who roamed the plains.  He
was of muscular build
and
over six feet
tall
,
both adding
to his aura of authority.  Dressed in his full  regalia  of feathers, buckskin and beading he looked every inch a chief
. His English was fluent,
with no trace of accent
,
for he had learned it from traders in his boyhood.  Firelight danced on his face as
he abruptly  raised his hand.

"Let the soldier's chieftain speak," he said in his de
ep resonant tone.

John Hanlen stood up from his cross-legged position.  "The governor of the
territory
of
Colorado
wishes you to go to a place of safety," he began.  "There has been trouble here.  Raids, burning, scalping and the like.  Soldiers are out scouring the area to bring the offenders to punishment
,
but in the doing have punished
those who have done no wrong--
Lean Bear
for example.  I am here to make certain that such a thing does not happen again, that your people can live in peace, within the security
of the governor's protection."

Lone Wolf's eyes looked with hostility at his adversary.  "You want us to give up our weapons, to be toothless and clawless like old men and old wom
en.  Isn't that what you want, S
oldier?"  He stared down at the fire.  "The truth is that you want the yellow metal and the land that is rightfully ours
, land which you now call your own
.  Well I say no.
Man Above has given this land to all Arapaho and
Cheyenne
. We do not sell what Man Above has given."

Left Hand was stern.  "Yours is not the only vote.
Let us hear what the white man has to say.
" 
He nodded to John to continue.

"You will be given food and be looked upon as friends.  Already there are supply wago
ns coming with provisions...."

One weathered old warrior stood defiantly in front of him.  "And what else does your chief want of us?  Far more than a promise to
lay down our arms."

"They want to shear us as the shepherd shears a sheep.  Never!"  Lone Wolf shouted.  His fists were clenched in anger as he glared again at the white man.  "
Lean Bear
listened and he is dead."

"A
regrettable
and tragic thing to have happened."  John tried to maintain his calm as he read from the proclamation. 
His recitation created a stir.

"If we do this thing we are growing soft!" came a voice out of the darkness.   "Someday this peace will reach up to strangle us and will be the death of us all."  With a show of distain a young warrior walked to the outer circle of the council,
leaving behind him an uproar of discussion.

Turmoil broke out, shouts of anger that no true Arapaho warrior would ever agree to such terms, that
they should join with the Kiowa
and Comanc
he
in making war.  Other voices joined with the chief's to make a cry for peace. Each warrior took his turn to say his piece.  For a long time the arguments raged. Then suddenly all was sil
ent. as Left Hand spoke again.

"I understand your feelings," he said sternly, holding his head up with the dignity which befitted a leader of the people, "but we must think carefully before we
decide what is to be done." 
Buffalo
’s Brother
took up the 
peace pipe
and lit it with a burning stick from the fire.  He offered it to the e
arth and the four directions,
took a puff
,
then handed it to
Chief Left Hand. Skyraven
knew that those who were for peace would take a puff of the pipe, those who were for turning down the white men's prop
osal would leave it untouched.

Each member of the eight societi
es took his turn with the pipe
as it went around in a circle.  Then it was
Buffalo
's Brother's turn
to speak
.  Skyraven could see that he was wisely weighing every word
.
"I have listened to all of your words," he said.  "I
,
too
,
have pride, I
,
too
,
love my people, I
,
too
,
want what is best for us all.  I have had a vision of the whites coming to our land like a great white cloud.  Though we push away the fog
,
it always returns.  So it is with the whites.  We can not
stop them."

"Then if we can not stop them there is no hope."  One of the older warriors added his voice
to the council.  "W
e must come to an understanding with the white men.  The traders have been our friends
. I
f we show that we have peaceful intentions
,
so will the soldiers come to terms of peace.  No soldiers would
make war upon unarmed people."

The next three warriors smoked the pipe, but it was passed over by a fourth and a fifth.  Peace.  War.  Again peace.  By the time the pipe was returned to Chief Left Hand the verdict was to
give in to the white man's way.  The c
hief's deep voice stirred like a ripple of thunder.  "Go.  Tell your Colonel Chivington that we want peace
. We
will come to this land he marks for those of us who want to create a bond with the whites.  The warriors and the medicine men have spoken.
”

Skyraven watched and waited as the gathering slowly dispersed. 
So be it
, she thought. 
My people's answer to the soldiers is that we agree to peace.
  It was the answer she had hoped for
,
and yet suddenly she was nearly overwhelmed by a vision of mayhem and slaughter.  Trembling
,
she put her fingers to her temple to try and block out the sight.  No, it could not be.  Logic told her that Chief Left Hand was right.  There could b
e no harm in seeking peace.

Blending with the night
,
Skyraven waited until the camp quieted.  When at last everyone was asleep
,
she approached the area where the soldiers lay sleeping.  She looked at every soldiers face and saw at once that  her soldier was missing.  Then she was out into the night again, running down to the river where the high grass grew
,
and though she could not see him in the darkness beneath the huge cottonwood
,
she knew that he was there.  Her heart told her
so.

"Skyraven...."  He pressed his lips against her neck as his arms went around her.  The village slept in the distance, the river murmured, night birds serenaded as the lovers kissed and embrac
ed.  "It must be this way...."

"I know..."  Her arms went around him as her hands caressed
his wide, strong back.

"I wish I could take you
away with me, this very minute,
" 
he murmured with conviction.
  He was tempted to forget the oath he had taken as a soldier
and abandon everything
to marry her and take her far from here and the danger that
surrounded them.  "Would you go with me?"

"Yes, oh yes!"  At that moment she would have gone
anywhere just to be near him.

"I'll come to you, a
fter you are settled near the fort.  I'll send for a preacher, or I'll get married by your laws, anything.  Then we can be together.  I'll take you into the fort where you will be protected."  At that moment he felt it was the only way.  Inside
Fort
Lyon
, with the protection of his name
,
no one could
harm her, not even Chivington.

"Yes....."   She was lost in the sweetness of his kiss. Her fingers found the ridge of h
is spine and followed it down.

He drew her down on to the soft mat of grass beneath the cottonwood.   Knowingly
,
his fingers worked magic upon her body, sliding down her breasts, her hips and thighs.  He wanted her, more so than he ever had before
,
and yet for some reason he held himself back, contenting himself just in touching her, holding her, talking to her.  For a long, long time they just lay there, looking up at the mist shrouded moon.