Long Walker was
only too aware that he was beaten. He realized that he had chosen the wrong route when he saw Eagle Woman on the slope ahead of him. When she passed him on her way back down, Walker despaired, but he still hoped to catch her.
If only, he had thought for a moment, they could sit and talk. Perhaps he could make her understand that all his efforts were for her own good. The pursuits that the girl was proposing to enter were too dangerous. He wanted to shelter and protect her.
Walker would have been astonished if he had known how close to his own fantasies were those of the girl. He imagined the two of them in their own lodge, Eagle Woman sometimes with him on a hunt, but above all, together. They had never yet finished talking. There were always things to discuss, to enjoy, to share together.
But in the past few suns he had seen this possibility slipping away. Long Walker could imagine in his mind's eye the two of them together, even if the girl attained warrior status. Only he was certain that Eagle Woman would not accept it.
So, he had reasoned, he must stop her, and the Challenge had been his last resort. He had not been happy at its progress. Eagle Woman's skills were even greater than he realized. Walker resented the attitude of the onlookers, the wagers, the ribald jokes. And now it had come to the last contest, and it would be over.
He knew he was beaten by the time Eagle Woman stopped for a sip of water at the spring. He had elected to follow her course and had in fact gained considerably on her by the time they approached the camp. Horsemen rode alongside both runners, people yelled, dogs barked. Walker had managed to draw nearer, near enough for a respectable contest, but he knew that it was not good enough. There would be a certain amount of good-natured ridicule. That was not his primary concern. The depressing thought which weighed him down as he labored toward the finish was that he had failed in his effort to protect and shelter his friend, Eagle Woman. Worse still, she would always hate him for the attempt.
The girl ahead of him sprinted across the finish line, skirt flying and long legs flashing. Walker put forth his best effort and pounded across to hand his marker to Standing Bird. A circle of people gathered around the exhausted contestants as the Elk-dog leader spoke.
“Eagle Woman, you have met the Challenge. You are now ready to be one of us in the Elk-dog Society.”
The girl nodded, panting heavily, trying to catch her breath. Long Walker struggled toward her, his color pale, sick from his effort but even more from his failure.
“You have done well, Eagle Woman,” he gasped.
She looked up and smiled at him. It was a triumphant smile, but friendlyâa trifle surprised, perhaps. Long Walker permitted himself a glimmer of optimism. Was there, somewhere beneath the girl's confident exterior, still a warm spot for him in her heart? The possibility was there, and he would pursue it.
But later. Just now it seemed to require all his attention merely to breathe in and out. He sank to a sitting position,
heart still pounding and lungs gasping for air. His muscles ached. He wondered for a moment if Eagle Woman could possibly feel this much pain and exhaustion. He looked over at the girl being warmly congratulated by friends and family. The pain of winning, he reflected morosely, is certainly less than that of losing.
He was breathing more slowly now and managed to struggle to his feet. What would the girl do now, he wondered. Would she seek a vision quest and insist on going on a war party? His old concerns came flooding back into his mind.
He could protect her, to a degree, in a war party; he could make her safety his primary concern. There was no way, however, that he could help her in the solitary aloneness of the vision quest. It was forbidden for any to follow her.
Perhaps, he thought, she would stop here. She had won warrior status and might be willing to rest at that point. Even as these thoughts occurred to him, he knew better.
Eagle Woman was sipping cautiously from a water skin held by her brother, Bobcat. Someone thrust a similar vessel at Long Walker, and he gratefully rinsed his parched mouth, spat on the ground, and sipped again.
Standing Bird was motioning again to Eagle Woman and Long Walker. The two approached the chief, surrounded by excited onlookers and more serious members of the Elk-dog Society.
“Now, Eagle Woman, how will you be called?”
“I do not understand, my chief.”
“What do you wish as your name? You may wait until after your vision quest if you wish.”
Long Walker had not proceeded this far in his thinking. He had forgotten that it would be the girl's right as a warrior to change her name to one of her choosing. She might choose to do so now or after her vision quest, or even at a later time to commemorate some important event. Walker was certain that she would choose to honor the events of this day.
He was correct. Eagle Woman considered only briefly, then spoke to Standing Bird.
“Yes, my chief. I will choose now.” She paused a moment, looking long at the flat-topped hill in the distance and all it had symbolized. “I will honor the race, the contest which has made me a warrior. I will be called Running Eagle!”
Standing Bird nodded. “It is good!”
He looked around the circle. “Know you all,” he proclaimed solemnly, “that she who has been called Eagle Woman will now be called
Running
Eagle Woman.”
“No!” The girl almost shouted at him. “Not âwoman.' I will be called
Running Eagle.”
The vision quest
of Running Eagle was undertaken immediately. Her parents, her brother Bobcat, and her friend Long Walker all spent much time in worry and concern. The danger of her remaining alone in a remote place while she fasted and dreamed was considerable, of course.
Sweet Grass fretted, and Eagle tried to pretend lack of concern to reassure his wife. Long Walker suffered in solitude, unable to share his worries with anyone. Bobcat came as close as any to a real understanding of the situation.
“She is all right,” he assured his mother. “Has she not proved herself as a warrior?”
Bobcat was enough older than his sister to have assumed a protective, almost proprietary air as they grew up. He had encouraged her in her boyish endeavors and had taken great pride in her achievements. It was he who had nominated her as a warrior sister.
When the girl had requested warrior status, Bobcat was proud, yet mildly amused. Only during the increasing tension of the Challenge and its contests had he begun to feel
strongly about it. By the time his sister had successfully proved herself, he was her most enthusiastic supporter.
Even so, Bobcat understood her. He saw behind the busy, almost frantic activity to the sensitive emotions of the girl who had always looked up to him as an older brother, to be admired and honored. He was not deceived by her apparent anger, almost hatred, toward Long Walker. Bobcat had recognized the closeness between the two contestants in the Challenge and rejoiced in it.
Long Walker was one of few young men he had ever known that Bobcat considered worthy of his sister. Walker was an acceptable brother-in-law, one the entire family could receive with pride.
Bobcat knew his sister well. He was certain that once she had proved her point, Eagle Woman, now Running Eagle, would be ready to settle back and let her budding friendship blossom into marriage. Many young women rode with their husbands in the hunt, and this was the sort of mannish thing that would appeal to Running Eagle.
He smiled to himself in amusement at the thought. He was perhaps the only one who knew how deeply rooted were her womanly instincts after all. Bobcat alone was aware of the contents of the hidden package behind the lodge lining. The girl had long ago confided to her brother that she was gathering cooking stones for her future as head of her own lodge.
So Bobcat was unconcerned, in the long run, as to the ultimate outcome of all this. With tolerant amusement he knew that, when she was ready, his headstrong sister would reveal her plans. Until then it was no one's concern but hers. Even though Bobcat knew that young Walker need have no worry about the eventual outcome, he could do nothing to reassure him. To do so would betray the confidence of Eagle Woman.
Running Eagle, that is.
Aiee
, he would have a difficult time until the new name became comfortable.
The camp had been quiet since the end of the Challenge. It had been only a few suns when Running Eagle announced
that she would go on her vision quest. It was her right to do so, but still her family was uneasy.
Bobcat knew that the girl's friend Walker would also be concerned, so he made occasion to spend time with him after Running Eagle had departed. True to their respect for her, neither mentioned the thoughts that concerned them bothâthe safety of Running Eagle. They discussed the weather, the hunt, tribal politics, and where they were likely to camp for the winter, but the girl was never mentioned. It was as if she did not exist.
Running Eagle had taken no food, only weapons and a water skin to sustain her through the days of her fast. She chose for her protection her bow, her short knife, and a light war club. It was a weapon that had never appealed to her, but her brother had urged her to take it. It could do no harm.
Bobcat had watched the girl set out, on foot and alone, with an odd premonition of danger. Strangely, though he felt that she was quite capable of taking care of herself, there was a sadness, a permanence, about this parting.
He continued to be uneasy as the days passed, feeling moody and depressed. He could not have explained it, this vague sensation of loss and separation. He told himself that it was only because he now faced the loss of his sister, who would come of age through the ritual of the vision quest.
He felt a great deal of relief, however, when a diversion offered itself. Bobcat had been for a cooling swim in the long, hot afternoon and was just stepping from the water when two of his friends rode up.
“Ah-koh
, Bobcat,” called Dark Cloud. “Get your horse and come with us.”
“Where?”
“There are antelope near Cedar Creek,” he pointed to the south. “Some of us are going on a hunt!”
Bobcat was already pulling on his leggings.
Aiee
, this was what he needed.
Running Eagle stood
at the edge of a rocky hilltop, looking once more at the world that had been hers for the past four suns. She hated to leave; the vision quest had been so satisfying and fulfilling.
She did not know what she had expected, but there was no way to describe the experience. The first pangs of hunger had given up and ceased to gnaw on the second day. It was after that that the brightness, the color, and the clarity of the world became apparent. It was true both in wakefulness and in her dream visions. She wandered in her mind's eye across the rolling prairie, not distinguishing dream from reality. She found herself inside the thoughts of the creatures around her. The timid maternal concern of the quail on her eggs under an overhanging grass clump was plain to her. Just as plain was the confidence of a majestic, old bull elk, his new antlers still furry at this season. She communed with an otter, who laughed at her over the accident in the swimming challenge. The thoughts of a rabbit who nibbled grass near the stone where she sat complimented her on her race, and she smiled.
In her delight at the ability to commune with all these creatures, she almost forgot that her mission was partly to search for her medicine animal. It was really no great surprise to her, however. Somehow, she had known it would be an eagle.
The puzzling thing was that nothing much transpired. She found it more difficult to understand the eagle than any of the other creatures. It merely came, sat on a broken dead tree stub at the rim of the canyon, and looked at her.
In vain, Running Eagle searched for some message, some meaning. The proud gaze of the bird was inspiring, uplifting, and seemed somehow urgent. But there was no apparent purpose, no direction. Ah well, perhaps it would come later. She remembered that her father had once said it was years before he understood his medicine animal.
She awoke and found that it had indeed been a sleep-dream. The sun was rising, and the prairie was coming alive for a new day. In the low spots along the stream, scraps of fog hung like wisps of smoke among the trees. The world was good.
Running Eagle took a little water from the skin and raised the chanting melody of the Morning Song to Sun Boy in the east. So great was her pleasure, her exaggerated enjoyment with the experience, that she felt she could stay here indefinitely. She knew otherwise, of course, but it was a delightful fantasy. She really must begin her return journey today to the camp of the People.
There were advantages to that, she realized. It would be good to break her fast, to eat again, though she felt no urgency in it. It would also be good to be with her family again, to feel its affection and support. She could talk with her brother and share some of her feelings about the vision quest. Some, but not all.
Best of all, she now admitted to herself as she gathered her few belongings, she would soon see Walker. She was ready to forget her petty anger at him. She did not fully understand his reasons for the Challenge, but was willing to
forgive him. Now, her vision quest behind her, she could begin to think again in terms of sharing his lodge.
She hung the club at her waist, picked up her bow and arrows, and swung her robe across her shoulder. She took a last glance around her camp site and then another long look at the green expanse of prairie, as if she had never seen it so clearly before. She turned toward the game trail which picked its way down the steep side of the hill.
Sun Boy was high before Running Eagle stopped by a shady spring of sparkling water. She drank long and deep, rested for a time, and moved on.
Shadows were lengthening before she saw the faint blue haze of smoke from the lodge fires of the People. She hurried on. Soon the conical shapes of the scattered lodges could be seen in the gathering dusk.
Then she noticed a strange sound, a prolonged wail, rising and falling in pitch but continuous in intensity. Alarmed, she stopped to listen. In a moment she was able to identify the cadence of the Mourning Song. Something was terribly wrong.
Anxiously she sprang forward, yet she forced herself to pace her stride and conserve her strength in order to reach the camp. Questions pounded in her head: Who was dead? What had happened? What was wrong?
Breathing hard, she trotted among the first of the lodges, looking for someone to ask. An old woman hobbled along, wailing loudly. Running Eagle caught at her arm, but the woman pulled away and staggered on, paying no attention.
The girl hurried toward a cluster of people near the center of the village, searching for someone to ask. The first person she encountered was Long Walker.
“Walker!” she shouted above the piercing wail of the Mourning Song. “What is it? What has happened?”
“Eagle Woman!”
Long Walker took both her hands in his, tragedy stark on his face. She ignored his unconscious use of her former name.
“Head Splitters stole part of the horse herd,” he began.
“Yes?”
“Some of our young men tried to stop them. Three were killed.”
“Three Head Splitters?”
“No, three of the People. No Head Splitters. Eagle Womanâ”
He paused, and the import of this news finally sank home. The girl grasped at his arm.
“Walker!” she demanded. “Who?”
“Your brother, Bobcat.”