Fireblossom (29 page)

"Please." Fox held up his hand. "I know you are angry at the white people, but as you said before, we are not all the same."

"No." He Dog took a deep breath, calming. "That's true. I have been unfair. As you said, we are angry."

"Why did you bring so many guns and so much food?" Kills Hungry Bear asked. "It is very good of you!"

"I brought them, but they are a gift from a man named Stephen Avery. Do you know of him? He spent a winter with a band of Lakota people many seasons ago. In fact, the woman who came with me is Stephen Avery's daughter." He waited to see if anyone would encourage him to continue.

"Huh." Kills Hungry Bear looked bored and the other men had begun carrying the crates of rifles away. "Those are repeaters? Most of us are spoiled now for the bow and arrow since we found repeating rifles."

The abrupt change in topic let Fox know that Stephen Avery's name was known to Kills Hungry Bear and the others. Perhaps his old friend even guessed why Maddie had come, but clearly no one wished to talk about Sun Smile—at least not yet. The Lakota took life one event, one subject, at a time and did not believe in rushing things. Fox was familiar enough with their ways to realize that Kills Hungry Bear would give him a cue when the time was right. His only problem was explaining the concept of patience to Maddie.

When the work was done and Watson and the mules had been watered and fed, Kills Hungry Bear suggested that Fox and he climb up Bear Butte and smoke.

They didn't go far. The bonfire was still in sight when they hunkered down on a rocky ledge and exchanged Kills Hungry Bear's pipe. Its bowl, of soft red stone, was carved in the shape of a bear, and its long stem was fashioned of gray ash wood. Plainly made, Fox recognized that this was his friend's everyday pipe, yet the ritual they shared would always be meaningful. When both men had smoked and shared a few minutes of silence, Fox spoke in a quiet voice.

"Your tobacco is good. Not too strong."

Kills Hungry Bear nodded, his eyes closed. "I mixed it with some willow bark and bearberries. Maybe a little bit of sumac leaves, too." He drew slowly on the pipe, then said, "The bluecoats are coming for us, I suppose. That is why you brought so many rifles. I guessed that it would happen, after we killed Long Hair and his soldiers at the Greasy Grass River. Some think that they will leave us alone now, but it will not happen. For every white man we kill, countless more come to take his place."

He fell silent, smoking, then added, "They will not let us have a victory. We will be punished for fighting for our lives and our freedom."

Fox said nothing at first. He looked at Kills Hungry Bear with his melancholy black eyes, proud features, and bronzed skin. Strips of fur were twisted around his freshly braided hair. As the pipe was handed back to him, it came to Fox how remarkable this simple ceremony was that they shared. When men passed the pipe and opened themselves, they could, together, cross a bridge from the earthly world to the spiritual. How little the white race knew of the mysteries of the universe.

"You do not answer," Kills Hungry Bear remarked.

"I was thinking how much I have missed the ways of your people," Fox said honestly. "But I will answer you. I think that you speak the truth, although I have no real knowledge. I do know that people in the Black Hills are very angry about all the bluecoats who were killed with Long Hair."

Kills Hungry Bear's eyes hardened. "Did you know that
he
was the one who made the Thieves' Road into our sacred land,
Paha Sapa,
which you call the Black Hills? I will never understand why your people must have everything you see, no matter who is hurt. The whites believe that we are foolish. It must be because we have followed their advice so readily. For many years, we believed the promises that were made to us, but the only promise that was kept was the promise to take our land." He shut his eyes again. "I do not like this feeling in my heart, but it has been put there by the treachery of your people. Some of the Lakota are tired of resisting. Only a few of us remain to fight for what has belonged to us since the Great Spirit created our world."

Listening to Kills Hungry Bear's plainly spoken truths, Fox felt some of the clouds of guilt and confusion break up inside him. "I agree with you, my friend. I am sorry for the wrongs that have been done. I wish I could change what has happened."

The Indian laid the pipe down between them and surveyed the boundless star-strewn sky. "Do you know Crazy Horse?"

"I saw him only one time, but I have heard many stories about him."

"He is a great leader. I would rather die fighting beside him than live by the white man's rules."

"Where is he now?"

Kills Hungry Bear grinned, his teeth strong and white in the darkness. "He is making life hard for the whites who are trying to steal
Paha Sapa
from us. How much I have come to understand by his side! He has spent his whole life seeking the true path through visions from
Wakan Tonka,
the Great Spirit. Many men do not understand such things fully until they are old, but Crazy Horse knows that
this
world is only a shadow of the
real
world. Since he was a boy, he has been able to get into the real world when
Wakan Tanka
gives him dreams."

Fox knew that it was through dreams that Lakota youths found their names as men. "I have heard that Crazy Horse was called Curly when he was a boy, and that in his visions he saw his horse dancing so he took the name Crazy Horse."

"Yes!" Kills Hungry Bear was pleased by his friend's knowledge. "Crazy Horse knows much. He has watched the ways the bluecoats fight and thought about how to use that knowledge in battle against them. He also has learned that if he goes to the
real
world, through his dreams, before a fight, he can bear any test.
Wakan Tanka
also gave him special powers that helped him lead us that day we killed Long Hair and all his men."

"Crazy Horse is a great warrior," Fox observed. It was hard for him to think too much about the underlying story, the tale of that day at Little Bighorn. Each time it came into his mind, he felt a dark weariness. The answer eluded him and he had no heart to search for it yet.

"Crazy Horse is a great human being," Kills Hungry Bear said. Then, without further ceremony, he picked up his pipe and got to his feet. "I am glad you came to us, Fox-With-Blue-Eyes. The guns and food you have brought us are sorely needed. We are grateful."

As they returned to the village, Fox asked casually, "Do you have a wife, my friend?"

"Yes. She was afraid and so I sent her to the agency. I don't know what to do yet." He sighed softly and shrugged. "Sometimes I think I should take another wife, but I miss Little Dove. We have children. It is hard to think of courting another wife. Some men can manage more than one, but I am not sure, if Little Dove and I are reunited, that I could do this."

Kills Hungry Bear had stopped outside his tipi. It had grown late and the village was quiet except for the muffled stirrings of the pony herd and the occasional owl hoot or coyote howl in the distance. Knowing that Maddie would be anxious for news, Fox decided to trade on the renewed intimacy he felt with his friend after their long conversation. "Kills Hungry Bear... I wonder if there is a woman here in this village who is called Sun Smile."

The warrior gave him a sidelong glance and lifted the opening flap of the tipi. A sleeping figure could be glimpsed inside and a small dog rose to greet the latecomer. "I am weary. We will talk some more later. I hope that you and the woman with fire hair sleep well and wake refreshed."

A moment later, Fox stood alone in the dark village.

* * *

Maddie was conscious first of an odd smell. Slowly she opened her eyes and it seemed that she must be dreaming. A soft coral light illumined strange objects and a painting on rawhide. A fire, surrounded by a ring of stones, burned low so that only molten embers remained. Her face was pressed against thick brown fur and it came to her that this was the source of the smell. Not unpleasant, but... foreign.
I am lying on a bed of buffalo fur,
she thought,
in an Indian tipi!
Then she remembered that she had finally grown bored and tired waiting for Fox and had lain down on the bed, hoping that no rodents or insects would crawl over her if she closed her eyes. Now it must be the middle of the night; it seemed that an eternity had passed. Where was Fox? Had something happened to him? The thought made her heart beat faster.

"Uhm-gh," groaned a low, masculine voice. An instant later, a lean-muscled arm rounded Maddie's waist and drew her close.

Joy welled up in her. In his sleep, Fox cupped Maddie's breast and nuzzled the side of her neck, then made another sound of contentment that slid into the deep breathing of slumber. Tears sprang to her eyes as she looked down at the strong, brown hand that held her fast. It was all she could do to resist turning in his embrace and kissing him awake. Instead, she touched his warm fingers, snuggled her bottom backward against him, beaming, and gazed into the orange fireglow. This wasn't a dream. Much was uncertain, but for tonight, this was enough.

This was everything.

* * *

"I am called Strong," the Lakota woman said to Maddie in halting English. "Because I can talk with you, you come with me." A proud smile shone on her angular face and she added, "Today."

Madeleine had been warned by Fox when he went off to hunt antelope with the men that someone might come for her. If the women wanted to make her feel welcome, rather than leaving her alone in the tipi, it was a good sign and she must not turn them away. However, he added, with a backward glance, Maddie must not ask about Sun Smile. She must leave that matter to him.

"How do you know English?" she asked Strong, emerging with her from the tipi into the sunlight.

"I stay at the... agency a long time. I want to learn what white people are saying about me. I ask the agent's woman to teach me to speak the words." Strong smiled again at Maddie, started to reach for her hand, then drew back shyly. "Come. I will show you our ways."

Maddie soon found herself working alongside the women of the village. First, Strong gave her a drink to freshen her mouth. Pure cold spring water filtered through fresh mint leaves tasted so good that Maddie drank deeply, then smiled at her new friend. She watched as some women scraped the hair from skins that were staked to the ground while others did washing with a soap Strong called
haipajaja.

Strong took Maddie with her and a few other women and children to dig
tinpsila,
a root plant that grew plentifully in the shadow of Bear Butte. The women tied them in bunches, then hung them on racks to dry after returning to the village. Strong explained that the white roots could be eaten raw, cooked in soup, or dried and stored for winter.

Many of the other fruits had passed their season. Gone were the strawberries, chokecherries, and wild currants, but the prickly pears were just beginning to ripen, and Strong picked one for Maddie to sample. The bright red fruit grew like jewels on the cactus and proved to be deliciously sweet and juicy.

When the sun rose high in the cerulean sky, Strong, Maddie, and the group of women and children filled their arms with the bunches of
tinpsila
and walked back to join the others in the village. Though dusty and perspiring, Maddie found that she enjoyed the sense of camaraderie that the women shared. It would be very pleasant to talk their language, she thought, to have a name that spoke for her, and to wear a soft, loose buckskin dress decorated to her own taste. White women rarely worked together this way, so they couldn't enjoy the conversation, laughter, and sympathy that accompanied shared tasks.

"I am learning much about your people that I like," she said to Strong, with a slight flush.

"It is good that you can learn," her new friend replied as they approached the village's edge. "Many of your race look down on us. They think that we are the ones who must learn."

"I regret that my people couldn't let yours live in peace," Maddie said honestly.

"Everything has changed. They have killed all the buffalo, which were our... livelihood." Strong gave a sad smile as she found the word. As the day went on, her English returned with more facility.

Maddie listened closely as Strong explained how the women had tried to adapt to life without the buffalo—or, at least, with far, far fewer of them. Now that white hunters had laid waste to the millions of buffalo that had once thundered over the plains, the Lakota tried to make do with deer, bear, antelope, even prairie dogs. Once, she said, a woman's work centered around making careful use of every part of the buffalo except the offal. Nothing else was wasted. Not only were the meat and hide essential, but even the ribs became sleds and toys, the horns were made into spoons, the outer lining of the stomach was used as a container for water, and the hooves were boiled for glue.

"We treated the buffalo with respect," Strong maintained. "We killed only as many as we truly needed, just as the Great Spirit intended."

Maddie averted her eyes, ashamed for the wasteful plunder of the white men. No one else spoke of it, but the sadness of change was in the air. Life was not the same as it had been since the world was created, and everyone seemed to understand that there was no going back.

* * *

"They make this food that they're so proud of!" Maddie whispered excitedly to Fox as they tended to the mules and Watson. The wagon was a few hundred yards from the village, but still she spoke as softly as she could, fearing someone would overhear and take offense. Everything that she had seen and learned that day was stored inside her, waiting to be shared with Fox. Now, as he brushed Watson and listened with fond attention, the words spilled out. "Strong called it
hash,
but it wasn't like any hash I ever heard of before. They roasted dry meat and pounded it with a special stone hammer and added some chokecherries. Then they melted fresh grease and mixed it with the pounded chokecherries and meat. Strong said that if this hash were properly kept, it would harden and remain edible for a long time." She stuck out her tongue and made a comical face to let Fox know what she thought of that.