Authors: Janelle Taylor
Cloud Chaser knew his brother was distracted from the harsh reality below them. But he understood why the younger warrior felt and reacted as he did: love and desire for his captive and the hope that one day they could have a special relationship,
a bond and union like those he, Cloud Chaser, shared with Dawn and Wind Dancer shared with Dewdrops. He recalled War Eagle’s strayed attention to the action in progress when he said he saw Spotted Tail, Crazy Horse, Long Chin, and Red Leaf—brothers of slain Chief Brave Bear—Little Thunder, and some of their band members evading Harney’s snare and obtaining freedom. But maybe not for long, he feared, as he saw dragoons in hot pursuit, slaying the rear guards or slow movers with ease. Other soldiers began to check the motionless bodies and round up prisoners. He heard the bugler sound the recall order, but knew some companies were probably out of hearing range and would keep up their quest of total victory for a while.
“Do you say we track our allies and speak to them on this matter?” Cloud Chaser asked their party leader as he gazed into the canyon.
His decision made fast, War Eagle responded, “Yes, let us ride, my brother and friends. We must find and talk with our allies. We will tell them what we saw and why we could not help them battle the enemy this sun.”
River’s Edge remarked, “They will know we could not help them, for they could not help themselves and were forced to flee this strong enemy.”
War Eagle said, “That is true, my friend, but I do not want them to think we were too weak or afraid to ride to their defense. Sometimes a man’s thoughts are clouded when he suffers such great losses and shame. His mind must clear before he understands and accepts that we could not take such a futile risk, for five warriors would not have changed this sun’s defeat. But we can tell them what we observed and reveal the number and strength of the white war chief’s forces and actions, for we had the eagle’s view of the sneak attack and saw more than our allies could in the valley.”
As the other men listened and nodded, War Eagle continued, “Harney did not speak false or overlarge words in his warning threat through the mouth of Agent Twiss; he attacks
Lakotas who do not surrender their lands and leave them so his people can steal them. The bluecoats are many and have powerful weapons, so we cannot help our allies rescue the captives, or make such a rash attempt ourselves. This white war chief is cunning; he will camp and wait nearby to see if others return to lay the slain ones on death scaffolds or to gather their bodies to do so elsewhere. To try either deed would be foolish and deadly, for it would be riding into a trap.”
After those conclusions entered his mind, War Eagle altered his prior decision. “I must change my words. We will track and speak with our allies later, for we must remain here for a time to learn all we can about this sly and cruel enemy leader. We must see if he slays the captives or sends them to one of the forts. If they are kept alive, perhaps we can join forces with more allies and free them.”
“To band together and attack a fort is to make war on them.”
War Eagle replied to the unseasoned but trained and skilled warrior, “We did not strike the first blow, my cousin. They made war on Lakotas.”
Broken Lance reminded him in a respectful tone, “That is not what the white leaders and soldiers believe; they think they retaliate for the slayings of Grattan and his followers. That was in Agent Twiss’s message.”
“Has Cloud Chaser not told us what he learned at Fort Laramie before the past winter came? My brother said the white leaders far away were told both sides of the Grattan battle, but they choose not to believe the truth. They choose to forget Chief Brave Bear and other Brules were slain before the first arrow was fired in defense. They choose to forget only Brules and a few Minneconjou friends fought against Grattan on that sun. They choose to attack
all
Lakotas and to order us off our lands. Even if we do not attack them, Broken Lance, if we stay on our hunting and camping grounds, they will attack us. Even if we do not strike the next blow, we
must defend our lives and our territory, my cousin, for they were given to us by the Creator.”
After Broken Lance agreed he was right, War Eagle said, “Swift Otter and I will soon go scout the bluecoat chief’s movements. When he halts, I will hide and watch Mad Dog while Swift Otter returns for you, my brother and friends. But if we are seen and captured, do not risk your lives to rescue us. We will find a way to escape their grasp.”
It was midday when the Red Shields saw the weary-looking dragoons return with a few captives, and the massive force made ready to leave the body-strewn area. By then, wagons had been loaded with wounded women and children and with four dead and four injured soldiers. Within a short time, the rolling travois were rumbling down the canyon toward the river, three bluecoats with minor wounds riding on horses beside them. The remaining prisoners walked close behind the wooden conveyances, their heads hung in dejection and with some women trying to comfort frightened little ones or assist the aged. Already many vultures were circling overhead, waiting for safety before they swooped down on that tragic site.
War Eagle and his party knew the land scavengers—mainly wolves and coyotes—would be arriving soon to claim their share of the offerings, for the scents of death and blood were in the air. The Red Shields wished they could put the bodies out of the birds’ and creatures’ reach in caves sealed with rocks, but the cunning and determined Harney had posted lookouts on several hills, no doubt to watch for such a deed.
War Eagle said, “Come, Swift Otter, we ride to trail our enemies.”
* * *
War Eagle and Swift Otter had watched as General Harney and his troops halted and began to set up camp near the mouth of Blue Water Creek and within sight of Kampeskawakpa Waziyata, the North Platte River. The visible wagon ruts on the Mormon Trail on the north side and those of the Oregon Trail on the south, which cut into the face of Mother Earth and scarred it, exposed the crossings of numerous white settlers and other wagons for the passings of the last nine and twelve circles of the seasons. As soon as it was evident to them that the soldiers would travel no farther, Swift Otter had left to retrieve the others.
War Eagle admitted to himself while he waited for his companions that several Indian bands or small parties of braves had raided a few of the cloth-covered travois and had wounded or slain some of those people. But the soldiers and other whites had wounded or slain Indians for various reasons, and evildoers had stolen the furs and hides of Indians or cheated them in trading. Yet, the majority of whites had passed through or crossed their lands unharmed and mostly ignored; and on the whole, the treaty had been honored by the bands of most tribes. His people did not punish the Pawnee for misdeeds by the Shoshone, nor one band of the Crow for the evil actions of another. As Cloud Chaser had said, the whites did not punish the French for wrongdoings by the Spanish, or declare war on an entire nation for the “crimes” of a few men or a small group of people. Yet, the “Americans” were starting a war on
all
Lakotas for the offenses and alleged bad deed of Little Thunder’s and Spotted Tail’s Brules and some of their friends.
How, War Eagle wondered, could whites—if there were many good ones among them like Caroline and David Sims, Red Wolf’s mother, and Cloud Chaser’s mother and adoptive parents—accept and explain such a contradiction? Was Good not stronger than Bad? Was Good not always victorious over Evil even if the battle between them was long and hard and often painful? What about their Creator and His
laws, the ones that those called “Spanish missionaries” said commanded them to not—
War Eagle ceased his mental roamings and glanced behind him when he heard muffled sounds and saw his companions coming to join him so they could all watch the camp of the bluecoats to see what action they took next.
From another high vantage point not far away, the movements in the camp were visible to all five men without the aid of the field glasses. For the present, they saw that the captives were being held in a group that was encircled by soldiers, about seventy women and children, as the warriors were either dead or had fled with other survivors. They heard sorrowful wailings of mourners and groans of the wounded, though those sad sounds were low at their distance away. To their astonishment and joy, the saw some soldiers and a man Cloud Chaser called a “doctor” tending wounds. A few were laid beneath brush shelters to keep them out of the sun, and all prisoners were being offered food and water.
“These bluecoats and their leader are strange. Why do they slay and injure, then help those they have harmed badly?”
War Eagle replied, “I do not know, River’s Edge. Perhaps they seek to trick the Lakotas with false kindness so they will reveal where the others have fled or they will give the bluecoats no trouble as captives.”
Cloud Chaser added, “Or perhaps they fear the good people among the whites will turn against them for cruel deeds, for many will believe it is wrong and evil to slay women and children. Or perhaps a few of the soldiers have good hearts as with Caroline, her brother, and those who adopted me.”
War Eagle said, “We will watch to see what happens to our allies. We must learn if the white war chief’s thirst for revenge has been quenched by the blood of the Brules or if he will still attack all Lakotas as he threatened. If he wars against all of us, we will have no choice except to battle him.” He touched the small medicine pouch suspended around his neck and hoped the magic tokens he had collected over the years and
the scrimshaw circle and dried flower were good luck charms against the enemy’s evil. If Harney was sated and turned back, he could go home and see his heart’s desire…
After dark, countless campfires were visible to the observant War Eagle and his party; that is, until another violent thunderstorm with brilliant flashes of lightning and a torrential downpour occurred. To the Red Shields, it was as if the Great Spirit was showing His anger at the slaughter and destruction He had witnessed earlier that day. For safety, they hurried to bluff caves to seek shelter from the bad weather. There, they ate and four slept while one stood guard nearby, though they doubted any soldier scout would be out riding in the fierce storm.
Early the next morning, War Eagle and his party watched as the captives, after they were given food and water, were gathered into a herd like buffalo or pronghorn and were led down the well-worn trail toward Fort Kearny. The prisoners afoot followed wagons that were loaded with the injured and all were surrounded by a heavy guard as they departed. It was a unit much too large and powerfully armed for five men to attack to free the captives, and the surviving members of their families probably were far away by now and trying to recover from a stunning defeat and loss of their food supply, tepees, and other possessions. Even so, the remaining force numbered in the many, many hundreds. That told the Red Shield party that Harney was not satisfied with his punishment of the Brules and was not returning to Fort Kearny and to wherever he had come from before being sent there. It was evident by his actions that the white war chief intended to continue his scourge on all Lakotas.
While the other three men stayed behind to observe Harney and his troops, with great caution and stealth War Eagle and
Swift Otter left and skirted the army’s sprawling position to see what the unit of soldiers had left to do in the Indian camps, as they had ridden in that direction. Since it was not the Red Shield way to mutilate slain bodies, they hoped the same was true of the bluecoats, as that would be a grave and challenging offense.
After secreting themselves in the westward bluffs, the two warriors watched most of the soldiers search the camp while a few others did the same with the surrounding area, as if they were making certain no survivors were hiding nearby and none of the escapees had returned for their dead or belongings. As soon as the smaller group completed its scouting task, they rounded up Indian horses grazing here and there and herded them down the canyon. The Red Shields saw vultures and crows circling overhead and coyotes and a few wolves lurking in the underbrush and rocks, probably frightened off by the soldiers’ approach before their own arrival.
Using the field glasses, War Eagle grimaced as he saw the condition of the scattered bodies; numerous scavengers had been working on them yesterday and during the night. Even if their remains had not been properly prepared for their final journey and put upon scaffolds, he decided, surely the Creator had summoned their brave spirits to His sacred location. War Eagle closed his eyes for a minute and prayed that their souls were at peace now, and he prayed nothing like this would happen to his people and Caroline.
He sighted soldiers collecting weapons, winter food supplies, buffalo robes, clothing, and other possessions. Some were tossed onto a wagon and others were thrown into a heap, which grew larger with more additions to it. Tepees were pulled down and added to the pile, their lodge poles left where they had fallen. Then, to his astonishment, men flung something like water on the mound and used “magic fire sticks” to set it ablaze. He noted how fast the flames licked at and consumed or ruined the things amassed there, cruelly destroying months and years of hard work by his allies.
War Eagle could not help but recall how the vision-quest party, led by Wind Dancer and Chumani, had used “magic fire sticks” four summers ago during some of their raids and tricks, after she had traded for them at the Pierre post before it became a military fort three full moons past. It was obvious to him that the soldiers were keeping—stealing—the meat and other foods, horses, robes, weapons, and other things for their use or as war prizes or to use in raiding. It also was apparent that the crafty and brutal Harney had made sure any returning Brules would be left with nothing to sustain their lives during the harsh winter looming ahead. Unless, War Eagle reasoned, the survivors hurriedly carried out another buffalo hunt or pleaded with allies for replacements or raided forts and homesteads for their needs, or they surrendered as the fierce slayer desired.