Tyoga raised his head and stepped toward Seven Arrows with determined measured steps. “He is here, Descota,” he repeated in a demonic voice that was no longer his own.
Seven Arrows stumbled over himself backing away from the frightfully cold glowing eyes that were filled with hatred and murderous intent. He fell to the ground, but quickly rose to his knees before the advancing Wahaya-Wacon. He got to his feet and ran as fast as he could for the safety of South Fork.
Tyoga watched the coward retreat in horror at what he had witnessed. When Seven Arrows was no more than a speck in the distance, he turned and returned back through the woods. His visit to the river’s edge to quiet his soul would have to wait for another time. He did not want to face the horrible truth that the river’s surface was sure to reveal. The water would accept no mask nor suffer disguise. It would reflect the naked truth that tethered him forever to his spirit guide.
The reconciliation of colliding truths would have to wait.
Chapter 24
The Call to Council
T
he evening shadows were filled with the thunderous beat of the ceremonial drums. It was the signal that Yellow Robe and the Shawnee elders were ready to receive the Cherokee delegation.
Silver Cloud and the others were on edge. Their brief welcoming encounter gave no hint about the true nature of the Shawnee’s invitation to council. The parlez would be about the death of six Shawnee braves, and reparations would surely be demanded for the loss. How the meeting would end, and what repayment would be demanded was anyone’s guess.
The sound of the drums poured into the Ani-Unwiya’s lean-to with a thunderous roar that filled the Cherokee with dread. Seated around the fire, they looked into each other’s eyes and recognized the fear they each harboured within their own trembling hearts.
Chief Silver Cloud stood up. With confidence in his eyes and courage in his heart, he looked at each member of the tribe seated at his feet. His gaze paused at each one in turn. He nodded his head, and the group rose in unison. Exiting the lodge, they headed for South Fork.
T
he sound of the drums grew in intensity as the small band approached the village. The space between the staccato beats filled with the resonating sound of the drumheads until the thunderous noise melded into an atonal cascade devoid of measure and beat.
It was obvious that the entire village had turned out to mark their arrival. The Shawnee stood shoulder to shoulder to create a wall through which there was no discernable opening for them to pass. There was no mistaking this pageantry for a welcome greeting. It was an intimidating display made all the more ominous by the deafening roar of the repetitive drums and the rattlesnake sizzle of ankle bells and cowry shells.
As they neared the human wall, Tyoga and Tes Qua feared for Silver Cloud’s safety.
What if the people would not part to allow him to proceed into the village?
The act would be a gesture of disrespect and hostility so intolerable that propriety would demand nothing less than all out war.
“Tes Qua, ech ta eh alo,” Tyoga said while quickening his pace.
Just as they got to either side of Silver Cloud, the Chief held out his hand to indicate that they were not to pass in front of him. They slowed their pace, but stayed within striking distance of their chief.
Without slowing his pace, Silver Cloud marched defiantly up to the wall of Shawnee. With but two steps left between him and the human stockade, the sheer force of his dignified presence caused a gap to open. The human wall yawned a widening pathway that led to the edge of the ceremonial fire ring. Silver Cloud stopped and stood in the glow of the bonfire. Surrounded by the deafening, threatening din, the Cherokee waited.
The haunting chant continued to build in intensity and volume until it broke into a wild chorus of howls, hoops, and high-pitched screams when their chief made his appearance.
With pompous excess befitting his station, Chief Yellow Robe stepped out of the darkness, and into the amber glow of the enormous fire. The Shawnee chief had been transformed from the man that they had met earlier that afternoon. Underneath the glorious yellow buffalo robe, the Chief wore a beautiful doehide tunic with matching leggings that glowed a powdery butternut in the light of the flickering flames. The luster of a dozen necklaces strung with chickpea-size fresh water pearls bridged the deep V of the chamois-soft chemise. Bathed in the fire’s amber glow, the pearls cleaved the light into beams of dazzling color that danced from the ochre painted skin of his broad muscular chest. Deer hide fringe and tufts of feathery fox fur were sewn into the seams of each sleeve of the tunic. The mid-thigh bottom hem was ringed with red squirrel tails. His leggings were similarly fringed. The length of the fringe from the waist to mid-calf decreased as it descended his long muscular legs. His tunic was ornately appointed with elegant needlework patterns made of tiny puka shells, bone shards, and soap stone. The talons of an eagle were outlined on his left breast, and five bear claws decorated the right. Metal bracelets fashioned from various ores were wrapped around his wrists, and multicolored leather laces looped around both forearms.
The most striking difference between the Yellow Robe that greeted the group earlier in the day and the man who stood before them now was the black war paint that covered the top half of his face. From a line that ran laterally from each nostril to the lobe of each ear, and all the way to the top of his shaved head, his face had been smeared with bear grease infused with the coal and ash of burned walnut wood. The umber pigments contained in the heartwood of the walnut tree gave a reddish tinge to the black bear grease to add a demonic dimension to the chief’s appearance.
Accentuated by the blackness that surrounded each socket, his eyes flashed an incredulous expression of surprised intent, which was oddly disconnected from a premeditated plan. A two-inch stripe of red ochre ran below the blackness of the top half of his head across his cheeks to his upper lip.
He wore a crown made from the antlers of a white tail buck. Like pleading hands begging the heavens for mercy, the ten points reached to the heavens in a magnificent display of nature’s symmetry and balance. The breathtaking crown added nearly two feet to Yellow Robe’s already impressive stature.
He raised the scepter that he was carrying in his right hand high into the air.
The drums stopped.
All grew deathly silent.
In a tone and volume that seemed inappropriately mild for the occasion, Yellow Robe said, “I welcome the members of the Ani-Unwiya Cherokee to the land of the Shawnee and to our homes at South Fork. You have come in peace and you will be treated as our honored guests. There is much for us to discuss. First, we will eat.”
Silver Cloud only nodded at the end of the welcoming speech and stepped aside when Yellow Robe and the other Shawnee tribal elders made their way through the crowd to the place of honor where they and their Cherokee guests would eat the evening meal. Silver Cloud followed behind the last of the Shawnee elders and took his seat next to Yellow Robe. The rest of the delegation sat down behind the elders on the pallet of bear, beaver and elk hides.
As they took their seats,Tyoga said to Tes Qua, “Do you see them in the shadows? They are along the tree line to the north.”
Tes Qua answered, “Yes, I see them. They are down along the river too.”
Sentries were posted all around the circumference of the village.
“I guess they reckon that we’re both pretty dangerous fellas,” Tyoga said to Tes Qua with a wink of his eye. Tes Qua managed only a nervous grin as he took his seat behind the elders.
Sunlei sat down in between Tyoga and her brother.
Praire Day, who had taken a seat between her father and White Wolf, got up and sat down on the other side of Tyoga.
Taking notice of the move, Sunlie fidgeted nervously and moved closer to Tyoga.
The elders ate in silence while staring straight ahead into the darkness of the night. The Shawnee villagers ate with vigor while laughing over friendly conversation, and dodging the children who were allowed to run wildly through the crowd while chasing dogs and chickens. The Shawnee served generous portions of elk and bear, maize and beans, and a pleasant beverage made of a blend of fermented peach and apple ciders.
While the crowd ate and drank with ever increasing revelry, Tyoga sensed a disquieting agitation growing in the young Shawnee braves. The others felt it, too.
“Ty?” Sunlei’s questioning tone indicated her nervousness at the boisterous advances of the crowd.
“It’s okay, Sunlei. They don’t mean no harm. They’re just hoping to make us uneasy, that’s all. No need to worry.”
Sitting on the outside edge of the dining group, Prairie Day was the closest to the Shawnee mob. She moved in closer to Tyoga so that their knees were touching.
He turned to her. “It’s okay, Prairie Day.”
Tes Qua said, “Ty, you see the one with the eagle feathers in his braid and the scar on his face?”
“Yeah, I see him, Tes,” Tyoga replied.
“You see the way he is looking at Sunlei?”
“Easy, Tes Qua.”
Tyoga watched the young brave who was drinking more than he was eating while grinning lustfully at Sunlei. He was stroking his crotch vulgarly while his companions egged him on with their drunken laughter and taunting.
Recognizing the sensations that presaged the sizzle that would drain his eyes of hazel-green, Tyoga took slow deep breaths. “Tes, do you see Seven Arrows?”
“Nay-ya, ditlihi,” Tes Qua replied.
As the crowd of young braves grew in size and revelry, the Cherokee women were getting more and more upset. Some of the braves started a slow seductive dance around the ceremonial fire while the Shawnee women kept time with their ankle bells.
When he saw Sunlei’s eyes well with tears, Tyoga knew that he needed to do something to divert her attention to more pleasant thoughts. He leaned over to her. “Sunlei, you sure were right about packing some extra blankets for our trip over the mountains. It got pretty cold last night."
“See. You should always listen to what your woman has to say.” She wiped the tears from her eyes and lightly pushing him with her left shoulder.
Prairie Day took the opportunity to move even closer to him.
“You’re right,” he said playfully pushing her back with his shoulder. “I would have frozen if you hadn’t covered me with that red blanket in the night.”
Putting another mouthful of beans and squash into her mouth, Sunlei replied, “What are you talking about, Ty? I didn’t cover you with a blanket last night. I was sound asleep.”
Tyoga said no more.
The women who had been keeping the beat with their ankle bells as the men danced around the fire, now joined them in a more vigorous stomping dance. The CHING-cha-CHHING-cha-CHING of their ankle bells grew in volume as more and more women entered the circle and joined the slow walk-dance. Some elderly women started a quiet chant that the younger girls did not seem to recognize. The men made their way over to the ceremonial drums.
Abruptly, Sunlei stopped chewing, furrowed her brow, and looked over at Tyoga. “I didn’t cover you with a blanket last night.”
Prairie Day’s fingers lightly tapped Tyoga’s left knee. He glanced over at her and saw the gentle smile dimple her cheeks.
They all looked up as the drums began the staccato call to council.
Chapter 25
The Price
T
he crescendo of the drums’ cadence built to a deafening roar while a lone chanter uttered a high-pitched soliloquy about Chief Yellow Robe’s bravery in battle.
When the song of tribute ended, the chief rose to his feet. The drums quieted to a slow rhythmic pattern devoid of accent or measure. The Shawnee elders slowly rose after their chief and faced the enormous ceremonial fire.
The Cherokee delegation remained seated, and rose to their feet only after the Shawnee elders followed Yellow Robe toward the ceremonial lodge.
Concerned for the safety of their women, Tyoga, Tes Qua, and White Wolf lagged behind the elders. They did not want them to walk unescorted through the dark, moonless night to their temporary lodging on the south perimeter of the village. Fortunately, the same group of women who had brought the food and blankets to them earlier in the day stepped forward and gathered the Cherokee women in a very loving and gentle way. They indicated that they would take care of them in a nearby lodge, and that they would stay with them until the men were finished with their parlez.
Sunlei let go of Tyoga’s hand reluctantly when they were gently led away.
Prairie Day was the last to follow the ladies into the lodge. Before entering the lodge of Runs With Elk, she turned toward Tyoga and with the faintest head nod of affirmation, she flashed a confident smile. Her subtle gesture said, “I trust in you. Do not be afraid. You will do the right thing at council.”
He nodded in recognition of the message her smile had sent.
The ceremonial lodge was actually Yellow Robe’s home. Larger than all of the other lodges in the village, the ceremonial portion was built at the north end of the structure in recognition of the wisdom represented by that direction of the compass. The buffalo was the medicine animal of the Shawnee and its majesty signified wisdom and deliberation. Hides of the mighty beast covered the ground surrounding the ceremonial fire that was already ablaze in the pit. Thirty wide and three deep, the buffalo robes were luxuriously warm and comfortable to allow the men to sit and talk late into the night.
Stands on Rock, the Shawnee Shaman, escorted each member of the Cherokee delegation to their seat around the council fire. Direction playing an important role in Native American deliberations, random seating was rarely permitted at formal gatherings.
Chief Yellow Robe began.
“Ey ya chinco sa
(My brothers)
ye yo tsalagia
(of the Cherokee nation)
sota loge ey alo
(have gathered with us)
this day to discuss matters that have caused my people to suffer. While the heart in my chest continues to beat, it is a heart that is filled with sadness and pain. Two of my own sons have been lifted to the sky. They walk no more in this world.”