Journal of Cortez Modrables

June 18, 1877

White Bird, Joseph, Ollokot, and Toohoolhoolzote met in council and decided that all the people should leave Lahmotta and cross the Salmon River to the lands of the Pikunans. They thought that the soldiers would have trouble following the bands in that rugged country.

With the announcement of the plan to cross the Salmon River, the women immediately started building bull boats for moving the bundles through the high waters of the spring runoff. Welweyas, Cortez learned, was very skilled and efficient at this task. He, also, found that it was an interesting process and tried to lend a hand at weaving the green willow saplings to form the framework for the buffalo hides. Welweyas stopped him with a firm scolding. “This is work for women. They know how the willows must be twisted to make the hides strong to hold out the water. You, my tiwet, should only shake your rattle over the boats and say chants in a blessing that the river spirit will carry them across the water.”

Cortez was surprised at Welweyas’s words. The woman/man had never spoken strongly to him before, but he was right. Welweyas knew that his place was with the women. The shaman needed to remember his own place.

While the bands made preparations to leave Lahmotta, the party of buffalo hunters that included Samuel and Spotted Horse joined the troubled bands. They had come from the south over the mountains from Montana Territory on the old Nez Perce Trail. The other hunters were Pakatos Owyen (Five Wounds) and Wahchumyus (Rainbow). Cortez was very glad to see his brother Samuel and Samuel’s father Spotted Horse. Their greetings were kept short, however, as Cortez had to tell them what had happened. Samuel’s mother Rahab had been at Lapwai since the band left for the buffalo country. Rahab would have been very opposed to the fighting. Samuel and Spotted Horse were no longer grinning, for they had to face a difficult decision. Spotted Horse chose to leave immediately to join Rahab at Lapwai.

Samuel faced his brother and asked, “What will you do, Simahichen Tim? Rachel is a Christian and she will want to stay on the reservation. If you stay with the non-treaty bands, now that there is war, you will never be able to join her.”

“Your question is one that I have been asking myself ever since the fighting started,” replied Cortez. “You know that Rachel’s mother and father are in the Alpowai band, led by Looking Glass, who is very opposed to any fighting. I don’t know what I will do. I’m afraid that I would be jailed as one of White Bird’s advisers if I show up in Lapwai. And if White Bird is captured, he would be jailed and maybe hanged. If you hurry, Samuel, you can catch Spotted Horse and be with your family.”

“No Simahichen Tim. My people are here, and you are my brother. I belong here. I’m a man and a Ni-mi-pu warrior. The reservation is too small. I need to be free.”

Journal of Cortez Modrables

June 19, 1877

Today we spent crossing the Salmon River at a place near the mouth of Lahmotta Creek. We had only one canoe, but the women had made several hide boats using green willow branches. The hide boats worked very well loaded down with baggage. Old people and small children rode on top the baggage. We swam the horses and cattle across and used ropes tied to the hide boats to guide them. About thirty warriors stayed on the east side of the river to watch for soldiers. We set up the new camp on a stream high up on the bluff where we couldn’t be seen but we could watch the river and Lahmotta Canyon for soldiers.

Journal of Cortez Modrables

June 21, 1877

The soldiers sent from Fort Lapwai have withdrawn to Cottonwood and Grangeville. Our scouts on the east side of the Salmon River have seen troops of civilians out looking for us. The civilians and soldiers have built barricades at Mount Idaho, Cottonwood, and Grangeville. They must fear that the Indians have gone completely wild and are considering attacking these settlements. The chiefs have no intention of attacking anyone and wish that the army would just leave.

The battle two days ago happened only because the soldiers were about to attack our camp as we slept, and then they shot at our people carrying a white truce flag. I’m very ashamed of the Nez Perce men who murdered white men in revenge for past wrongs and then went on terrorizing, raping, and robbing settlers who had never been enemies. I’m even more disappointed with the army and General Howard for attacking our camp as an act of war when there had been no declaration of war. It was the intention of all the chiefs to go onto the reservation and we had only retreated to Lahmotta to avoid being taken by the army.

The chiefs, and most of the warriors, hoped to avoid battles with the army by continuing to move. In the rugged and wild area between the Snake and the Salmon Rivers, this was possible. Even the combined bands could move faster and more easily than the army with all its foot soldiers and supply trains. The Ni-mi-pu feed themselves off the land. The soldiers must have wagons and mule trains packed with provisions. The chiefs hoped that by moving frequently, the bands could make the soldiers and their stock so tired and hungry that they would not want to fight and just leave.

Samuel and Cortez talked about these things and about their futures. Samuel had a warrior’s blood and Cortez a Jewish doctor’s blood. Cortez knew that Samuel didn’t want to kill, yet he was sure that his brother would be a fierce warrior if his people were under attack. Samuel might even become a Dreamer, despite his mother’s strong Christian teachings. He had shown Cortez his “spirit shirt,” which he believed would protect him from white men’s bullets in a battle.

Cortez hoped for an opportunity to see Rachel or get a letter to her. He wanted her to know from him what had happened. But Samuel could no longer travel to Lapwai without risking capture and jail. Rachel had probably heard only one side of the fighting story. He felt even more distant from her than ever, yet he still loved her deeply. At this time, Cortez felt there was a chasm between them deeper and more treacherous than the river gorges that he looked down on from the Pikunans’ land.

Journal of Cortez Modrables

June 26, 1877

General Howard arrived at the Lahmotta battle area with about seven hundred soldiers. They buried the dead soldiers that they found there. We could see General Howard and other officers studying the place where the non-treaty bands had crossed the Salmon River. They seemed to be looking for boats to cross. It was the hope of the chiefs that Howard would bring all his troops across to chase us. The army brought several Reservation Ni-mi-pu with him as scouts. Our scouts and his scouts shouted insults and challenges at each other across the river.

I worry more and more about what might happen if the army conquers the non-treaty bands. There will be many killed and wounded. I will be needed to help the wounded, but then I might be made a prisoner or even tried in court as a trouble-making shaman/Dreamer, and sent to Indian Territory or even hanged. What would soldiers do to a white man who has chosen to live with Indians and thus is seen as an enemy?

I also wonder, if the non-treaty bands should surrender now, what would happen to the people and what would happen to me? Would the Reservation Nez Perce want us with them?

Cortez put down his journal. He had written what might someday be important.

Samuel had been watching with some amusement. “Did you put in your book what you think all of this is going to mean, Simahichen Tim?”

“My thoughts are hard to put down, but I wrote about some things, such as what would happen to us if the army down there by the river caught us.”

“Are you frightened, Simahichen Tim?”

“Of course. All should be frightened when there are several hundred soldiers within sight who want to shoot an Indian. Aren’t you?”

Samuel gazed off across the Salmon River Gorge to the distant Bitterroot Mountains—remembering the freedom of the Montana Territory buffalo prairies—knowing the answer he must give Cortez. “I’m not afraid of the soldiers shooting me. They are terrible shots, and I have my “spirit shirt.” I am afraid for our people and how I will face death trying to protect them. My father taught me many things about courage, but one thing that he never taught me is how to live under soyapo laws that take away freedom. I don’t know how I would act faced with many guns that tell me what I can’t do or where I can’t go. Spotted Horse is in Lapwai with my mother, Simahichen Tim. Can you tell me how to have the courage to live without freedom?”

“Samuel, you are asking me a question that I can’t answer. I have asked myself the same question many times, especially when I think of a future life with Rachel. You and your people have taught me to live in freedom. Before we met on the prairie above the Missouri River, all I knew was a life under the laws and restrictions of civilization. I had my parent’s love and teaching, but I had never known a life of true freedom. Dos Manos and the other ponies showed me what it is to live in freedom. They know the excitement of running across the prairies, not being held back by fences or reins. Our ponies could leave us if they wanted, but they don’t. They like us. We like them. Would they like us if we hooked them up to a plow?”

Cortez go so excited over his analogy that he hopped to his feet and danced around Samuel, who started laughing—until the brothers saw dust kick up ten feet below the ledge where they had been sitting, watching the soldiers below. Evidently a soldier had thought that he could kill an Indian dancing in some heathen ritual.

Samuel and Cortez retreated farther up the slope—possibly having learned some of their answers.

Journal of Cortez Modrables

June 27, 1877

The women in camp feel uneasy and can’t sleep, worrying about the soldiers nearby. They have heard stories of how soldiers attack camps and kill women and children. The bands have moved higher into the mountains to a place where the Pottoosway medicine tree grows. From here we can move north. Toohoolhoolzote’s band lived here, so they know the country well and think that the army will have much trouble following us.

Journal of Cortez Modrables

June 28, 1877

Samuel and I stayed with the rear guard of warriors to watch the army getting ready to cross the Salmon. The army appeared to have gathered all the boats they could find. We counted about 500 soldiers. They have two field guns with many barrels and a small cannon. Samuel laughed at the army’s way of making war against Indians. The big guns might do damage to a village, but Nez Perce warriors fight as individuals, who spread out and move faster than a big gun can be set up.

The soldiers don’t know how to build hide boats like the Nez Perce. Crossing rivers at flood stage is far more difficult for the army than for us.

It’s good to be with Samuel again, but I realize that we are no longer boys who can wrestle, tease, and laugh when the tension is high. I feel sad for the loss of the days when Culculshensah and Willow Woman were still living, and little responsibility was expected of Samuel and me.

Journal of Cortez Modrables

June 29, 1877

We have traveled again to the Salmon River, at the north point of the bend where it starts to swing southwest toward the Snake. This place is called Craig’s Ferry by the white people, but there is no ferryboat here now. We start building our hide boats again.

Journal of Cortez Modrables

June 30, 1877

Our scouts have reported that General Howard and all of his troops are crossing the Salmon to follow us. This is what the chiefs had hoped would happen. It will take days for them to travel along the rough ridge to Craig’s Ferry. By then it is planned that the Ni-mi-pu will have safely re-crossed the Salmon and moved on to the Clearwater River Valley.

Journal of Cortez Modrables

July 2, 1877

Today, we traveled slowly eastward across the Camas Prairie north of the white settlement of Cottonwood. We saw white civilians from time to time, watching us from a distance.

Journal of Cortez Modrables

July 3, 1877

A group of our warriors came upon an army patrol of twelve soldiers and killed them all. There was also a fight with some civilians near Cottonwood. One of our old warriors, Weesculatat, was wounded in three places. I tried to treat his wounds, but two of the bullets were in his chest. There was little I could do for him, and he died at dusk. Weesculatat was the first warrior of the non-treaty bands to be killed in these battles with the army and civilians. The chiefs wish to give him a Ni-mi-pu funeral at dawn.

Journal of Cortez Modrables

July 4, 1877

We buried Weesculatat with some of his prized belongings. He was a highly regarded warrior. His grave was covered and hidden so that the enemy scouts couldn’t find it.

Today is Independence Day for America, but there is no celebrating among the non-treaty bands.

We are traveling toward the Clearwater Valley. The army is still trying to follow, but it’s stuck on the other side of the Salmon River.

The chiefs had been very clever at avoiding the army, but Cortez was worried that they might become complacent and underestimate the resolve of General Howard to catch the bands.

About a hundred warriors rode up to Kamiah for a Dreamer religious meeting with some Reservation Ni-mi-pu who had just come back from hunting buffalo in Montana Territory. Some of the Reservation warriors returned with the non-treaty men. Cortez didn’t go, even though he considered himself a Dreamer. He didn’t think that it was a good time to show hostility when the chiefs wanted peace.

The bands had made their camp on the west bank of the South Fork of the Clearwater River, just south of the mouth of Cottonwood Creek. It was a narrow campsite but easy to defend against attack from the west. They were well within the reservation boundary now. Hopefully General Howard would see that all the non-treaty Nez Perces were near the lands that the agency designated for each band and therefore would not order the army to attack the camp as if there were war.

Journal of Cortez Modrables

July 5, 1877

We were surprised late this afternoon when Chief Looking Glass and his Alpowai band rejoined us. They are very angry and dismayed. Three days ago, a troop of soldiers attacked their peaceful village on their tract of reservation land. The soldiers accused Looking Glass of supplying the non-treaty bands with warriors and demanded that Looking Glass and the other warriors surrender and go to Cottonwood, where they would be held as prisoners. The Alpowai people were frightened and fled from the village to escape capture. The soldiers and civilian guides burned the village and destroyed or confiscated whatever was left—trampled the gardens and confiscated much of the horse herd.

Looking Glass and his people are now with the non-treaty bands and vow to fight the army if attacked again. I looked for Rachel’s family among the band and found them. John Sam told me that Rachel was still in Lapwai, but that she had planned to spend the summer in the village. She might have heard of the army attack and would be worried about her parents.

Cortez didn’t sleep last night. He was worried about Rachel and was upset and angry about the army’s attack on the Alpowai village. Looking Glass had no part in the battle in Lahmotta Canyon. His band with all its warriors had gone home at the first word of trouble with the ranchers. The village was inside the reservation boundary, and the people were growing crops and livestock. If good Ni-mi-pu like the Alpowai could be attacked and have their village destroyed by the army, then what would happen to White Bird, Joseph, and Toohoolhoolzote and their bands? Is it even possible that the chiefs could surrender without being hanged? Cortez knew that the chiefs and the warriors didn’t fear death in battle, but death by hanging would separate their spirits forever from the ancestor spirits.

These troublesome thoughts caused Cortez to consider riding to Lapwai to find Rachel and tell her about her parents and their village. Face to face, Rachel and Cortez might be able to talk about a future together.

Before the summer sun crested the mountain to the east, Cortez told White Bird and Looking Glass of his intentions to go to Lapwai. Both chiefs questioned him, “Do you, Simahichen Tim, plan to stay in Lapwai and join the soyapos?”

Cortez was surprised to hear this question and stammered as he tried honestly to assure them that he only wanted to speak with Rachel and tell her about her parents and her people. He finished by stating, “Should I not return, it will be because I’ve been captured as a spy and put in the jail.”

With the chiefs’ approval, Cortez caught his best two ponies and told Welweyas to pack only a few blankets and a little food. He then dressed like a Reservation Nez Perce and took no weapons. Knowing that Samuel would insist on going to protect him, Cortez avoided his brother’s lodge. The trail along the west bank of the Clearwater River was wide enough for wagons so there was no reason that he couldn’t ride the distance to Lapwai in a day.

The lingering summer daylight guided Cortez through the willow thickets along Lapwai Creek to the Indian Agency. He didn’t see anyone who might recognize him and be suspicious of his actions. Having no intention of trying to find Rachel this night, he made a cold camp from which he could see the schoolhouse. There was nothing more he could do but write a quick note in his journal before darkness obscured the page.

To help him contact Rachel, Cortez staked Silu Silu where she would easily see him in front of the school. He felt quite sure that she would recognize his pony and come looking for him at their favorite meeting place.

The plan worked, and Rachel knew just where to look when she came out during the morning recess. She found Cortez at the large stone outcrop behind the school house.

Rachel’s eyes were wide as she approached. Cortez reached out with the expectation of a warm hug, but he got only a quick nervous smile. Rachel had obviously heard about the battle at Lahmotta Canyon. “I watched General Howard leading his troops out of Fort Lapwai and worried about you, Cortez.”

“I’ve been worried about you, too, Rachel. You may not know about the army’s attack on the Alpowai village and its destruction.” The surprised look in her dark eyes told him that he was right, so he went on, “Looking Glass escaped with all but one woman and her baby, who drowned trying the cross the river to escape the soldiers. Your mother and father are safe with the non-treaty bands where they are camped on the South Fork of the Clearwater.”

Rachel was visibly shocked by the news of her people. She had thought that they were safe in their reservation village, with Chief Looking Glass, their leader, determined to stay out of the trouble. With tears streaming down her cheeks, Rachel blurted out, “How did it happen, Cortez? How did all these terrible things happen?”

Cortez moved toward the girl that he loved so much—wanting to hold and comfort her, but she backed away. He reached his arms out, but Rachel only stared at him with terrible hurt in her eyes. This was the hurt of an injured child. He knew then that he must give his beloved Rachel a truthful account of the tragic events, so that she would understand. She needed to know where the wrong lay. Without understanding, Rachel would never be in his arms again.

“Rachel, the non-treaty chiefs were leading their bands onto the reservation with the full intention of settling down on the tracts designated for them. We were at the Tepahlewam campground, near Mt. Idaho, waiting for Joseph and Ollokot and the Wallowa Wallamwatkin band to join us so we could all enter Lapwai together. Looking Glass had brought some of the Alpowai band out to meet us, planning to lead all the non-treaty bands onto the reservation together. The other chiefs decided to let the young warriors have a parade, so they could have one last chance to dress up and wear their warrior paint. They were all very excited. Some of them became too excited, getting their blood up. Two young warriors, Shore Crossing and Red Moccasin Tops, chose to defy White Bird’s order to take no warlike actions. Shore Crossing had long wanted to revenge the murder of his father by a soyapo farmer named Larry Ott. He persuaded Red Moccasin Tops to leave Tepahlewam with him and go back to the Salmon River Canyon. Shore Crossing also talked his young nephew into joining them, just to hold their horses. When they couldn’t find Larry Ott, they looked for some other settlers who had wronged the Lamtama. The warriors killed them and stole horses and other property. When they returned to Tepahlewam the next morning and boldly announced what they had done, some other young hotheads joined them, and they went back to raid other settlers who had never harmed the Ni-mi-pu.” Cortez watched Rachel’s face for expressions of understanding. He saw only hurt and fear.

“Rachel, I must emphasize this to you. There was no plan for war! The terrible things that the young warriors did were their own acts. White Bird and Joseph are still hoping to make peace. When Looking Glass learned of the attack made by the young hotheads, he immediately brought the Alpowai back to their village on the reservation. For protection only, White Bird, Joseph, and Toohoolhoolzote led their bands back to Lahmotta. When our scouts saw the army arriving, intending to attack the camp at dawn, the chiefs sent out a peace party, carrying a white truce flag, to meet them. A civilian guide with the army fired on the white flag. The attack by the army on the camp was a clear act of war.

“The warriors won that battle, trying to protect the women, children, and old people. Since then, the chiefs have been trying to hide the non-treaty bands from the army.” He let this picture form in Rachel’s mind, and then, with great emotion in his voice, Cortez exclaimed, “It is General Howard and the army who want war, not the chiefs!”

Cortez could see Rachel’s expression changing. “Cortez, what are you going to do?” He saw the concern in her eyes changing to warmth. “Cortez, you can stay here and be with me. This isn’t your problem.”

Cortez had to answer that logic. “It is my problem! General Howard would probably have me arrested for being White Bird’s adviser, even though my only advice has been to seek peace. And I promised White Bird and Looking Glass that I would return.” He watched both worry and anger glowing in Rachel’s eyes, so he asked her, “What about you, Rachel? Do you want to go to your people who are innocent of any wrong-doing and are suffering? Your people, your parents, were chased from their homes by the very army that was supposed to protect them.” These challenges caused Cortez to feel a wall growing out of the rock where the lovers had so often sat. Their future together seemed to be dissolving.

“I was born with white skin, and you, Rachel, with brown, but we seem to have switched races. I feel more loyalty to White Bird’s Lamtamas and your Alpowai people than to the Reservation Ni-mi-pu. And I find that I feel very little loyalty to the white race.” The woman that the young shaman loved so intensely gazed at her feet in thought. Cortez continued. “Rachel, you had planned to spend the summer with your people at Alpowai. You can’t do that now. There is no village and your parents are with Looking Glass and the non-treaty bands.” He paused to let her consider this statement, and then went on in a softer tone of voice, “I’ve brought a horse for you, Rachel. If you want to join your people, I’ll take you back with me.”

Rachel kicked some stones with her high-top shoes as she retorted with an anger that Cortez had never seen before, “I’m a Christian, Cortez, not a Dreamer. I’ve been raised in mission schools. I’m a teacher of things in the white man’s world. I’ve had more education than you. I can’t go with you to live in the wild, always running from the army—being your ‘squaw’!” With that, Rachel turned from their rock and stomped back toward the schoolhouse.

His stomach felt heavy as lead. The beautiful, intelligent girl that Cortez had grown to love, and wanted to marry, had just crossed to the other side of a chasm, where he knew he couldn’t go.

Cortez walked slowly back to where he had left Silu Silu and passed the school house. He glanced in the window and saw Rachel at her desk. She appeared to be crying. He yearned to take her in his arms, but didn’t know what he could say that would change anything.

Cortez collected his other horse and camp gear, then walked back toward the road. He stopped again in front of the school house, still unwilling to leave, when Indian Agent Monteith walked up. Of course, he recognized Cortez and knew that he was with White Bird’s band.

“Cortez, what are you doing here?” Monteith demanded angrily. Have you been talking with Rachel?”

“Yes. I came to tell Rachel that her village was attacked by the army, her people driven off, and her home and village destroyed. She has no place to go for the summer.” Now, Cortez was the one to feel anger. “You, Mister Monteith, you must know of the attack. It was on the reservation, which is your responsibility to protect.”

The Indian Agent seemed to be taken back by the forceful statements. Then he responded, “General Howard knows what he’s doing. If he ordered the attack on the Alpowai village, it was to capture Looking Glass before he could join your outlaw, raiding, non-treaty bands.”

Cortez’s blood was still up. “Looking Glass and all his people left the celebration on Camas Prairie as soon as they heard of the trouble on the Salmon River. They wanted no part in any battles. None of his warriors were at the Lahmotta battle or any fights since then. The Alpowai have now rejoined the non-treaty bands only because they have no other place to go, after the army attacked and destroyed Alpowai village. All the bands are now camped within the reservation boundaries. The non-treaty bands have been running from the army. The chiefs don’t want war. It is the army that seems to want war. Many white people have been killed and wounded for no reason. More will be killed if General Howard doesn’t quit attacking the Ni-mi-pu as if war had been declared by them. The chiefs wish for a truce, but they fear that they will be hanged, and the innocent people will be sent to Indian Territory.”

“Do you speak for the chiefs, Cortez?” Monteith asked.

“I’m a shaman with White Bird’s band. I am often at their councils, and I try to tell the chiefs what is good and what is bad, so, in many ways, I know their minds.”

“But you are a white man. How can you know the Indian mind?” Monteith asked with sarcasm in his voice.

Cortez saw that Rachel had come out of the school house and was about to join them, so Cortez tried to restrain his anger. “Yes, I’m white, but I’ve lived as a Nez Perce since I was orphaned at thirteen. I was taught to be a healer by my father and by a very wise shaman named Culculshensah. I was also taught in Hebrew schools in Spain and by my grandfather. I’m not a fool, Mister Monteith.”

Now Rachel had joined them and seemed surprised at the way Cortez was talking with Monteith. Cortez paused to let his anger subside before going on. “I know that the chiefs and the wise warriors want peace, but as long as the army wants war, there can be no peace. Mister Monteith, General Howard and his army are at Cottonwood, if you were to hurry there and tell Howard what I’ve told you, he might avoid another battle. I beg you to do that.”

Monteith turned to Rachel and suggested that she go back in the schoolhouse. She didn’t need to hear their conversation.

Rachel was about to respond, but Cortez answered for her. “Rachel should hear the truths that I tell you. Rachel and I wish to marry. It’s her people who were unjustly driven from their homes.”

Cortez could see that Monteith didn’t like to be challenged. “I will decide whether I should go find General Howard. And if I should go, I will decide what I do and do not tell him. General Howard is a very proud man. His army has been humiliated. He has brought in soldiers from all over his command, Cortez. You can tell the chiefs that the non-treaty bands must be made to pay for the atrocities that they have committed.”

His blood still up, Cortez looked at Rachel and saw pleading in her eyes that he not lose his temper. The shaman made his mind be quiet before saying, “Mister Monteith, I tell you this a third time: the non-treaty bands want peace. General Howard should not attack the non-treaty villages again. As you should know, when a Nez Perce says something three times, the third time has to be the truth.”

“What is your Nez Perce name again?” Monteith asked. He seemed to be considering his actions.

Rachel grabbed Cortez’s arm and motioned that there were two soldiers walking toward the three. “You had better leave, Cortez.” Rachel nudged him toward his horse.

He turned back for one last word to Monteith: “My name is Simahichen Tim. If you don’t understand Sahaptin, that means Grizzly Bear Talking. I have a powerful wyakin and I am a Dreamer!”

Cortez left the pony that he had brought for Rachel and trotted Silu Silu out of the schoolyard past the two soldiers. Should Monteith tell them to arrest him, he could easily get away. In the mood that Cortez was in, a race or fight might feel good. He turned his pony around to look at Rachel one more time, and again felt the pain of the chasm created by this morning’s words. Cortez waved and got only a slight movement of her hand in return. Looking toward Monteith, he decided that the government Indian Agent lacked both the will and the courage to ride out, find General Howard, and deliver his words.

Silu Silu chose his own pace going up the trail along the Clearwater, as he and Cortez headed toward the non-treaty camp. They had ridden hard the day before, trying to reach Lapwai to see Rachel. But today, Cortez was in no hurry to ride away.

Along the road, Cortez saw many Reservation Ni-mi-pu heading toward the agency. When he asked where they were going, their answers surprised him. They were fearful of Joseph, White Bird, Toohoolhoolzote, and their warriors. The Reservation Ni-mi-pu were afraid that the non-treaty bands might overpower the army and attack the reservation villages. The Christian Reservation Ni-mi-pu no longer had among them warriors who could fight the non-treaty bands that they considered to be outlaws.

Cortez arrived at the village of Kamiah near sunset and stopped to visit and spend the night with the Cowleys. These white friends took him in, but seemed uneasy about doing so. They had heard of the battles with the army and knew that Cortez was with White Bird at Lahmotta. So, Cortez asked them if they knew about the army’s attack on Alpowai. They told him that they had seen Looking Glass’s village afterward and were afraid that the same thing would happen to Kamiah if the village people did anything to help the non-treaty bands. They also told him that the Dreamer meeting held two days earlier, across the river from Kamiah, had worried the Kamiah people. Cortez told his friends that Looking Glass and his entire band had joined the non-treaty bands only because they had no other place to go. He also told them that the non-treaty chiefs were trying to avoid war and were camped on the reservation near the places where they had agreed to go at the May council.

Cortez left his friends at Kamiah early in the morning in order not to cause them any more concern than he already had. The visit with them had increased his feelings of separation. This loneliness, coupled with the turmoil of those last moments with Rachel, caused him to slip into a deep mood of melancholy.

He rode hard to reach the non-treaty camp. As he neared the camp, he spotted scouts watching the trail. They recognized Cortez and let him pass with a wave.

The chiefs were in council when he arrived, and Cortez joined them immediately. He was anxious to tell them what he had learned and what he had told Agent Monteith. Toohoolhoolzote muttered something about the reservation Ni-mi-pu being cowards and selling lands that weren’t theirs to sell. No one else commented on this, but they told Cortez that the scouts had been out watching the roads and trails. They had reported that General Howard was leading a large army toward the Clearwater River Valley.

On an impulse, Cortez volunteered to ride out with a white flag and try to talk with General Howard, to tell him again that the chiefs did not want war.

Toohoolhoolzote responded with anger, saying that General Howard had been the one to show the rifle. “It is he who must show the white flag now, and it is he who must try to talk of peace.” White Bird and Joseph both nodded their heads in agreement. White Bird then spoke directly to Cortez. “Simahichen Tim, we know that you do not want to fight men of your own race. If you wish to talk with General Howard, you are free to go, but you may not say that you speak for me or the other chiefs.”

Toohoolhoolzote added in his raspy voice, “If the soyapo army comes to do battle, our warriors will kill ten soldiers for every warrior that the army kills. We saw what bad shots and what cowards the soldiers are. As for those soldiers who die, their spirits will go to the place Christians call Hell. The spirits of the warriors who are killed will go with honor to be with our ancestors on the other side.” Toohoolhoolzote then paused for effect before stating, with his usual certainty, “The warriors from the other side will join us to drive all the white enemies from our lands, and then there will be peace. You, Simahichen Tim, you know the ways of the Dreamers, but your skin is white, and your eyes are like the sky. If you are killed in a battle, where will your spirit go?”

Ignoring Toohoolhoolzote, Joseph voiced his own challenge. “Simahichen Tim, you must choose. We know that you are not a coward and that you will not betray your people, the Ni-mi-pu. Reservation scouts wear the blue shirts of the army, so we know that the color of a man’s skin and the color of his eyes don’t show where his heart is. It is the color of his chosen shirt that tells where he will point his rifle. Only you can choose what people are truly yours.”

Cortez nodded his appreciation to the chiefs for their understanding. They are right. I’m in a difficult situation—even more difficult than they know, for the girl that I love and wish to marry wishes me to leave the non-treaty Ni-mi-pu and become a white doctor on the reservation. Cortez felt torn and lonely--much like he had felt as an orphaned immigrant boy in the Missouri River Breaks. He felt the need for his wyakin’s help, but these were not simple decisions to ask El Oso to make. How can the spirit of an ancient grizzly help me sort out these choices? My great wyakin will always protect me, but what of the others? What about Rachel? Does my wyakin know what is best for a Ni-mi-pu Christian who denies that wyakins exist? Or, for that matter, does El Oso know what is best for the non-treaty bands?” Cortez left the council lodge with these questions pulsing in his brain. He decided that unless the chiefs asked him to carry a white flag, he shouldn’t try to talk with General Howard. Only a warrior should carry a flag of peace, and only a chief should talk with a chief.

Cortez went to his lodge and changed from soyapo clothes to buckskins. Welweyas had food for him, and he saw in those sad eyes that the woman/man knew the shaman’s troubled spirit. “The food is good, and the river is near,” Welweyas said to him. “Eat well for your body and bathe in the cold water of the river for your spirit.”

The summer sun was below the benchlands west of the valley, and the people had gone to their lodges. Only the Clearwater River and Cortez owned the night. The troubled young shaman waded out beyond the quiet eddy where most of the people had been bathing. He wanted to know the cold tastes and smells of the water as it had left the springs and snowfields high in the Bitterroot Mountains. Finding a large rounded boulder, Cortez lowered his pale body into the steam pocket just below it and let the surge of cold water gush over his shoulders—then his head—cleansing his spirit.

“Does the river have a spirit?” Cortez asked aloud—tasting the healing water rush into his mouth. “I’m a shaman now and don’t have an answer. I ask you, Culculshensah, ‘Does the river have a spirit?’” He shouted this question out, nearly choking on a mouthful of water. He then posed the question in his mind. Tiwet, does the river have a spirit?

The answer came into Cortez’s mind without hesitation. Simahichen Tim, you know the answer. As I taught you, all things that can do good and all things that can do bad have spirits. What must be remembered is that the good things that the river does should never be used to do harm to a person or to another thing that has a spirit.

It was pleasant for Cortez to philosophize about the river, but the question of whether he should leave the non-treaty bands and live in the world of the reservation, with its lack of freedoms, still weighed heavily on his spirit. If I had been with Rachel, could I have asked Culculshensah’s spirit about the spirit world, as I just did? Would she have understood questions about the spirit world, which are not answered in her Bible?

“Rachel,” he said aloud. “You shouldn’t ask me to change my spirit. It isn’t right that you should ask that.” Cortez rose out of the water as he voiced these statements, but then returned to his thoughts. I’m a Dreamer and I let my mind find these questions to ask myself and to ask my tiwet in the spirit world. Now my thinking is angry with Rachel, and this is not right.

The young shaman stood and left the river with insights, but no answers.

His bed in the lodge was warm, but so lonely. Cortez tried to guide his thoughts and fantasies to bring Rachel to that bed and to his arms, but his arms remained empty, and Rachel eluded his visions.

It was morning and Cortez’s spirit was still troubled. Yearning for activity, he joined some other young men racing horses along the river bank. His Silu Silu won several races, even though he had ridden the stallion hard during the past two days. A shaman shouldn’t compete with the braves, but Cortez enjoyed the feel of the great stallion beneath his legs as he raced with the free will of the wind—no need for a whip. Racing was good for the ponies and their spirits, as well as for their riders’ spirits, even when there were no buffalo to chase.

It was about mid-morning and those racing by the river saw soldiers moving along the hills north and east of the valley. Then they heard the loud boom of a cannon. Its shot missed as it exploded near the river bank. The young men quit the fun and rushed back to the camp to report that the army was attacking the camp.

A scout rode fast from the east bank, waving a blanket over his head signaling war. Cortez felt fear grip his gut. This was the first time that he had been so close to an attack—so near people trying to kill people.

The chiefs divided the warriors into three companies to protect the camp. Toohoolhoolzote organized one of the companies with good rifles. They planned to return the attack and rode off with the tough old warrior in the lead. Another company would guard the river trail, while the third would be positioned to guard the lodges (where the women, children, and old people were) and the horse herd. Cortez ran to his lodge to prepare for wounded warriors.

The warriors led by Toohoolhoolzote climbed up through the gullies to the benchlands where the army was positioned. They fired from behind rocks and simple barricades, holding the soldiers back. Warriors are very good shots, and these were close enough to kill soldiers at will. The army’s cannon and two other big guns had been shooting at the village, but they couldn’t be pointed down at the camp. When the little cannon was pointed upward to lob an exploding canon ball into the camp, the ball exploded in the air and did no harm but to frighten people and horses. The soldiers shot their rifles at rocks and tree stumps and didn’t seem able to hit Toohoolhoolzote’s warriors.

The chiefs again held council and chose not to attack the army. Should the warriors only defend the village, they reasoned, the army might see this and consider a truce.

The sun was down and some of the warriors were coming into camp for the night. That left only a small number on the mountain to keep the army from attacking during the night. Only one warrior had been wounded, but he didn’t come to Cortez. A scout rode in to tell the chiefs that a different group of warriors had attacked General Howard’s supply train and damaged a cannon and its gun powder.

By early dawn of the next day, the warriors were already in position, understanding the army’s preference to attack sleeping villages. The fighting started on the benchland, with an attack by foot soldiers. They were held back by the well-positioned warriors on the rugged hillside.

The chiefs ordered the people to get ready to move farther down the Clearwater Valley. Cortez saw this as wise. If General Howard should order a full attack, with all his troops, some soldiers could overrun the camp and kill or capture many people. On the other hand, if Ni-mi-pu warriors should attack the army, many soldiers would be killed, but General Howard would again be humiliated. A Ni-mi-pu victory would only make it harder to gain peace. The non-treaty bands could move much faster than the army, so moving was the chiefs’ best strategy.

The way of the warriors is just to leave a battle when they are tired of it. This is what seemed to be happening, as warriors straggled in. There were some complaints about lack of leadership and a plan to defeat the army. Cortez believed the chiefs hoped that General Howard and the soldiers would tire of the chase without a victory and go home. He had doubts about that possibility.

Yellow Wolf and Wooten were the last to leave the battle. They and other warriors had held back the soldiers while the camp packed up, but with so many warriors leaving the battle, the people became frightened and the move became chaotic. Possessions were left scattered about. Livestock and food caches weren’t gathered. Lodge poles were left that should have been made into travois. When the two warriors rode through the empty camp, they heard a woman’s cries and found Toma Alwawinmi, Joseph’s wife, crying for help. She was on a horse that was hard to handle with the excitement of cannon blasts. Her new baby was in a cradle board just out of her reach as she sat on the bucking horse. Yellow Wolf got off his pony and handed her the baby. She then galloped off to catch up to the band. Evidently, Joseph, in his haste to get the rest of the camp moving, had neglected to help his own wife and baby.

Before reaching Kamiah, the chiefs decided that the bands should camp on the west side of the main Clearwater River, north of where the Middle Fork runs into it. Then they would all cross in the morning to the east side and move on to the campsite near the “Heart of the Monster” at Kamiah.

Bull boats were made the following morning to cross the full Clearwater River. The old people and children rode on the baggage. The horses swam with warriors and many of the women without small children.

This place, in the main Clearwater River Valley, was near one of the northbound Nez Perce trails to the Montana buffalo country. The trail’s Sahaptin name was Khulusahnah Ishkit. The stories the old people tell say that this was the way the American explorers named Lewis and Clark came down from the Bitterroot Mountains. They were starving, and the Nez Perce helped them survive and go on to the Pacific Ocean. It is also called the Lolo Trail because it crosses over Lolo Pass, named for an old mixed-blood trapper who lived on the east side.

The camping place was near Alpowai, the village of Looking Glass and Cortez’s beloved Rachel that had been destroyed by the soldiers. Welweyas was setting up the lodge, so Cortez, with no healing duties that day, decided to ride up the Middle Fork of the Clearwater River to see for himself the destroyed village.

He rode along the bluff above the Middle Fork where he could see across the narrow valley to Alpowai. He wanted to see any soldiers before they saw him ride into the ruined village. He could see no one as he gazed over the area. Then Silu Silu neighed, and a horse answered with its own neigh from across the river. A surprised Cortez studied the brush along the river bank and finally spotted the answering horse in the shadows. He was even more surprised to recognize the horse as one of his own. It was tied at the edge of the village clearing. As if to confirm what his eyes saw, the two horses exchanged greetings again. But Cortez couldn’t imagine how it got to the village? He had left that horse with Rachel in Lapwai.

Cortez carefully started Silu Silu down off the bluff and across the Middle Fork. On the south side of the river, he dismounted and led his pony quietly through the brush. Silu Silu neighed again and the other horse answered immediately. A head of black hair popped up to see why the horse was neighing. The head turned toward the sound, and a face appeared, utterly amazed—it was Rachel! Cortez saw his intended wife standing near a ruined house. His eyes grew as wide as hers.

Rachel had braided her hair Nez Perce style and was wearing a buckskin dress in place of her normal gray soyapo clothes. Cortez hopped off Silu Silu and ran toward Rachel, his arms opened wide to hug her. She responded and held Cortez so close that he could feel her tears wetting his cheek.

“I’m so glad to find you, Cortez. I was afraid! I came here to see my village and see if there were any of my people still here. I have found nothing and no one. I have no place to go!” Rachel was sobbing as she blurted out, “After you left Lapwai the other day, Agent Monteith told me that I shouldn’t marry you, because you are a Dreamer and a Jew, and I’m a Christian. He said that if I marry you, I can’t teach school! His words made me so angry that the only thing I wanted was to find you!”

Cortez continued to hold his beloved Rachel close—not wanting her to ever be out of his arms again. He felt Rachel’s body tremble and then felt its warmth under her buckskin. He had never felt Rachel’s warmth in their embraces when she wore white women’s clothing. He wanted Rachel more than ever.

“A wonderful thing has happened today,” Cortez whispered to Rachel. “Somehow the spirits have made this happen. Finding each other at this place could not have happened by chance.”

Rachel stepped away and gives Cortez an indulgent smile. “You and your Dreamer ideas, Cortez. But, what is that awful smell?”

“That, my darling, is the odor of wet grizzly bear.” Cortez laughed with delight.

Rachel and Cortez strolled about the abandoned Alpowai—hand in hand. The dismal ruin didn’t darken Cortez’s mood. He asked Rachel, “Have you found anything you want in the village?”

“I found only a few things scattered about—nothing that belonged to my family. The entire village has been destroyed. I don’t know how the army could have done such a horrible thing!” With that realization, Rachel’s tears flowed again, as she cried with the trilling wails that only Indian women seemed to know. Cortez held her close until Rachel pulled herself away to arm’s length and looked into his face through the tears. “Cortez, I found what I really want here at Alpowai, and that is you. Please take me with you and forgive me for the mean things I said to you at Lapwai.”

“Rachel, I prayed that somehow we could be together. I want to be with you always.” The two kissed with a fullness of giving and receiving that they had never experienced before. Cortez felt an urgent desire to make love right then and there, as many young Indians would have done. But the sun was dipping below the plateau to the west. Reluctantly, he pulled away, even though he could still feel the blood racing through both their young bodies. “I love you with all my heart,” Cortez told Rachel. “Tonight, I shall take you to your family. Then we shall find a way to marry.”

Rachel nodded yes, and Cortez could see in her jet-black eyes that she shared his desire.

Campfires were lighting the dusk as Rachel and Cortez rode into the new campsite. They searched for the lodge of Rachel’s parents. When they found it, Cortez called out in Sahaptin, “Come out, John Sam and Ruth. I have brought Rachel to you.”

Both parents and some other family members popped out of the teepee opening with delighted grins on their faces. Rachel hopped down from the pony to greet them, with much hugging and tears.

Cortez led both horses to his lodge and then turned them loose in the pasture area. Welweyas had his food ready.

The young shaman/healer went to sleep feeling happier than he had since boyhood. Rachel would soon be with him in his lodge—under their blankets and robes.