Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The next morning I wake up with the sun. I want to make as many arrows as I can in hopes that I can go with the war party. When I see Hanska march by, I run astride and ask, “Will you ask the Chief if I can go with you?”

Hanska looks down at me with a squint. “You think you are ready?”

“More than ready.”

He increases his pace. “I will go ask, but you better get your things ready. Weayaya saw the eagle soaring over camp. We must go at once.”

I stop as Hanska heads to Eyota’s tent. I jump in the air at the possibility of being included and run to fetch Father’s best war pony. Mother paints me in Father’s colors—black and red. There is much commotion throughout camp as the warriors prepare themselves and ride out. Hanska rides over at the last minute and yells, “Kohana, kiss your mother.”

Mother’s smile is tinged with worry, but she kisses my forehead, getting red paint on her lips. I vault onto the back of my pony and kick it to follow Hanska.

I come up beside him, and Hanska says, “Do not get too excited. The chief wants you to stay behind at a safe distance.”

I argue, “Why—”

“Until you have your own medicine, you cannot fight.”

Chase and Reynard speed by us to ride with Otaktay, in the lead. Hanska glares at Chase’s back. “You stay back and watch me. I am going to bring great honor. Otaktay will accept my offer by the end of today.”

We ride right by Paytah at the edge of camp, sitting on an old log. He doesn’t even glance up to see us pass. I tell myself that when I return, I will spend some time with him.

We ride all day and sleep under stick lean-tos, without fire, in the woods. We’re in enemy territory and have to surprise their camps in order to get a victory. Our three scouts are sent out to see what is ahead and two return, telling us horses and a small camp are up ahead by the river. Otaktay picks his best warriors to ride in front with him. Neither Hanska, Chayton, or Chase are chosen. A big-nosed man with a flat face and a long red-feathered headdress rides to his right.

“Who is that warrior?”

Hanska replies with a sideways smirk, “Your future father-in-law, Mato.”

My mouth drops open. The man turns, hearing Hanska’s light laughter at my expression, and I see Mato’s strange, steel eyes. His stare is like a biting winter wind. After he turns back to the path ahead, I whisper to Hanska, “Is he part-white like Wakinyan?”

“No, all Lakota.”

“Is Mato a skilled warrior?”

“Ruthless. He will kill the smallest child if it serves him.”

I pause for a moment. “But he must be a kind man if he took in Wakinyan and her mother after the trapper was through with her?”

Hanska grunts. “He took Zonta in only because of Wakinyan.”

I’m quiet for a long time, thinking about what he means by that. Otaktay lashes both arms out to his side, telling us all to still. He points to warriors on his right and signals, then does the same for a group on his left. They both split off from us slowly and silently. He then signals us to follow him in a straight attack when he gives his war cry. My heart pumps thick in my ears as both Hanska on my right and Chayton on my left take out their bows and buffalo-skin shields. I bring mine out too, and Hanska quickly shakes his head and jerks it behind.

“Wa-woo-woohoo, wa-woo woohoo!” Otaktay starts but soon it becomes this rolling, haunting, echo—each voice in its own time. The thin trees around us seem to rattle, and the pine needle-covered ground shakes. My eyes fill with tears as the sound stings deep in my stomach. Otaktay brings his arms down and they all take off, winding in and out of trees and into the clearing at the bottom of the hill. The thundering hooves of the ponies only amplify their yells as I stay as still as an ancient boulder in a madly rushing spring stream. I feel as proud as I feel useless, watching all my relatives risk their lives for glory. I see a cliff to my left and climb up to reach it. I get there just in time to see my tribe emerge from the tree line, and the Ojibwa assemble in defense. Women and children dash out of teepees and bound over the riverbank into the woods behind them.

Chase and Reynard veer out on the left with their muskets raised. Most of the Ojibwa warriors are still fetching their ponies as Otaktay comes into arrow range. Each Lakota fires arrow after arrow, causing many of the Ojibwas to slow their horses and hide under their shields. Most arrows bounce off the shields because of the great distance, so it’s the warriors with the strongest medicine who get close enough to shoot with enough power to kill.

Otaktay keeps riding forward as some of his other men slow behind him. He comes at the enemy yelping, with his bow and shield above his head. One of the Ojibwas shoots his gun, and Otaktay brings his shield down in time to deflect the bullet. Yet he keeps charging and releases an arrow with such force that it goes right into the warrior’s thigh and through to his horse, sending the animal reeling. Steel-eyed Mato is right behind him and grabs the wounded warrior off his horse and scalps him alive.

I search for Hanska and see him headed to the right of the camp. If I know him at all he is heading straight to the village for looting. I turn to the left and see Chase and Reynard in a volley with four warriors. One warrior falls under Chase’s shot as another grabs his arm and drops back. The remaining two charge the trappers as the white men laugh and hoot until they reload and fire back.

Chayton comes around the back of the war party, trying to cut across to the village when his horse gets hit with a stray arrow and rears. Chayton goes flying off backwards and lands on his shoulders and neck. He lies motionless on the ground. No one seems to notice. I wait a few moments to see if anyone goes to bring him from the field, but all are engaged. I know I have to go to bring him back before he can be scalped.

I kick my horse back down the hill and let it find its way safely through the maze of trees. Chayton is still alone when I reach the clearing, and his horse stands loyally by him with an arrow in its shoulder. I get up on my haunches to allow my pony to go top speed and then leap off. Chayton still breathes, and his horse isn’t badly wounded. I crouch down and lift his heavier weight over my back and, once he is on, I take a deep breath and groan to get his weight up. When I’m finally standing, I see a yellow-painted warrior speeding toward me. I’m defenseless with Chayton on my back and can only watch as he brings his musket up. I close my eyes but hear two shots ring out. Feeling no pain, I open them to see the yellow warrior slumped forward on his slowing horse and Chase and Reynard crisscrossing each other to go for two other warriors closing in.

I grunt again and, with my last strength, heave Chayton high enough to lie over his horse’s back. I can barely get back on my pony, but once I do, I ride back to my lookout with Chaton’s horse in tow. Chayton comes to shortly after and reaches immediately to check his scalp. Feeling it still intact, he breathes out and, seeing only me there, says, “Thank you.”

We seem to be winning at the start of the fight, but by midday more Ojibwa come to their aid and push us back out of their village. As soon as the sun begins to fall, Otaktay motions for his Lakota to retreat. Many warriors have one or two ponies in hand, and Hanska’s neck is wrapped in thick beaded necklaces, his chest is stacked with three quill breastplates, and two rifles hang from straps across his back. He comes strutting up the hill on his tired pony with his arms out in triumph, his smile wide and white, plling a pony with an older squaw on it. Otaktay gallops up beside her, and she cries in Lakota, “Five winters, and you never came!”

The ponies stop their procession as we realize Hanska has stolen back a squaw from our camp. Otaktay embraces her, and the two cry in each other’s arms. Hanska drops the rope, leaving them to their moment, and walks his pony by me. I kick to follow him out. Hanska turns to me and winks. “I told you. By the end of the day.”

I gasp. “Did you know his relative was in that village?”

He brings his medicine bag up to his lips, kisses it and bends his head back to the burning sky. “Of course not, but when I saw her she cried, ‘I am Lakota. Otaktay’s first wife!’ I couldn’t believe what the Great Spirit was giving me.”

I laugh and look back to see the rejoined couple but see Chase’s angry face instead. He too must realize what this means.

I turn back. “Well, then, you won’t be too mad now that I saved Chayton’s life.”

He scoffs and sees Chayton further up, still holding his head as he rides on. “Nothing could make me happier than to have Chayton and Chase alive to watch Otaktay hand me Mika.”