Chapter 24

Chapter 24

I know Peirpont and the trappers are already a day’s travel ahead. I have to ride all night and try to ride most of the next day in order to catch them. I switch ponies in order to keep them from exhaustion. I remember hearing Reynard tell stories of the fort, and I know they will be heading northwest. I follow the old hunting path, and Nagi flies ahead, scouting for me. He returns cawing after circling the area down below me. I know that it will be prey or the trappers. It’s night once again and if they weren’t in a hurry, I might have caught up. I take a moment to say my prayers to the Great Spirit and paint myself black with the red symbol on my chest. I put Nagi’s black feathers in my hair and tie a string around his foot and then to a branch. When I walk away, he flaps furiously to get loose to no avail. I can’t risk him getting hurt, and his eyes are not made for the dark. Smoke billows up from where Nagi has circled, and I whisper back, “Good Nagi,” causing him to flap even harder.

I carry my two loaded guns with my arrows and bow on my back and a belt heavy with weapons. I make no sound as I step carefully down to them, and I stand like a tree in the shadows of the fire. I count seven trappers; Peirpont and Chase are among them. I don’t like the idea of shooting Chase, but I must. I see their horses tied up behind them in the brush and note their guns lying by their sides as they smoke their pipes and belch after eating. As I’m about to pounce, a familiar cawing shrieks nearer. The trappers jump to their feet, but the fire blinds them from seeing into the darkness. Nagi swoops down to stand on my shoulder and croaks happily to be back with me. The string had been untied and still dangles from his foot.

Chase puts his hands out to the men and speaks in Lakota. “It’s only a disturbed raven. Nothing to worry about.” But when he sits down he’s the only one to keep his hand on his gun.

Why would he speak in Lakota?

The other men laugh at the scare, and Peirpont hobbles around the fire, flapping his arms feebly, screaming, “Caw! Caw!”

I lift my musket and shoot him in the shoulder.

He goes flying to the ground upon impact. Chase is on his feet with his gun, but he turns the gun on another trapper reaching for his weapon, shooting him in the chest. I throw down the spent gun, pick up the other one at my side, and shoot another trapper running for the horses. Chase turns and shoots the man nearest to him in the head as I pull my bow over my head and reach for an arrow. One man darts for his horse, as another brings up his gun and keeps turning left and right trying to protect himself from our assault. I let three arrows loose in attempt to hit the man untying his horse, but they all miss. The man with the gun turns on me, and Chase shoots him in the back. I search for Peirpont and see him crawling toward his gun. I kick the gun away and stand on his back with my arrow pointed at his yellow head.

“Turn over slowly, squaw-killer.” Chase translates.

He turns around with one arm up, the other bleeding profusely. I spit at his ugly trout face, and it hits him in the corner of his eye.

“Get up and move to that tree.” I release the arrow and hit the center of the trunk. In seconds, I have another one in my bow.

Peirpont gets up slowly; his right arm hangs limp. He strains to wipe away the spit with his left hand, but I demand, “No, leave it there.”

I take out my rope and quickly wrap him to the tree. Peirpont says something to Chase in their language, and it only makes Chase smile and shrug.

I turn to Chase. “He killed Wakinyan.”

“He was just bragging about that at the fire. I was about to shoot him myself.” Chase sits back on the ground and takes up his pipe again. “I’m going to enjoy this show. Only thing that would make this better is if Hanska was here.”

I take out the large metal spoon he beat Wakinyan with and hold it up to his face. “Remember this?”

He looks at it and sneers. I crack him in the head with it. He screams as I hit him again in the injured arm, and he screams even louder as I push the ladle into his wound. I let the pain sink in as I walk over to the fire and stick the iron ladle in the embers, turning it from black to red. Peirpont pleads in his language, and I yell, “Chase don’t translate for him. Only for me.”

He thrashes at his roping as he watches me come over with the glowing spoon, and I pull up his shirt and thrust the spoon hard into his most sensitive skin. Peirpont howls in agony. When I pull the spoon away, skin sticks to it. I yank the crisp skin off with a look of disgust and let it flutter to the ground. Peirpont is now in tears. He cries, “Wakinyan! Wakinyan!”

“Do not say her name!” I grab my knife and pull his head violently to the side, and in one fast motion, tear his scalp off. He screams like a coward, and he makes me sick at the sight of him. I want him gone. I pick up his gun and point it at his head, and he nods happily that I won’t continue the torture.

“All you had to do was give her back to me. That’s all you had to do.” I wait for Chase to translate.

The gunshot rings out across the empty woods.

Chase claps his hands. As I kneel down on the pine needles, I grasp the bloody straw-haired scalp in my hand. Happy now, that I’ve prevented him from interfering any longer with Wakinyan and I. His soul is now bound to walk this earth, this darkness, forever. Chase picks up the guns lying scattered around the ground and comes over to stand beside me. “You know that one that got away will get to the fort by morning.”

“I do not care about anything anymore.”

“Well, now that I’m a part of all this I’m going off to the east. There’s more Lakota out there, further on the prairie. Why don’t you come with me?”

I think about it. The thought of starting over. I hear Weayaya’s words.

“My ancestors are here. Wakinyan’s here. My mother is here. No, I will stay.”

He shakes his head. “Well, you’ll know where to find me when the Militia comes looking for the Lakota that did this.” He walks to the horses, unties three, and brings the other three to me. “It’s been an honor to have known you, Kohana. I hope we meet again.” He gets on his horse and rides southeast.

I call for Nagi and bring the horses home. I don’t speak to anyone and no one asks, seeing my war paint on, bringing French horses in tow. I go right to a sweat bath and stay until I’m completely cleansed. When I come out, most of the black and red paint has run off, leaving lines all over my body. I dive into the cold river water and immediately feel my sadness lift. I lay back and float in the sparkling, dancing water as I hear my people performing their morning chores.

As the sun sets, I go to Wakinyan’s tree, where the green streamers twirl and dance in the wind. Everyone has gone back to camp, and I have a moment alone with her. I take Peirpont’s scalp from my belt. “He has taken your life. Now I have taken his soul. All is balanced again.”

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

The next morning, I pay no attention to Nagi’s early wake up caw, until Mother screams. I jump up with my gun and prepare for the worst, but she stands there pointing to the top of our teepee. I turn around to see Nagi perched on one of the poles, cawing loudly.

I laugh. “It is only Nagi.”

“Get away from there!” she cries, trying to shoo him off the pole. Finally, he takes off in search of his breakfast.

By sundown that day, the sound that I’ve been waiting for, comes. White man’s horns blast, announcing the Militia. I come out of my teepee to see many men on horseback lined up across the prairie. Squaws run for their children and old men run for the chief. Reynard stands next to me suddenly, looking out at his people.

“In some sort of trouble?” he says to me with a one-eye-squinted, tight smile.

I nod. “I killed five white men.”

He whistles. “Yeah, that’s trouble.”

The horns blast again, and three important-looking men ride out in the center of the prairie. Reynard turns back, waves for Eyota and Otaktay, and says to me, “Stay here.”

They get on their horses and ride out to meet them. Reynard translates, and I watch the back and forth. Many times Otaktay and Eyota look at me. The French men get angry as Reynard tries to assuage the disagreement, but the Chief and Otaktay shake their heads.

Eyota and Otaktay finally turn their horses and walk away. The French men stay to speak to Reynard before he follows back to our camp. Otaktay rides past me and says, “We do not agree with what you did, but we will stand by you.”

They go to the center of the camp, and Otaktay cries, “Ayayayaayayayaya!” at the top of his voice, calling to the other tribes. They’re going to send out scouts to bring in all the warriors.

Reynard comes back to me. “Once the other warriors come in, you’ll outnumber them, and you’ll win this battle.”

“But then many more will come?”

He looks at me with great honesty and nods slowly.

I put down my gun, my knives, and my tomahawk. I turn to Reynard. “Will you please come translate?”

He nods and, without words, follows me. I put my arms above my head and start walking out into the field. The men ready their guns as their leader yells a command. Reynard also yells out something to them, and the French men on horses come back to meet us in the center.

Reynard speaks to them, gesturing toward me, while I turn to watch the prairie grasses wave. Reynard says, “They are going to tie you and bring you in to the fort for trial. I will go with you.”

I know I won’t be able to make him stay. “Are they going to punish any more Lakota for this?”

He translates. “No, they say they have a witness who saw you and Chase commit the murders.”

“Make them promise that they will not hold my people responsible for this. Tell them this was my war.”

Their French leader nods to me. He commands one of the men to dismount and comes toward me with rope just as the wind blows. I turn slightly and see a dark storm coming in.

Wakinyan’s storm.

I scream, “Wakinyan!” out to the clouds.

The guns move and click.

Glossy Nagi comes cawing from the prairie. Flying back to me, piercing the thick, charged air. I start to run, faster than I’ve ever run in my life. I hear the guns fire and watch Nagi’s shadow winding above me as I head toward Wakinyan’s tree.

The guns sound like her thunder. The sun still shines through the clear sky behind me. My short hair whips behind my ears as the warm storm wind blows against me, spattering me with the first thick raindrops.

I smile and scream, “In death I am born!”

I fling my arms out like wings as something hits my back with great force.