For some time it appeared that the young rebels had quieted and become cooperative. Badger and his friends were careful to ask the official ceremony of the medicine man before starting on a hunt. Apparently their medicine was good. They were successful at the hunting, and their lodges were well supplied.
The more moderate faction of the band began to relax somewhat. Even Heads Off hoped that these had been merely exuberant youths, who were now returning to the ways of their elders.
Coyote, however, still had a lingering, gnawing doubt. There were things which bothered him, and Coyote, above all, knew how to read people. Those of the People with little insight considered the little man an object of humor, a buffoon. The more perceptive of the tribe saw him for what he was. With his shrewd mind and wit, Coyote had always been respected by the chiefs in council. The disarming, chuckling little coyote-like laugh, which had earned him his name, could cover the most serious of manipulations in the politics of the tribe. As wise old White Buffalo had once remarked, Coyote was able to lead without appearing to do so.
Just now he was disturbed about the young rebels. True, they seemed to be conforming, but there were questionable factors. All their hunts were with their own group. Of course, a man traditionally hunted with his friends. No harm in that. But every time? Coyote had noticed that the members of Badger’s loosely organized
group repeatedly turned down invitations to hunt with other hunters of the band. In fact, as time went on, the young followers of Badger seemed to become even more cohesive. Secretive, almost, thought Coyote. Yet they had broken no rules of the council. The precise dictum of the law was being obeyed, and no enforcement by the Bowstring Society was necessary.
There were annoying and worrisome things afoot, however. The members of Badger’s group continued to blood themselves after every successful hunt. It became commonplace to see the young men returning from a buffalo hunt with faces smeared with crimson. Their songs of success were always loud and arrogant, full of boasting. Some people were referring to them as the “bloods” in a derogatory way.
Strangely, the group adopted this name for themselves. Just as their leader had taken for his own the disparaging term “badger,” now his group took with pride the name “Blood Society.”
Some of the elders of the band tried to convince themselves that here was a group of youths merely holding strongly to the proven ceremonial rituals of the ancestors. Coyote suspected more. He believed there was more ritual taking place, some of it in secret. The rebels had given up too easily. Their entire attitude was wrong. Instead of quiet obedience, there was this constant arrogance, a restless, ambitious self-esteem.
And then there were their dances. The Bloods celebrated after every hunt, even when there was little apparent cause. There were the songs and reenactment of the hunt, then dances recalling other hunts, and always the final act, the story of the controversial killing of the Head Splitters. The Bloods seemed to brandish this reenactment in the faces of the rest of the People. There was a certain defiance of authority in the reenactment of this event which had caused their censure.
Coyote must, he decided, talk to White Buffalo. Together, they could approach Heads Off if it appeared some action was necessary. It was unfortunate that the chief, with his upbringing far away, would not notice the subtleties of variant behavior such as this.
Coyote sauntered through the village toward the medicine man’s lodge. He glanced toward the river, to the meadow where the youngsters of the Rabbit Society were receiving instruction. The warriors demonstrating the lessons were Standing Bird and Coyote’s own son, Long Elk. He decided to watch for a while, turning aside from the path to walk to the meadow. Long Elk waved to him and came to meet him.
“No, no,” insisted Coyote. “Go on.”
Long Elk shook his head.
“We are nearly ready to stop,” he said. “Wait for me a little.”
The smaller children were practicing with throwing sticks or bow and arrow. Older youths on horseback were using the lance under Standing Bird’s instruction. Coyote watched a young man make a good run at a willow hoop target, threading the circle neatly with his lance. It seemed such a short while since Coyote had first seen a buffalo killed in this manner. Heads Off had been a stranger then, and his control over the elk-dog seemed little short of a miracle. Now every young man of the People received instruction in the elk-dog medicine. Aiee, in other ways it now seemed that this had always been the way of the People.
Long Elk now dismissed his young charges and returned to where his father sat.
“Does it go well, my son?”
The young warrior squatted and shrugged.
“Well enough,” he replied vaguely. Something was troubling him. Coyote remained silent.
“Father, did you know that some of the young men are taking instruction from Badger?”
This was no earthshaking news. The loosely organized educational system, the Rabbit Society, provided for instruction by almost any of the warriors who were so inclined. Most men spent some time with the children, where both boys and girls learned the use of weapons, and the athletic skills of running, jumping, and swimming.
Coyote waited, knowing he would hear more.
“Standing Bird and I believe Badger takes them on the hunt before they are ready.”
If that were the only problem, thought Coyote. The entire matter was taking on a more ominous tone. If the impression of these young warriors was correct, then Badger might be actively seeking recruits for the Blood Society. The rebel group might be much more organized than he had thought. He must talk with White Buffalo.
Coyote visited a short while with the young men, and casually resumed his walk to the medicine man’s lodge. He had not mentioned his suspicions.
White Buffalo was smoking in front of his lodge, and waved the invitation to sit. Coyote complied, and filled his own pipe. Crow Woman, the medicine man’s wife, brought a burning twig to ignite the leafy mixture, and the two men smoked in silence for a time. They were friends of long standing, despite a considerable difference in ages. At one time White Buffalo had hoped that young Coyote might become his apprentice. He and Crow Woman had been unable to have children, so there was no son to carry on the position of medicine man. This had become a matter of considerable worry to him in recent seasons. None of the young men seemed interested. And, now there was this other
matter, that of Badger. How could he voice his suspicions to Coyote?
In the end it was Coyote who broached the subject.
“Uncle,” he began, using the People’s term of respect for any adult male, “I would speak of the Bloods.”
Surprised, the medicine man answered, “Yes, I, too.”
They discussed their mutual fears and suspicions. There was really little to discuss, merely the uneasy feeling. For the medicine man, it was mostly a matter of reading attitude. Although the Bloods went through the ceremonial preparation for the hunt, their attitude was jocular and mocking. They were arrogant and insulting to the old medicine man, very demanding in their requests for the visions. So far he had been able to comply with their requests, but he wondered. What would happen on the day when he would have to advise against the hunt?
White Buffalo had also noticed another thing Coyote had overlooked. At the dances in celebration of the hunt, there were women participating.
Warrior sisters! This too implied a well-organized warrior society. The young women of the society would remain celibate as long as they held status as warrior sisters, but could resign to marry at any time. It was a position of honor, requiring knowledge of the society’s ceremonials and active participation in the rituals.
The alarming fact here was that if Badger’s Blood Society had now included warrior sisters, it must have immense influence with the young people. The vows of a warrior sister were not to be taken lightly.
This added evidence of the prestige of the illicit warrior society was sobering to the two men. Though nothing definite had happened yet, they must make Heads Off aware of their observations.
They rose and walked toward the lodge of the chief.