Hunting was good, with warm days and cool nights, and the People prepared much dried meat for the winter. Some was pounded fine, mixed with melted suet, nuts, and berries, and stored in lengths of buffalo intestine in sausage-like rolls.
Many robes were cured, and skins tanned for the making of garments. During the long warm days of the Moon of Falling Leaves the People prepared the lodges for winter. In the space behind the skin lining of each lodge, normally used for storage, armfuls of dry grass were stuffed as protection against the onslaught of Cold Maker.
It was a busy time. Even the troublemakers were occupied with hunting and storage of provisions, and the disquiet subsided somewhat. Thus there was a respite from stress within the band. It began to appear that the potential for trouble was lessening. Heads Off was afraid, however, that this was misleading. He knew, and Coyote verified, that the mild weather of the following spring would make the young men restless. Then would come the time of trouble, as they began to flex young muscles in the Moon of Greening Grass. The chief hoped that he would be able to create enough diversion to prevent any major incidents. Perhaps, even, to keep the band moving without permanent camp until after the Sun Dance in the Moon of Roses. That might be worth a try.
But for now, Sun Boy’s torch grew weaker, and his daily run across the sky grew shorter. Long lines of geese honked their way
across the sky, heading for southern waters. Heads Off stood and watched, longing to follow, yet remaining by choice. His longing for his warm lodge and loving wife was far greater. He placed an arm around her enlarging waist, and Tall One leaned her head on his shoulder. Since their marriage, now three seasons old, they had loved the sharing of sights and sounds. The honk of the geese in the fading evening sky, the scent of nature’s time of ripening, recalled for both the long sunny days of their first weeks together. That, too, had been in the Moon of Falling Leaves. This and the natural beauty of the season had made it his favorite of all moons of the year.
The spectacular gold and purple of the autumn flowers, the muted reds and yellows of the tall prairie grasses, faded before the arrival of Cold Maker. There were a few storms that howled and whistled around the warm lodges, but on the whole, it was a mild and open winter. At no time was there snow on the ground for more than a few days before Sun Boy again wrestled the Cold Maker back toward his northern domain. Coyote chuckled, pleased at the repeated victories of Sun Boy. Aiee, not always were the People so fortunate!
Heads Off, during long evenings of sharing a social smoke with his father-in-law, also shared his thoughts. Would it be possible to keep the band moving to provide a distraction for the Bloods?
Coyote puffed slowly, exhaled the pungent blue smoke, and watched it curl toward the smoke hole at the apex of the lodge. He nodded.
“This may be a good thing, Heads Off. It could do no harm. The moving would be much work, but might distract the young warriors.” He puffed again, and nodded to himself. “It might at least keep things quiet until we arrive at the Sun Dance. Then that will keep them busy for a while.”
“I had also wondered,” continued Heads Off, “if it might be well to lead a raid on the Head Splitters, to let the Bloods have their fill of fighting.”
“I think not, Heads Off.” Coyote shook his head thoughtfully. Until the arrival of the elk-dogs, the People had not been fighters. Their defense was that of run-and-hide. Ever since the success of the few contacts with the enemy in recent years, it was difficult to break out of the old pattern. Coyote still thought in terms of avoiding trouble wherever possible. “Why,” he continued, “should we look for danger when there is none?”
Heads Off was forced to agree. To lead a raid would only be to sanction the type of action they disapproved of by the Bloods. He nodded. “It was only a thought,” he said absently. Every possible answer to the problem in the band must be considered.
White Buffalo was taken into confidence and the plan was outlined. The old man nodded eagerly. He could be of great help. His was the decision when to fire the dry prairie in the spring, to hasten the greening and bring the buffalo back. He could appear to make an error, decide for the burn too early, and the greening would not come. Then it would be necessary to move again. The three plotters talked long, planning each step carefully.
Tall One and her mother, Big Footed Woman, interjected an idea into the conversation. A few carefully selected women could help. It would be a simple matter to complain about the campsite, the water, fuel supplies, even the quality of the available game. With enough complaints, the chief would have no alternative but to order another move.
The men were delighted.
“But, only a few women,” Coyote cautioned. “They should not even tell their husbands of the plan.”
It was agreed that even these women were to know as little as possible of the entire scheme. They would merely be encouraged
to talk discontent to their husbands and neighbors. This would provide yet another distraction from the potentially serious matter at hand.
Antelope Woman, wife of Standing Bird and best friend of Tall One, was the only woman taken into full confidence. These three women assured the chief that they could foment enough trouble when the time came.
White Buffalo ordered the firing of the grass so early in the Moon of Greening that the first blades of grass had not yet appeared. Some of the elders of the band shook their heads and clucked their tongues. The mistake was apparent to them. Aiee, White Buffalo must be too old for his position, they told each other.
The People waited, and there was no greening. The medicine man had chosen his time well. It became so depressing to look at the blackened prairie that the band began to grumble, and the chief ordered the move to a better area. At least, there would be dry grass for the horses. The band filed over the low range of hills, their innumerable dogs trotting alongside.
In the next area, the medicine man chose perfectly the time for burning, and the grass began to green in a few days. But, no buffalo came. There were an occasional animal or two, enough to provide meat, but the expected big herds did not materialize. No one really suffered. Only a few even resorted to eating their dogs, and some of these did so by preference.
The men were kept busy by the need to hunt, however, and the dissidents were too preoccupied to make trouble. White Buffalo was willing to take credit for the success of the entire affair, but there was a great deal of luck involved, too.
When the Bloods began to grow restless, it was considered time for the women to begin their complaints. It began at the watering place. Making sure there were other women nearby, Tall
One and Antelope Woman carried on a lengthy exchange about the murkiness of the water. It was crystal clear, but by the time they left, the women who overheard were questioning the contents of their own waterskins. Rumor swept through the camp that the water was bad.
As one final event, Tall One staged a complaint to her husband in the presence of several of the People. She berated him for choosing a campsite where there was little fuel and scarce game, of poor quality. Though the entire thing was preplanned, Heads Off was hurt badly enough by the tirade that he did not have to pretend to any great extent when he stalked away in a huff. No matter, thought the girl. She could make it up to him later. She had found it surprisingly difficult to publicly embarrass her husband, even for good cause.
Two of the older Bowstrings who had overheard the tirade stood chuckling as Tall One flounced past.
“Aiee,” one remarked to his companion, “our chief carries a heavy burden.”
Tall One realized that the jest was intended for her ears. She was unsure whether it was to refer to her expansive waistline, or to her temperament, but she must act her assumed role for the present. She wheeled and strode over to the pair.
“My husband’s heaviest burden,” she snapped, “is that he leads warriors such as you two!”
She turned and marched off. The men chuckled, pleased. A woman with spirit was prized by the People. Their eyes, as they watched the retreating form, said that they did not consider the chiefs burden heavy at all.