The move took place next day, without even a warning. Word passed that because of the scarcity of game, the band would work slowly northward, and hunt as they traveled. In this way, they would arrive at the Sun Dance with the rest of the tribe. It would do no harm to arrive a bit early. It was unlikely that the Bloods would leave the festivities once they had arrived.
The location for the Sun Dance, agreed upon the previous year, would be on the north fork of Walnut River. It was a favorite site for this most important annual event of the People.
The strategy outlined by the chief and his advisers worked well. A different camp was established every two or three days. White Buffalo directed their journey in a zigzag fashion, taking many more suns than would have been actually necessary. The wily old medicine man was successful in the finding of buffalo in most cases, so that his devious winding route was not suspected by the dissidents.
The warriors continued to be moderately successful at the hunt, and gradually the band drew nearer the site of the Sun Dance.
The Elk-dog band was not the first to arrive. By custom, the immediate family of the Real-chief of the tribe was responsible for the site, the dance arena, and preparations. Therefore, the Northern band under Many Robes had arrived first and begun the construction of the Sun Dance arbor. Poles had been lashed together to form the framework of the open-sided structure, and
men were handing armfuls of leafy brush to form a shady roof for the week-long events.
The young men of the newly arrived Elk-dogs staged a mock charge, wheeling their horses and whooping in a grand celebration. Some of the Northern band joined in the festivities, and the combined forces circled the camp, shouting and singing and brandishing weapons.
Heads Off was tempted to join the display. His young blood was stirred by the colorful spectacle, but he somehow felt that it might not be appropriate for the dignity of his office.
The young chief noticed that many of the warriors of his own band were not participating in the exuberant arrival celebration. Most of the Bowstrings, but also some of the Elk-dog warriors were merely watching, some with stem looks of disapproval. He glanced around and noticed Sees Far, sitting on his bay mare. The man was glaring at the proceedings with such a hostile gaze that Heads Off was again deeply concerned. He had never seen an individual change so rapidly.
Sees Far had been a quiet, easygoing man, well-liked and competent in his skills. He was by far the best scout and tracker in the entire band, but very modest about it. The band had relied heavily on his abilities in more than one encounter with the Head Splitters. Now, since the death of his nephew and the interest of his own son in the Bloods, Sees Far had changed. He was moody, grumpy, and almost irrational at times. Former friends had begun to avoid him because of his unpleasantness.
Heads Off was deeply concerned lest the skills of Sees Far be lost at a time they might be most needed. He could understand how a man with family problems might become so preoccupied that he would be unaware of all else. Even now, Sees Far sat alone, without friends.
Damn that stupid, arrogant Badger and his cursed Blood Society,
thought the chief. He kneed his horse around, intending to approach Sees Far for a friendly conversation, but the other rode slowly away, not looking back. The very slope of his shoulders indicated his utter desolation. The chief abandoned his intention.
Instead, he turned and rode through the camp to pay his respects to the Real-chief. He waved and nodded to friends and acquaintances of the Northern band as he passed. The camp was well laid out, he observed. Old Many Robes had been an able chief for many seasons. The grass and water were good. Areas for each band’s campsite were level and clear. By age-old custom, the bands camped in a traditional pattern around the central Dance Lodge. Each band occupied the same relative position in the circle as the seat of its chief in the Big Council.
Thus, the camp of the Northern band was already established to the north of the Dance Lodge. The Elk-dogs, being the Southern band, would establish camp on the opposite side. Next on their left would be the Red Rocks, followed by the Mountain band. The Eastern band would occupy the northeast segment of the circle. A space was always left directly to the east, as a doorway for Sun Boy after his rising.
None of the other bands had yet arrived, Heads Off noted. A group of excited young horsemen swept past, singing and shouting, and young women paused to wave and call a greeting. Everyone was being caught up in the excitement of the festive occasion. Heads Off had always been impressed, since he first witnessed the Sun Dance, at the resemblance to a country fair in his own homeland far away. There was excitement in the air, a carnival atmosphere. There would be family reunions, dances of both ceremonial and social nature, feasting, telling of stories, and of course, the Big Council. Each chief would report the events of the year for his band. Thinking this sobering thought, he became depressed again.
Heads Off had nearly reached the lodge of the Real-chief when another cluster of horsemen clattered past. He glanced up, and was startled to see Badger and his companions painted with the ceremonial stripe of scarlet across their brows. This was a complete departure from tradition. Even Heads Off, though a relative newcomer to the tribe, was aware that he had never seen ceremonial painting done merely to greet one’s friends and relatives at the big camp. The now familiar uneasy feeling of dread gnawed at his stomach for a moment.
The gray mare stopped before a resplendent lodge of nearly thirty skins, and Heads Off called a greeting.
“Ah-koh, my chief! I am Heads Off, of the Southern band.”
The Real-chief himself appeared at the doorway, and beckoned the visitor inside.
“Ah-koh, my friend! Come and smoke.”
A young man stepped forward and took the reins of the mare, leading the animal to grass and water. Heads Off stooped and entered the lodge.
His host led the way around the cooking fire to the pile of robes opposite the doorway. He motioned the younger man to a seat, and a woman brought a pipe and filled it. Heads Off brought forth his own pipe, and the two lighted their respective instruments with a stick brought from the fire by one of the wives of the host.
The skirt of the lodge had been raised a few handspans on the south, and a comfortable breeze made the place quite appealing to a hot dusty traveler. The two men visited, talking of the weather, the mild winter, the hunt, and the lack of any contact with the Head Splitters. Then the old chief suddenly leaned forward confidentially and spoke on a new subject.
“You have trouble with some of your young men?”
Heads Off was astonished. He had long since become aware
that the old chief was an extremely acute observer. The Real-chief also undoubtedly had observers to report to him. But how, only moments after their arrival, had he known of the internal politics of one of the bands under his jurisdiction? Once again, Heads Off marveled at the astuteness of the old man. Truly, he was a chief.