“What will be done?” Heads Off asked his father-in-law as they approached the Big Council. Every man, woman and child in the entire tribe was present. None wished to miss the important decisions brought on by this tragic event.
“I do not know, Heads Off. Such a thing has not happened in my lifetime.”
“There was once such a matter before I was born,” spoke White Buffalo from the other side, “but I do not remember what was done to the killer.”
In his own homeland, the penalty would be prison or death, reflected Heads Off. But he realized the complete difference of this situation. It had never occurred to him to wonder how the People meted out punishment to breakers of the tribal law.
“He will probably be banished,” observed White Buffalo.
They reached the circle and seated themselves, and none too soon. The Real-chief and his cortege were approaching.
By contrast with the relaxed slow-moving formality of previous sessions of the Big Council, this gathering progressed rapidly. Many Robes hurried through the ritual smoke and ordered the offender brought to the Council.
Badger was allowed to speak, and made again the point that he had acted only in self-defense when attacked.
The woman who had been nearest to the brief fight again stated that Sees Far had been unarmed.
Another man, one of the older warriors, asked and received permission to speak.
“My chiefs,” he glanced around the circle, “none of this has any meaning. The important thing is only that one of our warriors has killed a man of his own, the People.” He sat down without waiting to see the reaction.
Several others spoke, all to the same effect. The law was absolute on this point. There was simply no worse crime among the People. Badger began to look more and more desperate. Heads Off could almost feel sorry for the young man.
“It is enough!” Many Robes finally ended the discussion. “The Council will vote. Shall Badger, who has killed one of our own, be banished?”
To be banished was virtually a death sentence. A person expelled would be forbidden, on pain of death, to enter the camp of any band of his former tribe. He would be a person adrift, with no home, friends, or relatives. It might be possible, Coyote had told his son-in-law earlier, that if Badger were banished he could live among the Grower tribes along the river. Another possibility would be to approach the Head Splitters and throw himself on their mercy. Heads Off thought it unlikely that a proud young man like Badger would take either action. He would prefer to take his chances alone on the prairie. His young wife, Heads Off had learned, would have the option of following her disgraced husband or returning to her parents’ lodge.
Many Robes now called for the vote.
“The Mountain band?” he inquired expectantly.
Old Black Beaver silently nodded, voting the affirmation for expulsion.
“Red Rocks?”
Chief White Bear, too, gave the silent nod.
“Elk-dog band?”
“My chief, I withhold the vote.”
Heads Off had struggled with the decision. He now realized that it was too emotionally loaded a situation for him to decide in a rational manner. The Real-chief nodded acknowledgment of the abstention, and moved on around the circle.
“Eastern band?”
Small Ears solemnly inclined his head, and for practical purposes the vote was over. Many Robes spoke for the Northern band as well as in his capacity as Real-chief He addressed Badger.
“You are no longer of the People. You have, by your act, shown this. Any of the People may turn you away, or kill you if they choose. By the time Sun Boy is overhead, you must be gone!”
Badger stood, surrounded by the People, no longer his people. He appeared about to speak, then changed his mind and shuffled away from the fire. His young wife rose, and tears streaming, followed him away. The crowd parted before them.
Then an amazing thing happened. As the couple reached the outer fringe of the circle, a young man leaped to his feet and faced the chiefs of the Council.
“I go with Badger!”
“I, too!” Another stood.
Within a few heartbeats, several young warriors were standing and shouting. Badger stopped, apparently surprised, and turned to look at the circle. His slumping shoulders drew up and back and he again assumed a stance of confidence and assurance. He seemed about to speak again. Many Robes had no intention of causing a further split in the tribe by allowing Badger a speech.
“The Council is ended,” he announced, rising to depart.
The crowd split into a score of smaller groups, buzzing with excitement. Badger and his followers drew aside, becoming noisier and more confident as they attracted more young men.
Heads Off felt as though a great weight had lifted from his shoulders. All the doubts and indecision of the past few moons had in a few hours been resolved. Even under the tragic circumstances, even with the tearing apart of families and mourning of mothers for departing sons, at least something decisive had happened. He watched as the Bloods began excited preparations for their departure at daylight. They were making a festival of it.
“Go ask Red Dog,” someone shouted. A rider loped away. There were more shouts, and excited laughter. Things were rapidly getting out of hand.
Heads Off felt a heavy, sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. It appeared that what should have been a disgrace for Badger, the instigator of the rebellion, was turning into a triumph. The young men did not realize the gravity of their decision.
“At least,” Heads Off muttered to Coyote at his elbow, “it is over.”
Coyote took a deep breath before he answered.
“No, my friend. It is only beginning!”