VI VI The old man chuckled after one of his long silences. “Yes,” he said, “I wondered if the great voice was angry when it called to me on the pointed hill. But my grandfather was not angry about the pipe, and maybe the great voice was not either. I thought and thought about this. Maybe that was the only voice Wakon Tonka had, and it only sounded angry because it was so big. Maybe it was cheering me for making the offering.
“Everybody was getting ready for the big hunt, and something wonderful was going to happen. I might even get a cow, a lame one; and then everybody would praise me. Anyway, it would be a calf—one that got lost, maybe in a draw to one side away from the herd. When I had killed it, I would find my mother and grandmother, and they would come and butcher it. Then we would pack the meat on Whirlwind, and when we came into the village with the meat, people would notice and my grandmother would tell the other old women: ‘See what my grandson did, and he is going to give it all to the old people.’
“The scouts had gone out to look for a bison herd over towards where the sun comes up, and one day the criers went about the village, calling: ‘Make moccasins for your children! Look after the children’s moccasins!’ And that meant to be ready, for we were going to move. Then early next morning the criers went around, calling: ‘Councilors, come to the center! Councilors, come to the center and bring your fires!’ They did this because in the old days a long time ago, the people had no matches or flint and steel. They could make fire another way in dry rotten wood by rubbing sticks together, but that was hard and could not always be done. Fire was sacred then, and had to be kept alive when the people moved. Then when they camped again, everybody came to the center and got fire for their own tepees. They did not have to do it this time, but it was part of living in a sacred manner, and that was good for the people.
“When the councilors had brought their fires to the center, the criers shouted to the people: ‘Take it down! Take it down!’ And the women all began taking down the tepees and packing everything on pony-drags. Then when everything was ready we began moving towards where the sun comes up, for that way the scouts had gone. First were the six councilors on foot; then came the chiefs with the criers behind them, then the akichita, and after them were the people with the loaded pony-drags. If there were enemies to be feared, there would be riders out there on our flanks and some ahead and behind; but there was no enemy to fear the way we were going; and we were so many that no band of Crows would attack us moving.
“There were four teoshpaiay going together on this hunt, one after the other in a long line; and it makes me feel good to remember how it looked. The akichita were not very strict before we came near the bison, and the children could play along the way. Maybe the girls would pick pretty flowers or dig up some wild turnips, or there might be a clump of rabbit berry bushes looking smoky with the berries getting red in them, like sparks; or, if it was late enough, plums might be getting good to eat, and the children would pick them while the people were passing. The bigger boys could play ‘throwing them off their horses.’ That was a rough game, but it was good for boys because it helped them to be brave warriors later on. They would divide up into little bands and charge each other, wrestling from the horses’ backs, and sometimes a boy would get hurt. I was not big enough yet for that game, but I had a good time on Whirlwind, and sometimes I would get on a high place and see all the people traveling in a sacred manner. They were happy, and you could hear them singing here and there along the line. Maybe a drag pony would lift his head and neigh because the singing of the people made him want to sing too; and then the other ponies would lift their heads and sing down along the line.
“That was the next time I saw Tashina. I was riding up and down the line with some other boys; and when we came to where the Miniconjou were, I heard somebody cry out: ‘Shorika ’kan! Shonka ’kan! Come and pull my tepee!’ And it was Tashina looking up at me. I was getting to be a big boy, for I had mourned and wandered, and I had killed a deer. Also I was going to kill a bison cow pretty soon, or anyway a calf. So I was too big to play with girls any more, and I did not say anything back. I wanted to talk to her, because I liked her; but I just made Whirlwind prance and rear. And when I rode away, I could see her sticking her tongue out at me and I heard her cry: Yah! Yah! Go and eat grass! Go and eat grass, Shonka ‘kan sheetsha [bad horse]!’ ”
With a chuckle the old man went into one of his reveries, gazing at me with eyes that saw what wasn’t there. “She was a pretty little girl,” he said, more to himself than to me; “a very pretty little girl.” Then the focus of his gaze shortened to include me, and he continued:
“It was a time for the people to be happy, so we traveled slowly. And when the sun stood high above us, it would be time to rest awhile and let the ponies graze. The councilors would choose a place where there was water and good grass. Then the criers would call out to the people: ‘Take off your loads and rest your horses! Take them off and rest your horses.’ And if wild turnips were growing there, they would say: ‘Take your sticks and dig some turnips for yourselves!’ And the women would do this while the ponies drank and grazed and the councilors sat on a hillside watching the people. And when they had smoked together maybe two or three pipes, it would be time to move again, and the criers would call: ‘Now put on your loads! Put them on!’ And we would move, as before, until the sun was getting low.
“By that time the councilors would know a good place to camp for the night where there was plenty of wood, water, and grass, and the criers would tell the people to make camp.
“We were all camped the sacred way, in a big hoop of four hoops with the opening towards where you are always facing [the south], and the tepee-thrown-over-together was in the center. The drags were all outside the circle, and, all around, the horses were grazing with the horse guards watching them. Smokes were standing above the tepees, for it was morning and the people were eating.
“Then there was a crier shouting: ‘They are returning! The scouts I have seen. They are returning!’ And all the people came out of the tepees to look. Three horsebacks were coming over the hill towards where the sun comes up, and they had something good to tell, for as they galloped down the hillside we could hear them singing together.
“When they had entered the hoop where you are always facing, they turned to the left and rode single file about the circle from left to right, looking straight ahead and saying nothing; and the people waited and were still. And when they had come again to the opening, they turned to the right and rode towards the center where the councilors and chiefs were waiting in the tepee-thrown-over-together. And as the riders came near, a crier spoke for the scouts, calling to the chiefs and councilors: ‘Come forth and make haste! I have protected you, and you shall give to me in return.’
“Then the chiefs and councilors came forth, and the scouts sat down in front of them, facing the tepee, and all the people crowded around to see and hear.
“Then the chief filled a pipe and lit it; and when he had presented it to the Six Powers, first to the four quarters of the earth, then to the Great Mystery above, and last to the ground, which is the mother of all living things, he placed it on a buffalo chip in front of him, with the stem towards the scouts. There was bison hide on the mouthpiece of the pipe, and it was sacred; for it was through the bison that Earth, the mother of all, fed the people, and whoever smoked the pipe was nursing at his mother’s breast like a little child. The chip was sacred too, for it meant the bison. They were the life and shelter of the people’s hoop, and when they died, the sacred hoop was broken.
“Then the chief spoke to the scouts: ‘The nation has depended upon you. Whatever you have seen, maybe it is for the good of the people you have seen it.’ And when he had said this, he offered the pipe to the scouts. They took it, smoking in turn, and that was a sacred vow that what they told would be the truth.
“Then the chief spoke again, and said: ‘At what place have you stood and seen the good? Report it to me and I shall be glad. You have been raised on this earth, and every corner of it you know. So tell me the truth.’
“The first scout was so anxious to tell that he forgot the sacred rules and held up his thumb to the Great Mysterious One. But before he spoke, the chief shook his head and said: ‘Hunh unh! The first finger! The first finger for the truth!’ So the first scout raised his first finger and said: ‘You know where we started from. We came to a hill yonder, and there in the next valley we saw some bison.’
“The chief stood up when he heard this, and said: ‘Maybe you have seen more farther on. Report it to me and I shall be glad.’ And the second scout raised his first finger, saying: ‘Beyond this hill there is another, and there we saw a small herd grazing in a valley.’ And the chief spoke again: ‘I shall be thankful if you will tell me more of the good that you have seen.’ And the third scout said: ‘From still another hill farther on, there we saw a big herd grazing in a valley and on the hillsides.’
“Then the chief spoke again, saying: ‘Maybe you have not told me all the good that you have seen. Tell it now, and all the people will be glad.’ When he had said this, the scouts forgot the rules and all began talking together: ‘There is still another hill! Wasichu! Wasichu! There was nothing but bison all over the prairie! More than many looks could see! Wasichu! Wasichu!’
“When they said that, they did not mean white men. They meant very, very much of something, more than could be told or counted, like a great fatness. Then the chief cried out: ‘Hetchetu aloh! [So be it].’ And all the people shouted, ‘hi-yay, hi-yay,’ and the grazing horses out yonder, hearing the people, sent forth voices, neighing for gladness; and dogs raised their snouts and howled.
“Then the criers went forth and the people were still to hear them: ‘Many bison I have heard! Many bison I have heard! Your knives you must sharpen! Your arrows make sharp. Make ready, make haste, your horses make ready! We shall go forth with arrows. Plenty of meat we shall make!’
“I had already sharpened my arrows so often that if I sharpened them much more, I wouldn’t have any left. While the people were all getting ready for the big killing of meat, the council sent for certain young men who were being noticed by the people, and to these the chief said: ‘Good young warriors, my relatives, your work I know is good. What you do is good always. So today you will feed the helpless and the old and feeble. Maybe there is an old woman or an old man who has no son. Or there may be a woman who has little children but no man. You will know these and hunt only for them. Today you belong to the needy.’ This made the young men very proud, for it was a great honor.
“Then as the people were taking their places for going to the hunt, the criers shouted: ‘Your children, take care of them! Your children, take care of them!’ After that the children must stay close to their parents and not run around, for they might scare the bison; also, they might get hurt.
“Then we started off towards the big herd. First went the three scouts, riding abreast to show the way. Then came the councilors and the chiefs with the criers; and after them came all the akichita riding twenty abreast, and next were all the hunters, four or five abreast. If any hunter rode ahead of the akichita, he would be knocked off his horse and he would get no meat that day. Also, he would see shame in all eyes. The killing was for the nation, and everyone must have the same chance to kill. After the hunters were the women and older men, who would follow up and butcher the kill. Each hunter knew his arrows by the marks, and so he claimed his meat. And if two should claim a kill, then an akichita could decide between them or have the meat divided.
“We did not stop to rest that day, and when the sun was getting high, we began to see bison. Sometimes they were scattered out and sometimes there were small herds, but nobody was allowed to shoot at them or to cry out in a loud voice. They might get frightened, and the running fear might spread like fire in dry grass, until the big herd yonder caught the fear and started running. It was hard for the younger hunters riding behind the akichita up there; but no one pulled a bow or raised a voice; and all the children kept close to their mothers with the drags in the rear.
“The sun was high and had started down a little, when we saw that those ahead up yonder had stopped on a ridge to look. And while they were looking, voices came running all along the line down to us: ‘Many bison they have seen! Make ready, make haste! Make ready to follow with your knives! They are going to charge!’
“Then just when the voices had come running back to us, we could see the hunters and akichita up yonder splitting into two big bands; one to the right and one to the left.”
With a hand at his brow the old man peered narrow-eyed at the head of the column on the ridge that was a lifetime away. Then, clapping his hands high above his head, he cried: “They are charging over the hill! They are all charging! The hunters and akichita are charging! Hoka-hey! hoka-hey!
“Everybody was excited, and the people were hurrying towards the hunt, except the very old ones and the women who stayed back to take care of the drag ponies and the children and to set up the tepees; for that was a good place to camp and there would soon be plenty of meat to dry and many hides to tan.
“Nobody was noticing me, and there were no akichita around there, so when I saw the hunters charge I charged too—not towards where the hunters had gone, but away from the people to the right where there was a big patch of buffalo berry bushes to help me. When Whirlwind and I got behind them, we started on the run towards where there was a break in the ridge ahead, to the right of where the hunters went over. While we were crossing the valley, my calf grew so fast that when I rode into the ravine, it wasn’t a calf at all any more, but a big fat cow, and maybe even two cows.
“The ravine was full of thunder that was coming from a rolling storm of dust ahead. And when we got close over there and stopped to look down, we were a little scared. Whirlwind snorted and wanted to go back, but I had made an offering and I had to do something.
“Dust and thunder, dust and steady thunder with bull voices roaring in it! And wherever the dust blew thinner in the wind or lifted a little, there were backs, backs, backs of galloping bison bobbing up and down; bison beyond counting and more and more. And here and there over to the left I could see horsebacks charging in and out along the flanks of the herd, killing and killing, lost in the dust and appearing, lost and appearing. And while I looked, a big man on a big Wasichu horse that he must have taken from the soldiers came charging out of the dust. He was after a big bull with only a spear. Just as he was coming in front of me, he rode close and leaned far over. Then I saw him drive the spear with both hands in behind the bull’s front leg. I forgot that I should not be where I was, and I yelled and yelled; but the man did not know I was there. I could see that his mouth was wide open and I knew he was shouting for a kill, but he did not make any sound in the steady thunder. Then the bull stopped and turned and charged the horseback; but the man did not run away. He was very brave. Also he knew how to handle his horse, and the horse was wise too. They dodged and reared and circled until the man got hold of his spear again. Then with both hands he drove it deeper and pried it back and forth. The bull’s mouth gushed blood, and when he started running again, he wabbled; and I could see the man prying the spear back and forth until the dust hid them.
“Just then, right down there not far away, a cow came loping with my calf! I did not wait. I charged. It is not easy to put an arrow where you want it from a galloping horse’s back and the horse all excited. I was yelling, ‘yu-hoo,’ already, because I had one arrow sticking in the calf’s hump and was pulling the bow for another try at the right place behind the front leg, when Whirlwind squealed and reared and wheeled away. For a long time after that it made me feel a little better when I blamed him for running away with me just as I was really getting my calf. But I was as scared as he was when I saw the cow charging us, and I did not look around until we were far up the side of the ridge. By that time the cow was loping back to find her calf.
“When I got Whirlwind to stand still, I was a little scared yet, and I was ashamed too. Nobody but the cow saw me running away, but Wakon Tonka could see everything, and I had made an offering. So I thought, there are plenty of calves, and when Whirlwind is not afraid any more I will charge again. Maybe it will be better next time.
“But that part of the herd was getting thinner as it passed to the right, and I could see more and more hunters among them, killing and killing. Sometimes I could even hear their cries above the rumbling sound when they killed: ‘Ohee! Yuhoo!’ Then I said to myself, ‘If I go down there now they will see me and the akichita will get me.’ So I did not go down. Anyway, it was good to watch the hunters killing, and that is what I did. Afterwhile, when the dust and rumbling had passed, I could see the people yonder scattered in spots all over the prairie butchering the kill. That made me very hungry, so I galloped down there where the grass was beaten to dust; and wherever I came to a butchering they would give me something to eat—a chunk of liver, maybe with gall poured over it, or a piece of the strip of fat that runs along the backbone. It is good raw, but it is even better roasted a little. By the time I found my grandmother and grandfather, they had a fat cow all cut up on the stretched-out hide. They told me to ride over to a draw and to get some dry brush; and when I got back, my grandmother made a little fire. Then she roasted pieces of fat hump meat, and some old people came over to help us eat it.
“When the sun was getting low people were going back to camp with their horse-loads and drag-loads of meat and hides; and they kept on coming in with their loads long after it was dark. Before the feasting began, all the councilors and chiefs went into the tepee-thrown-over-together, and people came from all over the village with gifts of the best meat. This is how they gave thanks for good leading. Then the councilors cried, ‘hiya-hiya,’ and sang all together to the bringers of food. And when the councilors had eaten awhile, the criers went about the village again, calling: ‘All come home, for it is more than we can eat. Come home! There is plenty for all!’ Then the people came with their cups and crowded about the tepee-thrown-over-together that all might have some of the councilors’ meat; and after that the feasting began—feasting and dancing all night long. I can see the circle of the village yet with all the fires and the happy people feasting and singing. It makes me want to sing, too, for that is the way the Grandfather meant we should live. It was the sacred way and it kept the people good.
“That was near the Rosebud River, and it was a big killing; for we stayed there and killed until there was plenty for all. We had no hunter in our tepee, but the chosen young men offered us more than we could use, and my father’s brother-friend, Looks Twice, took care of us. He brought the meat to my grandparents; but I know now that he was thinking most of my mother, because he wanted to be my father; and afterwhile he was.
“Next day there were drying racks all over the village, and I can see the stripped red meat turning brown in the bright sunlight, and the brown turning black. And I can see the happy women sitting in little circles with their sharp knives, unwinding the chunks of meat in their laps. They are joking and laughing and holding up their strips of meat to see whose is thinnest and longest. And outside the village raw hides are pegged out everywhere, and the old women are scraping and beating them for the soft tanning that made them good to wear and to sleep in on the coldest night.
“But I kept thinking and thinking about the calf I did not kill and of the way I got chased by the cow. If it had only been a bull I might have felt better. It helped a little to blame Whirlwind for running away; but then I would remember the big voice that called to me on the pointed hill when I offered my grandfather’s pipe, and I began to feel sure the voice was angry at me.
“Some of us boys made a war-game of sneaking up to the racks at night and stealing meat without getting caught. It was like going on the warpath for enemy horses. We had war councils out in the brush before we went and kill-talks around the fire if we got back safe with the meat. That was fun; but I kept thinking and thinking about the angry voice, and I was not quite happy. I wanted to try for a calf again, but I was afraid to try because I kept hearing the great voice scolding me for stealing the pipe from my grandfather.
“When my grandmother noticed how I was acting, she said: ‘I wonder what is the matter with our grandson. He looks queer and he does not say anything.’ Then my mother looked at me and said: ‘I think he has been eating too much again. He is always eating.’ ”