XX XX “There was strength in that meat,” remarked Eagle Voice, when next we sat alone together in his tepee and the pipe was passed. “Almost as strong as fat bison cow, and even I could chew it. Good meat and stories told with friends make young awhile. When I was getting wood this morning I could smell melting in the wind. It is far to the young grass yet, but I think there will be a little water running before the wind changes. It was like that to eat good meat with No Water and Moves Walking and you, and to remember together.”
When we had talked awhile about our two guests at the late feast, the old man said: “They are younger than I am, but Moves Walking is not much younger. No Water was only a boy when we fought the soldiers of the Gray Fox [General Crook] on the Rosebud, and when we rubbed out Long Hair [Custer] on the Greasy Grass. But Moves Walking was almost a young man already, the winter when the thirty Lakota were killed. That was the winter after my first sun dance that I have told you about.
“Yes, Moves Walking was with us when the thirty were killed, and I will tell you how that was. After our fall hunt when we made our winter camp on Powder River with plenty of paya and wasna, High Horse and Kicking Bear came back from Pa Sapa [the Black Hills] and the hunting with their people yonder. We had talked, the way I told you, about great deeds that we would do that winter; and so they came. It was when the Moon of Falling Leaves was young that they came, and there was not yet any snow.
“Charging Cat was going along with us again, for he had helped us when we drove off all those Crow horses. Nobody ever noticed him much, and he did not talk until he had to do it, like saying, ‘Yes,’ or, ‘No,’ maybe, or ‘We can do that.’ He had a long jaw, and he looked sad, like an old horse. But whatever we would say, he wanted to do that. The four of us were going alone, maka mani like the last time. It would be braver that way, and if we found deep snow, there would be no horses to starve—until we got some from the enemy.
“When we were getting ready, people noticed us because we had made names for ourselves. Young men came to us, and said, ‘We are men too, and we are going with you.’ So when we started, there were many of us. Some were hardly more than boys and some had sons, and some had scars from many fights.
“So when we were all ready, we started southwest, for we were going against the Shoshonis over where the mountains are. We called them snake men, because that was their sign-language name. When we had slept twice, there was a creek with plenty of wood and good water and signs of game, and there we camped to hunt and rest and eat fresh meat.
“We were camping there one sleep, and the sun was just going down again. There was no wind in the brush. Our fires were warm. Meat was boiling in the paunches of deer. They were set up, each with four sticks, and hot rocks made the water boil in them. The soup was smelling good already, along with ribs and entrails roasting over coals. It was not enemy country yet, and we felt safe there.
“All at once somebody was yelling; and when we looked, it was Last Dog running fast towards us down a little hill. He was saying, ‘They are coming! Get ready to die here! Enemies are coming!’ He was all out of breath when he came to us. ‘I was creeping up to the top of a ridge,’ he said, and he was panting hard; ‘A deer went that way, and I was creeping up, but there was no deer. There were men in the brush! I do not know how many, but there were many. Many! They were peeking out at me, and I came here to tell you. That is why I did not fight and die there. I am a man, and I will die here protecting my brothers.’ Then he began singing a death-song.
“Nobody liked Last Dog very much, because he was always talking about how brave he was. Sometimes we called him Big Mouth. But some Crows might be roving around there, so we got ready to fight right where we were. Anyway, the meat smelled good and we were hungry. There were more than fifty of us, and was not one Lakota better than two Crows? We could eat while we were waiting to fight, and that is what we did.
“It was beginning to get dark along the creek when Last Dog jumped up and said, ‘Look! They are crawling over the hilltop yonder!’ We looked and it was so. They were crawling out of the sky there, and all at once many were charging down upon us, yelling. But they were saying, ‘Hoka hey, Kola! Hoka hey, Kola!’
“They were Lakotas from our village, all maka mani like us. When we were gone two sleeps, some others thought they would follow, and others followed after them; and they had camped where we had camped. Moves Walking was with them. I think they saw Last Dog coming and wanted to watch him run. Also they were having fun with us.
“So there were about a hundred mouths around the boiling paunches and the fires, eating and laughing that night. Some of the youngsters joked Last Dog about his enemies, and one of them asked when he was going to begin dying. That made Last Dog angry, and he shouted, ‘You shall see who is a man around here!’ Then his brother-in-law He Crow, who was a good warrior and a quiet man, said, ‘Look around you, brother, and count us. We are all men around here.’ And Last Dog looked down his nose.
“Next morning we started out again for Shoshoni country. When we had slept once, we walked until the sun was high and we camped in a good place to hunt and rest, for those who had followed were more tired than we who went first. So we were eating there when the sun was just down, and a big moon was coming up. The air was sharp and it was blowing a little from the way we were going. There was a low bank along the creek on that side, and it broke the wind. Our little fires felt good, and we were not looking for enemies yet.
“But all at once—men were there on the bank looking down at us, and they were not some more Lakotas! They were Crows! The country was rough on that side and the wind was at their backs. They were going to camp where we were, and they ran right into us. My mouth was full of meat, but I forgot to chew—I think all of us forgot to chew. They were looking at us and we were looking at them. It seemed long, but I think it would have been only a breath or two, if any of us, Crow or Lakota, were breathing.”
Eagle Voice paused to stare open-mouthed. Then he clapped his hands. “Whang!. One yonder yelled and sent an arrow among us. Then everybody was yelling; and there was nobody on the bank. They were runinng away.
“When we were up the bank, they were strung out and running fast towards a high butte yonder. There were about thirty of them, all maka mani. One was leading a horse with a pack and another was running behind, beating the horse with a bow. There was a dog, and he was running and leaping among them and yelping. Maybe he was saying, ‘Hoka hey! It’s a good day to die, brothers!’ But nobody was stopping to die. We were shooting at them by now, and one of them tumbled. Most of us just couped the man as we ran past, and some boys got the scalp. There were plenty of scalps running away yonder, and we wanted to stop them before they got to the butte.
“But they had the start and got there first. There was a way up into the butte through some big rocks, and it was narrow at the bottom where the rocks were. Most of them ran in there with the horse, while the others stopped to shoot at us. Then those ran after the others.
“It was beginning to get dark and the big moon was back of the butte yet. They had some guns too, and we shot at each other for a while; but there were many rocks around there and we were scattered out among them. It was getting dark fast, and maybe the Crows were too scared to hit anything. Between shooting we could hear them rolling rocks into the narrow way, and we knew we could not charge up in the dark. So we sent some scouts around the butte to see where the Crows could get down and run away. It was high and steep all around, and they could never get down alive, even if they left the horse.
“There was a rocky draw with brush in it not far from the narrow way up the butte, and we camped in there. The enemy could see the light of our fires, but they could not shoot at us. In the morning we would see what we could do. So we sent men back to bring the paunches and the meat from the other camping place, also the blankets and robes that we had left there. Some took turns watching the opening, and we feasted by many little fires.
“While we were eating, the big moon looked over the butte. The air was sharp without wind. When we listened, there was nothing to hear but a stick popping in a fire, maybe. When new guards went out and the others came back, they had heard nothing up there, and we wondered about this.
“Many were asleep. Charging Cat was snoring in his blanket, but Kicking Bear and High Horse and I were sitting in our blankets by a little fire. The big moon stood tall above the butte. I dozed and awoke. The moon was overhead. There was a voice up yonder in the butte, and it was mourning. Many of those who had slept, sat up and listened. Sometimes the voice was like a falling wind in a tree. Then it rose high and thin, high and sharp and thin, as high as the moon, and fell again like a wind moaning. The dog began to mourn too with a long low howl. Then he would yelp and his voice would rise high and thin, higher than the man’s, farther than the moon. Then it would be a low long howl again. Some wolves heard and sang back.
“The voice stopped mourning and the dog was still. High Horse said, ‘I think we hit somebody up there.’ And Kicking Bear said, ‘Maybe they are mourning for tomorrow while they can.’ Then the man’s voice began again, and it was singing a death-song, and the dog sang too. A guard came running, and said, ‘One is singing a death-song! Maybe they are coming down to die here!’ So we all got ready to fight. We waited and listened. The man and dog stopped singing. The moon stared and started down the sky. The air was sharp and bright and still. After-while a guard came and said, ‘There is no sound up yonder. We have seen nothing move in the moonlight.’ New wood cracked on the low fires, and it was loud. Charging Cat began to snore in his blanket. Many slept. I sat and dozed.
“The moon was staring low over the edge of the world. I was shivering in my blanket by the embers. Day was coming and the butte was dark against it.
“When we had eaten what was left of the meat, it was time to go up into the butte. Many wanted to go first, but Kicking Bear, High Horse, and I had started the party, so they let us go. Charging Cat did not say anything. He just came along the way a dog does.
“The others were waiting to see what would happen. And we crawled up over the rocks that the Crows had piled in the opening. There was nobody. So we climbed on up a crooked way among rocks. Sometimes we crawled, then we would lie flat and listen. There was nothing. When we were nearly up the butte, we could see the others waiting, so we waved to them and they started up. The top of the butte was broader than we thought, and almost flat. Some brush grew here and there, and at the far end there were some crooked little trees half dead. We stood and stared around. There was nobody. There was a hawk floating high in the morning. We came to the little trees that were half dead at the far end of the butte top, and looked over. There was a wall of rock straight down to a slope at the bottom. A many-knotted rawhide rope was hanging there, and we saw that it was tied around the thickest little tree.
“The others were running about the butte top, looking down over the steep sides and staring around. When they saw the knotted rawhide rope hanging, some were angry and wanted to follow; but there were more who laughed. Some could not believe all of the story the rope told. How could a horse get down there? Somebody said he just made himself some wings and flew. So it ended in laughing.
“I was almost an old man when I heard all about that night on the butte top. It was long after we had all settled down on reservations, and some of us went over to visit the Crows. There were two old men there who had the ends of their right forefingers cut off, and they were in that party. It was a holy man who told the other Crows how to get away. First he prayed to Wakon Tonka for help, and if help came and they all got home, each man would cut off his forefinger as an offering. Then he told them to cut up their robes in broad strips and tie these together. When this was done, they let two men down over the cliff. If these saw anybody, they would jerk twice on the rope and the others would pull them up again. If there was nobody down there, they would jerk once. After a long while, the two men jerked once, for they had been crawling around and they had seen what we were doing on the other side of the butte. Then the Crows on the butte tied the horse’s legs together and let him down over the side with the rope sliding through a crotch of the thickest half-dead tree. There were thirty-two in the party, so there were thirty holding the rope. That was when the holy man with his dog began to mourn so loud. He mourned until most of the men were down too, and then he began the death-song to keep us watching over there while the main party was getting away with the horse. When he stopped singing, two who were left let him down with his dog; then they climbed down with their hands on the rope and their feet against the cliff. It was a good joke on us, and we laughed as friends with the old Crows who told the story.
“But that was many snows afterwards. We had lost our Crows, and, anyway, we were going against the Shoshonis over by the mountains. We traveled two more sleeps, but now we were careful, for it was enemy country. Scouts went before us and behind us, also on our right and left. It was a good country for game and our scouts killed plenty of meat with their bows.
“When we were camping the third time after the Crows fooled us, I awoke in the night. There was no moon. The still dark was soft and full of whispers. Snow was falling thick and the embers of our fire made spitting sounds. I put more wood on, and that wakened Kicking Bear and High Horse. Charging Cat was snoring. If there was no fighting or eating to do, he could sleep. We talked about the snow. It was going to be hard for us, but we were men, and the Shoshonis would not be looking for us in deep snow. Kicking Bear said, ‘Dho, it will be hard for us, and the Shoshonis will not expect us. But we are only men and we shall need help if this snow falls deep. Last time we made an offering and came back safe with seventy-five horses; but there was no snow. We must make an offering.’
“Our camp was in the brush by a creek, and there was a hill not far away. We could not see it, but we knew it was there and that is where the three of us went. Charging Cat was snoring, so we did not bother him. What came to us would come to him also. On top of the hill we raised our hands and our faces to where the sun goes down, for from thence comes the power to make live and to destroy. We wanted to live and to destroy our enemies. Kicking Bear had his pipe and he prayed, offering it to the power we needed. If we came home safe with many horses, we would give them all away. Only a few we would keep maybe, for hunting and war. Also, if we should win a great victory, we would dance again, piercing our flesh. When Kicking Bear had prayed, we said, ‘hetchetu aloh,’ and waited awhile with our hands and our faces to the dark sky, so that the power would go into us. All around us we could hear the still night whispering, and the snow was wet on my face. Then we left the pipe on the hill with the mouthpiece towards the sunset, and went back to where the lights of the low fires looked fuzzy in the snowfall.
“When we had eaten in the morning and were walking again, the snow was three hand-breadths deep, and still it fell and whispered. The air was getting colder and the snow fell finer and finer until it was like white dust. It stopped before we made a camp, and the sun looked out when it was setting. We thought our prayer was heard on the dark hill and our offering accepted.
“We had not seen any Shoshonis, but we knew we were in their country. They would be staying in their winter camps and the snow would help, for they would not be wandering about. Next day was dark with clouds and the wind was changing. We walked slowly, waiting for what our scouts might see. There would be a puff of wind and the snow would whirl about our feet and slide along the ground like snakes—shosho—shosho. Then it would be still; then it would blow again and stop.
“The sun was overhead, but we could not see it. It was halfway down, maybe, and still we could not see it. The wind was getting stronger. Four scouts were out ahead of us and one of them was Last Dog, the big-mouthed one. We came to a ridge and stopped to look over. There was a white valley with low snow hurrying down it, for it lay with the wind that was getting stronger. Beyond the valley was another ridge, and as we looked yonder—” Eagle Voice paused to listen for a moment, then clapped his hands. “Boom!—boom! There was shooting yonder under the far ridge. We crouched there and waited. Maybe we would have to fight right where we were. We waited, with the snow whirling about our knees. We waited; then the four came puffing and running. Last Dog had killed, and he was bragging. He showed a wet scalp and bragged; but the three others looked down their noses. They had seen two horsebacks yonder, a man and a little boy, and the boy was tied to his horse. ‘My three friends here,’ Last Dog said, ‘wanted to hide and let them go, but I am a man and I am not afraid. I could not catch the other, for his horse ran away with him and I am afoot.’
“Many were angry. ‘We cannot surprise them now,’ they said. ‘They will come with horses, and we must fight them where they find us.’ Then He Crow said to Last Dog, ‘Brother-in-law, we may have to give many scalps for one you have taken too soon.’ And Last Dog, being angry, yelled back at He Crow, ‘Go and see where your husband butchered! You are afraid to go and see where your husband butchered!’
“That was a bad saying for a brave man to hear, and for a while He Crow looked down and said nothing. He was thinking how it would be if he did not go and they both got back home. Last Dog could say, ‘Wife, how did you like the way your husband butchered?’ Anyone could laugh. Maybe little boys would hear and point at him and laugh. Then He Crow looked hard at Last Dog, and said, ‘Brother-in-law, you know I am no man’s woman. I am a man and I can die.’
“He Crow had five brothers and all were with us. When he started alone for the far ridge yonder, we all stood and watched him walking fast. He did not look back. When he was nearly to the valley, the oldest of the brothers said to the youngest, and his name was Running Wolf, ‘Stay here. We are going.’ Maybe he was thinking of their father and mother and wanted the boy to live and get back home. Then the four older brothers started running after He Crow. When they were halfway down the hill, the youngest brother cried out to the others and started running after them. Then I saw that Charging Cat was going too. He did not say anything; he just started running.
“The wind had been getting stronger, and the light snow was lifting and flying. There were many rocks along the ridge, and we were getting ready to fight there on that high place with the rocks to help us if many Shoshonis came with horses. They would be coming. We knew by the little boy tied on his horse that a winter village was near. They would be coming soon, and it would be better to fight among the rocks.
“When we saw Charging Cat starting down the hill, we looked at each other, Kicking Bear and High Horse and I. Then we started too, running after Charging Cat. The wind was howling down the valley when we crossed it. We were nearly up the hill when I looked back. Some others were coming too. I do not know how many. They were dim in the flying snow. Those ahead were dim in the flying snow; and then they were over the ridge.
“We were coming to the top and there was shooting ahead of us. The sounds were dull and mixed with the wind and snow. I looked back again, and many, like shadows, were coming towards us yonder. Our people heard the shots, and they were not waiting to fight among the rocks on the ridge. They were coming to help us. Then we looked over the top of the ridge ahead. Some horsebacks were coming and shooting. They were floating and blowing with the snow; sometimes only horses’ heads and riders blowing in the wind with no legs under them and no sound of hoofs. Our warriors who had gone ahead were in a bunch down there shooting at the horsebacks. We yelled, ‘Hoka-hey,’ and charged down towards where they stood.”
Eagle Voice closed his eyes, and for some time sat in silence. At length he looked at me with half-raised lids and continued in a low, steady voice that expressed no emotion. “Some horsebacks cut us off. We three were together. Kicking Bear pulled us close to him and yelled in our faces, ‘Do not get separated! Stay with me and we will die together!’ So we clung to him. It was a killing, but not a battle. It was like dreaming. Soon the wind was full of horsebacks floating and flying with the snow, and the cries of men were part of the roaring of the wind around us. We knew the others had come to help us, for some of them stumbled into us as we fought. A horse’s head and neck blew out of the flying snow in front of me. We were fighting with our knives. I slashed at the neck. The horse screamed and was gone. We did not look for enemies. We clung close together and struck at horsebacks appearing and blowing in the wind. I had my quirt hanging down my back under my shirt, the way Chagla told me to wear it always in battle. I remembered it and was strong, for it would protect me. But once there was a crowding of horsebacks around us, and I thought we were going to die. Then I remembered the eagle’s voice in my vision, ‘Hold fast, there is more. Hold fast, there is more.’ A horse reared, and Kicking Bear was holding it by the thong on its lower jaw. He was slashing at the throat. I leaped at the man. He struck but could not touch me. High Horse and I pulled him off, and he would not fight again. We did not stop to scalp him.
“It was like dreaming, and then it was like waking in the half-dark. We three were alone together and there were no horses in the wind. The day was going blind, and the snow howled and whirled. We had not seen Charging Cat.
“Kicking Bear pulled us close together and yelled in our faces, ‘Keep the left shoulder to the wind and cling to me.’ We knew that would set our faces towards home. So we clung together and walked with our left shoulders to the wind. Then it was black, and the darkness howled and was full of whips. We stumbled often. Once we fell over a creek bank into drifted snow. It was warmer there and the drift was soft. Kicking Bear would not let us stay. We could not start a fire, and if we did not walk we would die. We stumbled into some big rocks, and when we tried to climb over, there was a wall. So we went to the right. The wall broke the wind, but the drift was deep, and we wallowed in it until the wind struck us again, and we could keep it on the left shoulder. Afterwhile the dark was going. The day came howling, and it was blind with flying snow. We could not stop, and so we walked and walked with the wind upon our left.
“There was a creek hollow with brush in it, and some stray bison were standing there behind the brush with their heads down. We ran right into them and they did not move. They seemed asleep, and we killed three with arrows. It was easy to drive the arrows back of the forelegs, and we were hungry. While we butchered, the others moved away and disappeared in the flying snow. The hot blood froze on our fingers, but we got them skinned, and in the brush we made a shelter of the fresh hides before they were too stiff with the cold. We could light a fire in there, and when we had feasted on raw liver, Kicking Bear told us to sleep awhile and he would watch the fire. I was dreaming about Charging Cat when Kicking Bear ’wakened me. Then he slept, and afterwhile I ’wakened High Horse and slept again.
“When night was coming, we were all awake and very hungry. So we feasted. It was hard to cut the ribs apart before we broke them off. The frozen meat was like wood. While we roasted the ribs and ate, we talked about the others back yonder and how many would get home. Would Big Mouth get away? We wished him dead. But most we talked about Charging Cat. Was our prayer heard on the dark hill and our offering accepted? Were we not feasting, safe and warm? Would the power protect him too? Or would it pass him by because we did not take him with us to the dark hill? We wondered about this.
“Next day the wind was dead. The sun came pale between two cold fires. The air was like a knife.
“The next day after that we started home with all the meat we could carry through the snow. We blackened our faces against snow blindness with charred sticks from the fire.
“It was a long road, and the cold did not soften. When we came to our village on the Powder, Big Mouth and another were there. They were telling brave stories of the fight and were mourning for so many comrades dead. They told of horses taken in battle from the Shoshonis, and when the fight was over, they had ridden until the horses died. We did not speak to them, and people wondered. Maybe they did not fight at all. Maybe they caught loose horses straying yonder in the snow, while we were killing riders, and started home. They could have found our second camp back before the night. I do not know. It was a good place to camp.
“People waited for their sons and brothers, and some for their fathers. Two would come, and three, and four, with frozen feet and hands, and some snow-blind. There were no songs of victory and no feasts with brave stories. We were beaten and ashamed. People waited and waited, and when a moon had passed, there was mourning in some tepees. A
d when another moon had died, there was more mourning. He Crow did not come back, nor his four brothers. Only the youngest brother, Running Wolf, came back. The young grass appeared, and there were thirty who never came. We did not see Charging Cat again.”