Chapter Twenty-Five

Amazingly enough, the mountain over which they traversed was familiar to Carolyn. In the distance was a rock formation; over there were a few trees surrounding a green meadow. They were all known to her.

This was good. It had to mean that she and Lone Arrow were close to the cave.

Of course, there were other things that would indicate this, the most pronounced of them being that it was only the two of them traveling together. Earlier in the day, she and Lone Arrow had said their farewells to Big Elk and Pretty Moon.

Parting had been a difficult thing for both of the women. And only the knowledge that they would soon see one another again had allowed them to part.

Still, it had not been a completely sorrowful occasion, since their separation meant that Carolyn was that much closer to her destination.

She fidgeted uneasily, contemplating that thought. This was the end of the journey. And while this was a happy occasion, for it meant the beginning of a new life—for her, for her parents, for Lone Arrow—it came with caution.

How was she going to get the cross, which still remained in her pocket, into the cave? That is, how was she going to do it if she were to go to the cave blindfolded, as well as naked?

Perhaps she should ask Lone Arrow about that. So many things had changed between them. Maybe he had altered his way of thinking about that, too.

Should she ask? She should, of course. She was, however, more than a little leery of doing that.

But why not? If it were true that he trusted her, did that not also mean that he might allow her to go to the cave dressed as she was? Or, perhaps a more important question was, did she deserve that trust?

Despite Lone Arrow’s confession to her, she had not confided in him. The truth was, that she had almost forgotten the real reason she had begun this excursion. Sad, but true.

She had fallen in love on this journey, and that circumstance had outshone all else, even her worries about her parents’ affairs. But that did not mean that their plight was forgotten.

Not in the least.

Still, he had been honest with her. Should she be as open with him?

And what if she were honest and he decided to take the burden of the cross upon himself? He might try to do it. However, Carolyn was uncertain that Lone Arrow could make restitution for her.

Then why do it? They were almost there. Surely she could wait a few more hours before unleashing the burden of her soul.

It would be best; best then, if she simply kept the knowledge to herself. However, she had better discover his intent.

And so she called out, “Lone Arrow.”

He was leading his black and white-spotted Appaloosa, A-la-pee, behind him, up through the mountain trail. It was an entirely typical yet, at the same time, strange sight to witness. Strange, for master and pony seemed to move as one, together.

Carolyn knew that Lone Arrow showered affection upon this mare. A war pony, A-la-pee was never hobbled or tied far away from her master. Often painted, as though Lone Arrow anticipated battle at any time, A-la-pee seemed to wear those marks much like a badge.

Lone Arrow had once told Carolyn that the circle around A-la-pee’s eye granted her good vision; the hail marks on her behind were to empower her with the vigor of a hailstorm. And the eagle feather, braided into her tail, afforded her swiftness of foot.

Lone Arrow had also once confided that A-la-pee was probably his best friend. Observing them together, Carolyn could understand why.

“Lone Arrow,” she called again.

He paused, looking at her from over his shoulder.

And she began, “Might I ask you a question?”

He nodded.

And she said, “I wondered if you still intend to blindfold me when we go to the cave.”

“I must,” he said with a shrug. “It is a place that is sacred to our people, and I cannot let you see the way there.”

“But I have already been there; I saw it once before. What difference would it make now?”

“A great difference,” he explained. “When you were young, there was no other way to save you. I did what I had to do. But that does not mean that now, when I have the choice, I should not follow the teachings of my father. Except for my father and myself, as well as his fathers before him, you are the only other person who has gone to that cave. And so, you will go there blindfolded, I think.”

“Fair enough,” she said. “But will I also have to go there without any clothes?”

Lone Arrow did not answer at once. Instead, he began picking his way downhill.

And Carolyn waited, following his lead, guiding her own pony by its reins.

At last, they came to a grassy knoll, and Lone Arrow turned toward her. He said, “It would be worthwhile to see you naked, upon your pony, and for that reason alone I might make you do it.” These words were accompanied by a cheeky sort of grin.

In response, Carolyn felt herself grow warm.

“But,” he continued, “I must think on this last, for my mind is crowded on it. When I made this condition, there were reasons for it. Some of those reasons no longer exist. I will ponder it, and when I reach a decision, I will tell you.”

“All right,” said Carolyn, and having no other choice in the matter, at least not at this moment, she let the subject drop.

 

By that evening, Carolyn had reached her own conclusion. She was going to plant the cross upon Lone Arrow’s person. She simply had no choice.

He had still not given her his determination, and she could not wait a moment longer. Especially when there was every possibility that they would reach the cave on the morrow.

But where to put it? Where could she plant it, so that she would be assured that, even if she were naked, the cross would be carried into the cave? It would have to be a place out of view, so that Lone Arrow would not realize that he had the thing upon him.

She studied him. She could not very well tie it to his shirt. He would find it. Neither could she attach it to his robe.

Watching him from across their campfire, she tried to envision him as he might dress for this occasion. What did he always wear?

Moccasins, leggings, breechcloth, shirt and robe. Feathers, hair ornaments. Could she tie it to one of those—perhaps in back of his head?

No, when he went to sleep he removed these things. He might find it.

Then where? What else did he always have upon his person?

A knife, his bow, his lance, his quiver and bow case. His quiver?…

It was perfect. What could be simpler? She would not even have to worry about attaching it. She could simply drop it into the case.

It was wonderful.

Tonight, she would wait until he was asleep.

 

In the end, her worry had been for nothing. Lone Arrow had decided that he trusted her…she remained clothed.

It was good. It was an affirmation of his faith in her; yet she could not help but feel annoyed. All that wasted effort, and he had the cross, not she.

At present, she rode her pony, while Lone Arrow led it, plus his own mount.

And though the sun beat down its rays upon the top of her head, it was not enough to warm her. It did, however, serve to remind her that she and Lone Arrow were traveling in the light of day. While a seemingly mild observation, it was significant.

It meant that they must have entered into an area where Lone Arrow felt secure against the threat of a war party. Plus, due to the lack of shade, Carolyn was able to discern that they were traveling at a very high altitude, above the tree line. It was either that, or they were in a very large meadow.

Earlier this morning, before the sun had yet made its way into the sky, Lone Arrow had tied a piece of soft deerskin over her eyes. And though she had thought she might protest its presence upon her, he had left her hands entirely free.

In such a way, he had made it known to her that she was on her honor. And she swore she would not disappoint him.

Soon after covering her eyes, he had lifted her upon her pony, and they had left camp.

So far, the way had been uphill, stony and steep. That is, it must have been uphill if the movement and the position of the pony beneath her was any indication. Plus, she could feel her pony picking its way carefully.

She called out to Lone Arrow, “Are we almost there?”

“Soon,” he replied. “Soon.”

Carolyn bit her lip in consternation. She had been asking the same question throughout most of the morning, and had been receiving the same reply in return. Meanwhile, frigid, cold air kept blasting her, whisking her hair back from her face, and seeming to find its way into every pore of her skin.

Finally, Lone Arrow stopped. Carolyn waited.

She sensed that he had come to stand before her. Not because she had heard him move, and she certainly could not see him. No, it was more a matter of simply knowing he was there.

He said, reaching up to take the deerskin blindfold from her eyes, “I have brought you to a sacred place, that you might see it, and that I might pray. This I would do before we go to the cave.”

As soon as he removed the blindfold, she blinked her eyes rapidly, bringing up a hand to shield her sight from the bright rays of the sun. Where were they?

Gazing around her, she was awestruck, not only by the beauty of the place but by Lone Arrow’s words as well.

She asked, “This is a sacred place?”

“Éeh,” he nodded. “It is a very sacred place. My people call this place the Medicine Wheel.” Lone Arrow had turned to her pony, was taking out a small bag from his belongings.

And Carolyn watched. However, after a short time, she said, “I have been here before.”

That statement appeared to surprise him. “You have?”

“Yes,” she replied. “Eight and a half years ago. I stumbled upon these stones.”

“It-chik, good,” he said. “Did you pray?”

She shook her head. “I did not know this was a holy place.”

“Ho,” he said. “It is good that I have brought you here, then, for now you can pray.”

Carolyn nodded. But she wondered, should she tell him the rest of what had taken place here? Would he think her demented?

One deep breath for courage, and she said, “It is here that I discovered the whirlwind.”

For some reason this statement stopped Lone Arrow in his tracks.

Turning to her, he asked, “A whirlwind?”

“Yes,” she said. “It came to me after I had fallen over one of these stones. The odd thing was that the whirlwind acted like a living creature. In truth, it brought me to you.”

“To me?”

Carolyn nodded. “I had asked it to lead me to Fort C.F. Smith, and after several attempts at trying to get me to follow it, it brought me to you.”

For the space of a moment, Lone Arrow stared at her, his mouth open and disbelief clearly etched upon his face.

However, shrugging, and extending a hand out to her, he did no more than say, “Come, let me show you the wheel. There are legends connected with this place.”

“There are?”

He nodded. “Many. Would you like to hear them?”

Carolyn bobbed her head, and placing her hand into his, they took a few paces toward the stones.

“Here,” he said, indicating a place on the ground. “Sit here, next to me, and I will tell you my story.”

Carolyn sat.

“It is said,” Lone Arrow began, “by some of my people that this is the place where the san comes to visit and to camp. Some say that these stones are evidence of the sun’s camp. Others claim that the wheel was made by Burnt Face, a man of some legend amongst my people. But whether it is the sun or Burnt Face, many of my people come here to fast and to say prayers. It is here where a person can best commune with the One Above.”

As the wind whisked into her face, Carolyn felt a shudder, which could be part awe, part fear, run through her body. Trembling, she placed her hand within Lone Arrow’s own.

He continued, “Do you see that there is a large circle here?”

She nodded.

“And do you see that there are spokes, like those in a wheel, leading from the center to the outer circle?”

Again she nodded.

“Some say,” continued Lone Arrow, gesturing toward the circle, “that this was once a gigantic tepee that was built by Burnt Face. Now, as I said, Burnt Face is a legend amongst my people. He was a man who accomplished many great things, even though his face was scarred when he was a child, and he was made the object of some ridicule.

“Now, there are many,” he continued, “who tell of the eagle who took pity upon Burnt Face here, in this very spot. And do you know how it first appeared to him?”

Carolyn shook her head.

“It came to him first as a whirlwind.”

“A whirlwind? Here?”

Lone Arrow nodded. “There is more. Did you know that eight and one half years ago, as I lay upon a nearby mountain, I was having a vision of the whirlwind?”

Again Carolyn shook her head.

“It has been my helper all through my life,” he said.

“And it assisted me, too,” said Carolyn.

Once more, Lone Arrow treated her to a searching glance. He said, “And now I will tell you another story. One that you may have wondered about…the story of the cave.”

“The cave?”

He nodded. “Have you not puzzled over the riches that you saw there? Where did they come from? Who put them there and why?”

“Yes,” said Carolyn, “but I was afraid to ask.”

“As you should be. Now,” he said, “this is the story that was told to me by my father, and his father before him, as was passed down from grandfather to grandfather. It is a story that is sacred to my family, and it is one that is repeated save only to those who are to become the protector of the cave.”

“And you are telling me?”

He nodded. “I have reason,” he said, “to believe that this is the right thing to do.”

Carolyn gulped.

“Long ago,” Lone Arrow began, “before the world was as we know it, there lived a different people here upon this earth. Some were giants. Some were little people, no taller than my knee. The little people still live here, in caves and in the underground. Sometimes you can see them in the mountain range that the white man calls the Pryor Mountains.

“Now, these people, though small, are yet very strong. They have been seen carrying a full-grown antelope upon their backs.”

“Huh.”

“Éeh, but I leave my story. The little people and the giants went often to war. You have seen the evidence of this in their stone arrowheads which can still be found upon this land. Now, while the little people lived in caves, the giants built strong forts. Here they kept many beautiful things that they made from gold. But gold is not always an easy thing to find, and in order to obtain the gold they needed, the giants disturbed the dwellings of the little people.

“Thus,” he went on to say, “the giants and the little people went to war. Now, in this war, the giants, though a larger people, kept losing. One day, they knew that all they had would be lost. In an effort to save their kingdom, they gathered their things together and hid them in the cave, which you saw eight and a half years ago.”

“Then the gold belongs to the giants?”

He nodded. “As they predicted,” continued Lone Arrow with the story, “the little people overwhelmed the giants and killed them to a man. And so great was the loss, that you do not see nor find the remains of these giants, even to this day.

“Now as the legend goes, before the last giant was killed, as revenge to the little people, he placed a curse over the treasure, so that misfortune would befall anyone who dared to take something that was not his own. And so it is that many times have the little people found that cave; many times have they taken something; many is also the time they have suffered for doing it.”

As she had, thought Carolyn.

“But there was someone else here, though not of physical form. Someone else who watched what was happening. Someone who guarded the mountain and all within it, be they little people or large. My people call him the mountain god. And this being, seeing his children suffer, called upon my people to help.

“Now, the message went out throughout the land,” Lone Arrow continued. “There would be tests. Tests of skill, tests of honor and of endurance. The god of the mountain called upon all the valiant warriors of my tribe to participate in these trials. Many took part, but in the end, only one was chosen to become the protector of the treasure and of the sacred mountain. That person was my ancestor. And so it began. It has never stopped. The responsibility for the cave and for the mountain has been handed down father to son in every generation. It is now mine to assume.”

He paused, and Carolyn sat in silence, not knowing what to say, what to do.

“There is more,” he said. “The spiritual helper for all those in my family who are chosen is always the whirlwind. As it has been my father’s helper, it is now mine…and yours…”

“Mine?”

He nodded. “It is perhaps fitting, for I have always felt a special connection to you. Even before we were married, before you returned to this, your home, you were a part of me. And now, it is clear to me why this has been.”

And Carolyn, gazing up at him, asked, “Why?”

“Do you truly not know?”

Although she suspected what was to come, she shook her head.

And he explained, “You are as much a protector of that cave as I am. It is now your responsibility, too. You share it with me. Come,” said Lone Arrow, taking her hand in his. “My people journey here to pray. Before we go to the cave, let us say our prayers.”

Coming up onto his feet, Lone Arrow looked upon her with open admiration. After a few moments, he reached out a hand toward her, where he twirled his fingers into her chestnut-colored curls. He said, “You are so beautiful. It is a good thing that I have brought you here, for it has caused us to become even closer. We will pray, each in our own way, I think.”

Carolyn nodded and bowed her head, while Lone Arrow produced the bag he had taken from the horse. In it was an herb.

She asked, “What is that?”

Lone Arrow looked at his hand. “This is a plant the white man calls sage. I am offering it to the four directions, to the four winds and to the One Above.”

Carolyn nodded, and quietly, with the wind whipping around them, they prayed, and as Lone Arrow had suggested, each in their own way.