The feast given in honor of their medicine was celebrated the next day,
and Cloudy Sky was thus relieved of the necessity of wearing mourning
for his enemy.
His face was carefully washed of the black paint that disfigured it; his
hair, plentifully greased, was braided and ornamented. His leggins were
new, and his white blanket was marked according to Indian custom. On it
was painted a black hand, that all might know that he had killed his
enemy. But for all he did not look either young or handsome, and
Harpstenah's young friends were astonished that she witnessed the
preparations for her marriage with so much indifference.
But she was unconscious alike of their sympathy and ridicule; her soul
was occupied with the reflection that upon her energy depended her
future fate. Never did her spirit shrink from its appointed task. Nor
was she entirely governed by selfish motives; she believed herself an
instrument in the hand of the gods.
Mechanically she performed her ordinary duties. The wood was cut and the
evening meal was, cooked; afterwards she cut down branches of trees, and
swept the wigwam. In the evening, the villagers had assembled on the
shores of the lake to enjoy the cool air after the heat of the day.
Hours passed away as gossipping and amusement engaged them all. At
length they entered their teepees to seek rest, and Harpstenah and her
mother were the last at the door of their teepee, where a group had been
seated on the ground, discussing their own and others' affairs. "No harm
can come to you, my daughter, when you are the wife of so great a
medicine man. If any one hate you and wish to do you an injury, Cloudy
Sky will destroy their power. Has he not lived with the Thunder Birds,
did he not learn from them to cure the sick, and to destroy his enemies?
He is a great warrior too."
"I know it, my mother," replied the girl, "but we have sat long in the
moonlight, the wind that stirred the waters of the spirit lake is gone.
I must sleep, that I may be ready to dress myself when you call me. My
hair must be braided in many braids, and the strings are not yet sewed
to my mocassins. You too are tired; let us go in and sleep."
Sleep came to the mother--to the daughter courage and energy. Not in
vain had she prayed to Haokah the Giant, to give her power to perform a
great deed. Assured that her parents were sleeping heavily, she rose and
sought the lodge of the medicine man.
When she reached the teepee, she stopped involuntarily before the door,
near which hung, on a pole, the medicine bag of the old man. The
medicine known only to the clan had been preserved for ages. Sacred had
it ever been from the touch of woman. It was placed there to guard the
medicine man from evil, and to bring punishment on those who sought to
do him harm. Harpstenah's strength failed her. What was she about to do?
Could she provoke with impunity the anger of the spirits of the dead?
Would not the Great Spirit bring terrible vengeance upon her head. Ready
to sink to the earth with terror, the words of the fairy of the waters
reassured her. "Can a Dahcotah woman want courage when she is to be
forced to marry a man she hates?"
The tumult within is stilled--the strong beating of her heart has
ceased--her hand is upon the handle of her knife, as the moonlight falls
upon its glittering blade.
Too glorious a night for so dark a deed! See! they are confronted, the
old man and the maiden! The tyrant and his victim; the slave dealer and
the noble soul he had trafficked for!
Pale, but firm with high resolve, the girl looked for one moment at the
man she had feared--whose looks had checked her childish mirth, whose
anger she had been taught to dread, even to the sacrificing of her
heart's best hopes.
Restlessly the old man slept; perchance he saw the piercing eyes that
were, fixed upon him, for he muttered of the road to the land of
spirits. Listen to him, as he boasts of the warrior's work.
"Many brave men have made this road. The friend of the Thunder Birds was
worthy. Strike the woman who would dare assist a warrior. Strike--"
"Deep in his heart she plunged the ready steel," and she drew it out,
the life blood came quickly. She alone heard his dying groan.
She left the teepee--her work was done. It was easy to wash the stains
on her knife in the waters of the lake.
When her mother arose, she looked at the pale countenance of her
daughter. In vain she sought to understand her muttered words.
Harpstenah, as she tried to sleep, fancied she heard the wild laugh of
the water spirits. Clouds had obscured the moon, and distant thunder
rolled along the sky; and, roused by the clamorous grief of the many
women assembled in the lodge, she heard from them of the dark tragedy in
which she had been the principal actor.
The murderer was not to be found. Red Deer was known to be far away. It
only remained to bury Cloudy Sky, with all the honors due to a
medicine man.
Harpstenah joined in the weeping of the mourners--the fountains of a
Sioux woman's tears are easily unlocked. She threw her blanket upon the
dead body.
Many were the rich presents made to the inanimate clay which yesterday
influenced those who still trembled lest the spirit of the dead
war-chief would haunt them. The richest cloth enrobed his body, and, a
short distance from the village, he was placed upon a scaffold.
Food was placed beside him; it would be long before his soul would reach
the city of spirits; his strength would fail him, were it not for the
refreshment of the tender flesh of the wild deer he had loved to chase,
and the cooling waters he had drank on earth, for many, many winters.
But after the death of Cloudy Sky, the heart of Harpstenah grew light.
She joined again in the ball plays on the prairies. It needed no
vermilion on her cheek to show the brightness of her eye, for the flush
of hope and happiness was there.
The dark deed was forgotten; and when, in the time that the leaves began
to fall, they prepared the wild rice for winter's use, Red Deer was
at her side.
He was a good hunter, and the parents were old. Red Deer ever kept them
supplied with game--and winter found her a wife, and a happy one too;
for Red Deer loved her in very truth--and the secret of the death of the
medicine man was buried in their hearts.