Willow Creek. The little creature was fed, and played about her mother,
grazing in the quiet valley, where none might see the cradle of their
future queen.
At the next mid-day, Hinpoha saw many of the bison people fleeing by her
secret camp. She at once suspected the neighborhood of the Red hunters.
"I shall go away, so that they will not find my teepee and my baby," she
said to herself. Accordingly she came out and followed the trail of the
fugitives in order to deceive the wild man, but at night she returned to
her nursery.
Upon the Shaeyela River, below the camp of the buffalo people, the wild
Red men were likewise encamped in great numbers. Spring was here at
last, and nearly all of the snow had gone, even from the gulches and
deep ravines.
A joyous hunting song pealed forth loudly from the council-lodge of the
Two Kettle band. The great drum beat a prelude to the announcement
heralded throughout the camp.
"Hear ye, hear ye, warriors! The game scout has come back with the news
that the south fork of the Shaeyela is full of the buffalo people. It is
the will of the council that the young men should now make the great
spring hunt of the bison. Fill your quivers with good arrows. Try your
bows. Heya, heya, ha-a-a-a!" Thus the herald circled the large
encampment.
"Woo! woo!" came from the council-lodge--a soldier-call, for the young
men to saddle up. At the same time, the familiar drum-beat was again
heard. The old men, the council men, were now left alone to perform
those ceremonies which were held to insure good hunting.
The long-stemmed pipe was reverently lifted from the sacred ground which
is its resting-place. The chief medicine-man, old Buffalo Ghost, took it
in his sinewy hands, with the mouth-piece foremost. He held it toward
heaven, then to the earth, and gave the "spirit talk." Having ended, he
lighted and passed it around the circle from left to right. Again one
struck the drum and sang in a high minor key. All joined in the refrain,
and two got up and danced around the fire. This is done to call the
spirits of the bison, and charm them into a happy departure for the
spirit land.
Meantime, the young warriors had mounted their trained buffalo-ponies,
and with a great crowd on foot were moving up the valley of the
Shaeyela. From every divide they surveyed the country ahead, hoping to
find the buffalo in great numbers and to take them unawares. The chief
hunter ascended a hill in advance of the others. "Woo!" he called, and
waved his right hand with the assurance of a successful hunt.
The warriors prepared for the charge just as they would prepare for an
attack upon the enemy. All preliminary orders were given. The men were
lined out on three sides, driving the herd toward the river. When the
signal was given, ponies and men sped forward with loosened hair and
flying lariat. The buffalo were compelled to run toward the river, but
some refused to run, while many more broke through the attacking lines
and fled across the Shaeyela and into the woods. There were some who
stood their ground and formed an outward-facing circle around the low
little buffalo-berry-hung grave. To this group many Red hunters came
yelling and singing.
"Hanta, hanta yo!" the leader cautioned, vainly. The first man who
ventured near the menacing circle was instantly tossed upon the horns
of an immense bull. He lay motionless where he fell.
Now the angry bison were left alone for the time, while the hunters
withdrew to a near-by hill for consultation. The signal of distress had
been given, and soon the ridges were black with riders. The unfortunate
hunter and his horse lay dead upon the plain!
"It is not the custom of the buffalo people to fight thus. They have
been known to form a ring to defend themselves against wolves, but
against man--never!" declared the game leader. "It is a sign of which we
ought to discover the meaning."
"You have heard their lowing," remarked another. "It is their habit to
mourn thus when they discover one of their number lying dead."
Suddenly the buffalo women started away in single file, the bulls
following; and walking slowly, without molestation from any, they all
disappeared in the direction taken by the fleeing herd. The hunters now
eagerly advanced to the spot where lay dead the white bison cow, the
queen of the buffalo people. The strange action of her followers was
explained. Every warrior approached the place as if treading upon
hallowed ground. They tied or hobbled their ponies at some distance, and
all came with tobacco or arrows in their hands. They reverently
addressed the dead cow and placed the tobacco gently around her for an
offering. Thus strangely ended the first spring hunt of that year upon
the Shaeyela, the ancient home of the buffalo people, where always the
buffalo woman chief, the white cow, is seen--the most sacred and honored
animal among the Sioux!
* * * * *
The grass of the Bad Lands region was now spread in fresh green, all
beaded and porcupined with the early crocuses. The young queen was well
grown for her age, and could run as well as her mother for a mile or
two. Along Willow Creek she had been made to try her speed many times
daily.
"Come," she signed to her, one bright May day, and they both set out for
the forks of the Shaeyela, where once more the buffalo people were
assembled by thousands. Many of the mothers had already taken their
children back to the herd. As Hinpoha passed the lone bulls who are
wont to wander away from the rest for undisturbed feeding, they all
turned to gaze at her and her strange daughter. Each gave her sonorous
greeting, and some even followed after at a distance in wonder and
admiration.
When they reached a small group of buffalo women, there was much
commotion. One of the other mothers came forward to challenge Hinpoha to
a friendly contest, while the rest formed a ring around them, evidently
admiring the little calf. The black eyes and hoofs setting off her
creamy whiteness gave her a singularly picturesque appearance.
After the friendly tussle, the mother and daughter continued on their
journey to the forks of the Shaeyela. As they passed more and more of
their people, the "Moo" was given continuously, announcing the coming of
the new queen of the tribe. When they arrived at the place of meeting,
the excitement was great. Everywhere buffalo people were running toward
them to greet them with the "Moo!" The little folks ran up full of
curiosity, turned large eyes and ears on the stranger, and then fled
away with uplifted tail. The big, shaggy-haired old men came, too, and
regarded her gravely. Hinpoha was proud of her conspicuous position; yet
it was a trying reception, for every kind female caller felt obliged to
offer her a friendly trial of strength. At such times the little calf
watched her mother with excited interest.
The day was warm, the air soft and summer-like. Whenever there is a
great gathering of the bison, there are many contests and dances. So it
was on this occasion. It was their festival time, and the rumble of
their voices was heard by the other tribes of the prairie a great way
off.
* * * * *
Again the herald's song pealed forth upon the sunshiny stillness of a
May morning. Every ear was turned to catch the expected announcement of
the wise men.
"Ye soldier hunters," was the summons, "come home to the teyoteepee!"
Many of the warriors, wrapped in their robes, walked slowly toward the
council-lodge in the middle of the Indian encampment.
"Hear ye, men and warriors!" exclaimed the chief of the teyoteepee,
when all were met together. "Our game scout has returned with the word
that upon the forks of the Shaeyela the buffalo people are holding their
summer gathering. Furthermore, he says that he saw a young buffalo chief
woman--a white calf! In the morning all the hunters are commanded to
make an attack upon the herd. If it be possible, we shall capture the
little queen.
"Hear ye, hear ye! We shall dance the great buffalo-dance to-night! The
Great Mystery is good to us. Few men are so favored as to see the queen
of the buffalo people even once in a lifetime.
"Eyuha nahon po!" he continued, "hearken to the legend that is told by
the old men. The buffalo chief woman is the noblest of all animals--the
most beloved of her people. Where she is, there is the greatest
gathering of her tribe--there is plenty for the Indian! They who see her
shall be fortunate in hunting and in war. If she be captured, the people
who take her need never go hungry. When the bison is scarce, the
exhibition of her robe in the buffalo-dance will bring back many to the
neighborhood!
"To-morrow we will make a great hunt. Be strong of heart, for her people
will not flee, as is their wont, but will fight for her!"
"Ho, ho! hi, hi!" replied all the warriors.
The buffalo were now holding their summer feasts and dances upon the
Shaeyela River--the tricky Shaeyela, who, like her sister, the Big
Muddy, tears up her banks madly every spring freshet, thus changing her
bed continually. The little hills define it abruptly, and the tributary
creeks are indicated by a few dwarf pines and cedars, peeping forth like
bears from the gulches. Upon the horizon the Bad Lands stand out in bold
relief, their ruined pyramids and columns bespeaking the power of the
Great Mystery.
Here at the forks the poplar-trees and buffalo-berry-bushes glistened in
fresh foliage, and the deep-yellow flowers of the wild bull-currant
exhaled their musky odor. There was a wide, green plain for the buffalo
people to summer in, and many had come to see their baby queen, for the
white bison was always found in the midst of the greatest gathering of
her people. No chief buffalo woman was ever seen with a little band.
The morning was good; the sun wore a broad smile, and his children upon
the Shaeyela River, both bison and wild Red men, were happy in their own
fashion. The little fires were sportively burning outside of each
teepee, where the morning meal had been prepared. It had been decreed by
the council that the warriors should paint, after the custom of warfare,
when they attacked the buffalo chief woman and her people upon the forks
of the Shaeyela.
Upon the slope of a long ridge the hunters gathered. Their dusky faces
and naked bodies were extravagantly painted; their locks fantastically
dressed; even the ponies were decorated. Upon the green plain below the
bison were quietly grazing, and in the very centre of the host the
little queen frisked about her mother. It was fully four arrow-flights
distant from the outer edge of the throng, and sentinel bulls were
posted still farther out, in precaution for her safety.
The Indians overlooking the immense herd had already pointed out the
white calf in awe-struck whispers. To them she looked like an
earth-visiting spirit in her mysterious whiteness. There were several
thousand pairs of horns against their few hundred warriors, yet they
knew that if they should succeed in capturing this treasure, the story
would be told of them for generations to come. It was sufficient honor
for the risk of a brave man's life.
"Hukahay! hukahay!" came the signal. Down the slope they sped to the
attack with all the spirit and intrepidity of the gray wolf. "Woo! woo!"
came from every throat in a hoarse shout. The earth under their ponies'
feet fairly trembled.
The buffalo bull sentinels instantly gave the alarm and started back in
the direction of the main body. A cloud of dust arose toward the sun as
the mighty gathering was set in motion. Deadly arrows flew like winged
things, and the beating of thousands of hoofs made a noise like thunder.
Yet the buffalo people would not break the circle around the white calf,
and for many minutes no Red man could penetrate it.
At last old Zuya, a warrior of note, came swiftly to the front upon his
war-steed. He held high above his head a blazing torch, and the
panic-stricken bison fled before him in every direction. Close behind
him came Zuya's young son, Unspeshnee, with a long lariat coiled in his
hand, and the two followed hard upon the fleeing buffalo people.
"Wa-wa-wa-wa!" came forth from hundreds of throats, like the rolling of
many stones upon new ice. "Unspeshnee! Unspeshnee has lassoed the
buffalo chief woman!"
* * * * *
Amid a great gathering of curious people stood the white calf, wailing
continually, and a solemn rejoicing pervaded the camp of the Red
hunters. Already the ceremonies were in progress to celebrate this
event.
"It is the will of the Great Mystery," said they, "to recall the spirit
of the white chief. We shall preserve her robe, the token of plenty and
good-fortune! We shall never be hungry henceforth for the flesh of her
nation. This robe shall be handed down from generation to generation,
and wherever it is found there shall be abundance of meat for the
Indian."
The Sky Warrior
The all-night rain had ceased, and daylight appeared once more over the
eastern buttes. Hooyah looked about her, anxiously scanning the gray
dusk of morning for a glimpse of her mate, the while she spread her long
pinions over three rollicking and mischievous youngsters as any eagle
woman ever brooded. Her piercing gaze was directed oftenest toward the
lone pine--his favorite sleeping-tree. Surely it was time for him to
call her out on the usual morning hunt.
The Eagle's Nest butte was well known to the wild hunters of that
region, since it could be seen from a great distance and by many
approaches. Its overhanging sides were all but inaccessible, and from
the level summit could be discerned all the landmarks of the Bad Lands
in a circuit of seventy-five miles. The course of the Makezeta, the
Smoking Earth River, lay unrolled like a map beneath that eyrie. Hither
the bighorn, the grizzly, and others of the animal tribes had from time
to time betaken themselves, some seeking a night's refuge and others a
permanent dwelling-place. For many years, however, it had been well
understood that this was the chosen home of Wambelee, the eagle, whom it
is not well to molest.
Doubtless there have been tragedies enacted upon this imposing summit.
There is even a tradition among the wild Red men that the supremacy upon
old Eagle's Nest has cost many lives, and for this reason it is held to
be a mysterious and hallowed place. Certainly the tribes of Wild Land
had cause to desire and even to fight for its possession.
Suddenly there came to Hooyah's ears the whirring sound that announced
the near approach of her master. In the wink of an eye he was at her
side.
"Quick, quick! We must be off! I have found a doe with two small fawns.
I could have taken one fawn, but we shall have more meat if you are
there to take the other," he signalled to her.
Hooyah simply stepped aside and stretched herself thoroughly, as if to
say, "Go, and I will follow."
Wambelee arose clumsily at the start, but as he gained in speed and
balance he floated away in mid-air like a mystic cloud. Hooyah followed
within hailing distance, and they kept the same relative positions until
they reached Fishtail Gulch. It is well known to the Red hunters that
such is the custom of the bear, coyote, eagle, raven and gray wolf,
except when they travel in bands. The rule is a good one, since the
sought-for prey is less likely to take alarm when only one hunter is in
sight, and then, in case of flight, the second pursuer, who is
invisible, may have a better chance to make the capture, especially
should the fleeing one double on his track. He is certain to be
bewildered and disheartened by the sudden, unexpected reinforcement of
the foe.
Wambelee swung up on one of the adjacent buttes to spy out possible
danger, while his mate was balancing herself away up in the ether, just
over the black-tail mother with her twin fawns. Suddenly he arose in a
long spiral and ascended to the height of Hooyah, and there the two
plotted their assault upon the innocents, at the same time viewing the
secret movements of every other hunter.
It is the accepted usage of Wild Land that no one may wisely leave his
tracks uncovered while he himself is on the trail of another, for many
have been seized while enjoying the prize. Even the lordly eagle has
been caught by the wolf, the wild-cat, or by the wild man while
feasting, and in his gluttony has become an easy prey to the least of
hunters. Therefore it behooved Wambelee to be watchful and very
cautious.
* * * * *
"Ho, Opagela, koowah yay yo-o-o!" This was the call of Matoska, a famous
hunter of the Sioux, at the door of his friend's lodge in the camp on
the Smoking Earth River. "Come out, friend; it is almost day and my
dream has been good. The game is plentiful; but you will need to be on
your guard, for the tracks of the grizzly hereabout are as many as I
have ever seen the Ojibway trails."
"Hun, hun, hay!" exclaimed the other, good-humoredly, as he pushed
aside the triangular door-flap and appeared wrapped in his blanket. "It
is always thus. When the hunting is poor, you will not be disturbed, but
when you are in a region of much game, all other hunters are there as
well! It is true that they are usually agreeable except two only--Mato,
the grizzly, and man himself. These two are always looking for trouble!"
Opagela was likewise noted for his skill in hunting, and especially for
the number of eagles that he had caught. This good-fortune had gained
him many ponies, for eagles' feathers are always in demand. Few men so
well understand the secrets of this bird. His friend was doubtless
expert in wood-craft, but in this particular he could not claim to be
the equal of Opagela.
"Come, let us hasten! We must be off before any other wild hunter can
gain the advantage. We shall appear foolish to them if we are seen
running about in full view," Matoska continued, as he adjusted the
thongs of his moccasins.
Both men soon disappeared in the gray mists of the morning. They ran
noiselessly side by side, scarcely uttering a word, up and along the
bluffs of the Smoking Earth River. They could see the white vapor or
breath of the bison hanging in the air at a distance, and black masses
of the animals were visible here and there upon the plains. But they did
not turn aside, for they were in search of other game. The Eagle's Nest
butte loomed up to their right, its bare walls towering grandly above
the surrounding country, and the big timber lay hidden below in the fog
that still clung about the river.
"Ho!" Opagela exclaimed, presently, to his companion, in an undertone.
"There is a hunter from above descending."
Both stood still in their tracks like petrified men. "Whir-r-r!" came
like the sound of a coming shower.
"Ugh, it is he!" Opagela said again, in a whisper, and made a motion
with his lips.
As the great bird, the giant hunter of the air, swooped down into the
gulch, a doe fled forth from it and ran swiftly over the little divide.
There was bawling and the sound of struggle just over the banks of the
creek, where the eagle had disappeared.
"Run, friend, run! Let us see him use his knife upon the fawn," urged
Matoska, and he started over the knoll at a good gait. The other
followed as if reluctantly.
The little gulch was a natural enclosure formed by a sudden turn of the
creek, and fenced with a thorny thicket of wild plum and buffalo-berry
bushes. Here they saw Wambelee in the open, firmly fastened upon the
back of a struggling fawn. Hooyah had missed her quarry, which took
refuge in the plum grove.
"Shoot! shoot!" whispered Matoska, at the same time drawing forth an
arrow.
"No, no; I recognize friends. This is the old pair who have dwelt for
many years upon the Eagle's Nest butte." There was a serious expression
upon the hunter's face as he spoke.
At this moment the eagle turned toward them. From his neck hung a single
bear's claw, fastened by a leather thong.
"Yes, it is he. Long ago he saved my life, and we are friends. I shall
tell you about it," Opagela said at last, and the two friends sat down
side by side at the edge of the plum-bushes.
"Many winters ago," began Opagela, "I was shot through the knee in a
battle with the Utes, a little west of the Black Hills. My friends
carried me with them as far as the creek which is now called the Wounded
Knee, and there we were overtaken by a Crow war-party. Our party had a
running fight with them and were compelled to retreat in haste. I begged
my friends to leave me on the trail, for I preferred to die fighting
rather than from the effects of my wound. They did so, but before they
reached me the Crow warriors withdrew.
"There I lay without food or water for four days. I was all skin and
bones. My thoughts were already in the spirit land, and I seemed to see
about me my relatives who had died.
"One morning my mind was clear, and once more I realized my
surroundings. I had crawled into the shade of a little grove of
plum-bushes. I gazed out upon the lofty buttes and the plains between
where we had so often camped in happiness and plenty. It seemed hard to
starve in the midst of such abundance.
"A few paces away I saw a doe with two fawns. They were fat and
tempting, but I had no strength to shoot. Then I felt that I was doomed
to die, and, indeed, believed that I was already half spirit and could
talk with spirits. I held out my hand to the Great Mystery and said:
"Is this the end? Then, Great Father, I am resigned. Let none disturb
me, for I would die in peace.
"At this moment the doe snorted and sprang directly over me. Alas! one
of her little ones was caught before it could plunge into the thicket.
It was seized by an immense eagle.
"The pretty little creature screamed and bawled like a baby, and my
heart was with her in her death-pangs, although I was perishing for
meat. I lay quite still and breathed softly. I slyly closed my eyes when
the eagle seemed about to look in my direction. He appeared to be a very
warlike, full-grown bird, with splendid plumage.
"He dressed his meat a few paces from me. I could smell the rich odor of
the savory venison, and it made me desperate. I wanted to live now. But
it was his game. I was a wounded, helpless, dying man--he a strong,
warlike hunter. I could only beg a piece of his meat, but it was not
the time for me to do so until he had eaten his fill.
"The zest with which he partook of his meal made me chew while he tore
off pieces of the meat, and swallow whenever he swallowed a savory
morsel. At last I could not endure it any longer.
"'Ho, kola!' I said, feebly.
"The sky warrior lifted his noble head with the mien of a great chief.
At first he did not discover where the voice came from, but,
nevertheless, he made a show of indignation and surprise.
"Again I said, almost in a whisper, 'Ho, kola, it is time you should
cheer a dying warrior's heart.'
"He saw me. 'Hush-h-h!' he sighed, and released his great talons from
the body of the fawn.
"My mind was clear now, and the sight of meat seemed to give me
strength. I took my long knife in one hand and my war-club in the other,
and I rose and hopped towards him. He tried to fly, but could not. This
is his greatest weakness--that when he kills big game he surfeits
himself and is sometimes unable to fly for half a day or longer. As the
eagle is not a good walker, he could not get away from me. All his
dignity disappeared. Helpless as a woman, he lay before me with
outstretched wings.
"I had no wish to harm him who had preserved my life. I lassoed him with
my lariat and fastened him to a plum-tree while I ate of the meat. It
was tender and luscious, and my strength returned to me even as I ate.
"I could not walk, so Wambelee and I camped together, for I did not care
to be alone. Little by little we became friends. On the second day his
wife came in search of him. When she found him a captive she scolded
violently, perhaps him alone, perhaps me, or both of us.
"The next time she came prepared to make war upon me in order to release
her husband. She appeared high up, floating among the clouds; then
suddenly gave a scream, woman-like, and shot down with all the
fierceness of a warrior, coming directly toward me.
"I was getting strong now, and I shook my bow over my head at her. Then
she swung upward within a few bows' length, so that I could feel the
wind of her attack.
"After she had done this several times, she perched upon a near-by
butte and watched. She did everything in her power to make her captive
husband's heart strong. Now and then she would sail slowly over our
heads, coaxing, scolding, and apparently having a loving, conjugal talk
with him.