through the flap, the girl awoke and looked around. The first thing she
saw was that terrible animal sleeping there beside her bed. And that
was when the big noise began and High Horse started running.
“I was lying there in the brush now listening, and afterwhile the big
noise stopped and I could hear tepee poles coming down. The people were
moving camp because of the bad spirit in that place; and when I had
waited some more, there was no sound to hear at all, and I knew the
people were all gone. So I went to High Horse; and when he came out
of his tree he looked so sick and sad and terrible all at once that I
had to laugh. Anyway, they had not caught us, and that was good. But
High Horse did not laugh any; he just groaned. So I quit laughing,
and said, ‘Have a strong heart, brother-friend, and when I have washed
the mud off, I will think up a better plan.’ So we went into the water
and I washed him. And when he was dressed, he said, ‘I know now I
can never have Good Plume, so I shall have to die. I will go on the
war-path alone, and somebody will kill me.’ And I said, ‘I am your
brother-friend and you will not go to war alone, because I am going
with you. We shall see if the old man laughs when we get back with a
hundred ponies and I do not know how many scalps.’”
XII
_The Mysterious Mother-Power_
When Eagle Voice had ceased chuckling, the look of boyish merriment
left his face, and for some time he sat motionless with closed eyes
and bowed head, his hands upon his knees. He seemed very far away, as
though the drifted wastes of many winters stretched between us. When I
had fed the stove again, I said, only meaning to arouse him: “And did
you get the hundred ponies and the scalps, and did High Horse get the
girl at last?”
He lifted his head, gazing through me and beyond. Then the far look
shortened slowly, and he smiled. “It is a story, Grandson,” he said,
“and you are in a hurry again, Wasichu that you are. There is a road,
and what you ask is yonder. We are going on the war-path.”
“‘But before we go, Grandfather,’ I said, ‘tell me why Lakotas sold
their women. Wasichus sell their horses, but their women they give
away. Was a Lakota woman only an animal that a man should buy her?’
“Your heart is Lakota, Grandson,” the old man answered, smiling
indulgently as upon a child, “but you ask a foolish question like a
Wasichu. In the old days we did not buy and sell the way Wasichus do.
We stole our horses from our enemies, daring much, for we were brave
men. If we gave them to a father and asked him for his daughter, who
should have a woman but a brave man good for something?
“Before the sacred hoop was broken it was made of men and women, and
from each there was a power that kept it strong. I think, before we go
to war, I will tell you an _ohunka_ story about the power of women.
Old people used to tell it in the night; and their grandchildren after
them, grown old themselves; and their grandchildren too, and theirs,
and theirs, the story is so old. Now all of those are gone and many
more, and I will tell it, being old myself. Old people used to say that
if _ohunka_ stories were told by daylight, something bad would happen
to the teller. Maybe he would get sick and die, or his grandson would
be killed, or his old woman would fall and break her hip. And I have
even heard them say--” Here the old man paused to chuckle. “I have even
heard them say he might grow long curly hair all over his backside; but
maybe they were joking. Sometimes if somebody who wanted to hear made
a gift, an _ohunka_ story could be told on a dark day. You have made a
gift, Grandson, and the day is dark, so I can tell it; and this is the
story about the power of women.
“Many snows ago there were two young Lakota warriors. One was named
Good Voice Hawk, and he was a very good-looking fellow. The other was
called Brave Eagle, and he was not good-looking at all.
“There was a girl, too, and she was very beautiful. Also her father
was a _wichasha yatapika_ [a man they praise], because he had counted
many coups, had given much meat to the old people, and nobody could
say anything but good of him. Of such men chieftains were made. The
girl’s name was Red Hail, which is a sacred name; for hail and rain and
lightning come together with the power to make live and to destroy; and
red is a holy color.
“The people had camped in a pleasant place with plenty of wood, water,
and grass; and the councilors had announced that it was a good time for
war parties to go forth.
“Now these two young men had been talking to the girl whenever either
could find her alone, for both wanted her very much. Good Voice Hawk,
the handsome one, would talk much about himself and say little evil
things about Brave Eagle; but Brave Eagle, the homely one, would just
look at the girl for the most part, making few words and saying nothing
bad about anybody.
“A big war party was about to set forth the next day, and the two young
men would be going with it. Maybe Red Hail liked them both and could
not choose between them. Anyway, that evening when it was dark, she
stole up to the big tepee where Good Voice Hawk lived, and peeked in
through a little hole. Everything was fine in there. The young man was
sitting on his braided rawhide bed, and his mother, sitting on his left
side, was gently combing his long hair and preparing it for braiding.
On his right side sat the father, busy making new wraps on arrowheads
for his son. A younger brother was at the fireplace in the center,
keeping a bright flame alive so that there might be plenty of light.
And while Red Hail watched, the younger sister of Good Voice Hawk came
with a bowl of _wasna_ and held it in front of her handsome brother, so
that he might eat and enjoy himself before he went to war.
“Then Red Hail stole away in the darkness to a much smaller tepee where
the other young man lived, and peeped in through the side of the flap.
She saw nothing fine in there. Brave Eagle was sitting by the fire and
he was busy wrapping arrows. The mother was sitting on her side of the
tepee, the father on his, and the little brother was watching the young
warrior. That was all she saw.
“Then Red Hail stole back to her own tepee, and what she thought the
story does not tell.
“In the morning the war party started, passing the tepee of the girl,
who stood there watching. Among the first came Good Voice Hawk, and
surely he was very handsome on his fine horse that danced about as he
paused to smile at Red Hail and let her see how handsome he was. And as
he went, he often turned to look back at her again, until he passed out
of sight over a hill. Last of all came Brave Eagle riding a mule, and
he did not look at Red Hail at all, but just rode on and out of sight.
Maybe there were no mules in the old days, but stories change like
people, and this is how it came to me.
“When Red Hail’s father came back, the girl was crying, and she said,
‘Father, I want to be where the boys are. I want to go wherever they
go.’ The father knew how it was with the girl, and after he had thought
awhile he said, ‘My daughter, we will go together.’
“So when he had caught two good horses and everything was ready, they
started after the party; and when they overtook it, camp was being made
for the night.
“Now as the war party moved on, the people noticed Red Hail, because
everyone knew about the two young warriors; and there was much talk
of how Good Voice Hawk would bring her tender pieces of cooked meat
when they camped in the evenings; but Brave Eagle did not bring her
anything. Now and then the girl would ride ahead to sit upon a hill
and sing when the two young men were passing; and there were some who
said they heard a difference in the singing, and that it did not favor
homely boys who rode on mules.
“One day when the war party was getting near to enemy country, the
_blotan hunka_, who were the leaders of such parties, held council and
decided to send out two scouts. Brave Eagle and Good Voice Hawk were
chosen to go, maybe because everybody had been talking so much about
them. So after they had been told just what to do, and it was growing
dark, the two young men rode forth together, the one on his fine horse
and the other on his mule. All night they rode towards the country of
the enemy, and just as the day was beginning to break, they came to the
sloping side of a bluff, sprinkled with stunted pines.
“Maybe there were people on the other side; so they tied the mule and
the horse in a brushy place, and began crawling up the slope. It was
not very far to the top, but daybreak had brightened when they reached
it, and there below them was a village with many smokes rising, and
already the people were moving about.
“As the two scouts gazed, they heard hoofs coming, and out of the brush
not very far away a band of horses came trotting, and after them rode a
man who was driving them to a good feeding place for the day.
“Then Good Voice Hawk whispered to Brave Eagle, lying there beside him,
‘Cousin, let us kill the man and scalp him and drive the horses home.’
And Brave Eagle answered, ‘No, cousin, I think that would be wrong,
for we are only scouts. We should tell the _blotan hunka_ what we have
seen, and they will know what is best to do.’ But Good Voice Hawk would
not listen. ‘If you are afraid,’ he said, ‘of course I will do it
myself.’
“He started crawling back and then got up and ran to where the mule and
horse were tied. So what could Brave Eagle do but follow him? Should a
warrior let his comrade fight alone, even if he is wrong?
“Now when they had ridden back to the top of the slope, there not
very far away was the man with the band of horses. So Good Voice Hawk
charged upon him, crying, ‘_hoka-hey_,’ in a loud voice; and Brave
Eagle followed on his mule. The man had time to draw his bow and let an
arrow fly, but he was so excited that he missed; and just as Good Voice
Hawk came near, the man’s horse shied, and Good Voice Hawk charged by
and did not touch him.
“Then Brave Eagle, who was close behind, with one swing of his war club
struck the man from his horse; and already he had taken the scalp when
the other circled back, crying, ‘Cousin, they are coming!’
“By now it looked very bad down there in the valley, for the people
were boiling out of the village like a swarm of bumblebees, and over
them a roar of voices grew. ‘Let us get out of here!’ cried Good Voice
Hawk; and, without stopping to coup the enemy, he headed down the slope
at a run; and after him went the homely warrior pounding on his mule.
“They were not very far out in the open country when, looking back,
they saw many mounted warriors coming out of the pines back yonder, and
they were coming very fast, because their horses were fresh and strong
with plenty of grass. They were coming too fast for the mule, and it
was beginning to look bad for those who fled, when Good Voice Hawk
stopped his horse and cried out to his comrade, ‘Cousin, give me the
scalp.’ And the other, who thought only of the scalp and that it might
be taken from him, gave it to his comrade; for it was not his way to
think bad things of people.
“Then Brave Eagle was all alone, kicking his mule along; and Good Voice
Hawk grew smaller, fleeing yonder, and the sound of many hoofs behind
grew louder.
“Well, that night the handsome young warrior rode into the camp of
his people with a scalp to show and a brave story to tell. There were
many, many enemies, too many for even the whole party to fight; but it
was good to hear how Good Voice Hawk had fought until his friend was
killed. Then he had fled, and only the Great Spirit and a fast horse
had saved him.
“That night the people heard the sound of mourning in Red Hail’s
tepee--weeping and mourning far into the night; and when the sound
ceased, those who still listened thought, ‘The girl has cried herself
to sleep at last!’
“But Red Hail had not slept; and when the morning came, she was not
there. Wherever the people looked, she was not there either. She had
just vanished like a spirit in the night, and her horse was grazing
with the others near the camp.
“Now this is what had happened. While she was weeping in her tepee, Red
Hail thought more and more, ‘I must go to see where he died’; and the
thought was so big by the time her father fell off to sleep, that she
went, creeping away into the darkness so that not even the horse-guards
saw her.
“She was far away when the sun came, and when she had hidden in a clump
of brush, she prayed that she might be led to where Brave Eagle had
died; and then she fell asleep. And as she slept, a sacred power from
her praying and her sorrow came upon her, and in a dream Brave Eagle
came to her, alive as ever, and looked at her awhile the way he used
to do. But there was such a light about him that he was not homely any
more; and when she awoke, the sun was low and her heart was very strong.
“So when she had eaten of some roots and rabbit-berries that were
growing there beside a creek, she started out again and walked all
night. Again she slept and walked; and the sacred power must have led
her, for she came at last to where the hoofs of many horses made a
trail. It led her up a slope sprinkled with stunted pines, and when
she reached the top it was beginning to get dark. There just below her
in the valley was the village of the enemy, and the sound of drums and
singing came to her; for in the center of the village was a fire and
there the people danced as for a victory.
“And now the sacred power came upon Red Hail stronger than ever, and
it told her that Brave Eagle was yonder in the village waiting to be
tortured. So when the dark had come, she crawled down the bluff to a
creek that ran close to the village, and there she sat in the brush
awhile, praying that she might know what to do. And as she sat she
began to sing a little song, very low, the way mothers sing to fretful
children in the night. And while she sang, she took a piece of clay
and shaped it to the singing until it was like a little baby that she
swayed and comforted. And as she sang, the woman-power to make live and
to destroy grew stronger all around her, spreading far. And the singing
of the victors in the village slowly died away, and the drums were
still, and even the bugs in the grasses made no sound.
“Then Red Hail placed the baby in a soft bed of grass and arose and
went into the village. The fire was burning low as though it slept, and
round about it in a circle lay the dancers, sleeping soundly; and no
dog barked. The very ponies that had come from grazing in the dark to
look upon the singing people in the light stood still as stones with
noses to the ground.
“There was a tepee yonder, bigger than the others, and Red Hail’s power
led her to it. And when she raised the flap and looked inside, there
beyond the little sleeping fire in the center she saw Brave Eagle
sitting, bound with thongs and sleeping soundly with his chin upon
his breast. And, all around, the tepee guards were sitting, sleeping
soundly with their chins upon their breasts.
“Then Red Hail stepped across the sleeping fire and touched Brave
Eagle, and he awoke and looked at her the way he used to do, and the
light upon his face was the same the dream had shown her.
“‘I have come for you,’ she said, ‘and we are going home.’ And that was
the first time she had ever seen him smile. So when she had cut the
thongs that bound him, Brave Eagle killed the guards with their own war
clubs and took their scalps with their own knives.
“Then the two went about among the tepees, finding robes well tanned
and soft, and pretty dresses finely made of elkskin, and moccasins well
beaded, and parfleche panniers beautifully painted, and many other
things to make a home. And these they packed upon six of the finest
horses that slept with drooping heads till Red Hail stroked their noses
and told them to awaken.
“Then they rode away and left the village sleeping soundly; and no one
knows how long the village slept. All night they rode, Red Hail ahead,
and after her the horses with their packs, and after them, Brave Eagle
on his mule. And they were far away when daybreak came.
“Now while this was happening, the war party had grown weary of looking
for Red Hail and had gone back home. And when at last the two with
the horses and the packs came near the village of their people, they
camped behind a hill, and peering from the top of it, they saw the
people dancing yonder as for a victory.
“It was getting dark, and Brave Eagle said to Red Hail, ‘I will go to
see my father, and you will watch the horses.’ So he crawled down the
hill and came to a little tepee standing all alone outside the village.
It was made of ragged hides and it was full of mourning. And when he
raised the flap, he saw his father and his mother and his younger
brother sitting there in ragged clothes, with their hair cut off and
nothing in the tepee but their sorrow, for they had given everything
away.
“And when Brave Eagle entered, they thought he was a ghost and just
stared at him, afraid, until he spoke. And when he had told his story
and heard that the people were dancing for Good Voice Hawk, his father
said, ‘I will go to Red Hail’s father and tell him, for he is mourning
too and has given everything away. We will say nothing to anyone else
about this, and in the morning you will come with Red Hail and the
horses and the packs.’
“So Brave Eagle went back to Red Hail there behind the hill. And in the
morning when the dancing had begun again, some people saw the string of
laden horses coming yonder with a woman leading them and a warrior in
the rear. The dancing ceased and all the people stood and stared awhile
without a word, for they could not yet believe they really saw. And
around the circle of the village, left to right, rode Red Hail clothed
in soft elkskin beautifully beaded, and after her the horses followed
with their packs, and after them rode Brave Eagle clothed as when he
rode away to war.
“Then at last a great cry went up from all the people, and the horses
lifted up their heads and neighed, and there was great rejoicing. But
Good Voice Hawk had fled.
“Now when the chiefs had called Brave Eagle and Red Hail into the great
lodge and heard the story, they summoned the _akichitas_, who are the
keepers of the law and have the power of thunder beings. And the head
chief said to them, ‘Find Good Voice Hawk wherever he has fled, but do
not bring him back.’
“Then there was feasting in the village and all the people gave gifts
to those who had mourned, until they had more than plenty of all good
things.
“And when he was still young, Brave Eagle became a _wichasha yatapika_
and then a chieftain. And when the two were bent beneath the snows of
many winters, Red Hail and Brave Eagle were still happy together, for
all their daughters were like their mother and all their sons were
brave.”
XIII
_Four Against the Crows_
Dry snow whined to the footstep in the hush of the blue-cold morning,
and the tepee smoke stood straight. Before I entered I could hear the
old man blowing meditatively upon his eagle-bone whistle--like a sleepy
bird questioning the first promise of a summer dawn. “I thought you
might not come,” he said, “for it is very cold; but it is good that you
are here. We are getting closer to that story about this whistle, and I
was sitting here thinking about it, and about the quirt too.
“This would be a bad day for going to war,” he continued after we had
passed the pipe awhile; “going _maka mani_ too. I think our feet would
freeze before we found Crow horses. And scrawny horses they would
be, with pawing snow for little grass and gnawing frozen bark along
the creeks. But horses are fat where we are going, for the Moon of
Making Fat [June] is nearly full, the grass is good, and cherries are
beginning to darken; also, we are young.
“High Horse was not sick any more, because we had talked so much about
going to war that it had made him well. Also, he was either going to
feed the wolves, or have so many ponies that the girl’s father could
not laugh at him.
“Looks Twice, my father’s brother-friend, was like my father now,
for he had come to live with us and my mother was his woman. He was
very good to me, and I learned much from him. When our war party came
back from across Mini Shoshay, he gave me a good gun that loaded from
behind. He got it from somebody who brought it from Red Cloud’s camp.
High Horse’s father gave him a gun too, but it was not as good as mine.
“We did not say anything to anybody about going after Crow horses,
because the councilors had not announced that war parties could
go forth, and they might not let us go. So when we were ready, we
started with the first sunlight on our backs. Somewhere over towards
the mountains we would come upon the Crows. We had not eaten yet,
so when we were out of sight behind a hill we sat down to eat some
_papa_ so that we might be strong to walk fast and far. While we were
eating, somebody came over the hill, and it was Kicking Bear. He was
a Hunkpapa, and a small band of his people had come to visit and camp
with us. He was not very much older than we were, but he had come from
far away, and he seemed to us like a man who had counted many coups. He
said, ‘Where are you going, cousins?’ And we said, ‘We are going to get
some Crow ponies, but do not tell anybody.’ And he said, ‘You are very
brave men to do that _maka mani_, and I am going with you.’ So that was
good; and when we had eaten some _papa_, we started walking towards
Crow country. But we had not gone far when two horsebacks came, and
they were _akichitas_ bearing a pipe from the council. When they had
held the pipe out for us to touch, they said, ‘Where are you going?’
The pipe was sacred and we had to tell, so we did. And they said, ‘You
are brave young men to do that _maka mani_; but it is not the time for
war parties and you must come back. The council has spoken.’
“So we went back.
“That night High Horse and I were sitting outside the village. The moon
was bright and we were talking about what we could do next. Afterwhile
there were two people coming in the half-dark. It was Kicking Bear with
a friend called Charging Cat. And Kicking Bear said, ‘_How_, cousins!
We are going after those Crow ponies tonight, for we are men. If you
are men too, we will all go together.’ And I said, ‘You will see that
we are men too.’ And High Horse said, ‘We might as well go now, for if
we make a _wakte-agli_ [kill-come-back] with horses, there will be a
victory dance and nobody will be angry at us for going. This we will
do, or else we will feed the wolves yonder, and then nobody will be
angry either.’
“So we went, and there were four of us. When the moon was low in front
of us and the morning star shone upon our backs, above a streak of
daybreak, we were far away, for we had walked fast. There was a place
with rocks around it, and a clear creek was flowing there with grass
beside the water. And near the place was a high hill that was not quite
a mountain. It was a good place to eat what was left of the _papa_ and
to sleep awhile. But before we did this, Kicking Bear took a pipe out
of a deerskin bag. The stem was wrapped with red porcupine quills and
an eagle feather was hanging from it, and there was bison-hide on the
mouthpiece. And Kicking Bear said, ‘My Brothers, this is one of the
hardest things we are doing, and we shall need help, for we are only
men. We will go up on the high hill yonder before we rest and eat, and
there we will dedicate this pipe to Wakon Tonka and make a sacred vow.’