Bittersweet Ecstasy (45 page)

No one had noticed the dark clouds moving their way, until the wind picked up and carried them overhead, blocking the sun from view. It was almost as if dusk had settled over them. Bright flashes of lightning charged across the heavens and rumbling thunder followed it, rapidly moving closer and closer and louder and louder. Sun Cloud implored, “I call on you, spirits of thunder, lightning, rain, and wind, to bring us a message; tell us how to defeat our white foes.”

The ground seemingly trembled as the power of nature increased and boldly displayed itself. Rain began to pour upon everyone, but no one moved, for they felt as if the Great Spirit was communicating with them through Sun Cloud, as if the valiant warrior was the one calling down these powers to compel a message from them.

The sky grew darker and darker. Rain poured heavier and faster, soaking everyone and washing away all traces of blood and sweat. Lightning zigzagged constantly and fiercely across the heaven above. The thunder seemingly had no beginning or ending to his loud voice. Brisk winds yanked at tepees and clothing, and wet hair was whipped into eyes and faces. The storm raged in a powerful frenzy. It was raining so hard it was difficult for the people to keep their eyes open and heads upward to witness this stirring event. The sounds of pouring rain, booming thunder, and wild winds combined to almost painfully assail everyone’s ears. The Sun Dance pole appeared to sway eerily, and Sun Cloud’s body twirled slowly, tangling the rawhide ropes.

The shaman jumped up to chant and dance around the pole as the storm’s fury mounted and Sun Cloud prayed for a vision. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to travel with the force which was flowing within and around him. He was no longer aware of the agony in his chest, nor of his violent surroundings. Colorful images danced inside his head, changing shapes and sizes every few minutes. Far away he could hear something beating steadily, perhaps it was his heart or his life-force leaving his body to communicate with the Great Spirit.

He saw himself standing on a lofty hill, overlooking his lands. He saw units of bluecoats coming from every direction to band together to attack his people and other tribes. He saw his people using the Apache war skills to attack each band and destroy them. He saw a white man whose face was hazy approach him and shake hands with the warrior at his side; turning, he saw his father standing there. He watched the two make and accept the signs for peace, and heard his father call the man
kola
and Colonel Derek Sturgis, then Gray Eagle placed Sturgis’ hand in Sun Cloud’s and smiled meaningfully. His mother joined the two men and whispered, “Peace, my son, it is the only path to survival for the Dakota Nation, and it must survive.”

He saw a warrior whose hands were covered in blood, Indian blood, and his face was that of Silver Hawk’s. He saw himself walk forward and slay this wicked traitor, then hold out his hands in beckoning to the man’s sister, Singing Wind, and he saw her running eagerly toward him with love in her gaze. He heard someone call his name over and over and he looked around to answer. He could find no one, but he recognized the voice from far away: Rebecca Kenny’s. He saw himself standing with his brother; he was wearing the tribal chief’s bonnet and Bright Arrow was
adorned as the war chief.

Sun Cloud lifted his arms skyward once more and said, “It will be done as you command, Grandfather. Free me so I can obey.”

A strong gust of wind surged through the center of camp and, as if untied by its mystical fingers, the soppy bandana around Sun Cloud’s neck loosened and plunged to the ground. A dazzling bolt of lightning nearly sheared through the Sun Dance pole three feet upward from its mud-spattered base, sending forth a loud boom and an ominous cracking sound. Bright sparks shot in all directions and puffs of smoke swirled into the air, but the sacred pole did not catch fire. It swayed to one side, gradually splintered and eased to the drenched ground, lowering Sun Cloud without injuring him or ripping the thongs from his chest.

People squealed and scattered rapidly, but the pole landed between tepees as if intentionally avoiding all life and property. All eyes looked above and around them as the rain, wind, thunder, and lightning ceased almost instantly and simultaneously. A strange aura hung over the camp and its people. The storm rapidly moved off into the distance, leaving a colorful rainbow stretched across the horizon and fluffy white clouds leisurely drifting overhead. Gradually the sky lightened; the hazy mist cleared; the rainbow faded; and the sun climbed from behind what resembled a pile of clouds. The radiant ball peered over them, as if creating the same image as upon Sun Cloud’s possessions and his
wanapin
—which had been exposed to their eyes after the red bandana had fallen off. While catching his breath and summoning his lagging strength, he edged to the remaining base of the sacred pole and leaned his back against it. His long hair was soaked and nearly all of his body paint had been washed away, all except for the yellow strips and dots on his face, which formed the
pattern belonging to Gray Eagle.

Sun Cloud gazed at the fiery ball which was shining brightly on his weary, but tranquilly victorious, face and reflecting off of his sun-and-clouds medallion. It was strange; his chest was sore and uncomfortable, but the searing agony had vanished. In fact, a numbing sensation seemed to engulf his injuries. His body was exhausted; yet he felt wonderful inside, where his spirit was soaring.

The shaman came forward with the sacred knife, dropped to one knee in the mud, cut the thongs which were still secured to the young warrior’s chest, and carefully removed them. His hands cupped Sun Cloud’s shoulders and he smiled. To him, it was almost like gazing into the face of Gray Eagle many years ago! “Grandfather honored and freed Sun Cloud, so we must do the same. Grandfather revealed a powerful vision with strong medicine to Sun Cloud. When we hear it, we must obey. Come, my son, you need care and rest.”

Forcing himself to ignore his weakness, Sun Cloud stood and looked around him. All who had observed this ceremony knew it was powerful medicine, and the warriors were eager to hear of his sacred vision. As with the shaman, others felt as if they were in the presence of Gray Eagle reborn and they could not help but stare at Sun Cloud.

“I must eat, drink, and rest for a time, then we will meet in the ceremonial lodge. There is much to tell.” Sun Cloud glanced at his father’s lifetime friend White Arrow and smiled, love and respect filling both men’s eyes as they seemed to talk without words. His gaze drifted around the front circle of council members and high-ranking warriors, wondering if any of their eyes and hearts had been opened to the truth; he smiled and nodded to each. His gaze lingered a time on his
observant brother before he left with the shaman to have his chest tended and to discuss the meaning of his vision with the wise one.

As he doctored the young warrior’s chest—cleansing and then covering the wounds with potent healing herbs, pressing the flesh back into its proper place, and binding his chest snugly—Mind-who-Roams listened intently and reverently as Sun Cloud related his vision. He gave the young warrior nourishing food to eat and chokecherry wine to drink. The wine was laced liberally with a variety of medicinal herbs to promote healing, to prevent shock and fever, and to lessen pain.

The shaman remarked, “It is as I believed; you must become chief.” The older man smiled and stated, “You will become chief. You are much like your father. It is as if he has returned to us in you.”

Sun Cloud smiled gratefully and replied, “This is not the time to seize my advantage. Our warriors must stand and ride and fight as one, not battle over helping friends to win votes. I must see my brother before the council; there are special messages for him.”

Sun Cloud revealed his vision to Bright Arrow, except for the part about Silver Hawk, wickedness which he felt his brother must uncover on his own, for only then would Bright Arrow believe that his friend Silver Hawk was capable of such evil and treachery.

Bright Arrow and Sun Cloud were alone, so they could talk openly and honestly. Bright Arrow studied his younger brother and wondered how much, if any, of these stunning words he should, or could, believe. To accept Sun Cloud’s contradictory vision weakened or destroyed his own vision, denied him his dreams and desires. If Sun Cloud’s vision was placed above his own in power and meaning, he, Bright Arrow, first-born of Gray Eagle and Shalee, would appear a fool or an evilheart, a greedy misguider and deceiver, to his tribe and to others. His troubled spirit asked how could he lose everything again? How could he return to being an empty shell which did nothing more than fight, hunt, and exist? And all alone? He fretted mentally, why was Sun Cloud doing this to him? Why was Grandfather allowing it? “You say the bonnet I was wearing in my vision was that of the war chief?” When Sun Cloud nodded, Bright Arrow asked, “What of Big Elk? He is
only forty-three winters old, too young to die.”

“Not in battle, my brother, but we must hold this sad news between us, for a man should not know when the Bird of Death is flying over his head. You are to be our war chief, my brother; this is the will of the Great Spirit and our father,” he stated gently, kindly.

“Is it the will of our people and our allies?” Bright Arrow scoffed.

“When the time comes, it will be so,” Sun Cloud responded softly.

“Do you tell me Rebecca still lives only to steal Singing Wind from my side? Do you crave her so much, my brother, that you would lie about a sacred vision? You did not share my vision; you do not know what I was told and shown. You tell me my headdress was that of the war chief’s in your vision; it was not so in mine. I cannot speak for the truth or power of your vision, only mine, and I must obey it. My vision said you would try to take
all
things from me, and though I doubted such bitter words, they have come to pass, as all things in it will come to pass. You must face what we both know to be true: Rebecca is dead; Singing Wind and the chiefs bonnet will be mine,” he vowed confidently, but his emotions were at war within him, for the man who had left the Sun Dance pole had done so with his father’s image, and he felt as if he were being tricked. He argued, “It was not a sacred vision which came to you this day, Sun Cloud; you were only dreaming from your pain and desires. You called upon your name and Sacred Bow spirits to help you; they should not have answered as you begged them and misguided our people. Cast aside their mischief or wickedness, my brother; it creates a cover of evil over our camp.”

Sun Cloud wearily shook his dark head and inhaled deeply. His somber eyes scrutinized his brother closely,
gravely, regrettably. He was suddenly very tired and discouraged, as if he were being drained rapidly of life, hope, joy, and confidence. Even as a child, he had never wanted to weep more than at this moment. He was consumed by frustration and disquiet, for he realized that Bright Arrow truly believed every word he was speaking. In a tone which was low and heavy with emotion, he refuted, “You are the one who is misguided, Bright Arrow. How I wish Grandfather would open your eyes and heal your wounded heart quickly, for this conflict between us is painful and destructive, and we must not allow it to cause dissension and rivalries amongst our friends and people…or we could all perish. Your vision was a dream of desires, not mine. Can you not see that Silver Hawk has misled you and deceived you? Can you not see how he tries to place your feet on my destined path? When Big Elk is slain and Rebecca returns, you will know I speak the truth. Make certain it is not too late to leave my path to return to your own,” he advised gravely. “When our foes have been defeated and our camp is safe, before the buffalo hunt, we must share the sweat lodge and a visionquest. Only then can we learn the truth, can we find and accept our true destinies.”

Bright Arrow watched Sun Cloud conquer his fatigue and weakness to stand. “What will you tell the council?” he inquired.

Sun Cloud met his gaze and answered, “I will not speak of Rebecca or Singing Wind. I will not speak of Big Elk’s death. I will not speak of the chiefs bonnet. I will not speak of you and your friend. I will speak only of war and peace, for only they matter at this time. Agreed?”

Bright Arrow was surprised and pleased by that news. Witnessing his brother’s concern and love for their people, he wished he had not made such cold and
mean accusations, for Sun Cloud could be honestly mistaken, and he wanted to seek the truth through a joint visionquest. He and his brother loved each other, and they loved their people. They could not endanger their lands and tribe with a rash quarrel. The final decision belonged to Grandfather, so it was cruel and ruinous to clash with each other. He smiled contritely and nodded. “Do you wish the council to meet when the sun returns? The Sacred Bow race and Sun Dance take much from a man. You have honored yourself and our family with your two victories. No other warrior has claimed both in one day. You are much like our father, for he too chose the hanging rite.” He had noticed how shaky and pale his brother was, and it tugged at his heart and mind, for they had been close for years.

Joy and relief surged through Sun Cloud; he had not seen that look of mingled pride, love, and worry on his brother’s face in weeks. Gingerly touching his injured chest, he grinned and teased, “You did not warn me of what it was to endure the Sun Dance. I do not see how you yielded to it twice. Much courage and strength run in your blood and body, my brother. I remember the first time I looked upon you in the Crow camp when I was seven winters old and they had captured me, for I was a baby when you left our tribe and you were as a stranger. No man stood taller or braver in my eyes. You tricked and defeated our enemies, and you must do so again. In my medicine bundle, I still carry the Crow
wanapin
you gave me when you saved my life and rescued me. We share the blood of Gray Eagle and Shalee, and our spirits can never be parted. How I wish I could say, you are the oldest son and must become chief, but I cannot. Forgive me and understand, my brother, but I must obey Grandfather, no matter how great my love and pride for you or the torment we
must endure.”