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Authors: Don Coldsmith

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Many
Robes of
the Northern band had been real-chief of all the People for many seasons. His tenure had seen and survived many threats and many changes. There had been the constant skirmishes with the Head Splitters, and the usual political stresses of his position. He had even weathered the cultural shock of the advent of the elk-dog. That change had been far-reaching.
The change in hunting methods and in warfare had converted the People from a defensive, timid tribe. Now they were a respected power on the plains, one even the mighty Head Splitters would hesitate to challenge.
But now came an internal crisis among the People that threatened to tear the tribe apart. Many Robes knew the danger was real. Long ago a tribe to the north had split in two over a minor disagreement between two chiefs. No longer strong enough to withstand pressure from their enemies, one group had been exterminated. The other had
lost prestige and size, and was even now threatened with extinction by the surrounding tribes. This, Many Robes was firmly convinced, must not happen to the People.
But how to avoid it?
Aiee,
people were angry! There were those loyal to each of the two medicine men of the Elk-dog band. Each group claimed that their own possessed the true medicine of old White Buffalo, and that the other was an impostor. White Buffalo had been one of the greatest of medicine men. Many Robes had admired the diplomatic manner in which the old man had adjusted. The threat to his medicine with the coming of the strange hair-faced Heads Off had been great. The medicine man had been able to adapt, allowing the new medicine of the elk-dog to work with his buffalo medicine to the good of all.
But now, the powerful white cape was in the possession of Two Dogs. This young man had had a poor reputation, it seemed. His decision to make something of his life had been welcomed by his band. How could anyone have known that he would abuse the authority? Or, for that matter, that Owl, son of Heads Off, would return after being given up for dead?
Heads Off had avoided a confrontation within the band by calling for a decision in the Big Council. A wise move, Many Robes realized. However, it certainly made the job of the real-chief more difficult. There was a space of less than two suns after the Elk-dog band arrived, in which to evaluate the situation. Then it must be discussed in the council.
By the evening of the council, the entire tribe was in an uproar. Entire bands were taking sides. Oddly, some of those who were most involved were not even of the Elk-dog band.
The Mountain band, feeling the family connection because of Willow's marriage, were solidly behind Owl's claim to the office. That was as it should be.
The Red Rocks band, long close associates of the Elk-dogs, were a smaller band, and had no medicine man of
their own. A strong pressure group had formed among the Red Rocks to persuade Owl to join them.
Most militant of all were the Eastern band. For reasons not yet clear to Many Robes, the Eastern band were so incensed that, almost to a man, they were ready to go to war over the situation. True, they had no medicine man, and it was apparent that they wished Owl to join them. But even this did not explain the militant attitude of righteous indignation that pervaded the group.
Many Robes had consulted with the other medicine men of the tribe. There were two. One, of the Mountain band, was a practitioner of the Night Prophet persuasion. He was old, and his specialty was the foretelling of the future by means of visions. He mumbled and chanted and scattered small bones and sticks on his painted medicine skin. Then he shook his head. Bad things were ahead, he predicted. He could not see clearly, because the vision was clouded by the power of other medicines.
The medicine man of the Northern band, a respected practitioner of buffalo medicine, disqualified himself from any decision on the basis of his profession. It would not be appropriate, he insisted, to pass judgment on another's skill.
Neither of these would be of any help at all, Many Robes thought Both, in effect, wished to remain completely outside the conflict. It was wise, he realized. He could see their concern for their own prestige. What if they should back the wrong faction? Still, the old chief sighed, it made his job no easier.
He talked with Heads Off, who was very depressed over the whole affair, and felt somehow responsible for the trouble in his band. Many Robes tried to reassure him. Such things are no one's fault, he observed. They merely happen. Had he but have known, the real-chief actually forestalled even more trouble with this conversation. Heads Off had been on the verge of offering to
resign as chief of the Elk-dogs. The encouragement of this conversation made him reject this possibility, at least for the present.
Many Robes felt that it would be best for him not to talk directly to the two principals in the dispute, but he discreetly inquired as to their actions.
Owl, he learned, was staying with his wife's people among the Mountain band. He was attempting to remain inconspicuous. It was said on good authority that he wished to avoid trouble, and that he had offered to accept the place of medicine man to the Red Rocks band. However, his wife and his family would not hear of such a thing. The matter must be decided in council.
Aiee
, it falls on me again, thought Many Robes.
The other principal, Two Dogs, now asking to be called White Buffalo, was in haughty seclusion. Any effort to talk to him was rebuffed. He was privately seeking a vision, his helpers stated, as he had been told by his medicine.
Many Robes was upset by this news. There was no way to be sure whether some sort of trick would be attempted.
In all his years, he had never approached a session of the Big Council with such apprehension. He watched the preparation of the council fire for a time, and then turned to dress and prepare himself for the ceremony. With tempers running high, it was apparent that whatever happened would have far-reaching effects for the People.
Many Robes was tired. He found himself wishing that he were younger. Then perhaps he would have more confidence in his ability to handle this situation.
The Big Council
proved to be nearly all that Many Robes had dreaded.
No sooner had Sun Boy's torch dipped beyond the rim of the world, than the People began to gather. Never had a Big Council been so well attended. By the time the council fire had been lighted and all the chiefs and sub-chiefs seated in their appointed places, there was a buzz of nervous excitement in the air.
To most of the onlookers it seemed an interminable amount of time that was occupied in the ritual smoke and the opening statements of the band chiefs. Heads Off, of the Elk-dogs, was very brief in his opening speech. He acknowledged the unexpected return of his son, Owl, who had been considered dead, but scarcely mentioned the matter that was uppermost in everyone's mind.
Many Robes himself introduced the matter of two medicine men in conflict for the authority of the white buffalo
cape, and then the council began to deteriorate rapidly.
Two Dogs arrived, late, at precisely this time. To the shocked amazement of all, he was wearing the precious white cape, usually reserved for buffalo ceremonies. It was a flagrant abuse of authority, in the minds of many. He made a dramatic entrance, and sat before the council in almost haughty contempt.
Several people asked to speak before the council, and each was recognized. Many Robes intended that everyone should have his opportunity to be heard. People testified that Owl had completed his apprenticeship before his abduction. And, did not his very return indicate the strength of his medicine? White Bear, chief of the Red Rocks band, formally offered the endorsement of his band, and the invitation to join them.
No one spoke in behalf of Two Dogs. He obviously considered his claim to the position to be so valid that defense was beneath his dignity. And, it could not fail to impress the onlookers that after all, he was wearing the traditional white cape.
The council seemed to be moving toward an uneventful vote, which Many Robes felt would probably go to the son of Heads Off. He was uneasy about it, however. There was a lot of feeling, and he detected a certain undercurrent in favor of Two Dogs. It could not be denied that Heads Off had originally been an outsider, and his son, Owl, was of mixed blood.
The real-chief saw no incongruity in this situation. Heads Off was one of the most respected of the band chiefs, with strong elk-dog medicine to his credit. Yet, there were some who still resented him as not of the People.
A woman asked to speak, and was recognized by Many Robes. He somehow overlooked the fact that this might be the spark that would set the whole council ablaze. The young mother brought her child forward, a rosy-cheeked youngster of perhaps six summers. He was a smiling,
healthy child. Suddenly Many Robes realized that the woman was emotionally relating a very stirring experience. This child, she was practically shouting, had been snatched from the very jaws of death by the greatest medicine man the People had ever known.
“With no medicine things, even, and with a borrowed drum, he did this thing!”
The young woman's husband rose to stand beside her. Many Robes recognized one of the rising young sub-chiefs of the Eastern band. Ah, so this explained the preoccupation of that group with the dispute. The real-chief had not been aware of the child's illness. The young chief was almost shouting now. He reiterated all that his wife had said, and then, before Many Robes realized the gravity of the moment, he suddenly threw forth a challenge. Thrusting his lance into the ground, he continued his speech.
“—and I am ready to meet in combat any who deny the strength and wisdom of this medicine man!”
A roar of approval rose from the young warriors behind him. The Eastern band was, indeed, ready to fight, the real-chief realized. Apparently he had underestimated the strength of their resolve.
An angry mutter rose from near the seat of Two Dogs. One of his “helpers” sprang to his feet, shouting angrily, and weapons flashed. Voices rose, and the entire situation seemed about to erupt into violence.
Many Robes clapped his hands sharply, and the noise subsided somewhat.
“There will be no fighting among the People!” he ordered firmly. Devoutly, he hoped his command would be respected. He did his utmost to appear as if he expected it. There had once been a time, he reflected, when he could have commanded these young hotheads without question. If necessary, Many Robes could once have enforced the command with sheer physical superiority.
“You will be seated!” It was an order, not a request,
and the young warriors took their places. The real-chief breathed more easily. Things were temporarily under control.
Many Robes was noted not only for his past physical prowess, but for his ability to think rapidly in time of crisis. He now evaluated this situation quickly.
One thing was certain. The matter must not be allowed to come to a vote of the council tonight. Either way the vote went, the losing faction would overreact, and there would be bloodshed. That would cast a shadow over the coming Sun Dance that could never be erased from the history of the People.
It must not happen. If he could keep the situation undecided, there was still hope for a compromise. So, the vote must not come, with tempers running so high. The real-chief could think of only one way to prevent a call for the vote, so he rapidly took action.
“Tonight, we must all seek a vision,” he announced blandly. “The council is dismissed. We will meet again tomorrow night.”
The People were dumbfounded. This was a development unforeseen by anyone. The crowd began to scatter, with some grumbling, but it was clear that the threat had passed.
Many Robes rose and made his way back to his lodge. He wished he were as confident as he tried to appear. He had gained a little time, but that was all. He still had no clear idea of his next move. Certainly, he must seek a vision.
Coyote left the
council with an amused smile on his face. How adept had been the handling of the thing by the real-chief! He had taken the only possible action, that of dismissing the council. How neatly had he drawn the fangs of a poisonous situation!
But, the problem still remained. Coyote was glad that the responsibility was not his. Sooner or later, Many Robes must act. It must be with extreme care, to prevent serious damage to the People. This was only one of the reasons Coyote had never had any aspirations to leadership positions. From outside the critical center of things, one could see more clearly. And, if the truth were known, Coyote rather enjoyed the possibility of gently managing the course of things. He could drop a word here, a gentle nudge there, to move the ponderous workings of the council, or the thoughts of an individual mind. Coyote enjoyed the manipulation involved.
Just now, he circulated around the camp, listening to the buzz and chatter. Things were quieting slowly. Some small groups still hotly debated the issues, but it appeared to be just talk.
A group of young people had brought a drum, and around the remains of the council fire they had started a social dance. More wood was brought, and more people joined in the songs and dances. Good, thought Coyote. That will give them something to do besides make trouble.
He was waiting until later, until things quieted somewhat, to make his move. There was no hurry. Coyote knew that Many Robes would not be sleeping during this night. Strange, on the night the real-chief must dream a vision, that he would be unable to sleep because of that intense need. Coyote chuckled softly to himself.
It was well past the middle of the time of darkness when he at last approached the lodge of the real-chief. The dancers had dwindled to a few hardy souls, and most of the People had retired. He tapped softly on the skin of the real-chief's lodge.
“Who is it?”
“I am Coyote, my chief, of the Elk-dog band. I would speak with you.”
Many Robes, lying sleepless on his pallet, rose to an elbow and sighed in the darkness. Coyote. Yes, he remembered. The fat little warrior, said to be among the most shrewd of the Elk-dog band. Old Hump Ribs, their previous chief, now long dead, had valued Coyote's wisdom and advice. Perhaps he should listen to the man. And, was he not, Many Robes recalled, related somehow to the family of Heads Off?
“In a moment. We will talk outside. It is too hot in here.”
He was, he now realized, sweating in his sleeping robes, only partly from the temperature.
The cool air felt good on his face as the two men walked
down along the stream, and Coyote began to outline his ideas. Soon the real-chief was listening enthusiastically. This little man might easily have hit upon the solution. Many Robes nodded from time to time, asked a question here and there, and started to lay his plans.
At one point they returned to the lodge of the real-chief, and a young woman was sent on a secret errand.
Soon the two were joined by a very sleepy individual, the medicine man of the Northern band. At first he was grumpy and irritable, but after listening a short while, became as enthusiastic as his chief.
They talked a long while, planning the course of action. Coyote, after listening for a time, took his leave and quietly slipped back to his lodge. He was pleased with the night's work.
Tensions mounted through the day, and again, the meeting of the big council was sure to become a critical time. People began to gather before darkness fell.
Owl was reminded of that which occurs when one places a stone from the stream bed in a fire. The water spirits in the stone engage in combat with the fire spirits, and at some unexpected moment a mighty explosion tears the stone apart.
On the previous night, Many Robes had dragged out the formalities of the ceremony, but now he almost rushed through them. The pipe was passed and returned to its ceremonial case by the real-chief's pipe bearer. Now the council could begin. All eyes were on Many Robes as he cleared his throat and spoke with confidence.
“We have had before us the matter of two medicine men. Which is the real one? Who has the true medicine?”
He paused a moment for effect, as a murmur ran through the crowd.
“I have seen a vision.”
More muttering, in approval now. At last the problem would be resolved.
“In my vision, I was made to see that we who know nothing of buffalo medicine must not be the ones who decide. It must rest on the skill of each medicine man, and on the strength of his medicine.”
A restless murmur arose. What did the chief mean by this pronouncement? He raised a hand for silence, and continued.
“Who knows better which medicine is best,” he went on, “than the buffalo himself? We will let the buffalo decide.”
Now there was puzzled confusion. The thought seemed good, but what did it mean? Many Robes was continuing.
“Plans will go ahead for the Sun Dance. Meanwhile, there will be no hunting of buffalo. This will be enforced by the warrior societies. No one must disturb the buffalo!”
He looked around the circle to make certain this edict was understood. It was an important part of the plan. There were nods of understanding, and Many Robes felt that it would be so. The People, by tradition, were expected to abide by the rules of the tribe.
“Now at a time to be announced, the skill of the medicine men will be tried. This will not be a public contest. Its conditions will not be known until the day arrives. Then all will be told.”
All else in the council was now anticlimactic. It is doubtful if anyone remembered any of the announcements or decisions. The arrangements for the Sun Dance were discussed, but that would be routine.
Owl was puzzled. What could be the meaning of Many Robes' strange vision and pronouncement “—let the buffalo decide”?
In the darkness of the back rows, Coyote chuckled quietly to himself. Things were moving well.
Meanwhile, trusted scouts had been dispatched in all directions to locate and observe the buffalo. The plan depended on the presence of a large herd in an undisturbed state. When that necessary ingredient was available, the test would begin.

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