Buffalo Medicine (3 page)
Authors: Don Coldsmith
For the first
few days, Owl fought the idea of captivity constantly. The first night, he spent most of the time of darkness chewing at his bonds. The rawhide thongs became slippery and elastic in his mouth, and he was actually beginning to feel some loosening in the tension on his wrists. Then, when the sky was beginning to pale with the false dawn, his efforts were discovered by the sentry.
few days, Owl fought the idea of captivity constantly. The first night, he spent most of the time of darkness chewing at his bonds. The rawhide thongs became slippery and elastic in his mouth, and he was actually beginning to feel some loosening in the tension on his wrists. Then, when the sky was beginning to pale with the false dawn, his efforts were discovered by the sentry.
The man cuffed the fettered Owl around the head and ears, and calmly retied his hands. Behind his back, this time. From the confident way that the guard laughed and joked about the incident, Owl believed that he had been perfectly aware of the prisoner's efforts for most of the night. The young man sank into depression.
He would spend the uncomfortable time of darkness, hands tied tightly behind him, in wakeful unrest. After three nights, he began to recover from his gloom and
spend the time in more productive thought. His training under the old medicine man began to manifest itself.
spend the time in more productive thought. His training under the old medicine man began to manifest itself.
“You look, but you do not see,” White Buffalo had once scolded in his early training. “You must look behind the things that show, for the meaning beyond.”
In another culture and time, it might have been called analytic observation. To Owl, the process was only that of summing up all the available information and then acting on it. Never too hastily, the old man had constantly warned him. Gain all possible facts first In the stress of the present situation, Owl had reverted to emotional reaction. Now, with time to reason and think, he became the shrewd, trained observer that White Buffalo had attempted to create.
Then, too, there was the visit from his medicine animal. Owl had just slipped into a fitful slumber one night. His hands were uncomfortably tied behind him as he lay, partially on his side. In his half-sleep, the young man heard the distant call of a coyote, and the answer of the animal's mate. Then, in the strange dream-state, a coyote came and sat beside him as before. This time, nothing was said, but he felt a warm confidence and a change in his entire attitude. It was somehow reassuring that his medicine animal could still visit him and possibly help him, even in captivity. Next morning Owl was almost cheerful.
His more cooperative attitude began to be productive immediately. He received more and better food, and his bonds were not drawn so uncomfortably tight. He was able to pay more attention to such things as direction of travel. He found that the war party was moving in a generally southwest direction. This he observed by the path of Sun Boy during the day. By night, this observation was verified by the position of the Seven Hunters and their relation to the constant real-star in the north.
He would need to know which way led back to his own people after his escape. Owl had no doubts as to whether he could escape. Only when. In his mind, escape
was inevitable, unless he were killed first. And it seemed reasonable to assume that if he appeared cooperative, they would be less likely to kill him.
was inevitable, unless he were killed first. And it seemed reasonable to assume that if he appeared cooperative, they would be less likely to kill him.
True, one of the warriors seemed determined to accomplish that end. The man Owl now thought of as Broken Nose constantly harassed the captive. He would sit directly in front of the young man, fondling his knife and making suggestive gestures. He would slowly draw the blade across the front of his own throat. His motions clearly suggested what he intended ultimately for the prisoner. On other occasions Broken Nose would use the universal hand sign language, accompanied by obscene gestures. His leer would rove to the area of Owl's genitals, as he suggestively handled the knife.
Perhaps most nerve-wracking of all was the game the man played with a war club. He would creep quietly behind where Owl lay. Then suddenly, with a shout, he would smash the club's heavy stone to the ground just a finger's breadth from portions of the prisoner's anatomy.
Owl soon observed that the leader of the war party was considerably annoyed by these antics. Several times he spoke curtly to Broken Nose. The young man began to regard this man as his protector. In any case, he was sure that without the restraining influence he would have long since been killed or mutilated or both. And, he was afraid, not necessarily in that order. His skin crawled with terror at the obscene threats of Broken Nose, though he attempted to conceal it. He would show them that a chief's son could greet death with dignity.
This bold face-down with death proved not immediately necessary, however. After a few days' travel the war party reached an encampment of lodges, apparently of their own band. Various of the men were greeted by women and children. Much ado was made of the prisoner. Owl was jeered and pelted with rocks and sticks by the children. Dogs barked and nipped at his feet as he plodded at the end of a
rope behind his captor's horse. An old woman hobbled alongside, jabbering toothlessly, and spat into his face.
rope behind his captor's horse. An old woman hobbled alongside, jabbering toothlessly, and spat into his face.
All this did not bother Owl, particularly. He had expected it. He had seen prisoners of his own people treated similarly. This was merely the initial expression of contempt for an enemy captive.
More worrisome was the thought stirring uneasily in the back of his mind. What would be his ultimate fate? Public torture was a strong possibility. Owl had little knowledge of the niceties of Head Splitter torture. None of the People did. For good reason, too, he thought grimly. He knew of no one who had survived torture by this dreaded enemy. Thoughts of escape faded.
A horrible thing flitted across his mind. It was known that some tribes, far to the south, ate human flesh. Owl could not recall ever having heard that of the Head Splitters. Of course not, he reassured himself, with more confidence than he actually felt. The Head Splitters might hold him to sell or trade back to his own people. He would be more valuable to them for that purpose than for food. Still, the thought sent chills up his spine as he plodded through the thick dust of the enemy village.
His captor halted the horse before one of the largest of the lodges, and slid to the ground. An assortment of women and children welcomed the man warmly. Strange, thought Owl. He had never considered the fact that the enemy, the dreaded killers, must have a family life, too. This scene, except for the different ornamentation and slightly varying construction of the skin lodges, could have been in his own village.
The returned warrior took the rope from Owl's neck, and retied the young man's hands behind him, as had become the custom for the night. The man handed the other end of the rope to an old woman standing near the lodge doorway. There was general laughter, then a few more
words of explanation from his captor. More laughter, exclamations of awe, and some jeers from the older children.
words of explanation from his captor. More laughter, exclamations of awe, and some jeers from the older children.
Owl began to realize the situation. This man, probably a chief, claimed Owl as his prisoner. It would be a matter of great prestige to hold the son of an enemy chief as a captive. And, to further the humiliation, he was being turned over to the women. This in itself was a threatening circumstance. Among Owl's own people, it was regarded that the women of the tribe could be relied on to create new refinements of cruelty in torture. True, this was not the case in Owl's immediate family. His parents, in fact, rather disapproved of excessive torture of prisoners. But some individuals among the People were noted for their imaginative deeds in this area. Owl shuddered a little, and hoped that the family of his captor was not so inclined. And, there was the ever present threat of Broken Nose and his avowed intentions.
The old woman shuffled over, examined Owl like a warrior sizing up a new horse, and then jerked on his rope. He moved in the indicated direction, and she motioned him to sit. The rope was then tied, with only a few hand-spans' slack, to the base of a lodge pole. Any attempt to escape, he realized, would rattle the lodge cover and warn the occupants.
The young man tried to maintain a dignified and confident manner. It was a difficult task, he discovered, while sitting in the dirt among yapping dogs, and with hands tied behind him. His captor's family trooped into the lodge. Much later, one of the younger women returned, and half threw him a bone with shreds of meat.
Then, as an afterthought, she turned and retied his hands loosely in front of him. Now he could pick up the bone, and fend off the dogs while he ate. Owl signed his thanks, but the woman only nodded as she slipped back inside.
Owl soon found
that things were much better for him if he cooperated. If he obeyed his captors, his treatment was tolerable, and he received food that was edible at fairly regular intervals. If not, he received many a whack with sticks from the women. In addition, he literally had to fight the dogs for such bones and offal as were thrown into the dust for him to eat.
that things were much better for him if he cooperated. If he obeyed his captors, his treatment was tolerable, and he received food that was edible at fairly regular intervals. If not, he received many a whack with sticks from the women. In addition, he literally had to fight the dogs for such bones and offal as were thrown into the dust for him to eat.
Likewise, cheerful cooperation resulted in more freedom. His bonds were all but forgotten after a few days. He was tied only at night, and then later, when he showed no tendency to escape, not at all.
The young man was assigned work, of course. Hard, exhausting work. Carrying wood and water, preparing meat and skins for use. Women's work, in short. It was probably well that Owl did not fully understand this. The work assigned to him, that of women, was intended to be demeaning. It was some time before he grasped the
subtle difference in attitude toward women among the Head Splitters. Among his own people, women were held in high regard. Some were heard in council, they could hold property, and basically were well respected. The Head Splitters, while demonstrating a certain love and affection for the women of the family, still seemed to regard them as possessions.
subtle difference in attitude toward women among the Head Splitters. Among his own people, women were held in high regard. Some were heard in council, they could hold property, and basically were well respected. The Head Splitters, while demonstrating a certain love and affection for the women of the family, still seemed to regard them as possessions.
Just as he was regarded as a possession, he grimly decided after one exhausting day at the drudgery of butchering buffalo. He sill had no inkling as to his ultimate fate. Nothing of a very threatening nature seemed imminent, however.
Owl realized that the better he understood his captors, the better his chances for escape. Therefore, he set his powers of observation to work, learning all he could of the language and customs of the tribe. He found that he grasped the language without too much difficulty. Rather more rapidly than he expected, in fact. Owl was reaping the benefits of his strictly regimented training under the medicine man, old White Buffalo. How far away that part of his life seemed already.
Soon he could understand the major thrust of any conversation he happened to overhear. Granted, he could not have phrased an answering sentence. There were still many words completely foreign to his ears. Yet he could gain much information in this way. He elected to appear as ignorant as possible. This was greatly to his advantage in adding to his store of knowledge. His captors, believing him to be totally without understanding, would carry on conversations in his presence as if he were non-existent.
He began to gain knowledge not only of the language and customs of this Head Splitter band, but of the nebulous political structure. As in his own tribe, the shifting weight of prestige governed the actions of many of the people. His captor, he discovered, was called “Bull's Tail,” and was one of the more respected of the sub-chiefs in the band.
Everyone seemed to think well of the man. His courage and integrity were above reproach. Bull's Tail had four wives, Owl observed, and several children. The taking of more than one wife, while not unusual among the People, was apparently much more common among the Head Splitters.
Everyone seemed to think well of the man. His courage and integrity were above reproach. Bull's Tail had four wives, Owl observed, and several children. The taking of more than one wife, while not unusual among the People, was apparently much more common among the Head Splitters.
In fact, it became almost an obsession with some men, it seemed. One of the party which had originally captured Owl, the man Owl thought of as Broken Nose, was one of these. He had at least seven or eight wives, all very young, and some quite attractive. Owl was not surprised to learn that the man was called “Many Wives.” His penchant for buying any young and attractive prisoner was well known in the tribe. It was regarded as something of a joke.
Owl found the practice repulsive, and quite foreign to the customs of his own people. He was already wary of the man, who still used every occasion to communicate his intentions of bodily harm to the prisoner. The man's preoccupation with possession of young women fanned the flames of enmity in Owl. Many Wives was apparently considered wealthy, and his ability to pay well for girls he found desirable was well known.
On one occasion, some days after Owl's captivity began, three men from another Head Splitter band arrived with a prisoner, a young woman. They had come, it appeared, solely for the purpose of selling the girl to the affluent Many Wives. Owl watched from a distance as haggling over the price took place before Many Wives' lodge. Apparently an exchange was agreed on, and the visitors departed, leading several horses.
This incident disturbed Owl immensely. The girl was very pretty. Although obviously unhappy, she carried herself proudly, and demonstrated spirit and courage that Owl found admirable. He realized that she, like himself, was a prisoner with little hope of escape. He became depressed for several days, at times almost despairing the possibility of any change in his miserable status.
The new girl was treated badly by Many Wives. That was apparent, even when observed from a distance. She was assigned the most distasteful tasks. Still, she maintained a proud demeanor. She kept her appearance neat and well-groomed, and even the way she walked and stood showed pride, Owl thought.
He benefited tremendously from observing this captive girl over the next few days. Her spirit was contagious, and he began to take more care of his own appearance. A captive slave-wife of a Head Splitter sub-chief could show proud example. Should not he, Owl, deport himself in a manner befitting the son of a chief of the People? His pride ultimately triumphed over his depression, and he regained a determination. Some day, no matter how long, he would escape and return to his position in his father's band, the Elk-dogs of the People.
It became apparent that any such plans must be indefinitely postponed, however. The Head Splitters began to make preparations to break camp. Owl gathered that they were to travel south to more comfortable wintering quarters. And away from his own people, he realized glumly. He must wait until the following season to make his escape attempt.
Still, it was probably well that the seasonal move was to take place. There had been frost in the air, as Cold Maker blew his chilling breath from the north. Owl had begun to snuggle at night among the dogs for warmth, outside the lodge of Bull's Tail. He had started to wonder how he was to survive a winter with no shelter except the scrap of ragged buffalo robe he had managed to possess.
For as many days as he had fingers and toes the band traveled, into strange, forbidding country. The Head Splitters seemed quite at home here, but to Owl it was the end of the earth. Sand, dust, spiny plants with strange growth habits. The grass, such as it was, seemed thin and
poor when compared with the lush grasses of his prairie homeland.
poor when compared with the lush grasses of his prairie homeland.
The band had paused for a rest stop. Owl slid the heavy rawhide packs from his back and sank to a reclining position. He checked the ground carefully first, of course. He had never seen an area with so many small creatures that could bite or sting or inflict harm. And real-snakes! Only three suns past, a horse had died, horribly swollen and distorted, from the bite of the biggest real-snake Owl had ever seen. The snake had not, it was said, even bothered to rattle a warning.
After making sure of his reclining place, Owl relaxed his aching muscles and closed his eyes. He hoped the stop would be a long one. The load he had been forced to carry was a heavy and clumsy one. The exhausted young man was very near sleep when a soft voice broke through his consciousness. It was lilting and jaunty, almost mocking, yet sincere.
“Do not move, only listen,” came the melodious feminine tones. “You wish to escape, man of the People?”
With a shock, Owl realized the woman was speaking in his own language, the tongue of the People, which he had not heard for several moons.
Owl sighed deeply, and flung an arm over his head, rolling over, as if shifting to a more comfortable position. Now on his side, he cautiously opened his eyes, only a slit at first. There, seated on a red sandstone boulder a few feet away, was a young woman. The slave girl, he realized, of Many Wives.
“Who are you?” He spoke cautiously and softly. “You are of the People?”
“I am called Willow. Mine is the Mountain band.” She paused. “I saw you at the Big Council a summer ago. Your father is Heads Off, chief of the Elk-dog band.” It was more a statement than a question. “I was taken by the Head Splitters in the Ripening Moon last season.”
Voices approaching threatened to cut short the conversation. Owl muttered as if in sleep, and rolled to his back again.
“Are there others of the People here?”
“I know of only one old woman. Her spirit is broken and she will not wish to leave. But we must escape. We will talk again.”
The girl's voice trailed off into a musical hum, and as the others approached, she seemed only to be softly singing to herself. Nearby lay the sleeping Owl.
Actual sleep did not come easily to Owl that night. His mind was filled to overflowing with thoughts of the girl and of escape. They must bide their time carefully, to avoid suspicion and wait for the proper moment. But his main feeling was that of happiness. What tremendous good fortune, to discover a woman of the People. One who appeared highly intelligent, capable, and best of all, one who was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. How appropriate her name, Willow, to describe the way she walked and moved.
On a far hilltop a coyote called to her mate, and Owl, hearing, was almost exultant. His medicine animal was still with him. Good things were sure to result from the day's events.
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