Eagle People (26 page)

“Yes, of course, and tell her I will care for the women and no one will be freed until enough time has passed to make sure they are clean.”

Amon walked to the door and said, “I am glad you are our shaman. Once with the Cheyenne Mountain People, we will learn much.”

“Go, you deserve some rest and time alone with Mongoose.”

A short time later he was seated in the dirt beside his wife as she roasted meat for their supper.  Roots boiled in a clay pot on the coals, as two slabs of cornbread heated up on rocks circling the flames.

“So, the Wolf People are no more?” she asked.

“The captives are from the Northern Plains People, and they say the Wolf People are all dead.  My biggest concern is the disease that some may carry.”

“I understand your concern, but there is little we can do except what is being done. I'm sure, once pronounced healthy, the women will be made welcome by the men. Some of the younger ones may want to train as warriors.”

Pulling her into his arms, he gave her a hug and said, “Our life will be much safer once we relocate. The guns, I saw them in action, make short work of others. Dooley has promised to teach each of our warriors how to use the weapons, and I have one by the door now. I fired it, know how to change magazines, and can move the safety switch from off to on, but that's about it. He said each would be given a rifle, learn to care for it and fire it safely. It causes strange injuries.”

Rotating the meat, Mongoose smiled and nodded.

“One man was shot in the chest, but the bullet came out near his ankle and I asked Sergeant Dooley about how that could happen. He explained when the bullet strikes a target, it tumbles and often the force may move it in a totally different direction. He said the tumbling causes severe internal bleeding and damage to flesh.”

“It is good to know we will soon hold such a weapon in our hands. I want to live where I don't have to worry about being attacked as I sleep. I also like the idea of growing produce and animals, so we can eat good food in bad weather. I have read of this land before the fall, and dream to one day live as the Ancient Ones once lived.”

“You dream big, my love.”

“Why not?  Dreams are free, so it costs no more to dream huge than small.”

Amon chuckled and then asked, “After we eat, do you know a woman who wants to bring a smile to her husband's face?”

“There might be one, but first we must eat. Between my trip and your raid, neither of us has taken care of our bodies as we should.”

“Your words are true, but the People come first.”

Picking a piece of mean skewered on a stick from the fire, Mongoose said, “Eat, my husband, and we'll then see if we can both go to sleep smiling. I have missed your loving.”

The next afternoon, the shaman sat beside a small fire in Amon's lodge and said, “The women look clean, but we'll see how they look after two weeks. It may be the old woman and the man you killed were the only infected ones. The disease can only be transmitted by sexual contact, so perhaps the two were lovers.”

“Maybe, but the woman was twice the warrior's age.”

The shaman laughed and then said, “Older women make the best cooks, they know when not to speak, and they are usually the best lovers, because they have learned over the years how make a man happy.”

“I think your words are true. Mongoose said as soon as the rain stops and mud dries we are to leave. Do you have all you'll need packed?”

“I'm ready to travel now, but we'd not get far in this mud. I understand the Cheyenne Mountain People know much about medicine.”

“According to Sergeant Dooley, they have shots, or that's what he called them, to protect people from illnesses. I understand, after speaking with him at great length, a medicine is injected into a persons arm and it protects them by exposing them to a very weak case of the illness. He also spoke of taking blood from one person and putting it into another. I have no idea how either works and while I want to disbelieve him, I think he's speaking the truth.”

“Our medical books refer to the shots as immunizations and they do work. If we'd had small pox shots before the disease struck, we'd all be alive right now. We lack the knowledge to produce the vaccine, so we die. I also looked up blood transfusions and that too can be done, except blood is broken down into different types and not all is the same.”

“I don't understand. All blood is red, right?”

“What I mean is, the chemical makeup of blood is different with some people. Some may be this type while others will be another type. Like types can be used to transfer blood. Use the wrong type and you kill the receiver.”

“How can one type be identified over another?”

“We lack the equipment and skills, but the Cheyenne Mountain People can do it. All of this medical stuff will save lives in the long run. How long does an average male live, right now, in our village? Fifty years?”

“About that, but some die younger and some older.”

“The average life span with the Sergeant's people is 83 years, which is one hell of a big difference.”

“Thirty two years is a long time. They must know much.”

“They do know much; the mountain is stocked well with medical supplies, and their doctors, they don't call them shaman, are well trained. They have rooms for surgery, to help their injured and sick, and machines assist them in saving lives. I think this move, once we iron out our minor differences, is best for The People.”

“We shall see, my friend, won't we?”

Four days later, the village was strung out for almost a half mile as they moved north by west. Sergeant Dooley pleaded with folks to stay together, but some were still weak from the pox, others were old and some were young, so the pace was difficult for them.

At one point, Mongoose move to Eldon and said, “Remember the people we found slaughtered out here on our way to the mountains?  We need to find a way to keep our people close together. If we're all strung out like this and attacked, we'll lose many to death and injury. Any ideas how this can be done?”

“I think we should take some horses from the herd, place an older person and younger person on the same animal. Have them ride double. We have plenty of horses, so we can swap them out every couple of hours. On foot they'll never be able to keep up.”

“Let's try this and see if it works. The way we're spread out now worries me. We get all stretched out and then attacked it'll be all over except for the crying.”

An hour later the group was tighter and Dooley had two of his soldiers riding herd on the ass end of things to keep all moving forward. Of course, a man was riding point, one drag and outriders were in position.

Those in front rode slower than normal to allow all to stay together.

Dog Soldiers were out and about as well, constantly coming and going, making reports and so far all was well, or so it seemed. Finally, one Dog Soldier reported seeing well over a hundred horse tracks and they were carrying weight, which in most cases meant riders. But they were moving east and passed in front of the Eagle people a good half a day earlier.

When they stopped for the night, Mongoose ordered double guards and Amon complained of a feeling he had of being watched. Dooley felt they were watched as well but said, “Watching us and attacking is something very different. If they see the guns we carry they'd be fools to attack us.”

“They could attack at night, when they suspect all of us are asleep. A gun does a sleeping man no good.”  Mongoose said and then added, “Two hours before dawn, I want everyone up and in a defensive position. I want the wagons circled tonight, tongue to tailgate, and the women, children, and elderly, except for warriors, inside the circle. The rest of us will circle the circle, so to speak.”

“Pass the word, if you have to relieve yourself tonight, do it in place. Moving around in the dark would be a good way to get killed. I don't know for sure we'll be attacked, but I always listen to feelings like I have right now.” Amon said, and then gave a weak grin.

Supper was cooked at individual fires, each family cooking their own meal, which was mainly beef and roots, such as cattail roots or wild potatoes. Most made simple soups, but some fried the meat and the roots. As the wonderful scent of cooking food filled the air, Mongoose and Amon ate leftover stew from the night before.

As soon as the sun went down, most went to their blankets, tired after their first day of travel.  To all, except the warriors, the day had been long and exhausting. Guards moved to their posts and fires were banked for the night.

Amon awoke with a touch to his ankle. He noticed the moon was full and Mongoose signed, “It's quiet, but time to get up.”

Rubbing dried sleep from his tired eyes, he stood, picked up the rifle, and moved away from the others where he peed. As he turned, he noticed others doing the same and not a one left the circle to take care of business.

He found Sergeant Dooley, who said, “We've movement all around us, but nothing we can identify clearly. It started about twenty minutes ago and has increased.”

“They'll hit us at full light then. I need you to walk around the circle and tell the soldiers and warriors what you just told me. I want them alert and awake at dawn.”

As Dooley walked away, Amon thought,
I hope there are not a bunch of them or some of our people will die.

He squatted behind a bush and waited, his finger off the trigger, but close enough for instant use.  He looked to the east and saw the sun would be visible in just a few minutes.

The Sergeant had just returned when dark shadows began moving toward the wagons. Amon quit counting at 200 and thought,
Damn me, but this is going to be hard.

Arrows flew through the air, to land where most of the warriors had spent the night, but all they struck were blankets. The warriors had all moved. Still they proceeded slowly forward toward the Eagle People.

As the first rays of sunlight showed over the land, a loud war cry filled the cool morning air and men ran for the wagons. Most of the attackers were coming from the west, while a few ran from the north. Not a sound was heard, until Sergeant Dooley yelled, “Fire!”

Rifle fire began to drop the warriors, as spears and arrows joined in the defense of The People. Screams were heard, yells for help, and shouts of anger. Amon fired at a huge man in front of him, struck him in the head, and down he went; the men behind him were splattered with gore. He shifted slightly to the left and fired single shots as he dropped man after man.  

From his left, he spotted a figure at the last second, and before he could react, the man struck him. The impact knock the M-16 from his hands and they both landed in the grasses. Amon stood first and pulled his battle ax. The attacker picked up his spear and made a wild thrust at the Eagle warrior and when the shaft passed him, Amon swung his ax and severed the spear. He then moved forward, holding his ax at the ready. When the man turned to run, Amon threw his ax with all his strength and laughed when the wide blade stuck in the mans back, parallel to his spine. He picked up his rifle, checked the barrel and once sure it was clear, he began picking his targets.

The battle raged all around him and at one point he saw the enemy break through the line, but Mongoose and her warriors quickly filled the hole. Dead men littered the field.

An arrow of flames landed on the grasses, but due to the recent rains it did no damage. Amon heard three long whistle blasts and the enemy started to withdraw. He continued to select targets and drop them as quickly as he could. Empty magazines were on the ground in front of where he'd made his stand.

From out of the blue an arrow struck his left foot and when he glanced at it, the shaft was of the Northern Plains People, and the foot was pinned to the ground. He felt no pain, but he'd experienced enough combat to know it would come, as soon as he came down from his adrenaline high. During the wounding, other than flinching when the arrow struck, he'd kept shooting and dropping the Northern Plains warriors.

Loud explosions were heard and the unexpected noise scared the Northern Plains People, who suddenly broke into a fast run toward the rear.
It must have been the grenades Dooley told me about,
he thought as his pain started to come.