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Authors: Janelle Taylor

BOOK: Lakota Flower
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Nahemana looked from one family member to the next and then at the crowd as he finalized the ceremony. “It is done; she will be called Inunpa of the Red Shields. May she be protected and guided by her people and by the Great Spirit until she joins Him many suns from this one.”

War Eagle’s heart surged with happiness and pride for his brother’s victory and for Caroline’s inclusion in the stirring event. His spirit soared as high, free, and powerful as the sky creature from whom he had been given a name during his vision quest upon entering manhood. He saw her leaving the area with Cloud Chaser and Macha, but did not approach her because his cousin was watching him with a scowl. So far, he had not been given an opportunity to speak to her alone, but soon he would seek one so he could thank her and praise her for her good deeds. After he reaffirmed that decision, he wondered how such behavior would affect her.

As War Eagle returned to his family’s tepee, his mind was flooded with remembrances of their meeting, their ride to the summer camp after her capture, their journey toward the Cheyenne camp, and their intimate moments beneath the ledge during the storm and near the riverbank after the battle with Black Fist. He wanted to share the latter again with her. He yearned to hold her, kiss her, stroke her hair and flesh, and possess her fully. Would he ever be given the chance to do so? If not, this ache within him would increase. Some sun and in some way, he must have his heart’s desire, but when and how, he did not know…

Shortly before dusk, Caroline asked if she could take a gift to Inunpa. She showed the rag doll she had made during the last few days to Cloud Chaser, who smiled and gave his permission. She had used the remainder of her demolished petticoat for its head, body, and stuffings. Macha had given
her a yellowish oily substance from the buffalo’s gall to dye multiple strips almost the color of her own hair. She had used skills her mother had taught her long ago and supplies from her travel repair kit for sewing them into place. She had removed two blue buttons from the bottom of a blouse to give it eyes the shade of hers. The rest of its facial features—nose, mouth, eyebrows, and lashes—had been stained with other dyes from nature. Its dress had been made from a piece torn from the same garment from which she had made a bandage for War Eagle following his fight with the Crow enemy. “I named her Friend Brings, for I helped bring Inunpa into the world. Is it an acceptable gift, or will it be insulting because the doll is white?”

“It is a good and generous gift, Caroline. Dewdrops and Wind Dancer will be pleased and honored. Inunpa will enjoy playing with it when she is older, and it will always remind her of the white woman who saved her life.”

“Thank you, Cloud Chaser, and I’ll return as fast as possible.”

In Wind Dancer’s tepee, Chumani took the doll from Caroline and studied the excellent workmanship as she was told its name and the reason why Caroline made it. She smiled and said, “It is good, my friend. I will wrap it in a fur and keep it safe in a pouch until Inunpa can play with it.”

Wind Dancer took it from his wife’s extended hand and looked at the doll with sunny hair, blue eyes, and white skin. “It is good and generous, Caroline. Thank you for the gift and for the lives of Dewdrops and Inunpa.”

“I’m the one who is grateful to you and your people for being so kind to me. I hope everyone here will realize I’m not an enemy to be hated and feared. I will not try to escape and I will not betray your people to mine. I only hope my being in your camp does not provoke an attack on it.”

“Do not fear a bad deed, for soldiers do not know you live
among us. If they ride to our camp, it is not to fight for your return. It will be to destroy us and steal our lands. You will not be blamed or punished for their evil.”

“Thank you, Wind Dancer, and I’m sorry about the wicked things my people do to you’ they are wrong. You are a good man and will be a good chief for your people. I must go and help Dawn before it’s dark outside.”

Wind Dancer only nodded with a pleasant expression, but Chumani spoke to her again before she left their tepee.

“Go with our thanks, my friend. We will talk more on a new sun.”

In Cloud Chaser’s tepee that evening as they ate their last meal of the day, he related to Caroline what the shaman had said to her during the Naming Ceremony, and what Nahemana had said to the others present.

Caroline was surprised to hear those words, and they pleased her. Yet, she decided not to comment on them. Cloud Chaser’s mood appeared somber, and she wondered if her lack of a response disturbed him. To check out that possibility, she murmured, “Your father and mother were so proud and happy today.”

Cloud Chaser’s mind had wandered during her silence as he thought about the doll Caroline had made and given to Inunpa, a doll with the same colorings of his own mother, who had missed Casmu’s birth and Naming Ceremony. He had not asked his father if he had been given such a ceremony, but he suspected there had been none due to the circumstances of his conception—one encounter between Rising Bear and Margaret Phillips, who had come to be known as Omaste, meaning
Sunshine
for her golden hair. Yet, that unintentional sharing of a mat had resulted from his father’s grief and loneliness and perhaps his manly needs during the difficult time when Winona was a captive of the Pawnee for two years and was feared dead or lost to him forever. He had
been named Cloud Chaser at birth, not given a childhood name, which usually was changed during a brave’s vision quest upon entering manhood as with his brothers. He remembered his mother telling him that she had selected it, not his father. Despite his mixed blood, he had been reared as Rising Bear’s son until he was taken far away by the Martins, a year after his mother was lost to him. He could not help wondering if his life would have been different if Winona had not escaped and returned and Omaste had lived and perhaps become Rising Bear’s wife.

In the midst of those recollections and thoughts, Caroline’s query crept into his mind. “My mother is dead. She died—” Suddenly he realized what he was saying and halted, scolding himself for his distraction and slip.

A startled Caroline asked before she could stop herself, “Winona isn’t your mother? How so? You said you were not adopted. I’m confused.”

“My mixed bloodline will not help you escape your fate as captive.”

“I don’t follow your meaning, Cloud Chaser.”

He looked at her with a stoic expression and used a firm but harsh tone to close the matter as he stated, “I am the blood son of Rising Bear, but not Winona; that is all you need to know about me.”

Caroline did not apologize for asking about him, but nodded obedience to his implied command not to pry any further. From his tone of voice and expression, he was troubled by his slip of the tongue and by something that had happened in his past. She knew he had been captured in this territory at the age of ten and had been reared in Oregon by an elderly white couple until the age of twenty-two. He had returned to his people last year, but there was more to his story, to his history, to his birth than he would reveal. Many questions filled her mind. Who was his mother? When and how had she died? What did he mean by “mixed bloodline”?
And why had he said it “will not help you escape your fate as a captive”?

Without looking at Cloud Chaser and while pretending to focus on her food, Caroline called his image to mind and studied it. Was it possible her owner was part … white? That his mother had been a white captive? Had Rising Bear taken a second wife or simply … mated with her? Perhaps, if she had guessed right, that incident was a shameful secret, one kept hidden in a box that she must not attempt to unlock and peek inside. If her deductions were accurate, her mind continued to reason, it would explain his appearance, that strong hint of
whiteness
in him, despite his long brown hair and mostly Indian features. It also would explain—wouldn’t it?—why War Eagle had chosen his second brother to be her owner, a man who would understand and accept a white woman in his tepee. After all, Chumani already had a son of three years and was heavy with child number two when she was captured, so Dewdrops—who spoke English—could have used her help more than or as much as Macha…

Perhaps, Caroline reasoned, it would be smart to test his feelings toward her and learn if he wanted her out of his sight now that she had discovered his closely guarded secret. “Would you like for me to stay with Dewdrops for a few days to tend the baby so you and Dawn can have some privacy for a while? I’ve been living and working underfoot for a long time and you two have been married for only a little over a year.”

Cloud Chaser grasped her meaning from her lowered gaze, flushed cheeks, and strained voice. “That isn’t necessary, Caroline, but I thank you for your generous offer. A man and wife do not … touch each other on the sleeping mat until their child is two years old. It is believed that doing so may harm the mother’s milk, and it would be unwise to create and carry another child until the other one is weaned.” To change the subject, he queried, “Did you have black captives?”

“What?” she asked, baffled by that question.

“You said you lived on a plantation and helped deliver babies there. From what I learned while I lived among the whites, they used slaves to work their land, black captives from far away across the big waters.”

Caroline realized he would talk about his existence with the whites, but not about his strange birth. She told him, “My father did not believe in slavery. He hired men to work our land and hired a woman to help Mother in our home. Those who had families were allowed to live in small houses Papa built near the edges of our plantation. That gave them and us privacy.”

“So you think it is wrong to capture and enslave a person?”

Caroline hoped, considering her situation, it wasn’t a trick question that would insult him and entrap her with her answer. “Yes.”

Cloud Chaser smiled. “It is good you are honest. Red Shields do not capture or trade for slaves, Indian or white. But we cannot refuse one as a gift from another band or tribe member; to do so would offend and wound the giver. You were captured and are being held here because you could be a threat to us if you told your people what you witnessed with the soldiers. We do not want the army to know Red Shields carried out that attack, but it was necessary for our protection and survival. Even if you promised not to do so, the soldier chief could force or trick the truth from you. We do not make you labor hard for us. Your chores are to earn you a place to live and eat.”

“I understand your motives and believe what you say, Cloud Chaser. It gave me great joy and pride to help Dewdrops with her baby, and I was honored by my inclusion in the Naming Ceremony and by Dewdrop’s gift to me. I view you and your family and most of your people as my friends. I wouldn’t do anything intentional to harm any of you. I don’t want revenge.”

“Not even on War Eagle who captured you and killed the soldiers?”

Caroline’s heart skipped a few beats at the unexpected mention of his name. “No, because I understand he had no other choice. I view him as a friend, but I do not know if he views me in the same way.”

“That is good, as I do not want you to hate my brother for doing his duty to us. But if you did, I would understand and forgive you.”

“That’s very kind of you, Cloud Chaser. How did you and your brothers get your names? You mentioned something one night about vision quests. How do they work?”
I want to know more about War Eagle and your band.

“I will tell you in a short time. First, I must speak with Dawn.”

I suppose she is wondering what we’re saying, especially since you behaved so oddly minutes ago.
“Tell her I’m trying harder to learn your language so I can talk with her. Friends should be able to communicate.”

He sensed that this was not the time to reveal his wife’s secret, but soon that secret must be told.

As the couple conversed for a while, Caroline could not help noticing the love shining in their eyes. It was evident to her that their bond was strong and deep. In her opinion, it was the same with Wind Dancer and Chumani. The brothers were lucky to have found and married such good women. And she was lucky that Dawn was not a jealous or insecure female, considering the amount of time her husband spent with another woman, a white woman, a young woman. Yes, she liked Cloud Chaser and thought he was handsome, but it was his younger brother who had stolen her heart. If only they were as perfectly matched as the other two couples were…

Cloud Chaser broke into her mental roamings when he was ready to speak, and she listened.

“I will tell you about vision quests now. From the time a
boy is old enough to understand such things, he is taught our customs, history, and laws by his father, grandfather, uncles, shaman, male relatives, and the old ones. He must learn them and obey and practice them. He is trained to hunt, ride, shoot, fight, and track in many ways, sometimes in games with other boys or with playthings. He must learn to show courage and wisdom, to know when to be patient or to act swiftly, to endure hardships, to suffer in silence when necessary, to protect and provide for his family and for others in great want. He must not risk injury or sacrifice his life foolishly, but he must fight to the death if need be. He must do and say nothing to stain his honor, or that of his family or of his people. When he has learned such things and is old enough, he goes into the hills alone after purifying himself in the sweat lodge. He must choose a high and open place beneath the sight of the Great Spirit. There, he fasts, prays, and chants until he is given a sacred vision. Sometimes it takes only a day or two, but it can take as many as four or five.”

As Cloud Chaser sipped water, an intrigued Caroline asked, “What if a vision doesn’t come or he gets too weak to continue?”

“It is better to die trying or not return to his people than to fail in his task. My first brother’s vision told Waci Tate he was to ‘dance with the wind;’ that means he is to live and ride in freedom, to challenge the powers and dangers of the unseen forces of nature and man, and to soar on its currents as a man above other men. He has done such deeds many times in the past; he has danced around our enemies, often like an unseen wind, and blown them away from our lands. He is a superior warrior and will be a great leader after our father is gone. My name, Mahpiya Yutokeca, means ‘to chase the clouds.’ I am meant to challenge the powers and dangers of the unseen forces of nature and man, which often lurk behind clouds of many sizes, kinds, and colors. I am to chase them away so I and my people can live in freedom and
pride. I did so many times last summer and will do so again when your people bring war to our lands.”

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