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Authors: Janelle Taylor

BOOK: Lakota Flower
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War Eagle raised Caroline’s hand to his lips and kissed it before he used his cheek to stroke its back, which caused her to smile and to sigh in contentment. He savored their contact, this stolen time, her glowing gaze, her acceptance of him. He leaned forward and whispered into her ear, “My heart beats with love for you, Heart Flower. When the Great Spirit clears our path one sun, will you join to me?”

Caroline leaned away slightly so she could look into his eyes. His dark brown gaze was tender and evocative; his seductive smile, enticing. Yes, she had heard him declare his love and propose to her, and he was serious. She freed her fingers and clasped his head between her hands so she could draw it close to whisper for his ears alone, “I love you, Wanbli, and yearn to become your wife. What if your family and people refuse to allow our union?”

With their lowered foreheads touching, he told her, “The sun will rise when they learn you have been chosen for me by the Creator. Seven suns past, Grandfather told me of a sacred dream he had.” He related the wise man’s words to him in the forest and their ensuing talk.

Whether or not, Caroline reasoned, the shaman possessed genuine mystical and prophetic abilities, Nahemana believed it was true, as did War Eagle, as did his people. She
did not doubt such powers existed in holy men, as the Bible was filled with stories about them. She was delighted the shaman approved of her and would help her. “I wonder what challenges lie ahead for me, for us. I do not want to leave you. Do you think the snow and ice mean we will join this winter?”

“I do not know, Heart Flower, but I hope that is true.”

“When did you know you loved and desired me?” she asked.

“I think it was the first time I looked into your sky eyes and heard your voice. It was as if my heart opened up and you walked inside it.”

“Long ago, before I came to your land, I dreamed of you. I could not see your face, for your back was to me. But your hair was long and black and your skin was this color,” she murmured as she touched his hand.

“Before Cloud Chaser returned to us, he dreamed of Dawn. Perhaps your dream of me is why I did not frighten you much, though you have big courage and many wits,” he said, smiling at her before he kissed her.

Caroline returned the kiss: then they shared several more before the time came for him to leave, too soon to suit her.

“I must go, for it is late. Father and Mother will wonder what halts my return. Until we are one, we must be careful with our looks and actions as Grandfather warned, for we must not injure the Great Spirit’s plan for us.”

“That is true, but it will be hard to hide my love and to avoid you. Much harder now that I know you feel as I do.”

He nodded in agreement. “I love you, Heart Flower, and we will become as one on a future moon. You will be mine forever. Now, I must go.”

Caroline stood with him, looked into his eyes one last time, kissed him, and said, “I love you and will wait for you to become my husband.”

War Eagle thanked Macha before he unlaced the flap, glanced at Caroline and smiled, then slipped into the darkness.

Caroline relaced the flap and told Macha, “Thank you, my good friend, for my heart is filled with joy and my spirit soars as my love’s namesake.”

Macha smiled and said, “Sleep now and have good dreams of him, as I will have of my husband. I pray he is safe and will return soon.”

“Do not fear or worry, Dawn, for he is brave, cunning, and skilled.”

Five nights later and about forty miles away, those skills failed Cloud Chaser as he took an enormous and daring risk to steal the map of Lakota camps and was captured…

Chapter Eighteen

Cloud Chaser sat bound to a tree near the Cheyenne River. He had traveled and talked with the soldiers from Fort Laramie to the headwaters of the White River and journeyed along its bank to the Badlands, which were cut into the surrounding grasslands. In a narrow center section between two larger areas of rugged mudstone ridges, buttes, and spires amidst canyons and ravines, they had crossed the river to ride northeast beside it, then switched to the Bad River to follow it to Fort Pierre. Being close to home and his beloved wife, he had gotten too eager to finish his task. After dark, when the fatigued troops had taken to their bedrolls and while guards were posted at intervals around the perimeter of the encampment, he had sneaked into Harney’s tent to steal a Crow-made map of the Lakotas’ winter camps. Unfortunately, the general had proven to be a light sleeper.

Since the Red Shields surely had moved their camp by now and were concealed within the Paha Sapa’s interior, a dark mountain range within sight on the western horizon during the day, he should have slipped away and returned home. He recalled that along their route, Indians in all camps they had encountered had vowed they were honoring the
peace treaty and had proven—with searches—that they harbored no “escapees” or “hostiles.” To Cloud Chaser’s surprise, Harney had not attacked a single village so far. The now-feared white war chief—The Butcher—had simply intimidated their inhabitants with his show of force, twelve hundred strong and armed with superior weapons. Harney had warned all bands that any display of aggression would be dealt with promptly and lethally, and the Indians believed him, aware of the Blue Water Creek Massacre nine weeks ago.

Now, Cloud Chaser fretted as he raged against the tight bonds; he feared and dreaded that the scouts would find the Red Shields’ tracks and pursue them into the Black Hills, and take their move as a sign of guilt and a need to hide from him. Also, there was a possible threat to the remaining camps of allies or any hunting parties that Harney encountered from this point onward to his destination.

He had failed, Cloud Chaser admitted, and here he sat, secured by ropes and waiting to be sent to Fort Leavenworth via Kearny tomorrow to be jailed. Unless he escaped, which would be difficult when surrounded by a troop of twenty soldiers, men ordered to be alert for problems. He was to be escorted under guard along the same trail they had taken to this location, as Harney felt it was safer and faster not to travel overland, which was the shortest route. Yet, they were not to stop at Fort Laramie.

To make matters worse, he had drawn David Sims into his trouble. David had attempted to sneak over and free him and had been caught. Now, Caroline’s brother—who was being held captive in another area—faced an impending trial and prison. He recalled how a cunning David had tried to convince Harney—who was irritated at having his rest interrupted twice tonight—he was only trying to release him in exchange for helping to find and rescue his sister who vanished months ago while en route to join him. The sad tale had not affected Harney’s decision. How, Cloud Chaser worried, was he going to get out of this?

He came to full alert and listened again, closer that time. Yes, it was a Red Shield signal in the form of a certain birdcall. But how did they know he had … No doubt, he reasoned in elation, Nahemana had been enlightened to his imminent trouble in a vision and the shaman had sent scouts to check on him. He had to get a message to whoever was out there, and not far away. Thankfully, Harney had chosen to have him secured to a large tree near the river, placing him at the boundary of the large encampment, though two guards were nearby.

Cloud Chaser lowered his head and pretended to chant softly as he revealed the grim news to one of his fellow warriors on the other bank. He did his task with haste and finished relating the needed information just as one of the guards kicked the bottom of his boot and ordered him to be quiet or he would gag him. He looked at the scowling soldier and said, “It is a Pawnee Death Chant, for I will be hanged when I reach Fort Leavenworth. I must prepare my spirit to join the Creator when that day comes soon.”

“Well, think that Injun talk, mister, but keep your mouth shut. The others are sleeping and you’ll wake ‘em. If it was me giving orders instead of the general, I’d had you shot tonight for turning against your own kind.”

“Shot for only trying to prevent a bloody and unnecessary war?” Cloud Chaser scoffed. “Shot for trying to save lives on both sides, including yours? Shot for trying to stop this territory from becoming a fierce battleground for years? If General Harney attacks any innocent camps, and most of them aren’t to blame for what’s been going on here, every tribe in this area will band together and swarm down on you boys to retaliate for such an injustice. By the time you realize the Indians are there, you’ll be surrounded by thousands of skilled warriors who know how to fight on this kind of terrain. You won’t have time to ready and use those cannons or long-range rifles before at least half of you are dead, or wish you were. You’re lucky they haven’t united against you
already after you pulled that sneak attack near Ash Hollow and murdered so many Brules, most of them women and children and old people, even babies. There isn’t any honor in or cause for committing such atrocities.”

“You mean like the massacre of Grattan and his unit?” Cloud Chaser exhaled and shook his head in mute scolding. “It’s a shame you men don’t know the truth about that incident and a lot of others the Indians have been falsely accused of doing. Grattan attacked a friendly camp and killed the head chief of all Lakotas, all because an emigrant’s cow wandered into their camp, was slaughtered, and eaten. As I told Harney, I figured if he lost his map, he’d head on to Fort Pierre and stop this foolish challenge in every camp. I tried to tell him the Indians had settled down for the winter, so it’s rash to ride around provoking and insulting them. I live and trap in this territory like a lot of other white men, and a lot of settlers pass through here, and you are endangering all of us.”

“The Injuns have to be punished for that massacre and other stuff.”

“Punished for trying to protect their lives and lands?”

“That ain’t how the general and others see it.”

“I know, and that’s the stupidity and tragedy of the situation. A lot of people on both sides are going to die when a truce is possible if the Indians are treated fairly and honorably. They don’t want to war with the whites, but they’ll be forced to do just that if Harney continues with his plans to humiliate and conquer them and to punish innocents for the wrongdoings of renegades or acts committed by white gangs dressed as Indians.”

“White men raiding as Injuns? That’s pure nonsense. Hush up now and git to sleep. I ain’t listening to no more crap.”

Cloud Chaser surmised that the truth was getting through to the man and troubling him, though he was resisting it. “Do as you please, soldier; stay ignorant and keep on murdering
Indians and see what happens.” He saw the soldier scowl and grit his teeth, then put a short distance between them. He leaned his head against the tree, hoping to sleep and dream of Macha.

By sunrise, Bent Bow entered the Red Shield camp, weary, hungry, thirsty, and worried about his good friend who was in big trouble far away. He had ridden for most of the night, changing horses at each scouting point, as he felt he must be the one to relate the bad news to the chief and council. He dismounted and rushed to Rising Bear’s tepee where he called out to be allowed to enter and speak about an important matter.

War Eagle, along with his parents and sister, stared at the agitated brave who hurried inside as soon as they were aroused from slumber and permission was granted to join them. “What is wrong, my friend?”

“Cloud Chaser and Wahcawi’s brother have been captured by the white war chief. They are to be sent to a fort far away and be punished. Soldiers are to leave with them on this sun from where they camp on the river near the Badlands.”

“How did you learn such things?” Rising Bear asked in dread.

Bent Bow told them what he had witnessed with the field glasses and the sly message that Cloud Chaser had passed to him after he had sneaked close to where he was bound to a tree and signaled him with a birdcall. “Soldiers guarded him, so I could not free him. We must go after them and save my friend. I will help challenge the soldiers for his return.”

Rising Bear reasoned in dismay, “If I send a large party of warriors to rescue my son, our camp force will be greatly weakened when the enemy is nearby with powerful weapons and many soldiers.”

“Twenty will ride as guards on their journey,” Bent Bow revealed in anxiety. “If you send only ten warriors, that will
be two targets each, an easy defeat using stealth; and it will not lower our camp defense too much.”

War Eagle injected, “Bent Bow speaks wisely and cunningly, Father. We must save Cloud Chaser and Wahcawi’s brother, for he is a good white man.”

“How will you take the soldiers by surprise, my son? For they will be on alert for trouble. I cannot lose two sons to the enemy.”

War Eagle said, “We will think of a cunning plan while we ride toward them. We will not risk our lives if a rescue endangers us.”

Rising Bear took a deep breath and asked, “Who will ride with you?”

“Bent Bow, Swift Otter, Broken Lance, River’s Edge, Red Feather, Black Wolf, Yellow Tree, Calls-the-Buffalo, and Tall Mountain.”

“You choose three of our four Sacred Bow Carriers?”

“If trouble comes to our camp, Broken Arrow will ride at our war chief’s side, as will Wind Dancer. I need good bow men to find victory since our number will be smaller than our enemy’s. Do you wish me to leave my society brothers behind and choose others to ride with me?”

“No, my son, you have picked wisely. We must summon your brother and our men to reveal this dark news to them.”

“I will go speak with Dawn, for she should hear these words from me and not before the presence of others, as it will bring fear to her heart and tears to her eyes,”
as it will with my love.
“Bent Bow will summon the others while you go tell Wind Dancer what has happened. Mother, will you prepare food and water and my sleeping mat for my journey while we talk?”

“Such things will be ready for your departure,” Winona responded, her heart thudding in fear and her thoughts panicked for her youngest son.

A short time later in Cloud Chaser’s tepee, War Eagle related the grim facts and his impending actions to the two
women, who looked shocked and frightened. “Do not worry, for we will return soon with them.”

“What did they do to be captured and punished?” Caroline asked.

“I do not know, for Cloud Chaser did not tell Bent Bow. We will learn that deed from their lips after we take them from the soldiers.”

“They will be expecting a rescue attempt, so how can you surprise them and succeed? You could be injured badly or slain.”

War Eagle caressed Caroline’s flushed cheek and said, “The Great Spirit will show us how to save them. We will be careful.”

“I can help carry out a surprise raid. I can—”

War Eagle touched his forefinger to her lips and said, “You are not a warrior, Heart Flower, so you cannot challenge the soldiers. You must stay here and wait for me, for I will return to you.”

Caroline grasped his hand and lowered it. “Hear my words, my love. If the soldiers sight an injured white woman on the road, they will halt to tend and assist her. While they are distracted by me, your party can surround them. You can choose a location where rocks are near the road, then leap upon them from hiding.”

“What if you do not trick the soldiers and they capture you? I cannot endanger your life, for mine would be sad without you to share it.”

Caroline was warmed and touched by his concern and love, but time was short. “If I am dirty, my dress is torn, and I have injuries you can place upon my face and body, they will be tricked. I will tell them I was attacked by white men dressed as Indians or by Crow or Pawnee, but I escaped. While they tend me and we speak, their senses will be dulled.”

War Eagle was moved and impressed by her cunning and her brave offer, but he could not allow her to take such a
large risk, one with a big flaw. “Your brother will know you and will shout your name.”

“Not if he is held captive in the middle or to the rear of their group and my face is turned away from them. I can cover my yellow hair with my sunbonnet. Before David knows it is me, you can entrap the soldiers and disable them. Do not forget your grandfather’s sacred dream. I am to go far away and face more challenges. Does this evil time not match his words?”

War Eagle gazed at her as he considered her suggestion and reminder. Perhaps she was right. “We will go speak with Father, Grandfather, and the council. If they think your plan is good, you will come with us. If they vote against it, you must remain here and wait for me. Do you agree?”

Caroline smiled and nodded that she would obey him.

“But it is dangerous, Wahcawi,” Macha fretted in alarm.

Caroline grasped her hand, looked at her, and said, “I must help save my brother and your husband, who is my friend. While we are gone, pray we will find victory. I must do this deed for both of us.”

“I will pray on every sun and moon. Thank you, my friend. May the Great Spirit ride with you, guide you, protect you, and return you to us.”

Following the council meeting and together in Cloud Chaser’s tepee, War Eagle grimaced time and time again in empathy and emotional torment as he pinched and struck Caroline, who winced but did not scream or ask him to halt his necessary infliction upon her for their pretense. Both, as well as the others, knew her injuries could not be fresh ones when they reached their destination, so aging them forced the reluctant man to do the arduous task before their departure to prevent suspicion and peril later. She had donned a torn dress that she had rubbed on the ground first to get it filthy. She had sprinkled dirt on her head and worked it into
her hair, already made oily with animal fat. A leather thong was placed around her neck and wriggled back and forth to make marks upon her pale skin; the same was done to her wrists, to imply she had been bound, a captive.

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