when you needed truly to act like a Lakota. He had done that. It felt good. He liked the feeling, being one of the people.
Spotted Tail was shot in two places and saber-cut in two others. His wounds looked scary, but his spirits were martial.
“I’m not whipped,” he said. “Tomorrow or the next day I’m going to kill soldiers.”
Curly heard that gruff tone and looked into the face of his genial uncle and swallowed hard. Spotted Tail was grizzly-bear furious. The soldiers had hurt the bear just enough to enrage it.
His story was appalling. White Beard had come up with the troops and said he wanted to parley. In the talk he had demanded that Little Thunder give up everyone who had helped kill Grattan and his men.
“This cannot be done,” Little Thunder had explained. “The Mniconjou who killed the cow has gone back to his village in the north.
“Of the Sicangu,” Little Thunder had gone on, “who could say who the fighters were? The soldiers came right into camp, shot Bear-Scattering, and the fighting was hand-to-hand. Every decent man defended his lodge.” Sometimes you really did have to explain to the wasicu like children.
“I have always wanted peace, still want peace. I offered to pay for the cow. But when soldiers came straight into camp and started killing people …” Little Thunder shrugged.
White Beard answered with roars and accusations.
Before long Little Thunder, Spotted Tail, and the other Sicangu in the parley realized the soldier chief only wanted to fight, so they left. Halfway back to the people, they saw that they’d been tricked. White Beard had used the parleying time to get his men into position for a trap.
The first charge came even before the peace talkers could get back to their lodges. Spotted Tail had to fight empty-handed.
The wounded man managed a grin. “I took a sword away from a horseback and started knocking heads,” he croaked.
Sweetwater Woman chimed in, “He knocked thirteen soldiers off their horses. I saw.”
A look passed between the man and the woman. Sweetwater Woman was lovely, and the two were very much attracted to each other, a love match.
It had been the second love match among Spotted Tail’s wives. Everyone knew the story. The young Spotted Tail had courted Spoon, the eldest sister, and she had wanted him. But Spoon’s parents had promisedher to an older man. Finally the two suitors had argued and then set to fighting with knives. Spotted Tail killed his rival and claimed his woman.
Parents decided on husbands for their daughters, and that was good. But once in a while, when a young warrior was filled with passion, when he was willing to throw his life away for a woman … Then the people smiled at each other and envied the young couple.
And now Spotted Tail, a mature man more than thirty winters old, an admired leader in war, had his heart made young a second time by Spoon’s sister. It made the camp’s other wives titter.
“Yes, woman,” he said in half-reproof, “I lent you my horse, but you stayed and made the trilling.”
Curly saw what mixed feelings were in that comment, what pride and grief.
Spotted Tail’s sits-beside-him wife, his daughter, and his mother were being marched away, no one knew where.
Even talking to Curly was a pretense. Spotted Tail and Sweetwater Woman’s hearts were with the prisoners. They knew what happened to captives. The Lakota’s enemies had taken captives for centuries. They kept the women for breeding and tortured the men with exquisite deliberation until they died. The Pani even made human sacrifices of the girls.
Last night, Spotted Tail said, the men had tried to hold off the soldiers while the women escaped up the creek with the lodges, but many women had been killed or captured. Little Thunder and Spotted Tail had been wounded, and many more.
There were maybe eighty captives, And probably a hundred people dead, many of them women and children.
Curly saw his uncle’s eyes wander to the
Spotted Tail was shot in two places and saber-cut in two others. His wounds looked scary, but his spirits were martial.
“I’m not whipped,” he said. “Tomorrow or the next day I’m going to kill soldiers.”
Curly heard that gruff tone and looked into the face of his genial uncle and swallowed hard. Spotted Tail was grizzly-bear furious. The soldiers had hurt the bear just enough to enrage it.
His story was appalling. White Beard had come up with the troops and said he wanted to parley. In the talk he had demanded that Little Thunder give up everyone who had helped kill Grattan and his men.
“This cannot be done,” Little Thunder had explained. “The Mniconjou who killed the cow has gone back to his village in the north.
“Of the Sicangu,” Little Thunder had gone on, “who could say who the fighters were? The soldiers came right into camp, shot Bear-Scattering, and the fighting was hand-to-hand. Every decent man defended his lodge.” Sometimes you really did have to explain to the wasicu like children.
“I have always wanted peace, still want peace. I offered to pay for the cow. But when soldiers came straight into camp and started killing people …” Little Thunder shrugged.
White Beard answered with roars and accusations.
Before long Little Thunder, Spotted Tail, and the other Sicangu in the parley realized the soldier chief only wanted to fight, so they left. Halfway back to the people, they saw that they’d been tricked. White Beard had used the parleying time to get his men into position for a trap.
The first charge came even before the peace talkers could get back to their lodges. Spotted Tail had to fight empty-handed.
The wounded man managed a grin. “I took a sword away from a horseback and started knocking heads,” he croaked.
Sweetwater Woman chimed in, “He knocked thirteen soldiers off their horses. I saw.”
A look passed between the man and the woman. Sweetwater Woman was lovely, and the two were very much attracted to each other, a love match.
It had been the second love match among Spotted Tail’s wives. Everyone knew the story. The young Spotted Tail had courted Spoon, the eldest sister, and she had wanted him. But Spoon’s parents had promisedher to an older man. Finally the two suitors had argued and then set to fighting with knives. Spotted Tail killed his rival and claimed his woman.
Parents decided on husbands for their daughters, and that was good. But once in a while, when a young warrior was filled with passion, when he was willing to throw his life away for a woman … Then the people smiled at each other and envied the young couple.
And now Spotted Tail, a mature man more than thirty winters old, an admired leader in war, had his heart made young a second time by Spoon’s sister. It made the camp’s other wives titter.
“Yes, woman,” he said in half-reproof, “I lent you my horse, but you stayed and made the trilling.”
Curly saw what mixed feelings were in that comment, what pride and grief.
Spotted Tail’s sits-beside-him wife, his daughter, and his mother were being marched away, no one knew where.
Even talking to Curly was a pretense. Spotted Tail and Sweetwater Woman’s hearts were with the prisoners. They knew what happened to captives. The Lakota’s enemies had taken captives for centuries. They kept the women for breeding and tortured the men with exquisite deliberation until they died. The Pani even made human sacrifices of the girls.
Last night, Spotted Tail said, the men had tried to hold off the soldiers while the women escaped up the creek with the lodges, but many women had been killed or captured. Little Thunder and Spotted Tail had been wounded, and many more.
There were maybe eighty captives, And probably a hundred people dead, many of them women and children.
Curly saw his uncle’s eyes wander to the
Similar Books
