The Elk-Dog Heritage by Don Coldsmith Page A

been a mere boy, eager to display his bravery, but too inexperienced to compete with hardened warriors. Even so, an older warrior testified, the youth had stood fast and shot an arrow which unhorsed his opponent.
    â€œI saw the Head Splitter fall, but I do not know if he was killed,” finished the man.
    â€œHow many Head Splitters were killed?” the chief asked.

    No one knew. Estimates ranged from three to seven, with a median figure probably most likely.
    â€œThere was one still alive,” a man related. “We found him hiding in the rocks and killed him.”
    Heads Off was furious. He would have wished to question the prisoner, to see how much the Head Splitters might know of their plight. He was also wondering if the attackers were of the band of Bull’s Tail. He had an accurate estimate of the size of that group.
    â€œLet us not kill prisoners before they are questioned!” The irritation in the chief’s tone was unmistakable.
    There was another factor here, too, understood but incompletely by the chief. Coyote had already observed it. Traditionally, the People were much likelier to adopt a prisoner than to kill him. Now, with the stress of internal strife and the threat of the enemy, the easy-going attitude of the People was changing. Their first thought was to lash out, to kill. Coyote hated to see this change come over the tribe. Almost, he thought, it was better when life was simpler, and we thought more of run-and-hide.
    The council continued. It was determined that everyone had a place at least for the night, and then Heads Off outlined plans.
    â€œWe have no more than twenty elk-dogs.”
    â€œNo, my chief!” interrupted Standing Bird. “Nearly thirty!”
    The elk-dog men had found several strays, including mares, foals, and animals once ridden by Head Splitters who had no further use for elk-dogs now.
    â€œIt is good,” Heads Off acknowledged, “but still, we cannot move camp without more elk-dogs.”
    A flurry of discussion followed. The People, it was noted, once moved entirely without elk-dogs, using only the power of their muscles and that of their dogs.

    â€œThat is true,” observed Coyote, “but it was before the elk-dog. We now have bigger lodges, and longer poles. Dogs and people cannot move the lodges we now have.”
    â€œBut, the biggest were burned!” someone insisted.
    â€œMy chief,” interjected the medicine man, “there is a wintering place that the People used long ago, not more than three suns away. We should be able to move that far. We also need food. There are deer in the woods, and nuts among the trees. It would be better for the winter than this place.”
    There were nods of assent. Others remembered the location, now unused for many seasons. Under Hump Ribs, the previous chief, the band had migrated farther south to winter. In addition, they had become more dependent on the buffalo in recent years. With the advent of elk-dog hunting methods, buffalo were more accessible. No one ate dog meat now except by choice, and rabbits and squirrels were hunted mostly by the youngsters.
    Now, it seemed advisable to revive some of the old ways. In fact, this might be the only answer for the band. Ultimately, it was decided to spend another day in salvage and burial, and then make the move on the following morning.
    It was a ragtag remnant of the proud Elk-dog band that straggled out onto the prairie two suns later. Heads Off had insisted on mounted warriors flanking the column. Yet at the same time, the strength of the men was needed to drag and carry. Stops were frequent and progress slow.
    Tall One insisted on walking part of the time, carrying small Owl. Frequently, however, she consented at the urging of her husband, to ride for a time on a pole-drag behind one of the horses.
    There was a time of fear when one of the outriders sighted a mounted warrior watching from a distant hill. No further