people.
Elaine reflected that evening, as she tasted horse meat for the first time in her life, that she had changed. She didn’t quail at tasting this flesh at all. She merely hoped that it would help the people recoup their strength.
The loss of a day’s travel worried her—it just gave those soldiers another day to get on the train and out to the Dull Knife crossing and intercept the Cheyennes. But she saw that the day’s rest did the people some good, especially the children. And she saw that everyone was cheered at the prospect of some beneficial medicine. Though she was glad for anything that raised their spirits, she wondered that their minds were not more on the menace of rifles and cannons. They really were children.
During the meal, Adam was a little too attentive to her—too many white smiles in his dark face, too many mischievous looks, too many affectionate touches. She wondered what surprise was coming. Probably Adam wondered, too, she reflected.
Calling Eagle waited until full dark to gather the people in a big circle. Adam and Elaine sat right in front. In silence Calling Eagle started the fires laid by Adam. She laid out on the ground a handsome breechcloth of dark blue trade cloth with a four-directions wheel quilled into its front in gold, light blue, and rose. Beside that she laid a cudgel. Elaine had seen the cudgel before. It was a bighorn ram’s horn pulled to three-foot length and ornamented with a brass head—a handsome piece, and heavy. It had belonged to her husband, Strikes Foot, and occupied an honored place in the lodge Calling Eagle and Lisette normally shared. Next to the cudgel Calling Eagle set a parfleche box, but Elaine couldn’t see what was in it.
“What’s she going to do?” whispered Elaine.
Adam said softly, “I don’t know.” He didn’t sound happy about it.
“I had a dream,” Calling Eagle began gently, crooning the words. Elaine got that phrase, and most others, but she had difficulty with some. Calling Eagle spoke in a ceremonial way, an elevated blend of speech, prayer, and song. She faced each cluster of people in turn, so that her back was sometimes to Elaine.
Elaine got the gist of it: Calling Eagle dreamed that she saw herself dead, on a scaffold, dressed as a warrior. Elaine felt a thrill—she had heard of woman warriors among the Indians. Maybe Calling Eagle would claim this rarest of stations.
The people knew that many years before, Calling Eagle chanted, the child Calling Eagle had seen herself as a hemaneh in a dream. That was a great calling to power. Calling Eagle repeated once more, and for the last time, she said, the song she had been given in that dream.
Elaine wished she knew what hemaneh meant.
So, the old woman continued in singsong speech, she had followed the way of the hemaneh all her life. She had lived with Strikes Foot—Elaine wasn’t getting all of this—she had gone on hunts and pony raids, she had sung certain songs, performed certain ceremonies for the benefit of the people, had lived in the way her vision showed her.
Now, in this time of trial for the people, the powers had sent her a new dream. Now she would live in a new way.
Elaine was fascinated—she felt goose-bumpy. Adam slipped a comforting arm around her. He seemed tense.
Now Medicine Wolf began to beat softly on his drum, and Calling Eagle began to sing, a song given her by a wolf in the dream, a song that spoke of the new way. And as she sang, turned sideways to Elaine, she walked close to the people on the west side of the circle and began to pull her dress up over her head.
The sight of bare flesh was rare among the Cheyennes, a modest people, and Elaine noticed that almost everyone sat with eyes averted. Elaine gritted her teeth, but she supposed all the people were as shocked as she was, and only religion could compel this behavior.
Soon Calling Eagle stood entirely naked, her ancient dugs the merest hints of breasts. As she sang, she took paints from
Elaine reflected that evening, as she tasted horse meat for the first time in her life, that she had changed. She didn’t quail at tasting this flesh at all. She merely hoped that it would help the people recoup their strength.
The loss of a day’s travel worried her—it just gave those soldiers another day to get on the train and out to the Dull Knife crossing and intercept the Cheyennes. But she saw that the day’s rest did the people some good, especially the children. And she saw that everyone was cheered at the prospect of some beneficial medicine. Though she was glad for anything that raised their spirits, she wondered that their minds were not more on the menace of rifles and cannons. They really were children.
During the meal, Adam was a little too attentive to her—too many white smiles in his dark face, too many mischievous looks, too many affectionate touches. She wondered what surprise was coming. Probably Adam wondered, too, she reflected.
Calling Eagle waited until full dark to gather the people in a big circle. Adam and Elaine sat right in front. In silence Calling Eagle started the fires laid by Adam. She laid out on the ground a handsome breechcloth of dark blue trade cloth with a four-directions wheel quilled into its front in gold, light blue, and rose. Beside that she laid a cudgel. Elaine had seen the cudgel before. It was a bighorn ram’s horn pulled to three-foot length and ornamented with a brass head—a handsome piece, and heavy. It had belonged to her husband, Strikes Foot, and occupied an honored place in the lodge Calling Eagle and Lisette normally shared. Next to the cudgel Calling Eagle set a parfleche box, but Elaine couldn’t see what was in it.
“What’s she going to do?” whispered Elaine.
Adam said softly, “I don’t know.” He didn’t sound happy about it.
“I had a dream,” Calling Eagle began gently, crooning the words. Elaine got that phrase, and most others, but she had difficulty with some. Calling Eagle spoke in a ceremonial way, an elevated blend of speech, prayer, and song. She faced each cluster of people in turn, so that her back was sometimes to Elaine.
Elaine got the gist of it: Calling Eagle dreamed that she saw herself dead, on a scaffold, dressed as a warrior. Elaine felt a thrill—she had heard of woman warriors among the Indians. Maybe Calling Eagle would claim this rarest of stations.
The people knew that many years before, Calling Eagle chanted, the child Calling Eagle had seen herself as a hemaneh in a dream. That was a great calling to power. Calling Eagle repeated once more, and for the last time, she said, the song she had been given in that dream.
Elaine wished she knew what hemaneh meant.
So, the old woman continued in singsong speech, she had followed the way of the hemaneh all her life. She had lived with Strikes Foot—Elaine wasn’t getting all of this—she had gone on hunts and pony raids, she had sung certain songs, performed certain ceremonies for the benefit of the people, had lived in the way her vision showed her.
Now, in this time of trial for the people, the powers had sent her a new dream. Now she would live in a new way.
Elaine was fascinated—she felt goose-bumpy. Adam slipped a comforting arm around her. He seemed tense.
Now Medicine Wolf began to beat softly on his drum, and Calling Eagle began to sing, a song given her by a wolf in the dream, a song that spoke of the new way. And as she sang, turned sideways to Elaine, she walked close to the people on the west side of the circle and began to pull her dress up over her head.
The sight of bare flesh was rare among the Cheyennes, a modest people, and Elaine noticed that almost everyone sat with eyes averted. Elaine gritted her teeth, but she supposed all the people were as shocked as she was, and only religion could compel this behavior.
Soon Calling Eagle stood entirely naked, her ancient dugs the merest hints of breasts. As she sang, she took paints from
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