Read Online Cries from the Earth by Terry C. Johnston - Free Book Online

bring back.”
    â€œThe Boston Man’s Book of Heaven means nothing to our Dreamer religion,” snarled Toohoolhoolzote. “It is true the Shadows may have those things, but we Dreamers believe that one day the earth will swallow up all the Shadows and everything will be as it was before the first whites ever came among us.”
    â€œUntil that day,” Joseph sighed, “we must somehow protect our people—safeguard our women and our children. For the time being, we must make as good a peace as we can … for the sake of those who must survive until the Dreamers’ vision comes to pass and the earth finally swallows up the white man.”
    Later, after breakfast, the leaders dressed in their finest, adorning their ponies with the heavily beaded headstalls and feathered bonnets much like those the headmen themselves wore. Wrapped in blankets and buffalo robes, they paraded onto the fort grounds in a long procession, singing and beating their drums, the women u-looing afoot on either side of the chiefs’ caravan as they approached the council awning for this last, crucial day of talks with Cut-Off Arm and his soldiers.
    As soon as the half-breed interpreter said his Christian prayer to open the ceremonies, the old men started their pipe on its rounds among the chiefs and headmen. For the most part the white men were quiet and respectful until the pipe had finished its path among the leaders of the Non-Treaty bands. Yet Joseph could clearly see that disdain the agent held for the practices of his Nee-Me-Poo.
    â€œOne of the things I fear most about being forced to come live in this place is that I worry about what will happen next to my people,” Joseph explained as he stood before the agent, the missionary, and the soldier chief in the shade of the council tent.
    â€œOnly good can come of you bringing your people here,” Agent John B. Monteith asserted.
    With a wag of his head, Joseph argued, “Once we are here, you will try to make us like the upper bands who are under the spell of your Christian missionaries.”
    â€œWhat do you mean by that?” Perrin Whitman demanded from the side. He knew the language and did not require an interpreter.
    â€œWe are afraid you just don’t merely want us to abandon our long-held tribal lands,” Joseph declared firmly. “We believe that once we have come here, you will do everything in your power to make us into Christian Indians like those you already have here at the agency … the ones who have cut their hair like a white man, wearing the white man’s clothes, reading and believing the white man’s religion.”
    The agent shook his head, arguing, “You have evidently gotten the wrong impression, Joseph. We do not want to interfere with your religious rites. There will be no restraint of religion here on your reservation while I am in charge.” Monteith tore his eyes off the young chief and glanced a moment at the older Toohoolhoolzote. “Only when one of your tewats disturbs the peace with too much drumming and too much savage zeal will I forbid those extreme practices.”
    Cut-Off Arm was already standing in front of his chair, ready to speak his mind as soon as the agent finished. “It makes no difference what church a bad leader belongs to. White or Indian. Dreamer or Christian. If one of your religious men gives bad advice to your people, advice that causes disobedience to the requirements of the agent or the army … then that leader will have to be punished and taken away to Indian Territory.”
    â€œBut what of the women and children?” Joseph asked. “Must they be punished for the sins of the men?”
    â€œNo one is going to punish any of your people if you peacefully come to this reservation as my government tells you to.”
    â€œI think you are already preparing to punish my people in the Wallowa,” Joseph announced, and watched the