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

surprise cross the soldier chief’s face.
    The hairy-faced Cut-Off Arm asked, “What do you mean?”
    â€œWe know they are already in the Wallowa, ready to attack my people.”
    The soldier chief shook his head, waving his one hand. “No, no. There will be no attack on your camps. My soldiers have gone to the Wallowa only to help bring your people here as soon as you can get them under way. And those soldiers are there to help protect your people from angry settlers if there is trouble.”
    Bolting to his feet, Toohoolhoolzote grumbled, “There is not a shred of truth in what you say! Already the white man has taken what was not his in the Wallowa. And now the soldiers have come to take away more of what my Creator never intended the white man to have!”
    â€œDon’t you understand that the majority of your people signed the treaty?” the agent protested.
    Toohoolhoolzote, leader of the small Pikunan band that wandered the area between the Salmon and Snake rivers, took a step forward, his thick neck tortoised into those powerful shoulders to give him an even more intimidating appearance. “You must stay off the land Tamalait gave us long ago. Take all that belongs to you and go away, now! The earth is my mother, and she must not be disturbed by your plow and hoe. For generations my people have lived just the way our Creator made us, surviving only on what grows in the forest, the animals in these hills. This has always been our land. Soon there will be a great reckoning for those who would use violence to take from us what has always been ours!”
    â€œThis matter has been decided,” Monteith said as calmly as he could. “The majority of the Nez Perce signed the treaty.”
    But Toohoolhoolzote shook his head vigorously, loudly protesting, “Lawyer’s people had no right to do that! Tamalait made us chieftains over the earth, to care for it, protect it. That chieftainship cannot be sold, nor can it be given away. You white leaders must accept that we are all chieftains of the earth.”
    Cut-Off Arm slapped his left thigh with his one hand, clearly growing agitated at how the arguments of this persuasive orator were stirring up those Nee-Me-Poo spectators ringing the council’s awning. “I told you already: I do not intend to interfere with your religion. So it is time to stop all this talk and get on to practical matters. Twenty times over you tell me the earth is your mother, and twenty times over you tell me about being a chieftain over the earth. I want to hear no more of such talk! You must come to business at once!”
    How the soldier chief’s words slapped the old tewat, stinging his pride.
    Joseph grew saddened, beginning to realize that perhaps the white man and the soldiers did not really want to listen to the complaints of his people in these council talks. Instead, he was coming to believe that Cut-Off Arm and the others were here only to convince Joseph and the others that they were being listened to.
    Toohoolhoolzote’s eyes were like the slits of a prairie rattler in those moments before it attacked. Flecks of foam collected at the corners of his angry mouth. “What the Treaty bands talk about is born of today. Their Christian beliefs aren’t the true law at all! You white people get together, measure the earth back and forth with your ropes and poles, then divide it among yourselves! Yes—I agree with you, Cut-Off Arm: we should talk about practical matters.”
    He drew a deep breath, then continued, “So I want you to tell me exactly what you mean for me to do now that you are moving soldiers into my country to frighten my people.”
    But the agent stepped to the soldier chief’s side and spoke first: “The law says that you must come to this reservation. That law is made in Washington. We did not make this law, but we must enforce it.”
    Jabbing a finger at the agent, Toohoolhoolzote