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Authors: Janelle Taylor
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slayed to go inside it for good luck. You gave me a red stone chipped from the sacred pipe Father was making and said it was a gift from him for my medicine pouch. I walked in your shadow on many suns. Long ago, you taught me many things and protected me from harm; now, you speak and walk in circles I do not understand and I cannot follow your lead.”
Wind Dancer’s heart was touched by those remembrances, for they were special things only his brother could know. But had Cloud Chaser mentioned them only to trick him? “I am a Strong Heart, Shirt-Wearer, and next chief. My greatest duty is to my people. I must say and do what is best for them. Once you have proven yourself to us, I will speak to you of what lives in my heart and mind.”
“That is good, fair, and wise, my brother,” but you’re being evasive and wary with me. Something’s afoot, because you’re looking and acting odd. I guess I’ll know soon enough what you’re up to today. As they rode into the edge of the vast Plains, Chase sought to continue their talk. “The Whites know your name and prowess well, as they do our father’s,” he said. “You will be a great and powerful chief when our father walks the Ghost Trail.”
Wind Dancer nodded gratitude as his keen gaze scanned the terrain before them. The landscape was a mixture of rolling hills, near-flat spans, scattered evergreen groves or singular trees and bushes, various grasses, and ample wildflowers. Behind them were the forested foothills and black rock formations of the sprawling Paha Sapa, and War Eagle’s trailing party. Wind Dancer did not head for totally open ground, which would not provide the group places to conceal themselves. He also made sure he did not raise his left arm for any reason, since that would signal his youngest brother to rush to his aid. “In the seasons yet to come, I will seek to make your words true, Cloud Chaser, if I and my people survive the white man’s greed and encroachment.”
“You and they will survive, Wind Dancer, if you do notbreak the treaty and you try to live in peace with the soldiers and settlers.”
“The treaty has been broken, Cloud Chaser, but by the Whites, for their leaders have not honored their words to us and others.”
“How do you know that is true, Wind Dancer, if you cannot read the white man’s words upon the treaty papers?”
“I know, for their words at Long Meadows do not match their actions since that sun.”
As they topped a rolling hill, Wind Dancer sighted three Crow braves riding at its base, who halted in a hurry and looked at him warily. Many courses of response flashed across his mind. He knew what he wanted to do: attack and defeat them for their many evil deeds against his and other Lakota bands. That was what he had been taught and trained to do since birth and what he and his beloved wife had done with glorious success three summers past; but things had changed with the treaty’s warning of lethal retaliation by soldiers. He decided, as a high-ranking leader and future chief, he must not spark a war which could flame into a roaring and destructive wildfire and engulf his people.
Wind Dancer scowled in disappointment as he noted his enemies’ despicable sneers. He headed toward them, with Cloud Chaser following to his rear. He reined in and asked in Crow, “Why do you encroach on Lakota land? It is forbidden by the Long Meadows Treaty, which your people signed. Do you seek to call down the Bluecoats on your tribe?”
The leader responded in his foe’s language. “Long before Lakotas came from far beyond the big muddy waters, this was Apsaalooke land and will be Apsaalooke territory again one day. We ride to visit our allies the Pawnee beyond the Platte River. You forget, Wind Dancer of the Red Shields, the treaty says we can ride across and hunt on this land as we have done since before your people were born. It will not help you to make friends with a few white men, for Bluecoats and Whites hate
Wind Dancer’s heart was touched by those remembrances, for they were special things only his brother could know. But had Cloud Chaser mentioned them only to trick him? “I am a Strong Heart, Shirt-Wearer, and next chief. My greatest duty is to my people. I must say and do what is best for them. Once you have proven yourself to us, I will speak to you of what lives in my heart and mind.”
“That is good, fair, and wise, my brother,” but you’re being evasive and wary with me. Something’s afoot, because you’re looking and acting odd. I guess I’ll know soon enough what you’re up to today. As they rode into the edge of the vast Plains, Chase sought to continue their talk. “The Whites know your name and prowess well, as they do our father’s,” he said. “You will be a great and powerful chief when our father walks the Ghost Trail.”
Wind Dancer nodded gratitude as his keen gaze scanned the terrain before them. The landscape was a mixture of rolling hills, near-flat spans, scattered evergreen groves or singular trees and bushes, various grasses, and ample wildflowers. Behind them were the forested foothills and black rock formations of the sprawling Paha Sapa, and War Eagle’s trailing party. Wind Dancer did not head for totally open ground, which would not provide the group places to conceal themselves. He also made sure he did not raise his left arm for any reason, since that would signal his youngest brother to rush to his aid. “In the seasons yet to come, I will seek to make your words true, Cloud Chaser, if I and my people survive the white man’s greed and encroachment.”
“You and they will survive, Wind Dancer, if you do notbreak the treaty and you try to live in peace with the soldiers and settlers.”
“The treaty has been broken, Cloud Chaser, but by the Whites, for their leaders have not honored their words to us and others.”
“How do you know that is true, Wind Dancer, if you cannot read the white man’s words upon the treaty papers?”
“I know, for their words at Long Meadows do not match their actions since that sun.”
As they topped a rolling hill, Wind Dancer sighted three Crow braves riding at its base, who halted in a hurry and looked at him warily. Many courses of response flashed across his mind. He knew what he wanted to do: attack and defeat them for their many evil deeds against his and other Lakota bands. That was what he had been taught and trained to do since birth and what he and his beloved wife had done with glorious success three summers past; but things had changed with the treaty’s warning of lethal retaliation by soldiers. He decided, as a high-ranking leader and future chief, he must not spark a war which could flame into a roaring and destructive wildfire and engulf his people.
Wind Dancer scowled in disappointment as he noted his enemies’ despicable sneers. He headed toward them, with Cloud Chaser following to his rear. He reined in and asked in Crow, “Why do you encroach on Lakota land? It is forbidden by the Long Meadows Treaty, which your people signed. Do you seek to call down the Bluecoats on your tribe?”
The leader responded in his foe’s language. “Long before Lakotas came from far beyond the big muddy waters, this was Apsaalooke land and will be Apsaalooke territory again one day. We ride to visit our allies the Pawnee beyond the Platte River. You forget, Wind Dancer of the Red Shields, the treaty says we can ride across and hunt on this land as we have done since before your people were born. It will not help you to make friends with a few white men, for Bluecoats and Whites hate
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