Part 11
“I ran down the hill and told the others; for High Horse was there by now and he had not seen anything. So we rode on up the valley until we came to the gulch I saw, and there we waited in some brush. The sun was under a hill and there were shadows. We waited, and it was getting dark. We waited, and moonlight was beginning to show over the hill ahead of us. When the moon looked over into our valley, High Horse said, ‘Let us go in now.’ And Kicking Bear said, ‘Cousins, we must wait until the village is asleep and the horse-guards are nodding. That is what we are going to do.’ And I said, ‘Yes, we will do that.’ And Charging Cat said, ‘I could eat the hump of a fat bison cow.’ And I said, ‘The four of us could eat the cow.’ And High Horse said, ‘We can eat tomorrow when we are far away with all those horses.’ And Kicking Bear said, ‘We are men, and that is what we can do.’
“The moon was high, and we waited. Sometimes one would fall asleep and the others would wake him. The moon was above us, and we waited. It was starting down, and we waited. It was halfway down, and Kicking Bear said, ‘Cousins, they are sleeping hard and the horse-guards will be nodding. Eagle Voice has seen, and he will lead the way. Remember the vow and have strong hearts. Nothing lasts but the hills.’ Then High Horse said to me, ‘Brother, if you die in there tonight, look back as you are going to the spirit land, for I will be coming.’ And I said, ‘I will remember to look back, and if you die, look back and wait for me, for I will be coming too.’
“So we rode into the gulch. It was steep at the top and there were some rocks. When one rolled and bounced it made a big noise, for the night was still and cold. Then we would wait and listen awhile. We came to the mouth of the gulch. There were tepees to our left, all asleep in their shadows. To the right there were shadows scattered on the slope and we knew that was the herd. We lay down close to our horses and rode in slowly. If someone saw, we would look like strays from the herd. A dog raised a long howl. And for a while there was barking. We just lay flat on our horses, and let them graze until the dogs were still again. Then we moved ahead slowly, one behind the other, and I was ahead. We would move a little and then stop to let our horses graze. Then we would move ahead a little more and stop to graze, like strays eating their way back to the herd. I looked ahead, and looked, and I saw my horse’s shadow. I could hear horses blowing in the grass, and I could see they were grazing towards the gulch that opened to where the sun comes from. That was good.
“I moved slowly and stopped; moved and stopped. There was something ahead a little way. It was like a shadow, with nothing to make a shadow. All at once it stood up, and it was a man. He said something like a question, but I could not understand. I touched my horse’s flank with my heel, and he moved ahead quickly. The man yelled. My gun was ready; and I was so close, I could almost touch him with it. When he yelled, I shot. He went down, but my horse reared and leaped and I did not stop to count coup. There were two shots behind me, and I could hear the other three yelling where they were strung out behind the herd. Dogs were barking among the tepees and there was shouting yonder. I heard this, and then I heard only myself yelling. Then my own yelling was not loud, for there was thunder in the moonlight, thunder roaring from the ground and a thin cloud rising with the thunder.
“They were running, the herd was running away. I could see their heads and backs tossing, but they were shadows in the thin, rising cloud that thundered in the moonlight.
“The hills that were yonder came closer and all at once they were standing dark above the thundering cloud with moonlight on their heads. The herd was slowing. Horses were crowding and screaming, crowding and rearing and screaming. By now I was waving my blanket above my head, and I was still yelling. When I looked off to my right I could see blankets waving in the moonlight like great wings flapping, and I knew the others were working as hard as I was. The cloud ahead was thinning a little, and I could see a dark river of horses flowing up the break in the hills that was narrow at the bottom. They flowed and tossed and roared the way a sudden flood in a coulee does. I rode at a run up and down the flank of the crowding herd, waving my blanket and yelling to keep horses from breaking away and heading back towards the village. If they had no horses to ride back there, they could not catch us. When I looked back I could see only dusty moonlight; and if there was yelling yonder, the river of horses was louder.
“Then I knew the herd had narrowed ahead and the rear was crowding into the mouth of the gulch--horses on top of horses, rearing and fighting and screaming. And all at once, the four of us were together again, and Kicking Bear was yelling, ‘We have got them, cousins! Drive them hard! We have got them!’ So we kept on yelling and waving our blankets. And when we rode into the mouth of the gulch behind the last of the herd, we rode over horses that were down, kicking and squealing, and trying to get up.
“In a little while we were at the top of the gulch, and the herd was a river of shadows roaring in the moonlight ahead of us. They were flowing fast into a wide valley that we could not see across. The gulch widened and we spread out. Charging Cat and High Horse stayed behind the herd to keep them going. Kicking Bear rode up the right side and I up the left, so that they would keep bunched and not stray off.
“When the morning star was up and there was a streak of day on the range of hills ahead of us, the herd was getting harder to keep going, and they would not gallop any more. They would only trot. Sometimes my horse would stop all at once with his four legs spread out, and wobble and pant. I caught a bigger horse, and it was not hard to catch him. Then I turned mine loose with the others.
“We pushed the herd on over the next range of hills, and when the sun came up we let them stop to rest and graze awhile. There was a creek, and they made for it, crazy with thirst. Many of them piled up in a bend of the creek where it was easy to reach the water. Some died there and some died later, from drinking too much I think. Also, we had lost some in the night, but there were many left. We had not slept or eaten and we had been riding hard. Charging Cat said, ‘We can kill a yearling and eat the best of it while they are grazing.’ And High Horse said, ‘Maybe they will be catching strays and following us.’ And I said, ‘If there were some strays near the village they could catch others fast, and maybe a big party is on our trail now.’ And Kicking Bear said, ‘We can kill a yearling beyond that next range of hills there. Maybe there will be a deer or a fat cow. We can eat over there. We are men, and that is what we are going to do.’ And Charging Cat said, yes, we were men, and we could do that.
“So we filled ourselves with water, and when we had changed horses we began driving the herd again. They were so tired that they did not try to run away, and we had to ride up and down and wave our blankets and yell to make them trot. When the sun was high we were over the next range. Even then we did not stop. Sometimes a horse would just lie down and stay there. If we kicked him, he would not get up. And we said, when we got home there would be only good ones. All the time we kept looking back at the ridge behind us. Maybe there would be a party of Crows coming yonder. But the ridge got lower and the sun blazed there. High hills were ahead of us, and there was a place in the edge of them like the one beyond Mini Shoshay where we kept our horses that time. It was open towards where the sun goes down, and we could rest. So we drove the herd in there and made a little fire where we could see back and watch the horses too. No game was in sight, and we were too tired to hunt. So we cut a yearling’s throat. The backbone meat was good when it was roasted, and we ate the liver too.
“When we had eaten, Charging Cat rolled over like dead, and it was hard to hold my head up; but I thought of Crazy Horse and I wanted to be like him. So I said, ‘Cousins, go to sleep and I will watch. Then I can ’waken you and sleep too.’ And they rolled over and were like dead men.
“The sun was gone. There were stars, and the tops of the hills saw the moon coming far away, but it was dark around me yet, and the herd was only shadow. I kept staggering around to stay awake. It was not easy to be like Crazy Horse. I thought hard about the victory dance they would have for us. So I made myself dance the way I would be doing then, and sang to myself. All at once I would be down on my hands and knees, and it would be hard to get on my feet again. The moon looked over a hill at me, and it was trying to dance. The stars danced too. I tried to ’waken somebody.
“All at once it was not the moon looking over the hill. It was the sun blazing on us and I was lying on the grass. I looked around, and when I did not see any horses, I yelled. The others jumped up, excited and ready to fight. But there was nothing to see. The place in the hills was empty.
“When we had looked awhile, Kicking Bear said, ‘We are not dead, so it was not enemies that did this.’ And I said, ‘Maybe they went looking for water.’ And Charging Cat said, ‘That is what they did, and we can find them.’ And High Horse said, ‘If we do not find them, we can go back _maka mani_ the way we started and find another village.’ And we all said, yes, we could do that.
“But it was easy to track the horses, for they were all going one way down along the edge of the hills. And after a while we saw them. They were scattered out in a valley below us. The hills opened up there and a creek was running through towards where the sun comes up, and the grass along the creek was deep. It was not hard to catch the horses we had been riding, because their lariats were looped around their necks, and they were tired; but this time we tied them to bushes. It was a good place to rest the horses and get them full of grass; and it was a good place for us to eat and sleep.
“There were deer in the valley, and some of them were grazing with the horses at the edge of the herd. I think they had not learned to be afraid of men. So I got on my horse with my gun ready and rode slowly among the grazing herd towards where the deer were. I was lying close to the horse’s neck, and a little wind was blowing towards me. I got a fat one. When I shot, the horses nearby started milling and crowding, but they were so tired they stopped soon and began grazing again.
“We ate plenty. Then before we slept, High Horse and I prepared the two scalps we had taken. There were four of us, so we cut the scalps in two; and when we had soaked them in water awhile, we scraped them thin and stretched them on hooped sticks to dry. Also, we had to have drums for the victory; so we scraped enough of the deer-hide to make four and stretched it on hoops. When we had done this, sitting by a little fire, we slept; but this time two slept while two watched.
“When the morning star looked over the edge of the world, we ate again. And when we had bunched the horses and started driving down the valley of the creek, a streak of day was growing away off yonder towards our home. We drove all that day, but sometimes we stopped a little while to let the herd rest and drink and graze. There were many lame ones, and it was hard to keep them going with the others, for we were in a hurry yet. Maybe the enemy had caught enough strays by now to follow with a large party. Maybe they thought there were many of us, and so they waited until they could find enough horses. We talked about this, and we said if they came we would fight them; it was not good to grow old; nothing remained but the hills; we were men and we could die. But all day, whenever we came to a ridge and looked behind us, the back trail was empty. I think the pipe helped us, the pipe and the vow we made on the high hill.”
The old man fell silent, and for some time he sat with closed eyes, head bowed, his hands on his knees.
“It was many snows ago,” he said at length, emerging slowly from his reverie. “That was my first victory. Before it was dark that day, we began to know our own country again, and we sang to see all the good horses we had, for we began to feel safer. There were about seventy-five of them, and they were the good ones. We had done great deeds; the people would praise us; and we would not be boys any more, but men.
“There was a ridge that looked down on our village, and there next day, when the sun was high above us, the people saw us coming with the horses. They were getting ready for the sun dance, and the other bands had come to camp with the Oglalas in one big circle, because it was a good place for the dance. Some rode out to meet us, singing as they came. These took care of the horses and went back with them to the village, telling the people to prepare for a kill-come-back and a victory.
“We had to get ready; so we made a fire back under the ridge; and when there was charred wood, we blackened our faces with it. If any of our party had been killed, we could not have blackened our faces, and the people seeing would have known, and there would have been mourning with the rejoicing. If I had been killed, maybe, and was feeding the coyotes, then the people would sing to my spirit as the others rode in the victory, ‘_Aah hey! Aah hey!_ Eagle Voice, it is so! We have heard about you, and it is good to hear! _Aah hey, aah hey, aah hey! Aah hey!_’ They would sing that song because any old man would tell you it was an honor to die on the prairie when you were young, and it was not good to grow old. But we were all alive, and so we blackened our faces. Then we tied the scalps to coup-sticks, and each had one. The deer-hide drums we made had dried tight in the hot sun, and we were ready. While we were waiting, we danced around the fire and sang the way we would do before all the people. And afterwhile two came to tell us the people were waiting for us; and when they had gone away, we got on our horses, and we had chosen the best and strongest ones for this. Then we charged over the ridge single file. I was first because I had killed first, and after me was High Horse, for he had killed after me. Then came Charging Cat who had counted the first coup, and last rode Kicking Bear, who had counted coup also. We went galloping down the hill, crying, ‘_hown, hown, hown_,’ all together, as though we were going into battle; and when we were near the village we all yelled, ‘_hoka-hey_’ and shot the guns in the air. With our horses on the run, we swung low on the off-side and charged around the circle of tepees, left to right. And as we rode, the people raised one great voice, ‘_hiyay, hiyay_’; and we could hear the women all making the tremolo high above the voices of the men.
“When we had circled the village outside and come to the opening towards where you are always facing, we stopped in a line and the people sang a welcoming song. Then, because High Horse and I had killed, we rode first around the circle inside the village, left to right, which is the sacred manner, while the two others waited. Our relatives had all blackened their faces and they were all together watching and feeling proud of us. Our horses were tired, but we made them prance around, and they were excited too. As I rode, I looked straight ahead, singing to my drum, ‘Eagle Voice, you have said, I have met an enemy and killed him.’ And when I had sung this four times, High Horse sang the same about himself, and all the men cried, ‘_hiyay hiyay_,’ and the women raised the tremolo all around the big circle.
“When we were at the opening again, the women came, with blackened faces, to walk ahead of us around the circle inside the big village, and we four rode abreast behind them with the scalps held high on our coup-sticks. And as they walked, the women sang about the enemies we had killed and the many horses we had brought them.
“Then when we came again to the opening, the four of us rode to the center of the big village circle where they had made a tepee-thrown-over-together, and there the chiefs and the councilors sat waiting to welcome us. When we had got off our horses and sat down in a row before the head chief, he prepared a pipe and offered it to the six powers. And when we had smoked after him, he spoke to us and praised us. I think he forgot about us running away, because of the horses and the scalps. And all the people cried out with one voice.
“Then the victory dance began, and the feasting and the giving away; and the night was old when it was over. Kicking Bear told the story of our going to war _maka mani_ and of the vow we made on the hill. Charging Cat made the tale longer with the taking of horses. High Horse and I made kill talks, telling how it was. And all the people, hearing, cheered each of us in turn, and the drums beat and the victory song was loud. And after the men, the women danced in their best buckskin dresses, beautiful with beads and colored porcupine quills.
“There was much giving away. It was time for the sun dance, and the hearts of the people were strong. Our relatives gave horses to many, showing their gladness for our safe return; and the four of us gave and gave, until we had left only the horses we had before. If there had been more, we would have given them too; for the heart grows stronger with giving. I gave most of mine to old people, and some to old women who were my grandmother’s friends. Maybe I was remembering the old woman bouncing on her pony-drag, and the pony running away.”
XIV
“_Am I Greater Than the People?_”
When I had fed the fire again, the old man came slowly out of his reverie and began fumbling for tobacco in his long buckskin sack. I waited until the pipe was lit, and having drawn a few puffs, I expressed surprise that High Horse had not saved any horses for Good Plume’s father. Was not that the reason for his going to war? And did he not get the girl after all?
Eagle Voice chuckled, and said: “I think when we got back he was not sick any more. Our heads were full of great deeds and the victory and the people’s praise and the sun dance. Maybe that made him well. Also, the Shyela band went away after the sun dance. Maybe the girl got another man. I do not know.”
“And I was surprised,” I remarked, “that you seemed a little sorry for the old Crow woman bouncing on the drag when her son was killed and her pony ran away. Also, you could have killed her grandson, but you let him go. Were they not enemies?”
“They were enemies,” the old man answered slowly, regarding me with his crinkled, quizzical look. “We were boys and maybe we were thinking of our grandmothers. I could tell you a story about the time when a war party of our people felt sorry for some Crow warriors. They had no horses. They were starving and freezing in the deep snow, and they could not fight any more. So our war party did not kill them. It is a true story. But I will tell you about the time when the Crows were sorry for the Arapahoes. It also happened. The Arapahoes tell it themselves. We know their stories and they know ours, for we are friends. While the people are getting ready for the sun dance, I will tell you.
“It was many snows ago, before I was born. There is a place we call Hide Butte, because the Lakotas once found there many hides staked out to dry by the Crows, and no people anywhere around. It is in the big bend of Duck River, not far from where the Niobrara heads. A whole band of the Arapahoes had a winter camp there, and one morning when they awoke, all their horses were gone. There was not a hoof left. It was very bad. They knew it was the Crows who did it, so they organized a war party and started out _maka mani_, following the trail of their horses. It was very cold, the snow was dry and deep. Afterwhile a wind began to blow, getting stronger. So they stopped to talk about it, and they said, ‘We shall freeze looking for horses in this snow. Maybe it is better to wait awhile until it is warmer, and then we can go.’ Sharp Nose was the only one who did not say it was better to do that. He said, ‘You can go back, and I will go on. If I find where the horses went, I can come back and tell you. I will do my best.’ When he said this, he thought some would be brave and say, ‘You are not going on alone, for we are going with you’; but nobody said that, and the party turned back towards the village.
“So Sharp Nose went on alone. He came to a ridge, and when he looked back to see the others going yonder, there was one lone man coming. He waited, and it was his woman’s younger brother, hardly old enough for war yet. We can call him Little Bear. And Sharp Nose said, ‘Brother-in-law, why are you coming?’ And Little Bear answered, ‘I wanted to come before, but I thought some older men would come and I would go with them; but nobody came, so I am here. I will go wherever you go. I will die wherever you die. That is why I am here.’ And Sharp Nose said, ‘You are a brave young man.’ So they went on in the deep snow, Little Bear behind Sharp Nose, following the trail of the horses. Sometimes it was covered with blowing drifts, but they would find it again. That night they made a shelter of pine bows in a bend of a creek against a high bank that broke the wind, and made a fire; and when they had roasted some _papa_ and eaten, they slept.
“When they awoke, the snow was drifted deep about them; and when they had eaten again and started walking, they could not find the trail at all. Then Sharp Nose said, ‘The crows have our horses, and we will go on to where the Crows are.’ So they went, Little Bear behind Sharp Nose. The wind was strong and cold; the snow was deep; it was hard walking, and it was hard to see for the flying snow.