Part 8
“Thunder Sounds lay there awhile wondering if it might be a bear there below him; but while he wondered, the breather snorted again and began muttering queer words. And although the words had no meaning at all, he knew that no bear could have said them. And he thought: It is no bear, but a man. So he reached down into the cave below; and hardly had he done this when a hand seized his and held it with a strong grip. There was no sound of breathing now, and it seemed a long while before anything happened. Then the grip loosened, and he could feel the man’s fingers making sign talk upon his: ‘Who are you?’ Then Thunder Sounds made the signs for Shyela, and asked in the same way: ‘Who are you?’ And the other, with a rubbing of finger across finger, like two trees scraping each other in a wind, made answer; and Thunder Sounds thought: This is a Chickasaw and maybe the enemy I have been looking for. But as he thought this, the other made a sign that seemed to mean, ‘let us sleep.’ Then the hand went limp and dropped away, and the deep breathing began again.
“Right away after that, it seemed to Thunder Sounds, the sun leaped up above the trees and stared hard upon his face, for he had fallen into a heavy sleep. His first thought was of the enemy there beneath him. So he sprang out of his cave, and at the same time the other sprang out of his cave, and there the two stood silent for a while just looking at each other so surprised they hardly breathed at all.
“Surely they were very handsome young men, and they looked so much alike that they could have been twins. Each wore an otter skin shield upon his breast. Their quivers were beautiful with porcupine quills and full of arrows, and the blanket that each held with one hand about his waist was very finely quilled. Only the sun saw them, but if anyone else had been looking he would have said: ‘These handsome young men have fathers the people praise, and their mothers and sisters love them very much.’
“After they had looked hard into each other’s eyes for a while, the Chickasaw began sign-talking and the other answered, sign-talking, and I will tell you in words what passed between them. The stranger said: ‘If you are a Shyela, where are you going and what are you looking for?’ And Thunder Sounds said: ‘I am riding far looking for death. If you are a Chickasaw, where are you going and what are you looking for?’ And the other answered: ‘I am looking for the same thing! Why do you want to die?’ And Thunder Sounds replied: ‘I have two older sisters more beautiful than all other girls in the world and they have scolded me, so I cannot live any more.’ The Chickasaw looked hard at Thunder Sounds for a while with his mouth wide open and no sound or breath in it, he was so surprised. Then he said, sign-talking: ‘You lie, Shyela! They are not more beautiful than my two older sisters who have scolded me too, and that is why I am riding far looking for death.’
“Now Thunder Sounds sprang back from the other, sign-talking fast: ‘You are looking for death. I am looking for death. It is right here!’ He dropped his blanket and grasped his knife and crouched, ready to spring upon his enemy; and as he did so the Chickasaw did the same thing. But each seemed waiting for the other, and when they had looked hard at each other for a long while, Thunder Sounds dropped his knife and sign-talked again: ‘It is still early and we have not eaten. I have much meat. Let us eat first, and we shall be the stronger to kill each other.’ Then the Chickasaw also dropped his knife and sign-talked back: ‘It is well. Let us eat first.’
“So the two sat down with the dried meat between them, like two brothers who are twins, and when the meat was all gone, the Chickasaw said: ‘I will go to the creek for a drink, then I will give you what you are looking for.’ And Thunder Sounds replied: ‘I too will drink before I give you what you want.’ So, side by side, they went to the creek and, side by side, they stooped and drank, and as they did so, Thunder Sounds’ two spotted ponies came stumbling close and nickered; and the Chickasaw’s two piebald ponies, that were just alike, came stumbling close and nickered. And when the two young men stood up full of sweet, cool water and drew long breaths, they looked at each other again; and all at once the Chickasaw grinned, maybe because his belly felt so good. And when Thunder Sounds saw the grin, he grinned also, for was his belly not as full as the other’s?
“When the two had walked back to where they had left their knives on the ground, each stood waiting for the other to pick his up. But neither would stoop first. So afterwhile the Chickasaw said, sign-talking: ‘Let us play the hand-game before we die. If you win all I have, you will kill me. If I win all you have, I will kill you.’ And Thunder Sounds replied: ‘Let us play the hand-game.’ So they did.
“First they cut two small sticks that could be held in a closed hand, one with the bark left on and the other peeled. Then they cut twelve larger sticks for each, to be used as counters. And when this was done, the Chickasaw said: ‘My ponies against your ponies.’ And the game began. First the Chickasaw sang, ‘_Hi-yay, hi-yay--hi-ee-hi-yay_,’ while Thunder Sounds swung his hands about him in time with the song, changing the little sticks from one hand to the other as he did so. When the singing stopped suddenly, the swinging stopped too, and Thunder Sounds held his closed fists up in front of him that the other might guess which held the unpeeled stick. The guess was wrong, and so the Shyela had thirteen counters. The game went on, the Chickasaw singing and Thunder Sounds swinging. Sometimes one had nearly all the counters, then the other had nearly all the counters; but afterwhile the Chickasaw had them all, and the ponies were his.
“Then Thunder Sounds said in sign-talk: ‘My otter shield, my blanket, my breech clout, my leggings, my moccasins, my bow and arrows, everything but my knife, against yours.’ So they each stripped and placed these things in a pile. Then Thunder Sounds began singing, the Chickasaw began swinging, and after each had nearly won many times, Thunder Sounds, at last, had all the counters and the Chickasaw had no clothes and no bow and arrows--only the four ponies, his knife and his gleaming long hair. And the Chickasaw, being angry, said: ‘My hair against your hair.’ And he took the sticks, swinging while the other sang. It took a long while, but this time Thunder Sounds lost. Then the Chickasaw gave a war whoop, and, seizing one of the counters for a coup-stick, he struck his enemy, crying, ‘_An-ho_.’ And when he had counted coup, he cut off the gleaming long hair of Thunder Sounds close up to the scalp and danced a few steps of the victory dance.
“This made the Shyela angry, and he said: ‘All that I have but my knife against your hair.’ And after much singing and swinging and guessing, Thunder Sounds had all the counters. Then with a war whoop he seized a counter for a coup-stick and struck the other, crying, ‘_an-ho_.’ And having counted coup on his enemy, he cut off the long gleaming hair of the Chickasaw close up to the scalp and danced a few steps of the victory dance.
“When this was done, each stepped back to where his knife was lying on the ground; but neither stooped. And as they stood there looking at each other, the Chickasaw began to grin again--a grin that broadened until his whole face was puckered. Seeing this, the Shyela also began to grin--a grin that broadened until it touched his eyes and set them dancing. And seeing this, the Chickasaw snickered. Then Thunder Sounds snickered; and all at once both began to laugh so loud that the steeps along the narrow valley roared with mirth, and the four ponies yonder in the deep green grass lifted up their voices all together in screaming laughter. If there had been anyone there to see, he might have said: ‘These young men are dying of the bellyache the way they hold their bellies and howl. Naked and hairless!--_ho ho ho, ha ha ha, he he he hi-ya-hi-o!_’ They looked so funny to each other, that it was a long while before they could stop laughing; and when they stopped at last, they were standing with their arms about each other to keep from falling down, for the very weakness of mirth. With the tears running down their faces, they were like twins long parted who had found each other again--but the tears were tears of laughter.
“And after a while, they staggered apart, and the Chickasaw said, sign-talking: ‘You are too funny to kill.’ Then he held his belly again and howled, and Thunder Sounds sign-talked, saying: ‘You are as funny as I am.’ Then he held his belly and howled awhile.
“And when the laughing-fit was over, the Chickasaw said: ‘Let us not kill each other at all. We will be brother-friends. I will give you all that was mine along with my hair. You will give me all that was yours along with your hair. Then we will both go home and tell our people to meet here when two moons have come and gone and the next new moon is low above the sunset. There shall be a big feast and our people shall be as one people forever.’
“And Thunder Sounds replied: ‘It is good; let it be as you say, my brother.’
“So when they had held each other close for a while, each dressed in the other’s clothes, and with the other’s hair and weapons rode away towards his home, the Chickasaw upon a spotted pony exactly like the one that followed, and Thunder Sounds upon a fine piebald pony followed by its twin.
“The narrow valley, where the grass was deep and green beside the running water and the trees made pleasant shade, lay waiting there until two moons had grown and died above it. And when the thin third moon hung low above the sunset, the place was filled with happy voices. On one side of the sweet running water the Chickasaws had pitched their tepees, and on the other side, Shyelas; and their ponies knew each other, feasting together, muzzle deep, as the peoples feasted. And the steep sides of the valley laughed and sang. And because all hearts were strong with kindness, there was a big giving-away until no one had anything left at all that had been his or hers; but everyone had plenty. Even the little children gave their playthings to each other. Men who had been strangers gave themselves and were brother-friends. And their sisters became sisters, and the father of each became the other’s uncle, and the mother of one the other’s aunt. From that day to this no Shyela has ever harmed a Chickasaw, no Chickasaw a Shyela.
“And this was all because two boys had trouble with their sisters!”
XI
_Helping a Brother-Friend_
When I arrived next morning, the fifing of wagon tires in the subzero hush of the creek bottom yonder proclaimed a family fuel shortage belatedly acknowledged. Not only was the son-in-law up and doing with the blanketed sun; but the old man himself, bent to the horizontal from the hips, his thin hair whiter than the snow, his sharp face frosted with his breath, plied an ax among the gnarled remainders of the woodpile.
“_Lela oosni!_” he remarked, smiling brightly up at me and panting. “You see I can get my own wood.” Yielding the ax to me with some reluctance, he shuffled towards the tepee, apparently unaware of the ragged moccasins that gave no protection to his heels and toes against the searing snow.
When the fire was going merrily and the tepee was snug with heat, I said: “Grandfather, I have brought you a present.” With something boyish shining in his face, he made a high prolonged nasal sound of pleasure and surprise as he watched me unwrap the sheepskin slippers I had brought him; and when he held them in his hands, he giggled like a youngster. The business of getting the slippers on the old man’s feet became something like a catch-as-catch-can wrestling match, for in choosing the size, I had not allowed for the cozy fur inside. He lay in his bed chuckling while I held a long skinny leg under my arm and wrestled with the foot. When the business was finished, he sat up, placed an arm about my shoulder, and pulled me close. Then, as though he were making an announcement to the universe in general, he said: “This is my grandson! _Dho!_ This is my grandson!”
When we had smoked awhile in silence, I asked: “And did the story of the two boys make you hungry?”
“_Dho_,” he said, regarding me with the crinkled, quizzical look; “but the meat is not the same. It has no strength in it.” He meditated awhile, gazing at the ground. Then his face brightened. “That was the time when High Horse and I killed our first bison bull,” he began, catching up the loose thread of yesterday’s narrative; “Also a young cow--fat--tender--strong meat to make a man of a boy. Thirteen winters made a man those days. It must have been the meat.
“We had plenty of bull-hides to make the _watah_ [boats] we needed for crossing Mini Shoshay [the Missouri]. Also there were willows in plenty for making the frames. We tied these together with green rawhide thongs, and over the frames we stretched the green bull-skins tight, sewing them with strips of hide. Then we hung them up to dry in the wind and sun; and while they dried and shrank tight we rested and feasted three more days. _Washtay!_ Good boats! Kick them--they sound like big drums! Float high in the water! _Washtay!_
“We put all our belongings in the boats and most of us swam, pulling them with rawhide thongs that we held in our teeth. The ponies did not give us any trouble after we got the first ones into the water; and some of us swam with our horses, so that we could catch the others when we got across.
“Our scouts had gone out while we were making boats, and they came back to our first camp beyond Mini Shoshay. They had been watching a big war party of Flatheads, Nez Percé and Absoraka [Crows] not far away, and they said we must attack as soon as we could that day and not wait for night, because the bands had not yet made camp together and were still coming up. If we waited, there would be too many for us. This was in the morning, and the sun was about straight up when we made the attack. There was a big butte close by, something like Bear Butte near Pa Sapa [the Black Hills], and we sneaked around that until we were close enough to charge. I think they did not know we were in the country, and it was a big surprise. Women were putting up tepees, children were playing anywhere, and the men were scattered around, not thinking of trouble because it was the middle of the day, and the ponies were grazing without guards. It was not much. There was no fight. We did not kill one man or count a coup. We just charged in there, waving blankets and yelling, and it was funny to see the people running here and running there all mixed up. The ponies had not had time to scatter far, and right away we got about a hundred started south on the run. When we reached the top of a ridge and looked back, we could see that we’d better hurry, because the warriors of the bands that were still coming in to camp back there were after us, and there were many.
“The sun was halfway down when we came into some hills with trees on them here and there. So we stopped to let the ponies rest; and if the enemy wanted to come and fight, we would fight right there with the trees and gullies to help us. They did come, but it was not much. Maybe they thought we had a big party waiting for us there and we meant to trap them. It was hard to see us among the brush and gullies, and they did not charge; but now and then they would see somebody and shoot, and we would shoot back. It was lazy war, and I guess they were tired too.
“High Horse and I were up in a tree with old Maza Ska [White Metal], or anyway he seemed old to us. He had a gun, but we had only bows and arrows. Sometimes we could see an enemy’s head and we would shoot at it. White Metal would make fun of our shooting, but I think he did not hit anybody either. He only made the others know where we were, so that they could shoot back; but nobody got hurt.
“Afterwhile I could feel my belly gnawing, and over beyond a low ridge I had seen some stray bison cows. So I said to High Horse: ‘Let us go over there and kill some meat, for there are no enemies that way.’ Our three ponies were tied to some brush under the tree. White Metal’s was a mare with a big colt at her side, and that is what I want to tell you about. When we got on our ponies we had to ride fast and swing low under their necks, because several of the enemy began shooting at us. We could hear old White Metal bang away up there. Even if he did make fun of us, we knew he liked us and wanted to help by keeping the enemy down. When we got over just under the low ridge, we stopped, and High Horse said: ‘Let us smoke before we kill a cow; it may help us.’ I had brought my pipe with me because it would protect me and give me power. So we sat down and smoked. When we had passed the pipe awhile, all at once there was big yelling over there beyond the low ridge, and we got up to see if the enemies were coming; and this is what we saw.
“Old White Metal’s big colt was bucking and squealing and running in circles there on the open hillside, and White Metal was riding belly-down on its back; but he was not riding the way the colt was going. He was riding backwards, holding on with his legs, and with both hands around the root of the tail. His mouth was close to where the colt was breaking wind every time it bucked, and with every jolt White Metal yelled, ‘_hown hown_.’ It seemed that he was arguing with whatever the colt was saying under its tail. We could hear yelling and laughing down in the brushy draw where enemies were standing up waving their arms and cheering White Metal. Our own people were standing up too, laughing and cheering: ‘_Hi-ya! hoka-hey!_ Hold him, _Kola!_ Bite his bottom! Don’t eat it all! Give me a piece! _Hoka-hey!_’
“It was not much like war.
“This is what had happened. When High Horse and I were over the ridge, White Metal thought: I will go and help the boys kill some meat, for I too am hungry. But when he started to climb down out of the tree, some enemies shot at him--bang! bang! bang!--and he was so excited that he let go and tumbled. The loose colt was right under him ready to go, and so they went together in opposite directions.
“When White Metal was right in front of us, the colt stopped short, went straight up in the air, hump-backed, and whirled as it came down stiff-legged. That was the end of the ride, and the colt made off for its mother, still bucking and squealing. White Metal came limping up to High Horse and me, and when he had wiped the blood and dust from his mouth, he began poking us in the ribs, saying: ‘That’s right! Laugh! Laugh! It’s funny! Don’t be serious! Why don’t you laugh?’ And we did not quit laughing, for the rib-tickling and the fun of it, until the enemies began shooting at us again from the brush down there.
“We did get a fat cow before the sun went down, and late in the night we started for Mini Shoshay with the ponies. When the morning star was up and day was just beginning, we came to a small round valley with steep sides and only one easy way to get in. So we drove the herd in there, and Crazy Horse told us all to get a good sleep. He would watch at the opening to the valley, and if the enemy came he would waken us and we would stay right there and fight, no matter how many there might be. But no enemy came; and when it was dark we started again for the river where we had left our boats hanging in some brush.
“There was no victory dance when we got home, because we had no scalps and had not counted coup. Nobody said much about our war party. We lost about half the captured ponies on the way back; and that was not enough for thirty-seven warriors to sing about. High Horse and I each got a pony--not very young ones.
“No, it was not much, but we boys had a good time, and we learned. After that we could not talk about anything but going to war. We did go to war after High Horse went crazy.”
“Did he really go crazy?” I asked.
“It is a story,” the old man answered, chuckling; “and I will tell you how it was with him, and why we made war against the Crows that time.
“I was often at the Miniconjou village with my brother-friend, and sometimes I would see Tashina Wanblee over there. She was getting to be a big girl, and she was very pretty. I could see that she still liked me and that she wanted me to talk to her; but High Horse and I were going to be great warriors and we did not want to be bothered with girls. Once I came upon her down by the creek when she was getting water for her mother. She looked up at me quickly, and I can see her eyes yet; but I was older before I knew what I saw there. It was not the way it used to be when I was her horse. I thought I had scared her because she did not know I was there. When she had looked that way at me, she would not look any more. She just stood still with her hands clasped in front of her and her head bent. I talked to her, but she did not answer. Only once she said, hardly louder than a whisper: ‘_Shonka ’kan, Shonka ’kan_.’
“I knew she was pretty, with her long hair combed smooth and shining like a blackbird, and I think she was waiting for me to throw my blanket over us and whisper to her in the dark. But my head was full of horse-stealing and war and the great deeds High Horse and I were going to do before very long; and it was such things that I told her, bragging like the boy I was, for I think I wanted her to be proud of me.
“There was a band of Shyelas [Cheyennes] camped up the creek that time. High Horse and I would go up there to play throwing-them-off-their-horses or maybe hoop-and-spear with the boys our age; for the Shyelas were friends and almost like our own people come to visit us.
“One day when we were up there having a good time, I noticed that High Horse was not with us any more, and I wondered if he had gone home. So afterwhile I rode off down the creek towards the Miniconjou village. There was some brush around a spring, and High Horse was in there. He was talking to a Shyela girl, and he did not see me. First I thought I would yell at him; but I did not, for all at once I felt sad and ashamed. So I turned back and rode home another way.
“The next time I saw him, I thought he was sick because he was queer with me, but he said he was not sick. Afterwhile he began talking without looking at me, and he said that maybe when we were great warriors we would have women too just like other men. Crazy Horse had a woman, didn’t he? And all the other great warriors had too, didn’t they? And so maybe it would be the same way with us. And I said we were not great warriors yet, and we did not have to think about that now. And he said, ‘I know you talk to Tashina, because I have seen you doing it. Maybe you will have her for your woman sometime; and maybe I will see a girl I want too.’
“Then I laughed and said I talked to Tashina because I used to be her horse, and she wasn’t like other girls anyway. I was just telling her about the things we were going to do. And he _yah-yahed_, making forked fingers at me. Then I was angry, and I said: ‘You have been sneaking around in the brush after that Shyela girl again, haven’t you?’ Then he was angry too, and left me, and I rode home.