Emo'ôhtavo
vo'e galloped along side Chief Aenohe and the other Cheyenne braves. His blonde
hair had grown quite long and he wore the headband that Mapiya had given him to
keep it in place. He carried his rifle, instead of the bow and arrows given to
him by his adopted father. He found
that he could use this better to protect.
Chief Aenohe did not see anything wrong with it as a lot of the young
men carried rifles as well as the standard Cheyenne weapons of bow, arrow and
tomahawk. Although his shoulder and
back twinged some, it was better under the care of Mapiya. The headaches still came and went, but they
grew lesser and lesser in time. His
dreams though still haunted him at night, but they seem to disappear with the
morning.
Most of the
braves that were in the war party were from the different military societies of
the Cheyenne. Emo'ôhtavo vo’e saw men from the Wolf, Fox, Bull and Bowstring
societies. But the group that impressed
him the most was the braves of the Dog Men Society. The Dog Soldiers, as the white man named them, were the most
distinguished of the societies due to the amount of members from the Cheyenne
nation. At least half of any Cheyenne
tribe consisted of Dog Men Society.
They were known for their fierceness and their brave deeds of counting
coup. They controlled the nation by
their sheer numbers. Chief Aenohe was a
member of the society. Four of the
bravest Dog men were chosen to defend the people against enemy raids in a
certain way for yearlong terms. These
four men wore the a sash of tanned skin eight to ten feet long and five or six
inches wide, with a lengthwise slit cut at the head end. These were called
"dog-strings" or "dog-ropes." The two bravest had their
sash decorated with yellow and red, while the other two wore plain sashes. The sashes were worn over the right shoulder
and under the left and trailed behind on the ground.
When there
was a battle that was not going well for the Cheyenne, these men had to drive
stakes into the ground, which tied them to the spot, guarding the rear of the
retreating Cheyenne until they were safely away. It was expected that these men would die in battle first, rather
than pull up the pins and retreat. The
only way they would be relieved if another Cheyenne sharply ordered them away
as if they were speaking to a dog. He
was then free of his burden to die and could retreat with the others.
Emo'ôhtavo
vo’e felt as if he was part of one of the society men, then he knew the Chief
Aenohe could not have any objection to him taking Mapiya as his wife. It was a definite option. He would have to find out more about the Dog
Men and their ways.
The Cheyenne
war party rode to an area not far from the Box Canyon area. When they got close enough to the where
Chief Aenohe was leading them, he motioned for them to dismount. They would go on foot from here on. The so-called enemy that he would not
Emo'ôhtavo vo'e about would definitely be able to hear their horses and be
forewarned of their coming.
As they
walked until they reached a hillside and then Chief Aenohe gave them to signal
crawl on their bellies up the hill.
This was so that the enemy would not smell their presence on the wind.
As they
reached the top of the hillside, Emo'ôhtavo vo'e and the band of Cheyenne
looked down into the valley below. They
saw a group of Indians camped below.
They had about twenty horses, some looked wild, and some were tame. Chief Aenohe motioned everyone back down the
hillside. They needed to form a plan of
attack.
When they got
back to their horses, they were allowed to speak. Emo'ôhtavo vo'e asked, “My
father, who are these people?”
Chief Aenohe
turned to Emo'ôhtavo vo'e and replied, “They are Pawnee. They are enemy to the Cheyenne. When they can, they steal our horses, our
women, kill our men. They are horse
thieves. We will take their horses, but
it will not be easy. Not like white
men. Are you prepared to do what is
needed, my son?”
Emo'ôhtavo
vo'e stood straight and proud. He had
to prove to these people that he was one of them. “I will do what is necessary
for the people,” he replied.
“Heehe'e,”
was all that Chief Aenohe said. There
would be no more discussion on the subject.
It was determined by Chief Aenohe that Emo'ôhtavo vo'e knew his duty to
his people and did not need to be told over and over again.
Chief Aenohe
mounted and motioned for his men to do the same. “We will ride quickly and strike for the horses. We will not fight unless we are forced
to. We do not kill so easily as the
white man, but we will return victorious this day or die.” All the men, including Emo'ôhtavo vo'e,
whooped and yelled at the prospect of dying in battle. Chief Aenohe rode full speed at the Pawnee
camp and his men followed yelling as they did.
When they got
into the camp, the Pawnee were ready for them.
They had heard their yells and screams of victory or death. The Cheyenne rode through the camp, heading
for the group of horses fettered to the far side. The Pawnees knew what the Cheyenne wanted and would not give them
up without a fight. The Cheyenne knew
that they would not leave without which they had come for. Both were strong and both believed they were
righteous. It would be a matter of time
to determine which would be victorious in the end.
Emo'ôhtavo vo'e watched as one of the Cheyenne warriors went down under a
Pawnee arrow. He then watched as that
Pawnee then went down under bullet of another Cheyenne brave. Emo'ôhtavo vo'e
rode over to where the horses were and dismounted trying to untie them for
moving. As he did, he did not see the
Pawnee who was coming at a run to intercept him. Emo'ôhtavo vo'e was about to
untie another horse from the tethered group when a silent warning came into his
thoughts. He quickly turned around and
fired once with his rifle at the running Pawnee. The Pawnee fell dead to the ground, a bullet put neatly into his
chest. Chief Aenohe was watching the scene from his commanding position. He nodded at Emo'ôhtavo vo'e with pride
bursting from his heart. Emo'ôhtavo vo'e nodded back and went quickly back to
getting the horses gathered. Emo'ôhtavo
vo'e knew he should feel glad that he had killed an enemy of the people, but he
did not. All he felt was disgust at
what he did. He pushed those feelings
deep within his body and continued on with his responsibility. What Emo'ôhtavo vo'e nor the other Cheyenne
and Pawnee men who were fighting did not know was that their actions were being
watched from another hillside on the other side. Those eyes quietly took in the event as it unfolded.
When Vin and
Josiah had spotted the Pawnee camp, they had quickly lowered themselves onto
their bellies. Once settled on the ground,
and they seemed contented that they were not seen by the occupants below, Vin
pulled out his spyglass to get a better look at the camp.
“Yep. They’re Pawnee.”
“Not
Cheyenne?”
“Nope. Definitely Pawnee. Probably on their way from a raiding party of sorts. They got a bunch of horses down there.”
“Do ya think
they might know where Chris is?”
“I doubt
that, Josiah. Pawnee and Cheyenne are
mortal enemies. They’ve been fightin’
each other so long, I think they forgot what the fightin’ was all about in the
first place. They wouldn’a have any
knowledge of the goings on in a Cheyenne camp.”
“So what do
ya think we should do?” Josiah was
getting anxious. He wanted to get back
to the others. They had been travelling
for hours, looking for signs of what, he did not know. Only Vin knew.
“Listen as
soon as . . .”
Vin had
stopped speaking. Josiah took this as
not a good sign.
“What is it?”
Josiah asked, trying to see without the aid of the spyglass what had caught
Vin’s attention.
“There’s some
Cheyenne comin’ in the camp and they’re comin’ in fast. I say it’s a war party and they ‘bout ta
rile up the Pawnees some.”
“How many?”
“I’d say
‘bout twenty. They seem ta be . . . Oh,
shit!”
“Vin, what is
it?”
“I cain’t
believe it!”
“Vin, “ said Josiah
trying to keep calm. “If ya don’t
answer me soon, I’m going ta get very unpleasant.”
“Here,” he
said handing Josiah the spyglass. “Take
a look for yerself.”
Josiah took
the spyglass from Vin’s shaking hands and looked. What he saw he still could not believe.
Among the red
skinned Cheyenne, there was a white man.
Tall and lean, with shoulder-length blonde hair streaming behind him as
he rode a white horse. He was whooping
and yelling, brandishing his rifle as the other Cheyenne. Josiah looked closer at the image that
appeared in the spyglass and immediately he knew it was Chris. Chris Larabee dressed like an Indian and
acting like one too.
“Of all
that’s holy, . . .”
“I know. That’s what I said.”
Josiah then
handed the spyglass back to Vin. Vin
then quickly focused the spyglass back on to the white Cheyenne. He watched him as he rode towards the
horses. He knew that Chris was probably
chosen to get the horses since he was new to the tribe and needed to prove
himself. As he watched him untie each
of the horses from the main tether, Vin saw a Pawnee coming at full speed at
Chris. He knew Chris did not see the
Pawnee since his back was turned and he suddenly felt very afraid for his
friend.
He thought,
“Chris, watch ya back, Pard!” As he
did, he saw Chris turn quickly around and fire his rifle into the chest of the
running Pawnee. The Pawnee dropped dead
in his tracks. Vin mouth dropped in
amazement. Had Chris heard him? Was their connection still there? It gave him hope. Hope that Chris Larabee was still there under all that war paint,
buckskin and hair. Vin then handed the spyglass back to Josiah. Josiah watched as Chris checked the dead
Pawnee and then went back to untying the horses.
“Well, at
least he didn’t scalp ‘im,” stated Josiah trying to lighten up the mood.
“It ain’t
funny, Josiah,” replied Vin softly. He
was trying to think about what just happened.
“So,
Vin. What do we do?” Josiah’s question
brought Vin out of his reverie.
“Don’t
rightly know, Josiah. But we gotta tell
the others what we found.” And also
tell them that they were wrong about Chris not being alive.
“But how are
we goin’ ta get ‘im away from the Cheyenne?
It don’t look good and it don’t look like he’s goin’ ta come along
peaceful like.”
“We’ll come
up with somethin’, Josiah. Don’t
worry.”
“Easy for you
ta say, Brother. Easy for you ta say,”
said Josiah, looking up to the sky.
“Come on.
Let’s get back ta the others.”
He and Josiah then slowly inched their way back down the hillside to
their horses.
The fight was
over long before it began. The Cheyenne
outnumbered the Pawnee and most of them lay dead or dying. The Cheyenne did not get away unscathed
either. They had lost two of their men
and four were badly wounded. The two
who had died, Emo'ôhtavo vo'e knew them as Stands Above and Tallman. They had families, wives and children who
would mourn them for many moons.
Emo'ôhtavo
vo'e himself had only receive a slight wound to his already healing
shoulder. It had come while he was herding
the horses towards the two waiting Cheyenne scouts. A Pawnee, which he did not see to the last minute, had shot an
arrow that had only barely missed the top of his shoulder. It did not imbed itself into the flesh, but
a long jagged cut now ran freely with blood. Emo'ôhtavo vo'e ignored it. It was a badge of honor to be wounded during
a war party raid.
The Cheyenne,
gathered the horses, their dead and their wounded and mounted up for home.
Emo'ôhtavo
vo'e was the last to follow, peering over his shoulder at the hillside on the
farther side. He had felt something
from there. He did not know what it
was, but something had touched him. He
felt it when the warning came about the Pawnee. It was a strange feeling.
He would have to talk to the Cheyenne medicine man, Ma'emestahke when
they got back to camp. He was a wise
man and would know what it meant. He
then urged his horse to follow the war party back home to their victory dinner
and for him, back to Mapiya.
***********************************************************************************************************
J.D. was on
watch for the camp. He had seen neither
hide nor hair of anything living since Vin and Josiah had left. It gave him the shivers to think how close
they were to Cheyenne country. Without
Vin to negotiate for them, they were sitting ducks out here. He wondered if Vin found any sign of Chris
or if they ever would. He did not want
to believe that his hero was gone. He
had admired Chris from the first day he saw him and Vin beat down a bunch of
yahoos who wanted to lynch Nathan. That
was the grandest thing he had ever seen, although Buck told him later that he
thought he was easily impressed. He
could not imagine riding with only six, instead of their usual seven.
J.D. saw them
as they came riding towards the camp as if the devil was on their heels. “Vin and Josiah, coming in fast!” he yelled
back to the camp. As he did, Vin and
Josiah came galloping into the camp with dust flying behind them. Once in the camp, they quickly dismounted
their horses and the others came running over.
“What
happened?” asked Nathan, a sense of urgency gripping his heart. “Are ya hurt anywhere?”
“Nah,
Nathan. We’re fine,” replied Vin. “We need to talk,” and he started walking
over the campfire leaving J.D. to take his and Josiah’s horses’ reins.
Once Vin and
Josiah had settled by the fire, J.D. had finished unsaddling the horses and
handed both of the tired men some of Ezra’s bitter brew. “Ya look tired.”
“We are J.D.,”
said Josiah, taking a sip of the coffee.
“We been ridin’ hard since we found . . .” He stopped in mid-sentence
and then turned slowly towards Vin.
“We found
Chris,” was the tracker’s simple statement.
The others
looked at them in dumfounded. Then they
all started talking at once.
“What? Where
is he, Vin?” asked Buck.
“Did ya see
‘im? Is he alright?” came Nathan’s question.
“How far is
he from our vicinity, Mr. Tanner?” asked Ezra.
“What was he
doin’?” questioned J.D.
Josiah held
his hand up for silence. They all
stopped talking as fast as they had started.
“Listen, Vin
and I will tell ya if y’all just calm down.
Now why don’t cha all just sit down and we cin talk.”
Although
still biting at the bit to find out what happened, the others nodded and took
their places around the fire.
“Why don’t
cha tell ‘im what we saw, Vin,” recommended Josiah. He knew it should come from Vin since he was the one who saw him
first.
Vin brought
his eyes up and looked at them. He knew
that he owed it to these men, Chris’ men, to let them know the fate of their
leader, so he started his tale, starting with how he and Josiah had discovered
the Pawnees and ending with Chris riding off with the victorious Cheyenne.
“I cannot
believe it. Our illustrious leader acting
and dressing like a heathen.”
“Ezra, he
don’t know who he is right now,” voiced Nathan, eyeing him angrily.
“But will he
know us, Nathan?” inquired Buck. He was
concern that his best friend was gone and he did not know what was in his
place.
“Don’t know,
Buck. Anythin’ is possible. He might see us and then everythin’ might
come back ta ‘im. Then again, he might
not. I have seen cases in the war where
a man lost his memory and got it back when he recognized someone or somethin’
familiar.”
“How many of
these types of cases have you witnessed that have re-established their memory
successfully, Mr. Jackson?”
“’Bout five.”
“And, how
many did not, my good healer?”
Nathan
hesitated. “’Bout twenty,” answered
Nathan despondently.
“That’s what I
thought.”
“Shut up,
Ezra!” yelled Buck. “Just shut up! This is Chris that we are talkin’
‘bout. Not some stranger!”
Ezra could
see how this was ravaging the big man’s heart.
Although the others did not think that he cared, even he had come to
feel a sort of kinsmanship to their leader, albeit, it was troublesome one at
times.
“Mr.
Wilmington, I am only trying to look at all our options.”
“I know,
Ezra. But we cain’t just write Chris
off.” Buck wanted his friend back, but
he was starting to doubt if he really did have a friend left to bring
back. It was what had set him off with
Ezra in the first place. Ezra was only
thinking what he was thinking himself.
“Buck’s
right, Ezra. Chris is still one of our
own,” jumped in J.D.
“I just hope
you are right, Mr. Dunne. I just hope
you are right,” was all Ezra said for the moment. He knew they had their work
cut out for them.
“So, Vin
what’s the plan?” asked J.D. excited about the prospect of finding Chris and
meeting some real Cheyenne natives.
Vin had
stayed out of the conversation. He was busy dealing with his own feelings
concerning what he saw. Chris Larabee
was the only man Vin had trusted in a long while. He understood when he needed space and made no claims on
him. Their silent connection had lasted
through many a fight during their tenure as peacekeepers. But Chris was more than that. He was the brother that Vin never had and
could not accept losing that.
“I think I
should go to the Cheyenne camp alone.”
“Are ya
crazy?! What makes ya think ya have any
chance with those Cheyenne?”
“Buck. I’ve lived with their kind. I understand ‘em. If anyone has a chance of surviving this, it’s me.”
“I think your
plan is foolhardy, Mr. Tanner. I doubt
if these natives will understand you’re wanting to take the honorable Mr.
Larabee from them, if what you tell me is true.”
“Ezra, I
think there’s a piece of what was Chris Larabee still in there. A small piece, but still a piece. And as long as there is, I ain’t changin’ my
mind,” replied Vin resolutely.
“But what if
he don’t know who ya are, Vin? Then
what ya goin’ ta do?” Nathan was worried that they might loose the tracker too.
“Well, then
I’ll let ‘im go,” Vin stated simply.
“Just like
that? And ya expect us ta believe
that?”
“Buck, what
else cin I do. Iffen Chris don’t know
who I am then there’s nothin’ that I cin say to convince ‘im.”
“So, am I to
believe that you have resolve yourself into attempting this demented plan?”
“Ezra, ya cin
believe what ya want. It’s what I plan
ta do.”
“Ya nothin’
but a bull-headed, sorry-ass, son of a b. . .” started Buck.
“Buck, calm
down now,” interrupted Nathan. “Vin is
partly right.”
They all
turned to stare at Nathan as if he lost his mind like Vin.
“Listen, Vin is
the only one who gonna be able to deal with the Cheyenne. I agree with ‘im there. What I don’t agree with ‘im is goin’ alone.”
“But Nathan,
. . .”
“Don’t but
Nathan me, Vin Tanner.” Vin looked at
Nathan and knew when he called him by his first and last names that he was in
deep trouble with the black healer.
“Ya listen ta
me, Vin Tanner. Iffen Chris is there,
we all go. No one goes alone on this
one, Vin Tanner. Chris is not just
someone special ta ya. He’s special
t’all of us. He done saved my life and
the life of the ones I love too many times for me not ta be a part of
this. And I am sure that the others
feel the same,” said Nathan, looking at each of the five men that sat around
the fire. As he did, each man bowed his
head in agreement, including Vin.
“Alright,
Nathan. Ya win. But ya got ta do what I say, otherwise it
won’t be just Chris that we’re goin’ ta be worried ‘bout, if ya get my
meanin’.” All five agreed and not one of them thought to do otherwise.
“So what’s
the plan, Vin,” came J.D.’s question again.
“Listen up,
then,” started Vin, as the others gathered closer around him. “This is what we goin’ do. . .”
When
Emo'ôhtavo vo'e and the other Cheyenne warriors had returned to the camp, they
found many of the people waiting for them at the edge of the campsite. Many had come to see whether their men were
victorious and to see the newly acquired horses. Stands Above’s and Tallman’s family was there also. But when the wives found that their men had
not returned in the way they had left, it was a scene that almost broke
Emo'ôhtavo vo'e’s heart. He watched the
women grab at the bodies of their men, as the Cheyenne braves slowly removed
them from the back of the horses they were carried on. Their children stood off to the side, crying
and wailing openly. Their grandparents,
kept them from running to the bodies.
Emo'ôhtavo
vo'e watched the scene with intense green eyes. There was something familiar about the grief these people were
experiencing. Something that was just
on the edge of his inner mind. As he
was trying to remember why this scene gave him such pangs in his heart, it
happened.
All at once,
Emo'ôhtavo vo'e felt a pain sear his brain.
It felt as if someone had just hit him over the head with a hammer. His green eyes were tearing in anguish and a
throbbing growing behind them. “What
the hell was happening?” he thought.
His mind felt as if it was shutting down.
Lucky for
him, Mapiya was walking over to him and she saw he was pain. She grabbed his elbow, letting him know that
she was there and said, “Emo'ôhtavo, is there something wrong?”
Emo'ôhtavo
vo'e could not answer her, he could only shake his head, which made the pain
worst.
“You cannot
fool me. You are not well. Is it the sickness again?”
Mapiya knew of
the sickness that attacked him from time to time. He would complain of his head hurting and sometimes he would even
blackout. Mapiya thought it was because
of the injury to the head that he had received when they found him, but she was
not a healer and he refused to see the healer about it.
Emo'ôhtavo
vo'e knew what was to come with the spell.
If he did not hold on, he would blackout again. He did not want that. Not in front of the people or Mapiya. He feared it would be looked on as a
weakness. He would not let it take over
his life. He started calmly breathing
in and out with much effort and little by little succeeded in clearing his
vision. The pain finally went down to a mere annoyance and he was able to open
his eyes fully.
Once this
eyes cleared completely, he turned to look at Mapiya. There was concern and fear on her face, something he thought he
would never see because of him. He
grabbed her hands gently and said, “I am fine, my love. It has passed.”
Mapiya looked
at him unsure, but finally nodded that she understood.
“Do you wish
to go home, my love?”
“No. I will stay here with the others. Why don’t you get ready for celebration?”
“This is what
you wish, my love?” she asked, still afraid for him.
“Yes, my
love. I will join you shortly.”
Mapiya nodded her assent and kissed him gently on the cheek. At this moment she did not care who
saw. She then walked away towards their
tipi, leaving Emo'ôhtavo vo'e with his confusion on what just happened before
the pain. He decided that he would not
be able to solve it now. It would have
to wait until later. He then thought
back to the medicine man. Maybe he
could put some sense to all of this. He
then walked back towards the other Cheyenne warriors to help them herd their
new found wealth to the river with the other horses.
*************************************************************************************************************
The Cheyenne
mourned and celebrated the night through. Emo'ôhtavo vo'e joined in the celebration
of the people’s victory, but he did not ignore the mourning that went on by
Stands Above’s and Tallman’s families.
In fact, his mind wandered constantly to the grief and pain that they
were feeling at the lost of a loved one. Emo'ôhtavo vo'e felt there was
something at the edge of thoughts that spoke volumes concerning this act. Something that he might have done the same
for someone he loved at one point in his life.
But he could not remember it and it bothered him more and more.
While
Emo'ôhtavo vo'e tried to remember who would he have mourned for, ó'kôhóme
watched with eyes of hatred. Eyes, that
if possible, would have burned a hole right through Emo'ôhtavo vo'e. His victory was at hand. He had planted the knowledge within the
strange white man that he had met days ago.
He knew the man was desperately seeking this man and either Emo'ôhtavo
vo'e would remember him when he arrived and leave with him, making ó'kôhóme
place a more assured one at his father’s side, or Emo'ôhtavo vo'e would not remember
and kill these men, his friends. Once he had taken the life of the strange
white man, then he would have committed one of the highest sins of a Cheyenne.
To take the life of a brother would shame him not only in the eyes of the Chief
and his people, but also to his white friends. Emo'ôhtavo vo'e would then be
banished from both people and in either case, homeless and without a people to
belong and ó'kôhóme would win.
ó'kôhóme
watched as his sister came walking over from their father’s tipi, carrying food
for the celebration. He knew that his
sister had fallen in love with this White Cheyenne. The whole tribe knew it.
But he did not care. He would
open his sister’s eyes to what kind of man she loved and then she would thank
him for making her see the truth.
Mapiya
brought the food over to the men of the tribe who were celebrating, but she saw
that Emo'ôhtavo vo'e did not seem to be into the festivity. He sat cross-legged on the ground by the
older men, staring into the fire. It was
almost like he was having a vision without going through the usual ritual to
achieve it.
Once she had
served the men, she went to sit beside him.
He seemed to wake as if in a dream and turned to notice Mapiya next to
him.
He had heard
that question earlier.
“What is
wrong? Is it the sickness?” she asked
in English, concerned now and feeling that he was being stubborn again.
“No,
Mapiya. I just . . .”
“What?”
“I just keep
havin’ these visions. They don’t make
any sense to me since I cannot remember anything about them.”
“Talk,
Emo'ôhtavo.”
“Talk?”
“With me.”
Chris shook
his head. “No, Mapiya, I can’t. Not, now.
But I would like to speak to your medicine man, Ma'emestahke.”
“You believe
your visions are powerful medicine, my love?”
“I don’t
rightly know what they are, Mapiya. But
I think he can help.”
“Then, I
think you should talk. Talk to
Ma'emestahke. He is wiser than all of
the Tsitsistaestse.”
“I will speak
to him tomorrow of my dreams and my visions,” Chris stated matter-of-factly.
“Epeva'e! You have become a warrior this day, my
love. You have also shown my people and
my father that you are truly Tsitsistaestse.
You have earned a scar of bravery.
You should be happy,” she said touching the wound on his shoulder. It was currently crusted over with blood and
he only flinched a little as she touched it. “We should tend to this.” Mapiya,
although gladden by the events, still saw something was troubling him.
“Do not
worry, Mapiya. It will be fine,” was
all he said and then started gazing at the fire again.
Mapiya
thought, “Stubborn man!” But she said,
“We will fix before bed, yes?”
He knew she
would not let it go until he agreed. He
looked into her bright brown eyes and smiled.
There was very little he would refuse this beautiful woman. He felt that
this feeling he had for her was something that he had felt before. With whom, he did not know. But at this
moment, it was for Mapiya only. “Yes,”
he finally said.
Mapiya then
smiled brightly, feeling she had won the argument. But Chris saw it as only one little battle, not the war.
As she
stroked his hand with hers, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise
up. His green eyes looked around the
area, trying to discern what made him feel on edge. Finally, he noticed a man, standing near one of the tipis not far
from their place at the campfire side.
The man was trying to nonchalantly conceal himself next to tipi, as if
trying to blend in with it. But it did
not go unnoticed by Chris. When he
succeeded in making out the features, he saw that it was ó'kôhóme, Mapiya’s
brother. He must have seen that Chris
had noticed him, for he very smoothly stood up straighter as if to say, “I know
you see me.” ó'kôhóme then calmly started walking towards the other men of the
Wolf Clan at the other side of the campfire, still looking deathly at
Chris. Chris shivered once ó'kôhóme was
gone. He knew this man was
trouble. The trouble was he did not
have someone to watch his back.
Instantly,
that thought came into his mind, but he did not know from where. The pain that was once quieted, now raged
violently all at once. Chris grabbed
his head with both hands and bent over in pain. A flash of the young man in buckskin and the tall smiling man
came into his head again. “Who were
these men? Why did they seem so
familiar?” he thought to himself.
This did not
go unnoticed by Mapiya and she touched his shoulder ever so gently, awakening
him from his reverie.
“Népévomóhtâhehe?”
“Nákâhaneotse.”
“Come. We go to bed,” Mapiya said, helping Chris to
stand up. They walked back to their
tipi, all the while Mapiya holding on to Chris arm, while he held his head down
in pain, trying to see the way back to their home. He knew he had to speak to the medicine man and quickly, or these
ghosts would jeopardize the happiness he had found with Mapiya.
Vin had been
scouting ahead for the past few hours, trying to get some direction on where
the Cheyenne war party was headed. Dawn had just arisen and sun had barely touched
the grass plains. He had found horse
prints from the battle area and followed them.
The led past the valley and into another valley only a few miles to the
North.
He knew he
was getting closer. As he tracked the
prints, he saw more and more tracks had joined up with the others. The further he tracked, the more the land
became trodden with signs of the Cheyenne.
They were definitely Cheyenne by the moccasin tracks that he had
found. If they were the right Cheyenne,
he would soon find out.
He was about
to top a hillside when he suddenly spied smoke coming from an area not too far
from his position. He quickly
dismounted Peso and laid flat on his belly on the hill. Crawling to the top, he took out his
spyglass and pointed in the direction of the smoke. He saw a Cheyenne camp, just coming to life with people. The women were leaving their tipis and
walking towards the creek to gather water for their morning meal. The men and children were slowly rising from
their beds and walking to the creek to bathe.
He also noticed some braves, most likely the guards of the camp, slowly
exchange places with other braves, which were probably relief guards. It looked to be camp of approximately 100
Cheyenne. He knew that if they had listen to Buck’s plan, they all would have
been dead before they had a chance to talk to Chris, if he was there.
He thought he
had all the information that he would need and started to go back to the others
to tell them of his find, when a tipi flap came open and a tall lean, blonde-haired
brave came walking out. The
blonde-haired Cheyenne stretched his arms as he made his way to the creek with
the other people.
Through his
spyglass he saw it was Chris Larabee, dressed like a Cheyenne. The problem was he was losing what made him
Chris Larabee. His walk was not like
Chris. It was the light steps of a
Cheyenne brave born on caution.
Cheyenne were taught at an early age that a man who would not want to be
tracked could not be if he walked lightly and left no trail. He also carried himself like a Cheyenne,
straight and tall, not the usual Larabee way which usually warned everyone that
this was a dangerous man and to keep away. Vin even assumed that he probably
had the mindset of a Cheyenne and attributed this as the cause of the weakening
of his link to Chris. It was not going to be easy getting this new Chris to
believe who he once was. The Cheyenne
way of life now seemed to be too ingrained into him. Vin’s heart tightened with fear and sadness. If he should loose Chris, he did not know
what he would do? Chris was the only
person that Vin felt such a close kinship to, a brotherly love he had felt for
no other, and now it looked like he was going to loose that. “Chris, Pard,” he
thought. “I know ya cin hear me. Ya have ta!”
As if by some
magically intervention, Vin watched as Chris stood up from his bathing at the
creek. He watched Chris look around the
area, scanning the surrounding with his bright green eyes. He watched as Chris eyes settled upon the
hill on which he was situated. “Shit!”
Vin silently cursed and ducked quickly behind the hill. Chris had seen him, there was no doubt about
this. Whether he recognized him was something he did not know. Vin started back down the hill slowly, when
his feet felt something unmovable behind him.
He turned and looked up to see a Cheyenne brave, standing over him,
pointing a rifle straight at his head.
Vin knew he had been caught and noticed from shifting his eyes that this
brave was not alone. It seemed he had
came with three others and they all had their rifles and bows pointed directly
at him. Vin cursed himself in his
mind. He had been careless and had been
caught unawares. So intent he was on
finding and retrieving Chris, he had forgot to watch his back.
Vin finally
sighed and held his hands up for surrender. The brave closest to him said,
“Néhoveóó'êstse!” When Vin did not
obey, he turned to the other braves and said, “Hestaneha!” Two of the braves
disarmed him and then grabbed him quickly, jerking him to stand on the slight
incline of the hill. The brave then asked him, “Nétsêhésenêstsehe?” Vin knew he was asking if he spoke
Cheyenne.
“Heehe'e,”
replied Vin.
“Then move,”
said the brave in Cheyenne.
Vin complied
with the order and started walking down the other side of the hill towards the
Cheyenne camp with the four braves following close behind him. He would now have his chance to meet Chris,
although it was not his plan to do it as a prisoner of the Cheyenne. He hoped that he would be able to get out of
this alive and get back to others who were probably anxiously waiting his
return. He was in a real predicament
and he had to think of a way out of it.
Cheyenne Vocabulary
Émo'onahe –
You are beautiful (or pretty).
Pévevóona'o –
Good Morning.
Nâhtona – My
daughter.
Neho'eehe –
My father.
vehoo'o
Aenohe – Chief Hawk.
Mónêhé'še –
Are you ready to go?
vé'ho'e –
white man
tsêhésevé'ho'e
– half-breed (half Cheyenne, half white man)
Hémêseestse!
– Come Eat!
Ma'heo'o –
God
Népévomóhtâhehe
– Are you feeling good?
Nemehotâtse –
I love you.
Nákâhaneotse
– I’m tired.
Ma'emestahke
– Red Owl
Nétsêhésenêstsehe?
– Do you talk Cheyenne?
****************************************************************************************************************
The five men sat around the almost dead campfire, worried mirrored on all their faces.