Wellington's Quest by Robert F. Clifton (feel good fiction books .TXT) 📖

“In what battles with the long knives did Matosapa fight?”, asked Jim.

“This I do not know. It is possible that he was at Big mound and Dead Buffalo Lake, said Yellow Horse.

“As you know, the great, white, war chief, Sibley defeated the Sioux at those places”, Jim reminded Yellow Horse.

“Defeated? I think not, Sicha Siha (Bad Foot). We are many and we are still here. Here in our land we will fight”, the Dakota responded.

“True, you are many, but the wasichu (white man) is like the stars in the night sky. More than all of the tribes of the Sioux can count. As Yellow Horse knows the wasichu now fight each other. Soon that war will end. Then the white man will descend upon the tribes, all tribes. Now, you fear the white man's cannon. Imagine ten times ten the number of cannon that could be set upon your warriors. You may fight my friend but the outcome of the fight is in the favor of the wasichu”, Jim explained.

“Perhaps you are right. We know that the long knives can not be everywhere. They can not protect every wasichu. They can not protect every wagon train that crosses our hunting grounds and at the same time protect every fort near our rivers. Where the long knives are strong at one place they will be weak at another. It is those weak places we will attack. It is my wish Sicha Siha that we never meet in battle. To me, you are not only a relative, but also my friend”.

“My hope is for peace”, said Jim.

“Peace, without slavery,” Yellow Horse replied.

Early the next morning the three men were on the trail heading deeper into the hills. Yellow Horse led the way. Behind him was the young warrior called, Spotted Owl. Jim followed. As he rode he marveled at the beauty of the place. White birch trees grew up out of green grass, now covered with a thin layer of snow. They stood in front of dark green pines that grew for what seemed miles in all directions. Although he could not see them he could hear the sounds of flowing streams and babbling brooks.

They stopped at a small pond to allow the mounts and mule to drink. Here, during the night snow had fallen and covered the ground. The snow fall had been more than a dusting. Still, it presented no problems for traveling. Jim looked long at the nearly white sky as the sun began to rise coming up and over a ridge where pine trees grew. He also saw the trees reflection on the surface of the water. There was no wind. The air was still. The only sounds were those made by the drinking animals. “This is truly a holy place”, Jim thought to himself.

At about noon Yellow Horse checked the location of the sun in the sky. He then looked for and found a place that was snow free and dry. Deciduous trees with red and yellow leaves would protect them from any wind should it occur. The Dakota warrior led the way into the place he had chosen to rest.

As the horses and mule rested Yellow Horse walked over to Jim and offered him a raw hide pouch. Jim saw that the leather bag held pemmican. “Food. Eat”, said Yellow Horse.

Jim reached into the bag and with two fingers scooped out a mixture of pulverized dried meat, melted fat and berries. He then tasted the blend and finding it to have a pleasant taste said, “Lila Waste,(Very Good)”. He then leaned back against a tree and as the Dakota shared their food by passing the pouch around among them, he drank from his canteen, The warriors drank from a skin pouch. After wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his overcoat Jim asked, again in Dakota, “How far do we have to travel?” Yellow horse stood up, walked to his horse and said, “Not much further now”.

Once mounted again the trio continued their journey through the Black hills going deeper into the valley. As they rode past the hillsides the valley became larger, wider, the hills became higher transforming the valley into a canyon. It seemed that each mile that they made there was some type of water source, streams, falls, rivulets and ponds. With plentiful game and a constant supply of fresh water the Paha Sapa was not only a sacred place, it was a sanctuary.

They came to a pond where dead wood, sod and leaves had been used by the beavers to construct a damn. Behind that barrier the water appeared dark and cold. The banks surrounding the pond held the recent snow dusting. Weeds and grass appeared dead, offering a dry gray and tan color. Stumps jutted out of the ground, the remains of the beavers work as they gnawed through and felled the trees needed for their project. Behind the waters edge the tall pines grew, dark in the shadows cast by the towering hills. Far in the distance sunlight illuminated the remaining evergreen forest that grew under a towering, white stone faced mountain.

Near sundown they rode into a large clearing. Jim saw that there was only a lean to and it appeared to have been constructed hastily. Seated inside the makeshift dwelling, before a fire sat a man. Jim assumed that it was One Horn. As they dismounted Yellow Horse turned to Jim and said, “Go. Talk”.

Jim walked to the lean to. There he gazed upon a Dakota Sioux, a man he judged to be about forty or fifty years old. The man was dressed in buckskins, On his head he wore the preserved skin of a coyote, complete with head. The front legs of the prepared animal dropped down over the man's shoulders. Yellow paint covered his forehead, eye area and the bridge of his nose. Vertical white stripes decorated his cheeks and reached his mouth and chin. The seated man had no expression on his face, and with cold, black eyes he looked at Jim. There was no greeting and no invitation to sit at the fire.

As Jim began to speak he was immediately interrupted by the Medicine Man.“Do not bore me with your attempts to speak the language of my people. I speak your words. This I learned at the Redwood Agency. What do you want and why do you enter the Paha Sapa to see me?” Jim sat down and crossed his legs, getting comfortable for what he thought was going to be a long, conversation.

“I came for two reasons. One, to do you a favor. Two, I seek Matosapa, your cousin. I have been told that you and only you know where he is”, said Jim.

“You speak to me about a favor. What favor can you offer me, you a wasichu (white man)”.

“I can give you the sacred bundle. The chanupa you left when you ran like a girl when the Crow came to your village.” Jim answered. When he did he saw the expression change on One Horn's face.

“You come here and insult me. No such thing happened”

“I see the yellow paint on your face. The color yellow signifies intelligence. I also see the color white which means you are in mourning.

Surely as your people's Stone Dreamer you are not foolish enough to give up the chance to once again have the Tashina pte(buffalo robe).

“I do not know what you talk about. I have spoken. No such thing happened”, said One Horn.

“No? Then why do your people wait for the performance of the seven rites? Why do the young girls wait for you to talk to Waken Tanka so that they may enter womanhood? And, why do you insinuate that my Ina is a liar?”

“Your mother? Who do you claim to be your mother?”

“Chinatown, Left Handed Woman. Here is her sign”, said Jim displaying the white doe skin.

One Horn's reaction was one of complete silence. Jim watched the man who now knew that his secret was exposed. The fact that he, the Stone Dreamer, the medicine man, the keeper of the sacred bundle had fled in fear for his life when the Crow war party entered the village and he had left the Tashina pte behind. “How do I know that you speak the truth, that you do have the sacred bundle?”, asked One Horn

Jim reached inside his overcoat pocket and removed the small, skin pouch Left Handed Woman had given him. He tossed it in front of One Horn who picked it up then opened it. Reaching inside he removed the white hairs that had been clipped from the white, buffalo robe. The Stone Dreamer swallowed hard and the hand holding the white hairs began to tremble.

“Where is the Tashina pte?”, asked One Horn.

“Only I know. I answer your question with my question. Where is Matosapa?”

“What do you want with him?”

“He is wanted by my people for the killing of many. It is said that he was the war chief during the raids at Mankato and Ulm. If you are familiar with the language of my people then I ask you do you know the words, arrest warrant?”

“I do. You say that Matosapa was at Mankato and Ulm. He could not be at both places at the same time,” said One Horn.

“Then he should return and hear the evidence against him. Witnesses will say where he was on those days”.

“Your witnesses will lie. Just as your traders and agents lie. It was they that provoked this war. It was they that cheated and starved our people. Can you not see why Matosapa took the path of war?”

“Yes. Yes I can. What I can not understand is that after burning the Redwood Agency and killing traders why did the Dakota then kill innocent men, women and children. Most of them were farmers without any sort of blame and had very little or no contact with your people”, said Jim.

“The blood ran hot within our warriors”, One Horn replied.

“And now, the blood runs hot in the wasichu (white man), in the long knives and in those who talk to the Great Father in Washington. It is he that listens and sends his armies against you. We can sit here forever speaking about who and what is wrong but it will get you nor I anywhere.

This is my deal. I give you the Tashina pte and you give me Matosapa”, offered Jim.

“Is the Tashina pte near?”, asked One Horn

“I shall return to this place in three days. When I do I will have the sacred bundle with me. I shall sit upon my horse. When you present Matosapa to me I will dismount and hand you the Tashina pte. If Matosapa is not here to meet me I shall ride away taking the robe and chanupa with me”, explained Jim.

“And, if I decide to send my warriors against you, what then?”, asked One Horn.

“Then, I'll find you without honor. Then, I will show the sacred bundle to your warriors and at the same time tell them how it is that I am in possession of it. Then, it will be them that takes away your position with the people. There will be a new wickasaw wakan (medicine man) and you shall be banished. You will live in the wilderness living on roots and berries”.

One Horn thought for a moment then said, “Three days Sicha Siha (Bad Foot). When you returned I will have Matosapa with me”.

“Good. I will leave at sunrise”, said Jim

During the night it snowed again. Jim crawled out of the hut he had made by bending saplings then tying them down so that they could be covered with saddle blankets and covers. That night he had slept, curled up in a ball relying on the buffalo overcoat to keep him warm. He shook the blankets seeing that it had been a dry snow and that they would not be wet against the hides of the horse and mule. Saddled and