Wellington's Quest by Robert F. Clifton (best books to read now .TXT) 📕

it. He dismounted and led his animals to a place where there was plenty of grass, most of it dead and dry yet, there was some green. And the paint and mule began to feed. On foot he walked among the trees looking for that one particular tree. Then he saw it. The mistake he had made was in looking for a live tree. The one he found stood tall, white and gray absent of bark or leaves and with only a few remaining branches, also dead. However, it did have two prominent branches that pointed up to the sky, like arms raised or two horns.

Jim walked around the tree and in the back of it saw the hollow place Left Handed Woman had told him about. He reached into the tree's cavity and with his searching hand felt the hair of the bundle, then slowly and carefully, removed it. He stood looking at it. He saw the yellow-white color hide that came off of an albino buffalo. Knowing what was inside he would not open it, it being a sacred thing to Left Handed Woman.

Instead, he held it with reverence, then carried it back to where the horse and mule grazed. After mounting the paint he rode back the deserted village.

That night, before the fire that glowed inside the tipi, Left Handed Woman passed a clay bowl to Jim. In Dakota she said, “This is berry soup. You give food, I give food”, she said as she cut off a slice of cooked elk meat. Jim had hunted and killed the animal on his trip back to the village. Then, the spirit woman said, “I am the one now who smokes the sacred pipe”.

He sat and watched as the old woman opened the sacred bundle and removed a deer skin pouch. From the pouch she took the red-stone bowl and stem of the pipe. Jim knew the legend of the sacred pipe and he watched as Left Handed Woman held the bowl in her left hand, signifying woman and the stem in her right hand, signifying man. He listened to the prayers she made to Waken Tankan (Great Spirit) and watched as she joined the two pieces of the pipe together. From a bead decorated pouch she removed a pinch of tobacco and placed it in the bowl of the pipe. Lighting the tobacco with a burning twig from the fire she drew in the strong smoke and blew it out of her mouth. Then, raising the pipe she presented it to the east, west, north and south. As she did more prayers and chants were given. When she was finished she looked at Jim and in her own language said, “We are now relatives. You are like my son”.

“Thank you. I am honored”, said Jim, speaking Dakota.

The old woman smiled and said, “Wote, wote {Eat, eat).

As the days and night passed by the old woman told Jim about the Paha Sapa, the Black Hills. To the Sioux the place was sacred,, the center of the world. There, warriors go to receive visions and to speak to the Great Spirit, Waken Tanka, she had said.

He listened carefully as she advised him on how to find Matosapa and the young white woman. She told him to take the sacred bundle into the Paha Sapa. “Once in the sacred hills hide the buffalo robe. Once the robe is hidden ride further into the hills for another day. When stopped by warriors demand to see One Horn, saying that you have the sacred bundle and wish to talk with the Medicine Man. If threatened show my sign which I will give you. One Horn will doubt you at first. Take this pouch. Inside are some white hairs from the tashina pte (buffalo robe). One Horn will recognize them and know that you speak the truth. Then, tell him that in exchange for the sacred bundle you want Matosapa and your woman. For the Buffalo Robe One Horn will do and give anything.

Now, my son. Go down to the river and there pick the purple berries that are used for dye and bring them back to me. With them I shall make and give you my sign which will give you safe passage in and out of the Paha Sapa (Black Hills)”, she said.

That night Jim sat and watched as Left Handed Woman squeezed the juice out of the poke berries. When she had enough of the juice that she wanted in a clay bowl she unfolded a piece of white, doe skin. Placing her left hand in the purple berry juice she then pressed the impression of her stained hand on to the deer hide.

“This is my sign. The people will recognize it and honor it. They will know that we are relatives, that you are my son”, she said in Dakota.

“I will wait until I know that you are finally well and strong, Ina(mother)”, he said.

“You will leave in the morning. Winter comes soon”.

The next morning as the sun began to rise Left Handed woman stood outside of her lodge. She looked at Jim and said, in Dakota, “It is finished. I shall see you again in the place of the souls. May the great Spirit bless you”.

Jim took the old woman in his arms and kissed her cheek, and said so she could understand him, “Many thanks mother”. When he released her Left Handed Woman turned and without another word entered her tipi. When she did Jim climbed up into the saddle and rode off, heading for the Black Hills.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twelve

Paha Sapa

 

When he was about an hours ride out of the village it began to snow. Jim looked up at the slate colored sky. He didn't know the exact month of the year, but he judged it to be the end of August or maybe the middle of September. It didn't matter, it was snowing and large, wet, flakes were dropping, landing and sticking to the ground. Fortunately, he had unpacked the buffalo robe overcoat and he stopped the horse, dismounted and put on the garment.

In the distance he saw the tree line of Ponderosa pines appearing black on the hills, giving the area its name. A two hour ride took him into the Paha Sapa (Black Hills). He entered a valley where along the flowing streams towering cottonwoods offered bright yellow foliage as they prepared to drop their leaves. A cold, shallow, running stream ran between banks of growing green grass coated now by falling snow as the horse and mule drank from the rivulet. Jim sat in wonder, marveling at the beauty of the place.

As he gazed upon the valley and the trees he noticed an abandoned eagles nest at the top of a cottonwood tree. Dismounting, he removed the sacred bundle from its place in the pack on the mule,. He wrapped it in a piece of canvas and carried it to the base of the tree. There, Jim removed his overcoat and with the Tashina pte (Buffalo Robe)secured to his body began the climb to where the nest was securely anchored to the branches of the tree. When he got there he placed the pack in the nest, then carefully covered it with leaves from the tree. Satisfied that the bundle was safe as well as hidden he slowly and carefully descended to the ground. Removing the Bowie knife from the scabbard on his hip he notched the underside of a large branch extending out over the ground creating a blaze mark, one that only he would know to look for.

On the move again he crossed the stream and headed deeper into the valley. Ahead of him he saw three young deer feeding on tender green grass as they fattened up for the on coming winter. One buck raised its head and looked at him and sensing no danger continued to feed.

Jim camped that night building and using a large fire. He wanted to be seen by the Sioux. His fire burned between two, very tall, pines. He had made his site beside a brook that gently flowed to somewhere deep in the valley to a place that was out of sight to him. As he began to cook his meal snow began to fall again. There was no wind, no sound other than an occasional crack or pop of pine sap burning within the firewood he had gathered.

Soon, the branches of the trees and the stunted cattail plants were covered with snow. When he finished eating Jim moved the horse and mule into shelter under the trees and covered them with blankets. Retuning to the stream he washed his cup and plate, then back at the fire he added more wood creating larger flames.

On the third day and deeper into the valley Jim knew that the Sioux were close and getting closer. The jack mule picking up the scent of the Indians began to act up. The mule only behaved that way when he detected the smell of Sioux carried in the air.

He came to a place where water gently fell from the high, snow and ice covered, wooded banks of a rise, then cascaded down to the valley floor where it splashed then pooled and eventually ran over smooth black rocks that jutted up out of a stream. He listened to the sound of the falling water. Then, knowing that the Dakota were near, reached back into his saddle bags. Jim removed the white doe skin with Left Handed Woman's purple hand print. Then he sat and waited.

Three warriors came out of the pine tree forest. The Sioux came slowly. Their pony’s created a crunching sound as they stepped upon crusted snow. He felt their eyes on him as they watched every and any move that he made. One of the warriors spoke to him in Dakota. “What do you want here?”.

“I am the one who searches for the Medicine man, One Horn”, Jim answered in their language.

“Why?”, asked the warrior.

“It is a secret talk”, Jim responded.

“The Black Hills are a sacred place. No white man is wanted or allowed”,

“We are relatives”, said Jim as he displayed the white doe skin with the spirit woman's hand print.

Jim then sat and watched the three Sioux men talk to each other in a hushed tone. Finally, the man who had been doing all of the talking said, “Follow us”. He followed behind them and as he did the mule, upset by the sight and scent of the Indians began to bray as he walked.

One man suddenly rode ahead then out of sight. The talkative Sioux turned to Jim and said, “He goes ahead to tell One Horn”.

“Waste (Good),” Jim replied.

As darkness fell the Dakota found a place to camp for the night. A fire was built and dried deer jerky was removed from skin pouches. The meat was offered to Jim. As he took it he said, “Pilamayaye (Thank you very much)”.

In the glow of the fire one warrior asked, “Who are you?”, speaking in his native tongue.

“My name is Jim. I am also called Sicha Shia (Bad Foot)”, Jim answered.

“I am Yellow Horse”, said the warrior tapping his chest with a finger.

The two men engaged in a long conversation. Jim spoke in the Dakota language and when unable to find the right word he resorted to sign. When he felt comfortable with Yellow Horse, he asked him, “Did you take part in the uprising at Mankato or Ulm?”

“No. I was away hunting. After Mankato and Ulm I did fight at Birch Coulee. There, I did kill many long knives”, Yellow Horse answered.

“How about White Stone Hill? Did you fight at White Stone Hill?”, asked Jim.

“For a short time. The long knives had guns that shoot far and fast. We could not get close”, the warrior explained.

“Do you know of a Dakota called Matosapa?”, asked Jim.

“Yes, of course. Matosapa is a great war chief. He has taken many scalp locks. He is