Conquering Horse (42 page)

Just as the thunderhead’s edges became a watery red, a vivid
forked tongue zigzagged out of the ground. It hit the underside of the cloud, quivered once, then exploded into a great flash of bright blue lightning. The dazzling stroke hit a distant tree on the brown horizon. The tree seemed to vanish before the eyes. A few moments later a boom of thunder raced across the plains.

Redbird slowly straightened. His hand lifted. “Hi-e!” he cried. “Thunders, you have come for me too late. The white mare has decreed otherwise.”

Again the thunderhead shot down a stroke, this time a claw of fire that caught at the highest bluff west of the river and stirred up a puff of dust. Thunder boomed deep and long as it raced east.

“Friends, I hear your war whoop!” Redbird cried. “But you have come for me too late.”

Redbird’s eyes burned. Holding the lance with its burnished copper tip straight up, he advanced toward the center of the village. He walked in stately dignity, erect, knees thrown forward turn by turn from the hips, slowly. When he came to the scalp pole from which the Pawnee’s scalp still dangled, he stopped. He stood still a moment. Again his lips moved in inward prayer. Then, turning slowly around, he called to all sides. “Ha-ho! listen to me, my children. Now will I speak out among the Yanktons, tamers of horses.” He set the heel of his lance on the ground. “Hey-a-hey, hey-a-hey, hey-a-hey, hey-a-hey! The thunder beings who have been like relations to me say they are coming to visit me again. You hear them. Well, they have come too late.”

Deep silence fell over the camp. The mother calling her son stopped dead in her tracks and bowed her head. The two guards in front of the council lodge sat listening raptly. Warriors in the doorway behind the guards sat motionless. The people sitting just inside their tepees, the old as well as the young, also listened closely.

Redbird turned completely around once more, surveying all
the village. As he did so, his roving eyes caught sight of Conquering Horse sitting on a red rock. Redbird fixed his gaze on his son a moment, eyes gleaming with the ghostly brightness of a sundog, then moved on.

Redbird threw back his head and again spoke loudly and clearly. “I am killed. The white mare says I must die at last. I am no longer needed. Now, my children, I am sad that I must leave you so poor. I am sad that I leave the Yankton nation not yet a great nation. I am sad that you are not rich with many spotted horses. I am sad that the Pawnees still come and steal our horses and rape our maidens and kill our young men. Therefore, that I should die is good, that I should live is bad. Old age is an evil thing when one is no longer needed.”

A soft puff of smoke bloomed out of the top of Moon Dreamer’s tepee.

“My children, we all come from the same mother and the same father, the earth and the sun. This was true of my father. It is true of me. It is true of my son. It is true of my grandson. As the days go by, like the breaths we take, one father must give way to another so that the great flow of life may remain unbroken and one.”

Softly overhead the cloud moved up. Its wings touched the far south horizon and the far north horizon. It hovered over the tiny tepees like a huge eagle brood-mother. Its tail of rain trailed along the earth. First it flashed lightning out of its left eye, then out of its right eye.

“See the great thunderbird!” Redbird cried. “Hehan! he comes too late.”

A second puff blossomed out of Moon Dreamer’s smokehole.

“My people, listen to me. I have looked ahead to this day many times. In the night on my sleeping robe I have thought of how it might be. Once the nightmare came to me and said, ‘You have heard of those who in some sacred way died alone and never were seen again. Listen, old one, and I will show you how it is done.’ When I listened carefully and saw that the nightmare
meant for me to throw my life away, by letting myself fall into the Great Smoky Water, I cast her words aside. A Yankton chief belongs to his people. Therefore to throw his life away is to throw away the life of his people.” Redbird turned slowly with little steps, looking above the pointed tops of the tepees, eyes fixed on the lifting veils of smoke. “Still another time a spirit demon whispered in my ear and said, ‘Take your son to a high place and offer him in sacrifice to Wakantanka. Wakantanka will then see that you love him very much and will give you a second youth.’ Again I saw this could not be done. Even as the chief belongs to his people, so the son of a chief belongs to his people. Thus I cast these words aside also.”

It began to sprinkle. A scattering of heavy raindrops smacked onto the leather lodges. Dark sodden spots began to show on Redbird’s buckskins.

“My children, listen to me. At last, after many sleepless nights, the white mare of my son’s vision came to me in dream.” Redbird pointed his lance at Conquering Horse. “My children, look upon a noble son.” A spark seemed to leap from the copper tip, darting straight for Conquering Horse. “My children, the white mare gave me the same dream she gave my son, both the dream he saw on the Butte of Thunders and the dream he saw in the sun dance beside Falling Water. Then I saw. Then I knew. I was happy. I accepted it.”

Conquering Horse jumped to his feet. He clapped hand to mouth. His eyes rolled from side to side as if he could not bear to listen to the thing his father told of. Then he cried aloud, “My father, my father, let it not be!”

“Do not weep, my son. A Yankton never throws away his tears. It is well. They of the other world have decided.”

A third puff of smoke bloomed out of the top of Moon Dreamer’s lodge.

“My children, your new chief will have a good heart. This I know. On the Butte of Thunders the white mare told my son to catch a white seed horse. My son told you of this when he
returned. It was a good thing. In the sun dance beside our river the white mare told my son that his true father must die at last. Hi-e. Well, my son did not wish to accept this part of the vision. He wept. He loved his father very much. He wished to keep the knowledge of what had been told him from his father. Yet it had to be.”

The only sounds in camp were the soft cracklings of the hearth fires.

“My son had a heavy heart, thinking that on his return from capturing the seed horse the white mare would require him to kill his true father. This was a dark vision. My son carried this knowledge with him when he took the trail alone. Yet he persevered. He counted coup on the Pawnee. He found his wife Leaf. He found the white stallion. He did all the things required of him and returned with a son and a seed colt. My children, I tell you these things so that you may know how great the Yankton nation is with such a new chief at its head.”

A drum sounded in the council lodge, once, deep.

“Then the white mare came to me in a dream again. She waved her red tail over me and spoke to me. She said, ‘You have lived long and done well, but now it is time for you to go to the country of the spirits where your grandfather Scarlet Whirlwind and your father Wondering Man await you, as well as the Old Ones. You have the courage of the Old Ones and deserve this. Listen carefully. After your son has returned this is what you must do. Put on your vestments as chief and walk to the scalp pole. There you must tell the people in a loud voice that the white mare has told you to declare yourself their enemy. You will remember that your grandfather Scarlet Whirlwind often spoke of a custom in which the very aged were disposed of in a certain way, a custom called, “making enemies of the old fathers.” The old fathers were armed and allowed to defend themselves as best they could, while the young braves killed them with clubs. This was done so that the old fathers could die honorably in battle and thus glorify the greatness of
the Yanktons. Therefore, on the last day of the Moon of Scarlet Plums, at dusk, after the sun sinks, call up the young braves in Circling Hawk’s war society, as well as your son who will be chosen as chief, and command them to attack you in the red rocks across the river. Fight well. Do not fight in a mocking manner. We will be watching. There in the red rocks, it will be given you as well as your son!’ ”

A fourth puff billowed up from Moon Dreamer’s lodge.

Conquering Horse slid forward to his knees. He lifted his arms in supplication. “My father, my father, is this a true thing? Did the white mare tell you this thing in truth? My father, how can this be, when we love you very much and do not wish to see you killed?”

“My son, do not cry. I go to a place of peace. My shadow soul goes to the south where it will no longer be troubled by the pains of life. My shadow soul will not visit you nor frighten you in this life. Remember this, my son. While you still remain here in misery, I will be happy in death.”

Lightning, then thunder, smashed into the tumble of red rocks across the river. Almost immediately after, the sprinkling thickened into a heavy rain. It drenched the tepees and those standing without.

“My son, it does not matter where the body lies, for it is as grass. But where the spirit is, there it will be a good place to be. My son, be not like a woman. Do not kneel, but stand on your feet. Come, call up Circling Hawk and his braves and prepare for the battle.”

Conquering Horse got up as one commanded in a trance.

Buckskins soaking wet, holding his lance high, Redbird walked in a stately manner out of the village circle. He took the stepping stones across the red cataracts and climbed into the tumble of red rocks above Falling Water. Then, having set himself, he lifted his voice and began to sing his death chant in an eerie high- pitched voice:

Redbird pointed his lance at the black belly of the thunderhead, gazing upward in ecstasy, crying:

Redbird looked across the river toward the camp. When he saw that his son and the young braves still had not followed him, he cried aloud, “What, have I been a father to cowards? The white mare commands, my son. Even the Thunders obey her. She is your god. She is your vision. Come. Attack. It is fated.”

At that moment Moon Dreamer emerged from his lodge. He waggled his buffalo head back and forth and up and down. Fixing his eyes on Conquering Horse, he cried, “What, and have I been a holy man to dogs? Advance, my sons, the gods wish it.”

Conquering Horse stiffened under the lashing words. His face flushed black. His eyes hardened and became fixed in the manner of a reptile. He looked at the guards sitting before the door of the council lodge, then gave an explosive gesture downward, the sign for death.

Immediately Circling Hawk and a dozen braves came bursting out of the council lodge, all of them bristling with honor feathers and armed with warclubs.

Conquering Horse gestured again, first to the left, then to the right. “Charge!” he cried. “Hokay-hey! you see the enemy. Surround him.”

Quickly the braves ran for the river, leaping across, and began to surround the tumble of red rocks. They shrilled cupped yells. “Oh-ow-ow-ow!”

Star and Loves Roots and Leaf, and all the people, came out of their tepees. They stood in the heavy rain and watched. Star and Loves Roots and Leaf lifted their voices, chanting, their voices wild and haunting. Others of the women fell to their knees and wept. Some tore their clothes. Some held a hand over their eyes. All cried as with one voice, “Father, father, why are you fighting us?”

Redbird lifted his copper-tipped lance four times and cried down at the advancing braves. “Ho-hech-e-tu! It is a good day to die. Come, defend yourselves.”

Then, just as Conquering Horse and the young warriors climbed into the tumble of red rocks and were about to fall on Redbird, the Thunders spoke. A long pink tongue of fire licked down out of the churning black cloud above and ticked the copper tip of Redbird’s lance. There was a dazzling explosion, completely enveloping Redbird. The explosion was so great it hurled Conquering Horse and the young braves entirely out of the tumble of red rocks and threw them backward upon the ground.

When the people looked again, after the lightning spots had cleared from their eyes, Redbird was gone.

Conquering Horse and the braves slowly picked themselves off the ground.

The old men stood in numb wordlessness.

The little children ran cowering to their grandmothers.

Star and Loves Roots and Leaf, and all the women, began to wail dismally beside their tepees in the pelting rain, slowly scarifying their breasts and legs.

Conquering Horse surveyed the red rocks and the river and the camp beyond, then lifted his hand and cried in a great voice, “He-han! It has at last been given us. Now we see. Now we know. Wakantanka has tested us all and found us worthy. Therefore,
he told the Thunders to come for our father as they had promised him. Because of this the white mare could also give the son of the father all that she had promised him. The prophecy has been fulfilled. Hi-ye!”

Conquering Horse took his knife and, slicing, ran it around his left forefinger. “My father, this I do in memory of you. Take this finger and keep it until I come for it in the afterlife.” Conquering Horse snapped the finger off at the knuckle and threw it at the skies in the direction his father had gone.

At Wralda
December 2, 1958

GLOSSARY

Butte of Thunders. Thunder Butte in South Dakota.

Falling Water. The falls on the Big Sioux River in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

Great Smoky Water. The Missouri River.

Increasing Moon. First quarter.

Moon of Black Cherries. July.

Moon of Fat Horses. June.

Moon of First Eggs. May.

Moon of New Grass. April.

Moon of Ripe Corn. August.

Moon of Scarlet Plums. September.

Nibbled Moon. Second quarter.

Place of the Pipestone. Pipestone quarry in the Pipestone National Monument, Pipestone, Minnesota.

Place of Six Strange Boulders. The Two Maidens in the Pipestone National Monument, Pipestone, Minnesota.

River of Blue Mud. Blue River in Nebraska.

River of Little Ducks. Republican River in Nebraska.

River of Milky Water. Minnesota River.

River of the Double Bend. The Big Sioux River which drains Siouxland.

River That Sinks. The Platte River in Nebraska.

River With Red Blood. The Red River which forms the boundary between Minnesota and the two Dakotas.