Silken Savage (21 page)

Panther was lying next to her, asleep, exhausted from his vigil. Tanya poked him lightly in the ribs, struggling to speak. “Panther,” she croaked.

He groaned and stirred lightly.

“Panther.”

This time he awoke, his dark eyes flying open to meet hers.

“I’m thirsty,” she complained, and they were the sweetest words he’d ever heard.

“Wildcat,” he whispered. “You are awake.”

Tanya tried to nod and winced at the pain shooting through her head. “I think so,” she moaned.

Panther brought her some water, holding the cup to her parched lips. “How do you feel?”

“Awful! I must be alive, because I hurt too much to be dead,” she joked lamely.

“Do not joke about such a thing, Wildcat,” he admonished gently, his eyes suspiciously wet. “You have been unconscious for a full seven suns, and there were times I was sure you would slip away from us.” Tanya blinked tiredly. “Never, Panther. I love you too much to leave you. You should know that by now.” Tanya slept a lot over the next week, but it was a natural, healing rest. She’d lost weight the week she’d been unconscious and unable to eat, and now she had to work her way up slowly, starting with weak broth. Slowly she regained her strength and health. Her lungs finally cleared, and her throat and head quit hurting. One fact remained. During her illness and recovery period, she’d been unable to nurse Hunter and with no nourishment, her milk dried up. There would be no more breastfeeding.

“What shall we do?” Tanya asked of Panther.

“It is already done,” he told her. “Hunter is old enough now to drink from a cup. He has had to learn while you were ill, and is doing fairly well.”

“Yes, but he needs his milk yet,” she argued. Panther grinned, “He has it,” he told her. “I was too concerned with you to think of it, but Melissa talked to your mother. Woman-To-Be-Hereafter presented the problem to Black Kettle. When no one was found in the village able to nurse him, Black Kettle sent Towering Pine on a raiding mission, and the warrior returned leading a stolen she-goat.”

Panther took pleasure in relating the tale to her. “Towering Pine nearly got his rear branches shot off in the process, but he returned unharmed and triumphant.”

Tanya chuckled appreciatively. “But, Panther, a goat!”

“Black Kettle thought it was time we had one around to add distinction to the village.” He gave her a broad wink. “And don’t you dare tell him otherwise.”

Tanya gave him a conspiratorial grin. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

March brought with it the advent of spring, and several things happening at once. Shy Deer gave birth to a son, and Winter Bear was proud as a peacock. Hunter had his first birthday, and now sported twelve gleaming teeth. Tanya, at age eighteen, found herself expecting Panther’s second child. She had been with the tribe for almost two years now, and Panther’s wife for a year and a half. It seemed sometimes that she’d always been here, a part of this life; and her first sixteen years seemed a half-forgotten dream.

As soon as travel became possible, the tribe moved to a place on Crooked Creek for the Sun Dance ceremonies. This year, Tanya was not an outsider any longer. She renewed aquaintances with the children she had met two years previously, and now their mothers were receptive to her. Tanya now had her place in the tribe and a voice in the proceedings, and she enjoyed the responsibilities as well as the comraderie.

It was while the tribes were all gathered for the ceremonies that Rosemary was sold. Actually her master traded her off for a horse. When the tribes split up for the summer hunt, Rosemary went another direction with her new master and tribe.

Of the five girls who had been captured together two years previously Rosemary was the first to leave Black Kettle’s tribe. Tanya and Melissa were saddened to see her go, wondering if they would ever see her again. They hoped she would be treated decently.

Of the four remaining women, Tanya and Melissa were faring the best now, but all had accepted their fates, and after two years, even Suellen had given up hope of rescue. Suellen had not crossed swords with Tanya since her beating, though her eyes told Tanya she’d made an enemy for life. Nancy, though treated fairly well, now was pregnant, her baby due in the winter.

As summer approached, Black Kettle’s tribe moved south and hunted along the Cimarron and Beaver Rivers, following the buffalo herds through the northern Oklahoma and Texas territories. Peace was tentative at best, for the Northern Cheyenne and Dog Soldiers were once again stirring up trouble with the whites, and vice-versa. War was imminent, and it didn’t matter who struck first, white or Indian. The only trouble was, most whites could not tell one Indian from another, and often a perfectly innocent tribe was attributed deeds done by another. After being accused of several attacks they’d had nothing to do with, some Southern Cheyenne entered the conflicts. Even Black Kettle, with all his influence and peaceful intentions, could not prevent Panther and Winter Bear from taking their warriors on a few, scattered raids that season.

Over all, the summer was fairly peaceful. The warriors had a few skirmishes and successful raids, but spent most of their time hunting. War with the whites did not break out full-scale, but the tensions were definitely felt on both sides. Things were gradually building to a head, and Tanya could only pray winter would set in to stop it before things went that far.

Tanya detested having to go through the major part of her last months of pregnancy in the summer. The heat, the stench of the hides and meat, the hard physical labor, and the constant moving about from place to place, were sapping her energy. By the end of September she felt huge. She was an oddity in the village as it was, for most Cheyenne women did not get pregnant so quickly, so often. Perhaps it was something to do with their diets, or the fact that most of them nursed their children longer; but the average Cheyenne woman had two, perhaps three children at most, and there was usually four years or more between their ages. This made Tanya feel like the local fertility symbol. It also made Panther appear extremely virile, which bolstered his ego to no end.

Toward fall, the tribe wandered back into the area where the women had planted their crops. After the harvest and hunting festivities were over, they headed for a new site for the winter. This year, Black Kettle chose a sight some forty miles south of the Antelope Hills on the Washita River.

For five days they had been traveling to reach this area, and Tanya had been feeling worse with each passing day. Now, on the fifth day, she was feeling more terrible with each mile. Since early morning her back had ached abominably, and the horse jarred her spine with each step. Now the pain was spreading around to her stomach, which felt rock-hard and ready to explode. A wave of nausea and dizziness nearly toppled her from her horse and sweat broke out on her forehead. She wished she could lie down, but with her stomach in her way, she could not even lean forward on the mare.

“How much further is it, Missy?” she gasped.

Melissa, who had been eyeing Tanya curiously for the last few miles, answered, “I don’t know, Wildcat. Should I ask Panther?”

Tanya bit her lip, “Better yet, bring him to me.” She and Melissa had been riding further back behind the warriors.

Within minutes Melissa returned with Panther. One look at her pale, strained face, and he knew. “Your time has come.”

Tanya nodded. “Is it far yet?”

“Just a few more miles. Can you make it?”

Tanya laughed ruefully. “I don’t know. Is it possible to have a baby on horseback? It is a bit awkward to give birth while sitting on the child’s head.”

Panther pulled her mare to a halt and reached for Tanya. “Come,” he said. “You will ride with me the rest of the way. I will hold you before me in my arms, and you will be able to relax and be more comfortable.”

Tanya rode the rest of the way cradled in Panther’s arms. After what seemed a century, her pains now coming hard and fast, he said, “We are nearly there. Soon you will be able to lie down.”

Tanya tried to joke between clenched teeth. “They’d better get the birthing tent up fast, or I’ll have this baby in the open. I’m making a terrible habit of avoiding that birthing lodge, aren’t I?”

Panther chuckled, “I wonder if you planned it this way.”

The first tipi to go up was the birthing lodge, and Tanya was hustled inside. “This won’t take long Panther,” she called to him. “Have Melissa keep my meal warm.”

Ten minutes later, Tanya delivered a perfectly healthy, howling baby boy. Panther had a second son. Within two hours, displaying a stubborness beyond measure, she carried her newborn son to her own lodge.

To a stunned Panther, she explained, “Root Woman said if I was strong enough to walk through camp to our own tipi, she would let me come home and not keep me in that stupid lodge.”

“You are a stubborn woman, Wildcat,” he told her, his black eyes glowing, “and I love you for it. Welcome home.”

That evening, Black Kettle and Woman-To-Be-Hereafter came to see their new grandson. “My family has grown at an alarming rate since I adopted you, Wildcat,” Black Kettle teased her.

Taking the baby in his arms, he unfolded the blanket to view the child. “What is this?” he said, fingering a small red mark on the baby’s thigh.

“It is a birthmark,” Tanya explained.

“Look here.” Black Kettle held the small thigh so all could see it. “It is in the shape of a bow and arrow. It is the mark of the archer,” he suggested.

Panther agreed. “Yes, Uncle. It is plainly a bow drawn with an arrow nocked and ready. As you said, the mark of the archer.”

“That is what you should call the child,” Black Kettle decided. “His name should be Mark-of-the-Archer.”

Hunter-of-the-Forest didn’t know quite what to make of his new brother. He certainly took up much of his mother’s time and attention. Because of this, Panther took extra pains to pay special attention to Hunter at this time in his young life.

When they had been camped there about two weeks, word came from Fort Larned that the U.S. government, and General Sheridan in particular, had declared war on the Cheyenne and Arapahoe tribes because of all the trouble they had encountered over the summer. These tribes were considered troublemakers, and the government was out to teach them a lesson. Cavalry troops were on the look-out for them, and any and all rebellious Indians were to be dealt with severely. All previous peace treaties were considered null and void, and if the tribes wished to keep any of their lands at all or receive any government aid, they were to turn themselves over to the U.S. Army and swear oaths of allegiance at once. Any tribe failing to do so would be considered an enemy of the United States.

Black Kettle, upon hearing this, prepared at once to go to the nearest fort and get matters straightened out. His tribe had caused relatively little trouble, and Black Kettle had always been noted for his willingness to maintain peace between his people and the white men. Taking several of his warriors with him, he headed for Fort Cobb, the closest fort to his camp.

Once there, he tried to obtain an agreement of peace for his tribe, but General Hagen, having no word or authorization from his superiors about this, refused to negotiate. He turned Black Kettle away, telling him to return to his people on the Washita and await word there.

Black Kettle returned to camp in the late afternoon to tell his tribe of this discouraging development. Several of his chiefs were uneasy that the army knew the location of their camp, and wanted to move to a new location immediately. Black Kettle refused, saying he had given his word to the army, and he would keep it. A conference was held, and Panther, Winter Bear, and a few other warriors were sent to three other villages further downriver to advise their leaders of the result of Black Kettle’s trip and get their opinions on what should be done. They left that evening, though a fierce blizzard had already hit, traveling through deep, blowing snow to reach the other camps. As Black Kettle’s encampment was bordered across the river one way by a steep bluff, the couriers had to cross the freezing river twice because of its twists and curves to reach the neighboring villages some ten miles down stream. It took some time to get there, and as it was quite late when they had relayed the messages, they decided to wait and return to Black Kettle’s camp the next day.

Tanya was up early the next morning, breastfeeding Mark-of-the-Archer. It was a still, grey dawn typical of winter. The smoke hung heavy and low over the tops of the tipis. Melissa and Hunter slept peacefully beneath their piles of fur. The only sound was the occasional bark of a camp dog. The snow was deep and Tanya wondered how soon Panther would return.

There was no warning before the attack. One minute it was so still Tanya could hear Mark’s soft breathing. The next, the air was filled with the sounds of gunfire, whistling bullets, the jangle of metal harnesses and swords, and the screams of the wounded. Shoving Mark roughly aside, Tanya jerked open the tent flap. Everywhere, she saw a sea of blue army uniforms.

Tanya’s heart sank as she realized what was happening, and her brain screamed over and over again, “No! No! No! No! No!”

FOR TIMELESS seconds, Tanya sat motionless, her mind unable to accept what her eyes were seeing. Cheyenne were dashing from their tipis in various stages of dress, some trying to reach their horses, some seeking to escape the barrage of bullets flying into their lodges, others fleeing from already burning tents.

Melissa’s terrified screams jerked Tanya back to life. She called Kat to her. “Go get Panther, Kat,” she told him, ushering him out of the tipi. “Get Panther!” She watched as the cougar dashed out and quickly disappeared.

Staying as low as she could, Tanya crawled back to Mark and pulled Hunter from his bed. Grabbing the first clothes her hands touched, she dressed mechanically, shoving her knife into her belt and snatching up her bow and quiver. Little good they would do her, outnumbered as they were.

Her mind in a whirl, she ordered Melissa to keep the children quiet and again crept to the tipi entrance to peer out. In the few minutes she had taken, her world had turned into a living hell. In shocked disbelief she watched as soldiers fired upon men, women, and children alike. Racing their horses among the tipis, they trampled anyone in their path. Tanya’s mind screamed out in horror as she saw a young child speared through the stomach and tossed into the air on the point of a bayonet. The old, feeble shaman stepped out of his tipi and was immediately trampled. The soldier hauled up on his reins and deliberately rode his horse back and forth over the bleeding body, as Tanya watched, unable to prevent any of it. Swiftly, she got off two arrows, but both fell short of her target.