Chapter 10

I’ll cut to the chase and just try to write what talk Soaring Eagle relayed to me of what the brave said.

“My name is Ghost Bear. We, all of us, mean you no harm. We all were sent to help you, Princess Soaring Eagle to revenge those you lost.

We are all ‘Ghosts.’ We have sung our songs, finished our dances, and will serve you until we die, even the White. Our Chief, Satanta, aids his brother Chief Red Cloud of the Lakota. We will follow where you and the Great Spirit shall go.” (‘Ghost’ beliefs had their start long before the 1880’s for the Plains Tribes.)

The Ghost Dance (Natdia) later became more common for the Plains Indians. It is a spiritual movement that became common in the late 1880s when conditions were bad on Indian reservations and the Ghost Dance concept was developed into the magic of ‘Ghost Shirts’, which, supposedly, were protection garments that a warrior could wear. They were said to repel bullets through spiritual power. Many believed that in 1890 chief Kicking Bear introduced the concept to his people, the Lakota Sioux, when The United States government (you might never have guessed) once again broke a Lakota treaty by ‘adjusting’ the Great Sioux Reservation of South Dakota. The White Man’s greed took over from there.

Just recently, it might have caught up some. In 2014, in September, about $542 Million was granted back East to a very small tribe as compensation for broken treaties by the U S Government. Not their land back! Oh, no! That was too valuable to give back, a Senator probably had his hunting preserve there! After all, who did those Indians think they were?

As I said before, J D did not want his ‘troop’ hurt, even if they were Indians. That made him worry a bit now about those dogs, too. He had seen the blood but they all looked alive and seemed well.

The brave said, “We are sent by the Great Spirit here to help you. This is something we do not understand, nor do we need to. Our Chief has said we are to be yours to command.”

You could have knocked all three of us over with a biscuit. The look on my face paled to the look on Soaring Eagle’s. I have to hand it to her though; she did not miss a beat.

“We go now. We kill and avenge my people!”

An introduction seemed in order. We were now Sioux, Kiowa and White fighting our own small war. If I learned anything during that ‘dust up’ back East, was that superior firepower usually won the battle. Soaring Eagle told our dozen or so merry men that we would be few though, and that ‘our’ enemy’s numbers were great. “Prepare for your Death, wash your bodies and paint yourselves as ready for the end, for tomorrow we shall all die.”

Anyone else hearing her words would cringe or shy away. Not these guys. They all seemed to act as though they had won the biggest poker game in Texas. I looked at Soaring Eagle and she was coming towards me, carrying a wet cloth and what looked like war paint.

She knelt down before me, reached for my shirt and pulled it over my head and began washing me then painting my body to be ready for a Warrior’s death, an Indian Warrior no less.

That might not have raised much concern if I was from her village, but that I was a White, not from her tribe and now the odd man out amongst a dozen Indians made her action one that soon became the focus of attention of everyone except Soaring Eagle and myself ... at least, I thought so. When I looked around, though, everyone was busy doing something else. He Who Laughs Loud was tending to all three dogs. Our new team were making camp, sending our enemy’s bodies to their proper places, minus a few body parts, and readying our blankets for sleep.

It was as though words were no longer necessary between her and I. I looked in her eyes, made a motion to my Colts and saw her nod. Motioning He Who Laughs Loud over, she told him something. He and I went to the horses and pack mules. Each Ghost Warrior was handed one of the new Winchester rifles, a D A Colt and 200.44-40 shells. They were also issued some food, an extra blanket, and any number of things that had been taken earlier from the attackers.

That night I don’t know what created more discussion, the horses, gifts and guns; or that the Princess and I were sleeping together. The sudden shoves and cold wet noses, although woke us both of us from what I assume were pleasant dreams, were not unwelcome. Those dogs were as much a part of this as anyone else. Something happened, then. Rex, the big male went down, lying over her legs. She turned over towards me, her naked body hard to ignore, told the dog ‘quiet’ we needed our sleep; then she took my arm and placed it around her body.

I guess that must have meant something to her. I know it did to me.

I did not hear her leave my side in the morning, but I awoke to the smell of coffee, beans and bacon served to me by, who I supposed, was my new wife. About all both of us could do was smile. I took a sip of coffee, then placed the tin cup to her mouth. She too took a sip. She took some bacon, bit off a piece then placed it in my mouth. I took her in my arms and we started rocking back and forth.