Chapter 12

What was certain would be an issue that had no resolution ... well, just resolved itself.

Soaring Eagle just looked at me, said something I did not understand to He Who Laughs Loud, and started packing up our gear.

I did get her command to me was, “We Go. Where home?”

More than 350 of the Nakota (her people who had survived, mostly women and children) were also packing up, and readying to move out.

Her shooing motion made it clear she did not need or want my help.

Ghost Bear and the rest of the Ghost Warriors were standing around He Who Laughs Loud close to arguing about something. I had to see what was going on. My wife had made it clear she thought I had more important things to do than pack up. In a way she was correct, for in the next few minutes what went on would affect many of us ... White and Indian too.

He Who Laughs Loud said something about the guns I had given the Ghost Warriors. They assumed I wanted them back, even Ghost Bear was going to do this although you could see his heart was not in it.

What to do?

I spoke, to all. “I thought these were all gifts to my friends. Those friends are the reason you, I and the Princess are still alive. Would my friends now want to shame me after saving my life by giving them back?”

He translated that, and had a big smile on his face, as if saying: ‘See, told you so.’

I quickly changed the subject. We have gold (2 big bags of it which Ghost Bear had given me) which I will spend to buy supplies for the survivors, and anything else the Kiowa and Crazy Horse want to take back. I know that I can only use a few more of the mules, so everything else you should ask Soaring Eagle how to distribute them, she is Chief of our people, after all.

I guess in that sentence all other doubts and questions were now answered. “Our Indian (almost) wagon train headed back home, my home ... excuse me, our home in Texas. I wondered if Ma and Pa would be surprised.

Our Indian troop, nearly 400 strong now, got an Indian escort, so to speak, Crazy Horse had lent some of his Sioux to the 50 or so Kiowa, and we still had all the Ghost Warriors with us. If anyone saw us; one, they did not stick around, and two I don’t think any saw us.

Our troop stopped about five miles outside Dallas. I rode in, got poor Mr. Jenkins to filling some new orders, and went to the bank. I turned that gold into coins, and went over to that ‘robber’ at the telegraph. I sent one home, telling told them ‘we’ were coming back home, and ‘we’ included my new bride.

I got all the general staff type tents Mr. Jenkins had, and told him to order more. I added more flour, sugar, beans, baking soda, corn meal, dried peas, and the ‘nectar of the gods’, coffee, to each cache. In all, we led twenty-seven wagons or mules out, about four miles out of town. I thanked the drivers, gave them each an eagle ($10) and watched them pile into a spare wagon for the ride back into town. Then I waited. My escort came within an hour. Half of the stuff was for the Sioux and Kiowa to take back, while the other half was for what was left of Soaring Eagle’s kin, now mine too, I guessed. I still had the feather she had placed in my hair, and had added the one Crazy horse gave me.