Chapter 3: The Cheyenne Ways

As spring slowly came to the mountains Tom realized that he was happier than he had ever been in his life. He was now thirteen and almost as tall as Gray Eagle himself. He moved with the confidence and grace of a cat. He had spent the last month learning to fight. With fists, knives, clubs or just about anything that could be found. Gray Eagle was a great fighter, and he taught Tom everything that he knew. Tom had done badly at first, but soon found out that it was more a matter of response. The more that he tried to think about it, the slower he moved. He had to learn to rely on his reactions to be quick and accurate. The wrong choice was punished with pain, and the right choice was rewarded with continuing the fight. Only if he could continue would he have a chance to win.

When he did win, it surprised him, but Gray Eagle was proud of him as well. Over and over they fought, and he had the scars to prove it. Now every movement was calculated to advantage, every glance told him everything around him. He found it rare that things could get near him without his knowing, even from the smallest bug. His eyes were always moving and taking in everything that was there. He won more than he lost with his battles with Gray Eagle. Gray Eagle sported as many bruises as Tom did, and both of them limped as they walked, but both were wearing smiles.

As Tom stoked the fire from the night before, he knew that Gray Eagle was standing behind him. He was prepared for the blow, but it didn't come. When he turned and raised his eyebrow Gray Eagle just smiled and said, "I knew that you were ready for the attack, I could see it in your stance. You have learned everything that I can teach you. We must now return to the village. Spring comes and once again our enemies will come to our land." Tom thought about this for a long time. Who was his enemy? Did he see the white settlers as the enemy? Tom still wasn't sure about this.

They had covered a large distance during the winter and on the return trip Gray Eagle headed out onto the plains. Tom still hated the plains, but he knew that Gray Eagle did nothing without a reason. They traveled for many days in the plains, and Tom found that his hatred of them was his ignorance of them. Once he learned about the plains they were as much a part of him, as the mountains and the valleys. On the fifth day in the plains they came upon the remains of a large buffalo herd. It had been slaughtered as it stood.

Tom was appalled at the destruction. Gray Eagle explained that the white man had slaughtered them as they stood, and then stripped the hides and left the meat to rot on the bones. Their very existence was threatened by the white man, and his greed. Gray Eagle explained that this was just one herd that had been slaughtered, but that there was hundreds, and all of them stripped of their hides with the meat rotting on the ground. If the white man could not be stopped, they would starve before they could learn to adapt.

Tom understood the reason for the attack on the wagon train, and he also understood that any white man that could do something like that would be his enemy. He had learned to live by taking what you need, and here was mass destruction, for no more reason than to line the pockets of greedy men. His father had been like that, as well as every man in the wagon train. Yes, now he understood. Greed was his enemy, and the white man lived for money and power. The white man had to be turned back, or stopped.

When he said this to Gray Eagle he only laughed. He said that the white man could not be turned back, or stopped. He could only be slowed down, until they could have a chance to learn to change and to adapt to the changing ways that the white man brought with him. As Tom thought about this, he knew that Gray Eagle was right. They could never win, but they could slow the change. He knew that he would do anything that was needed to slow that change. When he told Gray Eagle of his thoughts, the older man gave him a warm smile and said that he was now Cheyenne. He now knew the land and the people, what they fought for, and why they could not lose. For if they lost, the Cheyenne people were doomed. Tom nodded his understanding.

It was almost a month later that they walked back into the village. They had been gone for more than six months. The people were happy to see Gray Eagle, and a few were even happy to see Tom. All of them noticed the changes in him, and some feared him. He could sense it easily as he saw their hands resting on their knives.

That evening there was a big celebration. The whole village sang and danced. Everyone had a good time. Before Tom could drink anything Gray Eagle shook his head, and Tom passed the jug on to the next warrior. He sat and watched as his people celebrated the return of their chief.

As the dancing speeded up into a frenzied tempo, Gray Eagle stood and looked around the fire. Everyone became quiet, expectant of his words. He didn't disappoint them, "My people, your joy gladdens my heart, and honors me. But today is a day of even more joy. For I have come before you to tell you that I have decided to take Tom as my son. He is now to be called Fighting Hawk. He has learned the ways of the Cheyenne, and will protect the ways of the Cheyenne people." There were some cheers, and some whisperings, but the general attitude was stunned silence.

The challenge came quickly as a knife was suddenly sticking in the ground at Gray Eagles feet. Suddenly everyone was quiet. Gray Eagle looked down at the knife, and then looked up to confront Little Buffalo.

Little Buffalo snarled as he said, "A white as Gray Eagle's son! I would rather see a dog lead the Cheyenne then to have a white leading us to our doom." Little Buffalo glared and waited for Gray Eagle to accept the challenge.

Gray Eagle turned to Tom. He spoke loud enough for everybody to hear, "Son, it appears that Little Buffalo doesn't think that you would be a good Cheyenne warrior. Would you like to accept this challenge for me? It will show everybody that you know the Cheyenne ways, and that you will fight for them. Besides, Little Buffalo isn't enough of a warrior to stand before me." Tom knew that Gray Eagle was insulting him to drive his anger to a dangerous level. It would give Tom his best advantage.

Tom stood slowly and spoke for the first time, "Father, I would be happy to accept the challenge in your name, against the dog that would ruin your celebration." There were gasps at his words. Everybody knew that Little Buffalo had designs on being the next chief. Tom knew that the people remembered the lanky boy that had left with Gray Eagle last fall, and they knew that even though he was bigger and stronger, he was still a boy. To openly insult Little Buffalo, in such a fashion required him to kill Tom to save his honor.

Tom knew that he had planned it already, as soon as the challenge was made. Gray Eagle smiled as he looked into Tom's eyes; they both knew what must be done. Not a word was spoken as Tom picked up the knife and sunk it between Little Buffalo's feet. He didn't flinch as the blade spun to its' target. When it hit the ground there was a mad scramble to clear the area. This was an honor fight and once started, anybody in the way would be killed as quickly as the warriors involved.

Tom slowly pulled his knife and casually waited; every muscle tense and vibrating. He looked calm, but his nerves screamed for sudden action. He watched as Little Buffalo bent to pick up his knife. Once in hand he stood waiting. The advantage was his anger; Tom needed him to make a mistake. "What's the matter? Scared of a little white boy with a knife?" Tom smiled at him as he watched his anger eat at him. "I knew that you were nothing but a loud mouth coward." Tom turned his back on him to walk away, and he attacked. Tom knew that he would. He dropped down and spun around, Little Buffalo was moving too fast to stop and he knew that he had been a fool. Tom brought the knife up quickly and buried it into his stomach. As he pulled the blade clear, Little Buffalo fell to the ground.

Tom rolled to the side waiting for him to rise. Even though it was a good solid thrust, he was not dead yet. Little Buffalo knew that he had been played for a fool, but the damage had been done. Even if he won, he might still die. Tom changed the knife to his left hand. Gray Eagle had taught him that you had to be good with both hands. Tom moved in quickly and his first cut was on Little Buffalo's knife arm. Little Buffalo howled as his knife sliced through air. Tom had dove to the side, rolled and came to his feet. He crouched down waiting for his move, and he didn't disappoint Tom. Gray Eagle had fallen for the same move, and Tom knew what he needed to do. As Little Buffalo lunged to take advantage of tom's poor stance, Tom dove once again to the side of his legs. Tom cleanly sliced though the muscles at the base of his heel. Little Buffalo suddenly toppled as his leg gave out. Tom was on his feet circling as he wallowed in the dirt.

Tom heard the astonished sounds from the people; he tuned them out. He knew that he couldn't afford the distraction. He had to end this quickly now, before Little Buffalo passed out and it took days for him to die, unless he got lucky enough to live. Tom was just close enough to whisper to him, "Yes, another Little Buffalo, and I will skin you and leave your meat to rot." That did it. Little Buffalo's eyes focused on Tom and he struggled to his feet. Tom waited, he had to wait, to attack Little Buffalo on the ground in an honor fight would be the most cowardly move possible, and it would demand Tom's death. Then Little Buffalo was up and staggering toward Tom, He stepped to the side of each thrust. Tom made sure not to inflict any more damage. Little Buffalo's arm swung as he shouted insults at him. Tom ignored them all, and continued to avoid his blade. It looked harder than it really was. Little Buffalo had no balance, and his loss of blood was starting make him weak. Tom waited and when he insulted Tom with a particularly vile insult, he made his move. Tom walked straight toward him, Little Buffalo thought that he had finally managed to anger Tom and that he was acting foolishly. It was far from the truth. Tom had to finish him quickly, before he passed out, and ended the fight still alive.

Little Buffalo waited and thrust as soon as Tom was close enough, but Tom knew what to expect and brushed his knife aside, and thrust his knife directly into Little Buffalo's throat. The tip came out the back of his neck, and Tom twisted as he pulled the knife free and walked away, without looking back. Little Buffalo hit the ground with a thud, and there was no question in anybody's mind that he was dead before he hit the ground. Tom calmly wiped the blood from his knife and placed it back in his sheath. He then looked to Gray Eagle as he took his place back at the feast circle.

Gray Eagle smiled quickly to him as he stood to once again to address the people of the village. "Cheyenne people, my son was named for the hawk. Like the hawk, he is swift and sure, he shows no fear and he knows how to fight. And like the Cheyenne, he knows who his enemy is and he will do what he must to fight his enemy. If there are any others among you that does not believe that Fighting Hawk is a true Cheyenne, or that he is not my son, then let him now challenge." Gray Eagle looked slowly around the massed villagers. He met each eye as he looked to them. There were no further challenges. Gray Eagle then said, "As chief of the Cheyenne, I will ask if there is any who wish to challenge Fighting Hawk. Any friends, or family of Little Buffalo, that believes that it is for his honor that he must avenge his death." Once again Gray Eagle looked at he assembled people, and Tom stood waiting for the challenge. No challenge came.

Gray Eagle nodded as he once more spoke to the people, "The challenge is ended. Any man now trying to take revenge for Little Buffalo will be shown as a coward, and hunted and killed like a coward. In the ways of the Cheyenne people, all possessions of Little Buffalo now belong to Fighting Hawk, if any challenge this let him now speak." Once again the people all remained silent. When Gray Eagle sat back at the feast circle women quickly moved in to offer food and drink to Gray Eagle and Fighting Hawk. As they took the food and drink, Tom whispered, "You knew what was going to happen and you have been preparing me for that fight. What if I had lost?"

Gray Eagle smiled as he whispered back, "Then I wouldn't have a son, and Little Buffalo would still be dead. For two summers Little Buffalo has only been waiting for a reason to challenge me. I allowed you to fight him in my place. If you won then Little Buffalo would be dead, and you would be accepted as a Cheyenne warrior. If you lost, I knew that Little Buffalo would be wounded, and then I would avenge your death. Even if he was faster than me, you would have taken some of his speed, and I would have won. Either way, Little Buffalo was dead as soon as he challenged." Tom considered his words.

"So you used me to soften up your enemy?" Gray Eagle was slow to answer, and it looked like he had to consider his words. "Yes, I used you to destroy Little Buffalo. I knew that you would not survive the first raid that Little Buffalo was on. Your death would have put me in the position of accepting a challenge. If you were to die I thought that you would rather it be in a fight of honor rather than the knife of Little Buffalo in your sleep." Tom considered his words, and he knew that Gray Eagle was probably right. Little buffalo would have done that, Tom was sure. So he had to consider the motives of Gray Eagle. As he sat and ate his food, he watched the dancing. It was once again soft and quiet, but it gained momentum quickly.

Tom Whispered to Gray Eagle, "You are a clever man. You prepare me to fight your battles, and destroy your enemies. You used everything to get what you wanted. If I had lost, you would have lost nothing, and gained much. You are a good leader of the Cheyenne people." Gray Eagle nodded his agreement of the situation, and as he rose to leave the celebration he whispered back to Tom, "Yes I would, I would have lost a son." Then he walked into the darkness toward his lodge.

During the celebration Fighting Hawk was congratulated on his fighting skill. Little Buffalo held a position in the tribe, and now Fighting Hawk held that position. He found that being Gray Eagle's son also gave him status in the tribe. He found many people looking to become his friend. He knew what these people cared nothing for him, and they only wanted to use him for their own games. His talks with Gray Eagle during the long winter had prepared him for this as well. He smiled as he understood just how well Gray Eagle had prepared things.