XIIThe Mysterious Mother-Power
When Eagle Voice had ceased chuckling, the look of boyish merriment left his face, and for some time he sat motionless with closed eyes and bowed head, his hands upon his knees. He seemed very far away, as though the drifted wastes of many winters stretched between us. When I had fed the stove again, I said, only meaning to arouse him: “And did you get the hundred ponies and the scalps, and did High Horse get the girl at last?”
He lifted his head, gazing through me and beyond. Then the far look shortened slowly, and he smiled. “It is a story, Grandson,” he said, “and you are in a hurry again, Wasichu that you are. There is a road, and what you ask is yonder. We are going on the war-path.”
“‘But before we go, Grandfather,’ I said, ‘tell me why Lakotas sold their women. Wasichus sell their horses, but their women they give away. Was a Lakota woman only an animal that a man should buy her?’
“Your heart is Lakota, Grandson,” the old man answered, smiling indulgently as upon a child, “but you ask a foolish question like a Wasichu. In the old days we did not buy and sell the way Wasichus do. We stole our horses from our enemies, daring much, for we were brave men. If we gave them to a father and asked him for his daughter, who should have a woman but a brave man good for something?
“Before the sacred hoop was broken it was made of men and women, and from each there was a power that kept it strong. I think, before we go to war, I will tell you anohunkastory about the power of women. Old people used to tell it in the night; and their grandchildren after them, grown old themselves; and their grandchildren too, and theirs, and theirs, the story is so old. Now all of those are gone and many more, and I will tell it, being old myself. Old people used to say that ifohunkastories were told by daylight, something bad would happen to the teller. Maybe he would get sick and die, or his grandson would bekilled, or his old woman would fall and break her hip. And I have even heard them say—” Here the old man paused to chuckle. “I have even heard them say he might grow long curly hair all over his backside; but maybe they were joking. Sometimes if somebody who wanted to hear made a gift, anohunkastory could be told on a dark day. You have made a gift, Grandson, and the day is dark, so I can tell it; and this is the story about the power of women.
“Many snows ago there were two young Lakota warriors. One was named Good Voice Hawk, and he was a very good-looking fellow. The other was called Brave Eagle, and he was not good-looking at all.
“There was a girl, too, and she was very beautiful. Also her father was awichasha yatapika[a man they praise], because he had counted many coups, had given much meat to the old people, and nobody could say anything but good of him. Of such men chieftains were made. The girl’s name was Red Hail, which is a sacred name; for hail and rain and lightning come together with the power to make live and to destroy; and red is a holy color.
“The people had camped in a pleasant place with plenty of wood, water, and grass; and the councilors had announced that it was a good time for war parties to go forth.
“Now these two young men had been talking to the girl whenever either could find her alone, for both wanted her very much. Good Voice Hawk, the handsome one, would talk much about himself and say little evil things about Brave Eagle; but Brave Eagle, the homely one, would just look at the girl for the most part, making few words and saying nothing bad about anybody.
“A big war party was about to set forth the next day, and the two young men would be going with it. Maybe Red Hail liked them both and could not choose between them. Anyway, that evening when it was dark, she stole up to the big tepee where Good Voice Hawk lived, and peeked in through a little hole. Everything was fine in there. The young man was sitting on his braided rawhide bed, and his mother, sitting on his left side, was gently combing his long hair and preparing it for braiding. On his right side sat the father, busy making new wraps on arrowheads for his son. A younger brother was at the fireplace in the center, keeping a bright flame alive so that there might be plenty of light. And while Red Hail watched, the younger sister of Good Voice Hawk came with a bowl ofwasnaand held it in front of her handsome brother, so that he might eat and enjoy himself before he went to war.
“Then Red Hail stole away in the darkness to a much smaller tepee where the other young man lived, and peeped in through the side ofthe flap. She saw nothing fine in there. Brave Eagle was sitting by the fire and he was busy wrapping arrows. The mother was sitting on her side of the tepee, the father on his, and the little brother was watching the young warrior. That was all she saw.
“Then Red Hail stole back to her own tepee, and what she thought the story does not tell.
“In the morning the war party started, passing the tepee of the girl, who stood there watching. Among the first came Good Voice Hawk, and surely he was very handsome on his fine horse that danced about as he paused to smile at Red Hail and let her see how handsome he was. And as he went, he often turned to look back at her again, until he passed out of sight over a hill. Last of all came Brave Eagle riding a mule, and he did not look at Red Hail at all, but just rode on and out of sight. Maybe there were no mules in the old days, but stories change like people, and this is how it came to me.
“When Red Hail’s father came back, the girl was crying, and she said, ‘Father, I want to be where the boys are. I want to go wherever they go.’ The father knew how it was with the girl, and after he had thought awhile he said, ‘My daughter, we will go together.’
“So when he had caught two good horses and everything was ready, they started after the party; and when they overtook it, camp was being made for the night.
“Now as the war party moved on, the people noticed Red Hail, because everyone knew about the two young warriors; and there was much talk of how Good Voice Hawk would bring her tender pieces of cooked meat when they camped in the evenings; but Brave Eagle did not bring her anything. Now and then the girl would ride ahead to sit upon a hill and sing when the two young men were passing; and there were some who said they heard a difference in the singing, and that it did not favor homely boys who rode on mules.
“One day when the war party was getting near to enemy country, theblotan hunka, who were the leaders of such parties, held council and decided to send out two scouts. Brave Eagle and Good Voice Hawk were chosen to go, maybe because everybody had been talking so much about them. So after they had been told just what to do, and it was growing dark, the two young men rode forth together, the one on his fine horse and the other on his mule. All night they rode towards the country of the enemy, and just as the day was beginning to break, they came to the sloping side of a bluff, sprinkled with stunted pines.
“Maybe there were people on the other side; so they tied the mule and the horse in a brushy place, and began crawling up the slope. It was notvery far to the top, but daybreak had brightened when they reached it, and there below them was a village with many smokes rising, and already the people were moving about.
“As the two scouts gazed, they heard hoofs coming, and out of the brush not very far away a band of horses came trotting, and after them rode a man who was driving them to a good feeding place for the day.
“Then Good Voice Hawk whispered to Brave Eagle, lying there beside him, ‘Cousin, let us kill the man and scalp him and drive the horses home.’ And Brave Eagle answered, ‘No, cousin, I think that would be wrong, for we are only scouts. We should tell theblotan hunkawhat we have seen, and they will know what is best to do.’ But Good Voice Hawk would not listen. ‘If you are afraid,’ he said, ‘of course I will do it myself.’
“He started crawling back and then got up and ran to where the mule and horse were tied. So what could Brave Eagle do but follow him? Should a warrior let his comrade fight alone, even if he is wrong?
“Now when they had ridden back to the top of the slope, there not very far away was the man with the band of horses. So Good Voice Hawk charged upon him, crying, ‘hoka-hey,’ in a loud voice; and Brave Eagle followed on his mule. The man had time to draw his bow and let an arrow fly, but he was so excited that he missed; and just as Good Voice Hawk came near, the man’s horse shied, and Good Voice Hawk charged by and did not touch him.
“Then Brave Eagle, who was close behind, with one swing of his war club struck the man from his horse; and already he had taken the scalp when the other circled back, crying, ‘Cousin, they are coming!’
“By now it looked very bad down there in the valley, for the people were boiling out of the village like a swarm of bumblebees, and over them a roar of voices grew. ‘Let us get out of here!’ cried Good Voice Hawk; and, without stopping to coup the enemy, he headed down the slope at a run; and after him went the homely warrior pounding on his mule.
“They were not very far out in the open country when, looking back, they saw many mounted warriors coming out of the pines back yonder, and they were coming very fast, because their horses were fresh and strong with plenty of grass. They were coming too fast for the mule, and it was beginning to look bad for those who fled, when Good Voice Hawk stopped his horse and cried out to his comrade, ‘Cousin, give me the scalp.’ And the other, who thought only of the scalp and that it might be taken from him, gave it to his comrade; for it was not his way to think bad things of people.
“Then Brave Eagle was all alone, kicking his mule along; and Good Voice Hawk grew smaller, fleeing yonder, and the sound of many hoofs behind grew louder.
“Well, that night the handsome young warrior rode into the camp of his people with a scalp to show and a brave story to tell. There were many, many enemies, too many for even the whole party to fight; but it was good to hear how Good Voice Hawk had fought until his friend was killed. Then he had fled, and only the Great Spirit and a fast horse had saved him.
“That night the people heard the sound of mourning in Red Hail’s tepee—weeping and mourning far into the night; and when the sound ceased, those who still listened thought, ‘The girl has cried herself to sleep at last!’
“But Red Hail had not slept; and when the morning came, she was not there. Wherever the people looked, she was not there either. She had just vanished like a spirit in the night, and her horse was grazing with the others near the camp.
“Now this is what had happened. While she was weeping in her tepee, Red Hail thought more and more, ‘I must go to see where he died’; and the thought was so big by the time her father fell off to sleep, that she went, creeping away into the darkness so that not even the horse-guards saw her.
“She was far away when the sun came, and when she had hidden in a clump of brush, she prayed that she might be led to where Brave Eagle had died; and then she fell asleep. And as she slept, a sacred power from her praying and her sorrow came upon her, and in a dream Brave Eagle came to her, alive as ever, and looked at her awhile the way he used to do. But there was such a light about him that he was not homely any more; and when she awoke, the sun was low and her heart was very strong.
“So when she had eaten of some roots and rabbit-berries that were growing there beside a creek, she started out again and walked all night. Again she slept and walked; and the sacred power must have led her, for she came at last to where the hoofs of many horses made a trail. It led her up a slope sprinkled with stunted pines, and when she reached the top it was beginning to get dark. There just below her in the valley was the village of the enemy, and the sound of drums and singing came to her; for in the center of the village was a fire and there the people danced as for a victory.
“And now the sacred power came upon Red Hail stronger than ever, and it told her that Brave Eagle was yonder in the village waiting to be tortured. So when the dark had come, she crawled down the bluff to acreek that ran close to the village, and there she sat in the brush awhile, praying that she might know what to do. And as she sat she began to sing a little song, very low, the way mothers sing to fretful children in the night. And while she sang, she took a piece of clay and shaped it to the singing until it was like a little baby that she swayed and comforted. And as she sang, the woman-power to make live and to destroy grew stronger all around her, spreading far. And the singing of the victors in the village slowly died away, and the drums were still, and even the bugs in the grasses made no sound.
“Then Red Hail placed the baby in a soft bed of grass and arose and went into the village. The fire was burning low as though it slept, and round about it in a circle lay the dancers, sleeping soundly; and no dog barked. The very ponies that had come from grazing in the dark to look upon the singing people in the light stood still as stones with noses to the ground.
“There was a tepee yonder, bigger than the others, and Red Hail’s power led her to it. And when she raised the flap and looked inside, there beyond the little sleeping fire in the center she saw Brave Eagle sitting, bound with thongs and sleeping soundly with his chin upon his breast. And, all around, the tepee guards were sitting, sleeping soundly with their chins upon their breasts.
“Then Red Hail stepped across the sleeping fire and touched Brave Eagle, and he awoke and looked at her the way he used to do, and the light upon his face was the same the dream had shown her.
“‘I have come for you,’ she said, ‘and we are going home.’ And that was the first time she had ever seen him smile. So when she had cut the thongs that bound him, Brave Eagle killed the guards with their own war clubs and took their scalps with their own knives.
“Then the two went about among the tepees, finding robes well tanned and soft, and pretty dresses finely made of elkskin, and moccasins well beaded, and parfleche panniers beautifully painted, and many other things to make a home. And these they packed upon six of the finest horses that slept with drooping heads till Red Hail stroked their noses and told them to awaken.
“Then they rode away and left the village sleeping soundly; and no one knows how long the village slept. All night they rode, Red Hail ahead, and after her the horses with their packs, and after them, Brave Eagle on his mule. And they were far away when daybreak came.
“Now while this was happening, the war party had grown weary of looking for Red Hail and had gone back home. And when at last the two with the horses and the packs came near the village of their people,they camped behind a hill, and peering from the top of it, they saw the people dancing yonder as for a victory.
“It was getting dark, and Brave Eagle said to Red Hail, ‘I will go to see my father, and you will watch the horses.’ So he crawled down the hill and came to a little tepee standing all alone outside the village. It was made of ragged hides and it was full of mourning. And when he raised the flap, he saw his father and his mother and his younger brother sitting there in ragged clothes, with their hair cut off and nothing in the tepee but their sorrow, for they had given everything away.
“And when Brave Eagle entered, they thought he was a ghost and just stared at him, afraid, until he spoke. And when he had told his story and heard that the people were dancing for Good Voice Hawk, his father said, ‘I will go to Red Hail’s father and tell him, for he is mourning too and has given everything away. We will say nothing to anyone else about this, and in the morning you will come with Red Hail and the horses and the packs.’
“So Brave Eagle went back to Red Hail there behind the hill. And in the morning when the dancing had begun again, some people saw the string of laden horses coming yonder with a woman leading them and a warrior in the rear. The dancing ceased and all the people stood and stared awhile without a word, for they could not yet believe they really saw. And around the circle of the village, left to right, rode Red Hail clothed in soft elkskin beautifully beaded, and after her the horses followed with their packs, and after them rode Brave Eagle clothed as when he rode away to war.
“Then at last a great cry went up from all the people, and the horses lifted up their heads and neighed, and there was great rejoicing. But Good Voice Hawk had fled.
“Now when the chiefs had called Brave Eagle and Red Hail into the great lodge and heard the story, they summoned theakichitas, who are the keepers of the law and have the power of thunder beings. And the head chief said to them, ‘Find Good Voice Hawk wherever he has fled, but do not bring him back.’
“Then there was feasting in the village and all the people gave gifts to those who had mourned, until they had more than plenty of all good things.
“And when he was still young, Brave Eagle became awichasha yatapikaand then a chieftain. And when the two were bent beneath the snows of many winters, Red Hail and Brave Eagle were still happy together, for all their daughters were like their mother and all their sons were brave.”