Chapter 19 #2
But he was weary of it as well. Like the Cheyenne, he was weary of the fight. War on the plains would eventually come to an end; how many more must die, he didn’t know. War in the future was going to be very different. Learning, rather than fighting, was going to be the key to winning.
He wanted to go home—and stay home. He wanted to find a way to get close to his wife, and he wanted to find a way to have a future.
He closed his eyes, trying to sleep.
He had barely done so when he sensed movement near him. There was a rustling…the slightest rustling in the woods. He opened his eyes without moving, looking around himself. He saw nothing, but he was still certain that someone was near.
He rolled suddenly, seeking the shelter of an outcropping of rocks just above the river’s edge. He drew his revolver, reminding himself that he had but six shots. How many men were stalking him?
The movement around him was no longer furtive.
He heard the cry of a bird that he knew damned well was no bird; then three young braves stepped out before him.
None of them was painted. It was hot, and they were stripped down to breechclouts, leggings, and moccasins.
He recognized Hawk’s cousin, Blade, before the Sioux warrior spoke to him.
“Cougar-in-the-Night, we’re glad to find you alone and not with the soldiers.”
He could kill the three, Sloan thought. But then, they knew it. There were other warriors nearby; if he were to kill these men, he might well end up dying very slowly. And he didn’t seek to kill. Any more, he thought, than these men wanted to kill him.
He rose from behind the rocks, sliding his gun back into his holster.
“Hello, Blade.”
Blade nodded. “Sloan,” he said quietly, “you must come with us. You cannot go back to the soldiers. You can tell them too much.”
“Actually, I have nothing at all to tell them,” Sloan said.
“We can tie you like a fallen deer,” Blade said quietly, “or you can ride with us. You may not return to the soldiers; if you try to do so, you will be shot down. It will grieve me tremendously to do so, but I will kill you.”
He was right that the first three Indians hadn’t been alone. Four more braves emerged quietly from the bushes. One of them was his own cousin, Tall Man.
“Naturally,” Sloan said, “I will come with you.”
Libbie came to see Sabrina again, extremely excited about the letters she had received from Autie.
“Autie! He is so brilliant, and so naughty! He admits to being reckless at the beginning of the campaign. He and Tom just teased their poor little brother Boston to death, making him think that he was being attacked by Indians just outside the column…Autie did make it all something of a lark, but General Terry, it seems, reprimanded him, and he tells me that he realized how very good the general has been to him, and he did, of course, change his ways!”
“Did he tell you anything more about the campaign?” Sabrina asked her.
“Oh, yes! General Crook’s men got into quite a fight along the Rosebud—and not terribly successfully, either.
The Indians made a stand against him. Terry was not so pleased, either; the army’s ‘pronged’ attack is slow in coming to any useful purpose.
Autie says that movement is painfully slow, of course.
My husband has chosen the right trails to take—no mean task considering the amount of weaponry and supplies in the expedition.
But despite that, General Terry chose Major Reno to command a scouting mission down the Rosebud.
Major Reno must have been north on the Rosebud right when General Crook was so desperately fighting, but it seems that Major Reno did not read the signs of Indian movement well.
He disobeyed orders, too, and when he was supposed to link up with Autie…
he didn’t. Both Autie and General Terry were fit to be tied, but at least now—” She broke off, flushing happily.
“General Terry knows now just what a good leader he has in Autie.”
“I’m sure that’s true,” Sabrina said. “Was there any word from Sloan?” she asked anxiously.
Libbie frowned. “Autie didn’t say. Curious. Sloan should have been with General Terry by now. But I’m sure he’s fine!” she added quickly.
Libbie seemed to have gotten over her sense of impending disaster.
Sabrina felt it instead. She had to find a way to reach Sloan. She had to!
The Indians, aware of the soldiers’ attempts to encircle them, spent long hours in debate.
They celebrated the Sun Dance.
Sloan was stripped of his army jacket and accoutrements; he was a prisoner, and he was told bluntly that he was a prisoner, but he was not treated badly. He was allowed to stay with his cousin, Tall Man, in his cousin’s tipi, and was treated kindly by Tall Man’s wife.
Earth Woman was among the people, and she came to see him.
She didn’t mind that he had a White wife, but she understood as well when he explained that he had taken her in the White way—which meant that he must be loyal to one woman.
Many of the braves were practicing celibacy because it was the time of the Sun Dance, when men purified themselves and prayed to Wanka Tanka, the Great Mystery, and received guidance.
He was with Tall Man when Sitting Bull made his sacrifice; sitting in stoic silence while fifty tiny pieces of flesh were cut out of each of his arms.
There were more Indians amassed in one place than Sloan had seen in his entire life.
They camped along the Little Bighorn, in a valley that stretched long in a narrow, grassy pain.
To the north, the river angled to the right.
Cottonwood trees grew in abundance along the banks.
To the east, the banks rose to a series of high, steep ridges, which rolled down again to a series of hills.
Jagged ravines were scattered across the plains to the west.
Despite the size of the encampment, each tribe still functioned separately, with the chiefs being summoned to the councils by a rider.
Sitting Bull was a Sioux; he did not take the position of the head chief, but he was the host here, and his prestige among the people had grown to heights it had never known before.
June progressed.
The days were explosively hot.
The “hostiles” were ready for war.
“Mrs. Trelawny!”
Sabrina was startled to find herself hailed by Marlene Howard. The woman walked at a leisurely pace across the parade grounds, a parasol keeping the sun from her face.
“I heard that you are harboring a fantasy about traveling out into Indian territory after your husband,” Marlene said pleasantly.
“Perhaps,” Sabrina told her warily. “Why? Is it a concern to you?”
“I might be able to help you,” Marlene said, smoothing back a strand of her beautiful hair. She smiled. “Some old friends of my father’s have just arrived. They’re going to be traveling up the Yellowstone by steamboat, and they’ll accompany you if you want to meet up with the troops.”
“Who are these friends?” Sabrina asked. Marlene was trouble; she might well be hoping to send Sabrina into danger. But Sabrina was growing desperate, and since she’d found no other help, she had little choice but to listen to Marlene.
“Sergeant Lally is a retired army man, solid as a rock and lovable as a stuffed doll. He’s traveling with some…
gentlemen traders. They’ve actually made quite a fortune trading with the Indians, though at times it’s quite difficult to tell.
Come with me and meet them.” She smiled. “Don’t you trust me?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Now, come, Mrs. Trelawny, not even I can control the wilderness or the Indians!”
Still suspicious of the woman, Sabrina followed Marlene to her home.
When Marlene opened the front door, Sabrina heard the gruff laughter of several men.
It seemed that they were in the midst of a tale about a not-so-virtuous Indian maiden, but Captain Jones, on seeing his sister and Sabrina, quickly sobered and stood. He didn’t look pleased.
“Marlene, I told you that this is a foolish idea—” Jones began.
“Now, hush!” Marlene scolded. “It’s a wonderfully romantic idea.”
Her brother still appeared tremendously disapproving.
There were four other men in the room, all of them truly rugged-looking individuals, and all somewhere between the ages of forty and fifty, Sabrina surmised.
“Now, Sabrina, this is Sergeant Edmund Lally, late of the Second Cavalry.”
“The best in the world!” Lally supplied, rising and doffing his hat.
The other men did likewise. They were dressed in an odd assortment of European clothing and Indian decorations, shirts of rawhide, fringed trousers, and beaded necklaces.
Their faces were heavily bearded, and they looked like a group of wild mountain men—which they probably were.
The trappers were John, Tom, and Ned, two brothers and a cousin, and they had been traveling the Black Hills long before any White men had actually explored the area.
Sabrina figured the men were trustworthy because they were friends of Captain Jones.
“Aren’t you afraid of the Sioux?” Sabrina asked them.
“We’ve become wealthy men because of the Sioux,” Ned told her seriously.
Tom nudged him with an elbow, looking at Sabrina gravely. “Of course, to escort a woman safely…well, ma’am, we don’t like to bring up such things, but…”
“I intend to pay you, of course. Please name your price.”
“Now, dear, don’t go throwing away Sloan’s army pay!” Marlene said sweetly.
“I have my own money,” Sabrina quietly told the men. “And I am more than willing to pay a fair price.”
Sergeant Lally was on his feet, smiling. “And we’ll give you a fair price, Mrs. Trelawny. Can you be ready to leave by tomorrow morning? And we like to leave at the very crack of dawn, you know.”
“I can be ready,” Sabrina assured him. She was anxious to leave at dawn. She didn’t want too many people to find out that she was leaving. She was afraid that someone might try to stop her.