Michael Blake: The Holy Road

"Are you killing these men?" Ten Bears asked.

"We kill as many as we can. It is not easy to ride against the far-shooting guns. A party from my wife's brother's band killed six in one raid but it turned out bad. The white men were infected with the spotted sickness and the warriors carried it back to the village. It killed many. My brother-in-law is dead from it. Our band has killed a few of these hair-mouthed hunters but every time we do they send soldiers out to chase us. . in our own country! There are two soldier forts, in the east, on the edge of our country. We learned before we left that they are making another one."

Ten Bears' brows pinched together. "Why are they doing this?"

"They want our land," Wolf Robe replied. "They're on it now, all along the Vermillion River off to the east. They make square houses of mud to live in."

"I have heard of these square houses," Ten Bears interjected. "It is said that these houses cannot be moved and that inside there is no air.”

"I have only seen them from afar. I have never touched one. These white people put blades in the ground and skin the earth. They drill holes and plant seeds and eat the green things that grow out of the holes. . "

One of the Cheyenne warriors said something to Wolf Robe.

"Trees are being felled everywhere they can be found," he went on. "They cut the trees into pieces and push the pieces into the ground and stretch wire between them. ."

"Singing wire? " Ten Bears asked.

"The wire doesn't sing. It sits there."

Another Cheyenne mumbled something to Wolf Robe and the headman made more pictures in the air.

"If we kill the earth skinners. . soldiers chase us around for that, too."

Still another warrior spoke up. Wolf Robe listened, nodding at what the warrior was saying. Then he turned to his Comanche listeners.

"Some of our people are trading robes for colored water that white men make. Everyone has a name for it. I call it crazy water."

"I know about that," Ten Bears put in. "It's the water that burns the throat and makes people wild."

"Yes. Don't let it into your camp. People can't stop drinking it. They get tired and fall down, or they get so crazy they can't see who they are. . they fight. ."

"Indian against Indian?"

"Indian against Indian. People get killed sometimes. One man I heard of gave his woman to a white man for pleasure just to get more of this water. People get sick when they drink it, yet they still want more when they get better. Don't let any of your people get hold of this water. It always brings trouble."

As the Comanches sat in stunned disbelief, several of Wolf Robe's warriors beseeched him to tell something more. Wolf Robe's head twisted back and forth, trying to catch everyone at once. Then his hand went up for silence and he signed again to Ten Bears.

"Have you heard of the holy road?"

Ten Bears glanced over his shoulder at the warriors who sat and stood transfixed behind him.

"No," Ten Bears finally replied. "What is this holy road?"

Wolf Robe considered the question a moment. Then he turned and nodded to a warrior sitting close by. Wolf Robe sat as the new man rose to speak.

The Comanches paid close attention to this warrior. He was tall, even for a Cheyenne, and particularly resplendent in heavily beaded moccasins and leggings. His bone-pipe breastplate extended to his waist and a heavy disc of hammered copper hung about his neck. Tied in his scalp-- was a huge claw taken from a humpbacked bear. His eyes were lidded, his lips thin and delicate, his nose long and straight. The most spectacular thing about him, however was the tight-fitting white soldier jacket with its brass buttons lining one side of its open front and golden bars of fabric sewn on its shoulders.

"I am Fast,” he signed. "I have smoked the pipe tonight. My words are true."

Outside, Smiles A Lot was not aware of the stiffness in his legs, nor was he bothered by the light rain that was falling. He was not even aware of Hunting For Something. As a boy he had sometimes spied on high-level councils but that was only because he had nothing better to do. But

what had been a lark in his early youth was suddenly something more. He was spellbound by the exchange taking place between the two tribes' best warriors.

The new speaker's quiet presence stood in sharp contrast to the sublime action of his arms and hands. Perhaps it was because the boy outside had never paid attention, or perhaps he was witnessing a true master, but whatever the reason, Smiles A Lot remained entranced by the exquisite perfection of Fast's every gesture as he spun out his story.

"White men with long looking-glasses came into the country last year at the first melting of the snow. The whites had said they were going to build a road on which a fire wagon of steel would pull boxes on wheels behind it. We didn't want to see a road like this coming through our country. My brother and I and a few other warriors overwhelmed one of these parties while they were in camp. We killed all of them and took the long looking-glass and tried to see what the white men were looking at, but it was worthless. We never saw anything.

"From then on, white soldiers were with the looking-glass people and we had a hard time driving them off. When the grass started out of the earth this year some Kaws told us that the road for the fire wagon was being built. They said there were many white men doing this and that the road was aimed at our hunting grounds.

"Council fires burned for many sleeps until it was decided that we should make war against this road. A great party of a hundred warriors set out to the east when the ponies were fat. We wanted to stop the road. Our hearts were strong. We were willing to fight the fire wagon.

"After five sleeps we found the fire-wagon road. There were many white men making it. ."

"How does this road look? " Ten Bears interrupted.

"Two ropes laid side by side. Metal ropes. The white men we saw were pounding these ropes into the earth. We decided to drive these whites off and circled behind them so we could come out of the sun when we attacked them in the morning. We did this and they scattered over the prairie. We took two scalps but some had the far-shooting guns and we fell back.

"We were going to attack once more when two scouts galloped in from the east. These scouts had seen something coming toward us on the metal rope road. It was not a fire wagon but some kind of wagon bed without sides. It had wheels and a stick with handles which two white men were pumping up and down like drinking birds. A third white man was riding on this thing.

"We saw it come over a little hill and rush down to where we were sitting our horses. The two pumping white men rolled onto the ground and ran off. Our horses were so frightened that they began to jump into the air. It was hard to hold them.

"The third man did not run away. He came down the hill, standing straight up on the funny wagon. He wore a black robe. Around his neck were two pieces of crossed silver. He pulled the silver over his head and waved it as he drew closer. He pulled a black thing from his robe, the thing white men call a 'book.' He held these things over his head, screaming words we did not know. The man was not pumping and the little wagon lost power. It stopped in front of us and the man stepped off.

"Many stout warriors did not want to look at the man. He had no meat. His skin was the color of wax. His nose was as thin as a needle and his eyes popped like a frog's. He waved his arms and yelled and paced back and forth. He pointed the cross at people. People were getting scared.

"Then he fell down in the grass. He began to roll on the earth. He talked in many strange voices and his eyes turned up into his head showing only the whites. Saliva poured from his mouth. All could see that some spirit was inside him and that he was deranged. The strongest warrior has no power against such things. We rode away, hardly stopping until we were home."