An Indian tale(part1)

The dancing flames of red and orange illuminated the old man's face,
highlighting the lines that portrayed his great age. He wore the
markings of a warrior and the headdress of a chief, his company, two
boys of the age of ten.
Outside the Tepee, snow fell continuously and covered the ground like a
perfect white blanket. The Buffalo hide of the Tepee cover sagged under
the weight of ice and snow.
"Tell us, Sparrow Hawk, of the time you escaped the white men," begged
the older of the two boys.
Sparrow Hawk made a noise, which could only be interpreted as a laugh.
Taking his long pipe out of his mouth he puffed out a cloud of smoke.
Nearly ninety-two and quite blind he still smoked his long decorated
pipe.
"For nearly eighty years young boys have asked for the same story," he
told them, quite amused. His voice was soft and croaky with old
age.
"But, Sparrow Hawk, it is a story about young boys and how they
defeated the White men," replied the younger.
"Okay Jaybird, but get comfy, it is a long tale."
There was a moment when only the spitting of the fire could be heard
above the falling snow. The two boys watched excitedly as Sparrow Hawk
took the pipe from his mouth and laid it by the fireside. When he
looked up his eyes were dancing with life and excitement.
"It was in the spring of the early cherry blossom that they came in big
boats from across the great ocean. Some tribes believed they were sent
by the gods to punish us, but not the Sioux. When others moved inland
we stayed.
They were devils and bad spirits from distant lands, with eyes of fox
and skin the colour of milk. They chopped down our forests and took our
lands, driving us inland with their weapons of fire.
It was on the Great Plain, at our summer migration camp where my story
starts, many years after they arrived on our shores.
I heard the thundering of a thousand feet as the buffalo herd rounded
the hill, swooping down the valley in a swirling black cloud of a
thunder storm. Deep in the midst rode Black Fox, my older brother.
Sitting tall on his horse, with his long black hair flowing behind him,
he let out his battle cry. It was answered as it echoed off every hill
in the valley.
I can't quite describe what happened next. I was sitting on a low
plateau watching, when I heard shots behind me. I turned and searched
the landscape of forest and river for any sign of white man but there
was none. Just a stillness that I found so creepy that it made me
shudder.
Lightning Arrow had heard the shots too, for when I turned she was
bucking with such fright that Black Fox had trouble staying on her. A
second or so later, I saw her charge down the hill, still consumed in
the black cloud, but with no rider on her.
I let out a cry and ran down the hill. The wind pulled my hair across
my face, blinding me. Under foot the ground vibrated making it hard for
me to run. The cloud passed and I stood there, tears welling in my
eyes, smudging the blue and red streaks of my makeup for a body
remained; A bleeding mass of skin, tattoo and hair, motionless in the
long grass.
I approached him slowly, quite scared at what I would find. He was not
dead. Despite his great injuries he still breathed and when I bent over
him, his eyes opened and met mine.
For a while I just stood there looking at him, not knowing what to do.
The events had passed so quickly that my mind was still adjusting to
what had happened. Then I took his arms in my hands and started towing
him through the grass. I don't know where, the camp was miles away, but
somewhere out of the open. The shots had frightened me and despite the
silence, I feared the White Men might be somewhere near.
Black Fox was heavier then I had anticipated. It wasn't long before I
was breathing heavily and exhausted. I had just enough energy to drag
him into the cover of the trees before I collapsed on the ground.
Silence filled the forest. The trees were so still and the animals so
quiet that it seemed like the whole forest was dead.
A moment later it was broken by a cacophony of sound; like a million
fireworks going off at the same time; for all around me firing could be
heard. Then it stopped, like bell waiting to be struck again, still
vibrating.
By now I was standing, my bow ready, frantic with worry and with the
sickening feeling that I was surrounded. I glanced behind me and saw
that Black Fox had closed his eyes in pain, he would not be able to run
or hide.
Through the trees I heard the approaching sound of big boots and
strange voices and knew White men were near. Now was the time to run
and escape, but I couldn't. I couldn't leave Black Fox behind.
Instead I waited, trying to predict which tree they would appear from.
I was right in being surrounded, a moment later men appeared on either
side of me, fair with bright eyes, dead animals slung over there
shoulders and the big long weapons in there hands.
As soon as they saw me, they stopped and laughed. In their eyes I was
pitiful thing, playing with a toy weapon. A man taller then the rest
barked and order and the laughing sect. I was then approached by a man
of considerable weight that wacked me so hard with his stick, that I
fell to the floor. I screamed with pain and anguish but I was only
kicked and shouted at.
He then tied my wrists together. Still in a state of shock from the
blow in my stomach, I did not try and fight back. He yanked me into
life, with the end of the rope tied to my wrists, obviously wanting me
to get up.
Reluctantly I stood, glancing behind me at Black Fox who lay on the
floor, playing dead. One of the men kicked him but he did not move.
They shrugged at each other, exchange a few words and left him.
I was blindfolded and then pulled by the wrists. Stumbling forward I
followed, tripping over something that lay on the ground so I landed in
the mud. I heard angry words from above me and then I was lifted,
probably by the large man for he held me as if I did not weigh a
feather.
At first I struggled, hoping for an insane moment that I could brake
free of his grasp but he just held me more tightly. So tightly that it
felt like all my bones would snap and brake.
For a long time we continued to travel through the forest. I knew this
as I was constantly being knocked by over hanging branches. Through out
the journey the white men continued to talk in their strange language.
I listened closely to their words, trying to understand what they meant
but it was like nothing I had ever heard.
Suddenly I felt the sun warm my back and knew we had left the forest
and were out in the open again. A moment later I was aware of the
sounds and smells of animals, many people talking, smoke and the smell
of cooking and knew we had entered the White Men's settlement.
I was thrown to the floor and my blindfold was removed. At first
everything seemed so bright that I could not see, then my eyes adjusted
and I was able to take in the village. It had the impression of being a
cramped place, as a dominating wall of tall logs, surrounded the
settlement. The White Men lived in peculiar wooden rectangular
buildings and kept animals that wondered freely.
I did not have long to take in these new surroundings as the large man
yanked the rope. I had to follow him through the village to a small hut
with a veranda. On it sat an old women rocking continuously on some
kind of stool whilst dawning a long stripy sock. She took one look at
me, said something to the man and I was thrown into the hut."

A sudden silence filled the Teepee. Outside the snow had stopped and
was beginning to melt. At the entrance way, only charcoal and cinders
remained of the roaring fire.
A dribble of melted ice ran down of the inside of the Teepee, which
Sparrow Hawk caught with his hand.
"So what happens next?" The older boy asked, transfixed by the tale.
"Did you escape the White Men and find Black Fox?"
Sparrow Hawk did not answer straight away. Instead he let the dew drop
run along his old hands, watching it with sad, old eyes and wore an
expression that matched.
"Not so fast Speckled Bird," he told the older boy. "This is where my
tale takes a different path. This is where I meet White Deer.
I lay in a batted hip on the floor of the hut. Pain seemed to fill me
and seep from every bare patch of my body. My clothes and hair were
ragged and I was covered with dried mud.
It was in this solitude that I was haunted by the truth of my situation
and what it meant. Before I had hid the truth from myself, not wanting
to know it and confess to myself that it was really happening. The
tears that had been welling up inside me all day suddenly burst through
the fragile barrier that had held them.
Through my misery I saw the door open and a girl enter. Her hair was
golden and her skin, as white as all the others, but as she walked past
me I caught a glimpse of a tattoo on her cheek and knew at once she had
been raised by the Indians.
With curiosity I watched her through the gloom as she fed the fire and
then heat some water. She worked steadily but with no haste, when she
had finished she sat on the floor and looked across at me for the first
time.
"I am White Deer," she told me, speaking easily and with confidence.
"You must the boy they kidnapped in the forest."
"Yes," I replied, quite taken aback. "I am Sparrow Hawk."
She nodded solemnly "Grandmother has told me about the state of you, my
jobs is to tidy you up a bit and teach you a few manners." She did not
say this spitefully, just in a mater of fact sought of way. "When you
are ready you shall be given to Colonel Custer, he is looking for an
errand boy."
"An errand boy!" I gasped, me mouth quivering, "for Colonel
Custer!"
"I am sorry," she replied, seeing the distress she had caused. After a
moment of silence she looked at me and continued. "I know how you must
be feeling right now and I shall try and help you. I would like to be
your friend, if you would like that?"
"I would like to get out of here," I tell. "As a friend can you help me
do that?"
She paused, looking down at her hands so as to avoid my eyes.
"Please," I beg.
"I don't know," she replied, sighing deeply. "It would be very
difficult and I will be punished if we succeed."
"Forget it," I answer. I turned my back on her and walked to the side
of the room.

It was not long before I learned my place in the settlement. As the
lowest of lowest I was expected to wake up as the sun mounted the sky,
to chop wood for the fire, which I later made, so White Deer could make
the breakfast. This was followed by a morning of chores around the hut,
which I shared with White Deer and her Grandparents. I say shared
although I slept with the donkey and only eat the left overs from each
meal.
The afternoon was spent running errands for the Colonel. He was the
tall man, the leader of the hunting party that had captured me. As well
as being very strict he hated the Indians and it seemed that I was to
blame for everything they did. I was whipped for the slightest thing I
did wrong and punished even more severely when the Indian attacked.
Often I returned to the hut too sore to move.
White Deer was true to her word about being a friend. She taught me the
words I needed to know to understand what the Colonel wanted. And when
I returned in the evenings covered with whip burns, she smeared a
poultice on my back, that relieved the pain. In the evenings, we would
talk about the Indians and she would tell me stories of life in the
Mohawk tribe. She had spent five years of her life with them, when she
got separated from her parents in a jungle. It was her grandparents who
found her as her parents had died the very day she got lost, in a
shooting accident.
On the first day I met White Deer, she told me it would be very
difficult to escape. On the third day in the settlement, I walked
around the village and found she was right. As well as being surrounded
by a tall log wall, there were watch towers and on the north and south
side of the settlement, guarded gates. The whole male population of the
village, were military men of Colonel Custer's army, there would be no
shortage of men to guard the settlement at night and to stop me from
escaping.

One day, on a fine summers morning, White Deer and I were sitting on
the veranda washing clothes, when a sudden melee of trumpets and horns
could be heard, entering through the gates. A few minutes later, a
procession of men in uniform on shining horses paraded down the high
street. The residents of the town emerged from their houses to cheer
and clap as the soldiers marched past.
"Who are they?" I asked when the street was quiet again.
"The 7th Cavalry," White Deer replied, looking up from the washing
thoughtfully. "They have arrived from Boston on Colonel Custer's
orders."
I gave a deep sigh, for a knew the destruction and havoc these
reinforcements would cause the Sioux and other tribes. Colonel Custer
would plan a surprise attack or a battle on the plains. There were so
many White men now, the Sioux had no chance in winning and might be
wiped out or driven from their land.
Inside me I felt the most unbelievable pain and yearning to be back
with my own people. I also felt guilty that I knew the Colonel's plans
and there was no way of passing on this information, which might be
vital in the survival of the Sioux.
That night the Colonel organized a party of celebration for the arrival
of the cavalry. Long tables were laid out in the village square and the
cellars and ladders of every house hold were emptied to provide the
food for the feast. Big barrels of wine and beer were rolled through
the streets and the hunting party roamed the forest for stag and
pheasant.
Of course I did not attend the party that night. White Deer's
grandfather locked the door of the hut and I was left to spend the
evening with the donkey.
The donkey slept in a small box shaped construction on the side of the
house. It was built hurriedly, resulting to gaps in the wood work where
the fall moon shone through. Straw and hay covered the floor which the
donkey liked to rearrange with it's mussel.
For a while I lay on the straw, listening to the sound of the party
outside. Through the gaps in the wood, I studied the starry sky and
thought of the times I had slept out in the open. Once again I felt
lonely and lost in the world.
I must have fallen asleep for a woke to the sound of tapping. It gave
me such a surprise that I sat up and banged my head on the ceiling. The
tapping came from the door which I opened quickly, hearing the urgency
in the knocker's knock. As quick as lightning, I saw Black Fox dart
through the door in a crouching possession for he was too big to be in
the hut really.
"Black Fox," I gasped, peering through the darkness at him.
"Shhh!" he replied, "The White men may hear us." I saw his face crease
into in a smile and we embraced. When I drew apart from him I felt
tears of joy trickle down my cheeks.
"How did you get here," I asked in a whisper. "The whole camp is full
of soldiers and the walls are guarded constantly."
"I have dug a tunnel under the wall," he replied. "But we better escape
soon. When the watch changes we might find the soldiers aren't quite as
drunk."
I laughed at this and then followed Black Fox out of the donkey's box.
We were creeping in the ghostly shadows of the silent houses when I
heard my name being called from behind me. It was White Deer.
I turned around and saw her standing at the end of the ally, her white
skin and golden hair glowing in moon light. Black Fox turned as well
but seeing she was not an Indian, tugged at my arm, wanting me to
follow him.
"Let's go," he whispered, "before she sees you."
I did not move for I could not leave her. She was my friend. What had
she said when I first arrived, "I will be punished if you succeed in
escaping." I could not let her get punished.
I felt Black Fox tug at my arm again. "You can not stay here," he told
me.
He was right, I could not stay here all my life, I could not live a
life time in a world not my own. Being treated as a slave with no
respect however hard I worked. White Deer was the only thing that had
kept me sane and I suddenly realized how much I cared for her.
She had seen us now and started running towards me. "Are you escaping?"
she asked me, "Are you leaving me?" Her voice was the saddest and most
melancholy think I had ever heard. I could not reply to her and looked
down at my feet, for I could not face those eyes. Some how I managed to
nod.
A deafening silence followed this in which no one could thing of
anything to say. I was torn between two life styles and both White Deer
and Black Fox knew that. Neither said anything for they wanted me to
decide who I choose.
I never came to the conclusion for White Deer decided for me.
"You go," she said, "but I want to come too."
Black Fox looked at her strangely so she turned her left cheek towards
him and continued.
"I want to be free again, like a an eagle that can soar over the world
choosing where it wants to go in life. Here I live like the donkey,
confide within these walls with no where to go, no where I can be
free."
Black Fox seemed to understand this for he nodded.
"Two Indians and the girl Mary!" A voice shouted from behind us. "Don't
let them escape!"