Colter's Winter Read online

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  Snow Eye’s eye settled on a weathered-looking man, but one who had the look of pride about him. The man wore a plain robe but had penetrating eyes. Snow Eye knew immediately that he was the one he sought.

  “You’re Wicasa,” he said, gesturing toward the man, “chief here along the Missouri since most boys’ grandfather’s were boys and then again.”

  “And who might you be, proud Arikara warrior?” the chief asked.

  “I’m a warrior, that is right, and I’m looking for a man,” Snow Eye said in answer to the question. “Tell me wise chief of the mighty Mandan, have some of my kinsmen come this way?”

  The chief stared deeply into Snow Eye, stared with the gift that all along the river knew him for. He didn’t like what he saw, but then he’d known that would be the case.

  “Along your path lies darkness.”

  “So you can see into the mists of time,” Snow Eye replied without a hint of emotion in his voice.

  “I can see that your time will be short, should you persist on this path.”

  “And what path am I to take?”

  “The path south, back to a people that need you, need your strength and wisdom and determination.”

  “And let the spirit of my father, the spirit of my brother, just fade away to nothing like that, un-avenged and unappreciated?”

  “How do you know what the spirits of your family want,” the chief said, “have you asked them?”

  Snow Eye frowned at that. “I have no time for your games.”

  “You have time for nothing,” the chief said.

  “Did they go this way?”

  “Nearly a full moon ago now, skirting to the west of the village from across the river,” the chief said. “We knew they were there, and that they were sneaking past. It was clear they didn’t want trouble, so we gave them none…or so we thought. In the end, they did have a meeting with us, a meeting with one of our young braves, out on a vision quest.”

  Snow Eye grimaced, thinking of his own vision quest, the one that’d taken him from his parents when they’d needed him most.

  “What happened,” the one-eyed warrior said more than asked.

  “Dead,” the Mandan chief answered, “throat slit from ear to ear, or near enough.” The old Indian shook his head. “It’s likely they talked to him first, or more rightly, beat the talk out of him.” When Snow Eye’s brow furrowed in confusion the chief went on. “The boy’s face was beaten badly, nearly to a pulp. Why beat him before killing him…unless you wanted to hear what he had to say?”

  “And what did he have to say?” Snow Eye asked.

  The chief looked long and hard at Snow Eye, and several moments passed in silence.

  “You’ve brought trouble here,” the chief said at last.

  “I’ve given you no trouble.”

  “You’ve brought the spirits of evil with you.”

  Snow Eye tensed up, and so did the young Mandan braves standing behind him. “You speak ill of my father and brother?”

  The chief shook his head. “They’re on this earth no more, in flesh or in spirit. Your current way is not theirs, and they can have no part in it.” The chief shook his head, with a finality and sadness that made him feel his years. “No, young Arikara warrior, the spirits that travel with you are the spirits of darkness, and they point you out for all who are walking in the light to see…and for those travelling in darkness as well.”

  “Was that young boy travelling with the spirits of darkness as well?”

  “There’s much darkness along the river these days, and there will be plenty more before it’s all said and done. The whites are coming, and that’s likely what the band of five Arikara warriors that came before you wanted to know from the boy – not so much who had passed by here, but when.”

  There was a long silence in the tent as the words hung in the air. Neither the chief nor Snow Eye said anything, just stared at one another. The Arikara warrior had pressed northward from his village the very night he’d been attacked. That had been several nights ago now, and he didn’t know if he’d ever go back there, ever could go back there. He wasn’t sure he cared, and that sent a chill down him. Perhaps the Mandan chief was right, and perhaps he wouldn’t be coming back if he pressed onward with this course. But press on he would.

  Finally Snow Eye nodded and broke the silence. “Nearly a full moon ago now,” he said, echoing the chief’s earlier words. “That’s all I needed to know.”

  The chief nodded, and within moments Snow Eye was gone from the tent. Within minutes he was moving further north, up the river, after his prey.

  26 – Following Fast

  Shappa stopped, then put up his arm. The other Arikara warriors behind him came to an immediate halt.

  They were on a bluff, quite a ways north of the river, and now a village had come into view. A’anninen, by the look of it, Shappa thought as he stared down at the cook fires coming up through the tepee holes. There were about two dozen of the tents, a small tribe, but one larger still than the five of men in their small band. And they were out of their territory too, way out.

  They’d moved past the Mandans at night, more than ten days ago now. It’d been easy, but Shappa still felt that they’d ventured too close. He knew of the chief there, and he was wary of his supernatural powers. Shappa would never go so far as to call them gifts. He didn’t call them anything, didn’t want to think upon them at all…not after what they’d done. He tried to put that from his mind too, the look on the young brave’s face, the muffled cries as Honon and Lapu had held him down. Shappa always did the deed, and that Mandan boy’s blood had been redder than most he’d seen.

  After that it had been onward, north until the lakes and then westward, through the last of the badlands and into the more lush greenery that characterized the river tribes’ land. It was a nice place, but one fought over incessantly. Just over the past few generations, half a dozen tribes had come in and another half dozen had been pushed out. It was the pattern now that the whites were nipping at their heels, driving tribes they’d never heard of ever more into their territory. Already many couldn’t believe the tales elders told of a more peaceful and abundant time.

  The Arikara warred with all those tribes, or at least had. It really depended on the time of year, the locations, and the resources. Most tribal wars started over resources, usually a lack which created starvation conditions. It was a lot better to die in battle than on the ground, too weak to move. It was a way of life, tribal warfare, and Shappa knew it would go on, should go on, but perhaps couldn’t. Already the whites were coming more and more, and Shappa couldn’t help but think they should combine their might, put away old enmities, and protect what they still had left. Didn’t the encroaching eastern tribes point to what lay ahead? Shappa let out a sigh. All in good time, he thought, all in good time. Once the whites that had killed his son were found, Shappa could go back and begin the process of creating that grand alliance. The whites would quake at his power, his might, his–

  “Shappa,” a voice came up from behind, and the chief turned to see his closest companion, the medicine man Anoki.

  “A’anninen,’ Anoki said, pointing downward. “We’ll go around – no point in wasting time with the big bellies.”

  He said that last loud enough for the other braves to hear, and the young men had a good laugh. Shappa, however, only frowned. It was clear to him that there could never be a grand alliance of the tribes, that it was only ever a dream. But that didn’t mean the whites couldn’t die. Shappa smiled at that, and pushed his men onward, through the night.

  27 – Arguments

  Colter and Forest stood outside the A’anninen chief’s tent, arguing.

  “I told you,” Colter said for what seemed the tenth time, “it’s too much.”

  “We’re not talking about one night here, John, we’re talking about a few weeks, a month even!”

  Colter stared at the fur trapper, crossed his arms, and frowned. “Fo
rest, if we even wanted to get that many furs, we’d have to head back overland to the cave and get them from the cache we have in the canoe.”

  “Totally worth it, you ask me,” Forest said, then reached over and slapped Colter on the back. “C’mon – live a little!”

  “I’d love to – just not at 100 pounds of fur!”

  “The chief won’t go in if we don’t go the full amount – there’s no splitting or halves on this!”

  Colter sighed and turned around. He never knew a man to be so sex-deprived, but Forest was and it was driving him crazy! The two men had fully expected to trade with the Indians, and that’s why they’d taken thirty pounds of fur with them, tucked in their packs, as well as a Northwest Trade Gun. It’d made for a longer and more arduous journey overland, but Colter had expected it to be enough, more than enough. Now the A’anninen chief was asking for an unheard of amount, and Colter knew in his heart of hearts that if it wasn’t for the earlier zeal shown by Forest, the price would be a quarter of that, even less! The whole situation had him shaking his head, and at the same time he was looking nervously to the sky. Night was fast approaching, and they were quickly running out of options. The mountain man doubted that the chief would allow them to sleep in one of the warm tents, not while he was waiting on a deal that would enrich him and his people for months to come. Colter knew the man would drive a hard bargain, but there was no way in hell he was parting with 100 pounds of hard-caught furs for a few minutes of rolling in the hay with some Indian maidens. Forest was, however, and that was the problem.

  “C’mon, John,” the trapper persisted, tapping at the mountain man’s back, “we’re already here, it’s getting late…let’s just make a deal, huh?”

  The hell with that, Colter thought, and started walking.

  “Hey,” Forest yelled after him, “where are you going!”

  “Back to camp – if we start walking now we’ll make it before morning.”

  There was a shocked silence to that, and then after a few moments an ‘aw, hell’ and the sound of footsteps running to catch up.

  28 – On the Trail

  The moon was bright and illuminated near the whole of the Mandan Villages. Its light reflected off the Missouri, clearly showing the tides and eddies that the river held. No travelers trawled its waters this night, however, but they did tread its banks.

  They were a small band of Arikara, heading upriver from their village below. They had no grief with the Mandans, not at this time at least, and made their passage plain. It wasn’t long before a sentry party spotted them, and after asking their business, ushered them toward the chief’s tent.

  The three leading men headed inside and were met by Wicasa, the chief of the Mandan. He sat tall and proud, with weathered skin but eyes that penetrated and saw all. He wore a plain robe, for it was nighttime and very late.

  “You’re looking for him, aren’t you?” the chief asked after the men had introduced themselves. Their eyes took on a quizzical look, one that told him he’d been right. He shook his head. “You won’t find him, nor am I sure you’d want to.”

  “You speak of Snow Eye,” the leading Arikara said.

  The chief looked to him, and nodded. “Aye, if that’s what you want to call him. He didn’t give me a name, but that’s an apt one for a man with one eye blind.”

  “He killed several of our braves,” the leader said.

  The Mandan chief nodded. “I expected as much.”

  From his tone it was clear that he wasn’t much bothered by this. The leader of the Arikara didn’t like that.

  “He killed several of our men is likely to kill more. You’d let him go? Have you no pride?”

  “Plenty…too much I’m told by my wives,” the chief replied, and gained some small satisfaction when one of the Arikara leaders snickered a bit. The ill look the man received from his superior gave the Mandan chief the moment he needed to collect himself, and he laid out his case before the Arikara leader could get another word in.

  “He walks with the spirits of vengeance, that one, and he will find what he seeks. Whether the outcome will be as he desires, it matters not – his path is set and there will be blood.”

  The Arikara from below the river had never been friends to the Mandan, and they fought constantly, interrupted only by brief periods of trade to warm up for the next round of fighting. But all the Arikara leaders knew of the spiritual powers of the Mandan chief, and how they’d allowed him to live for much longer than a typical man could. Some claimed he’d seen more than 150 winters already, while others said it was far more. None disputed that he had a connection of some sort to the otherworldly, and could use that connection to see. It was that connection the Arikara leader was hoping to exploit at just that moment.

  “There’s a group that he’s following…what of them?”

  The Mandan chief shook his head. “When I look at them, I see only blackness.”

  “Did they come through here?”

  “They did…but they won’t be coming back.”

  The Arikara leader frowned, but said nothing. The note of finality in the chief’s voice was all he needed to hear. He nodded his head in thanks, then together with the other two gave a bow. They left the tent and they and their men continued on their journey, south this time, back toward their village.

  29 – Rushing At Night

  Colter stepped gingerly over the big rock, hoping the large drift of snow ahead of him wasn’t going to send him up to his waste. He put the foot down, and gave a silent sigh when it just went up to his knee.

  “How much further?” Forest asked behind him. It was growing later and later, and already Colter was regretting his decision to set out from the Indian village so late in the night.

  Colter looked around. They were just in the tree line on the edge of a forest, one that was coming to an end before them. Ahead of them was a vast plain, one they’d been walking across all day on their trek from the cave and now back to it. The moon was nearly full, making it easy to see, especially with white blanketing everything, reflecting that light back up into the sky. The night was clear…but also ominous. The sky looked larger than ever, and Colter had a bad feeling about something he couldn’t quite put his thumb on.

  “Another mile and we’ll be there,” Colter said, “so long as that moon doesn’t go behind any clouds and–”

  Who!

  An owl rushed out from the trees, a good fifty yards from them, and deep within the forest.

  “Sshh!” Colter whistled softly, and held up his hand for Forest not to make a sound. After a moment he motioned for the both of them to get down, and they did so.

  The mountain man glanced over at Forest and saw that he was scared. Colter was too, though he’d not admit it to anyone. Owls just didn’t come flying out of the forest like that, not unless they’d been spooked. Colter kept his hand up for silence, and narrowed his eyes, peering ahead into the darkness of the forest, the moonbeams penetrating it hardly at all.

  Then he saw it, a figure coming, walking toward their general area. It was an Indian, an Arikara by the look of it. A moment later Colter saw another figure coming up behind him, another Arikara. He looked back at Forest.

  “What will we do?” the trapper said, his voice quavering with fear.

  “Get up real slow and get out on the plain,” Colter said.

  “But…but…I thought you said it wasn’t safe!”

  “It’s not safe here,” Colter whispered, then got up into a crouching position, backed up a few paces, turned around and stood up and started moving. Forest was fast on his heels.

  Within moments the two men were twenty feet away, the snow crunching under their boots.

  “C’mon!” Colter said, then started to run, hoping they might get to the other side of the vast plain before the Indians got within arrow range.

  They ran for all they were worth.

  30 – A Sighting

  Lapu pointed ahead eagerly, through the trees and toward the st
retch of footprints he saw in the snow. He rushed forward, startling an owl from its perch. The bird gave out a loud ‘who’ while behind the brave the Arikara medicine man, Anoki, hurried to catch up.

  It’d been Honon that had spotted the tracks earlier in the day, footsteps leading toward the A’anninen village. They’d come from further south, and after alerting Shappa the chief had split the five-member band into two groups. Shappa, Honon, and Tadi had went south, looking for what the tracks were leading to, or perhaps where they’d come from. Tadi and Anoki had been tasked with heading north, toward the A’anninen. There was a good chance that a few braves on patrol or old women out collecting roots and berries had made the footprints in the snow, but with two trappers in the area, the Arikara chief wasn’t going to take that chance. The result was that the brave and medicine man had spent the better part of the day in a copse of trees on the edge of the vast plain, without fire, cold and waiting. Now Lapu claimed he’d seen something, and the waiting was at its end.

  Anoki watched as ahead of him the young brave reached the tree line and slowed down to a walk. He continued on, moving a few dozen yards out, and then came to a stop. He stood for several moments, as if looking, then his arm shot out and he eagerly pointed at something. He looked back over his shoulder to Anoki and began waving with his other arm and the medicine man saw the brave mouth what could only be one word: hurry!

  Anoki ignored the tired ache in his bones and started forward as fast as he could. He began to mouth thanks to the Gods, chants to the spirits, and prayers that help would be given to them. The medicine man reached the tree line and stopped. His eyes went wide – two men running across the field! A smile came to his face and he was about to cry out in joy when a bright light darted across the sky.