Page 29

The spirit-killer golden rock…

As Stands Strong trod out of their camp and into the blackness of the night, he scolded himself for aligning himself with this woman and her family.

áa, it was true: a man was duty-bound to help a woman in trouble, but he had gone so far as to extend his commitment to her by making her "one of his women."

He was now alarmed at himself for doing so.

Assuming Czanna to be similar to his almost-mother in moralities, he had gladly welcomed her into the fold of his life.

He could see now he had been mistaken to do so.

Ha'ayaa, it appeared she was the same as all other white people.

They came here without permission; they brought with them whiskey, the wicked spirit water, which drove his people crazy; they carried sicknesses into Indian Country which the medicine men of the tribes had never before experienced;

and these people stole from and murdered one another in their mad rush to find the golden rock.

And she has, this night, offered the spirit-killer rock to me.

Is it her intention to drive me into acting in a manner as crazy as the white man?

Through his Lakota father, Stands Strong had been taught to respect the medicine ways even though he wasn't a true medicine man.

Indeed, all his life he'd had familial ties to and experience with the traditional approaches to healing.

And, although his Lakota family was now gone, those traditions of the medicine men had been carried on by his almost-family's ties.

Indeed, his almost-father, Strikes Fast, was a great medicine man, and Strikes Fast, along with his friends Eagle Heart and Gray Falcon, could cure most of the ailments presented to them.

But, the crazy spirit within the white man's whiskey, as well as the madness brought on by the golden rock, eluded all three of them, their "cure" being to simply never indulge in them and their mind-altering ways, and to keep them far away from those who could not resist their temptation.

And yet, here was this white woman attempting to lure him into the white man's sickness by offering him the golden rock.

And why? To lead her and her family to their cousin in the Backbone-of-the-World Mountains? It was a journey he would gladly do for her simply because she asked it of him.

But, perhaps he should not blame himself for trusting her, since his mistake was a natural oversight.

After all, his almost-mother was white, as were his two aunties who had married into the Pikuni tribe.

Not only was his mother, as well as these white aunties, beautiful in both spirit and body, they had showered him with motherly love over these many years of living with the Pikuni people.

There was nothing, indeed, he would not do for these women; without hesitation, he would die for them.

Thinking back, within his memory was no incident of these women indulging in the madness of whiskey, although the white man stocked the dangerous brew within his forts.

Truth be told, these beautiful women upheld the Pikuni ideal of what a woman should be, and they blended so well into the life of the Pikuni, he often forgot they were white.

His error was this: upon first meeting and speaking with the woman Czanna, he had extended to her the same allegiance he upheld for his mother and his aunties.

He could see now this woman, Czanna, didn't deserve it.

Or did she? Was he certain she meant to lure him into losing all sense?

Ha'ayaa, in this he must be truthful, and the truth was he was not completely certain this was her intent.

Yet, she had offered the evil spirit rock to him as "pay" for a thing he would do simply because he wished to know her better.

But, could his assumption about her faults be in error? Should he, perhaps, ensure he knew all the particulars before he became even more infuriated? Instead, rather than spit angry words at her, he had left.

He sighed.

Because he had already vowed his aid to this woman, his sense of honor gave him no choice but to return to where she was and speak to her as calmly as he was able, perhaps discovering why—in her own mind—she had offered the evil rock to him.

Glancing up into the star-drenched sky overhead, he called upon what had once been his medicine helper, the white bear, asking her for her aid in calming his anger enough to keep his tongue and his mind straight.

But, truth be told, he would rather face a raging buffalo than talk to the white woman.

****

He did not find her where he had left her. Instead, he discovered Czanna had returned to her sleeping robes, there beside the wheel of the white man's wagon.

Perhaps this was good. In this way, their conversation would be private.

He trod right up to her and sat down in a position where he and she would be forced to face one another—the best pose in which to council together. As he sat down, he took note of the warmth and the softness of the buffalo robe upon which both he and she sat. Idly, he wondered where she had obtained the robe.

But, her head was down, her face in her hands, and she appeared to be so deeply steeped in her thoughts that she had not yet taken notice of him. He cleared his throat as a means of bringing her attention to him without startling her.

Immediately, she gazed up at him and gasped, perhaps because of the shock of seeing him. Maybe she, like many of the other white men Stands Strong had known, closed all her other senses when her eyes were shut. If this were so, she had probably not been aware of his silent approach.

Although the night was dark, it was not black enough to hide the paths of the many tears that were streaking downward over her lovely face, some of those tears so recent they were still wet. But, although his heart went out to her, he set his mind against the allure of her beauty. He had to do so; he had to be firm in his resolve against her until he learned more about her.

In a low voice, he uttered, "I have returned here with the hope of speaking to you with good words upon my tongue. Is this agreeable to you?"

She merely nodded.

"Soka'pii, good. If I ask it of you, will you tell me why you have an urgent need to make this journey into the Backbone-of-the-World Mountains?"

She nodded and said in a soft voice, "I will tell you what I can. But, first, may I please ask why you left? I don't understand. All I did was bid you to help us. Did I not offer you enough of the gold or silver coins as the price for your services? I could give you more if this be your upset."

Stands Strong calmed his urge to shoot back angry words in answer to her question, amazed and disconcerted at how she continued to tempt him into evildoing. At length, he said, "There is a madness the white man brings into my country, and the Indian, who must defend his family and his tribe, seeks to keep his distance from the white man's evildoing. This is why I left."

"Evildoing? Are you telling me you think I am evil because I have asked for your help?"

He inhaled deeply and sorted through his thoughts before uttering, "Not you, nor what you have asked of me. It is what you have offered me as the pay you would give me if I help you. This pay is evil."

"Pay? Evil?" She cried out the words before she burst into fresh tears, then she spread her hands again over her face as though she didn't wish him to see the effect his words had upon her.

Her actions caused Stands Strong's heart to open up a little to her, and he offered her an explanation, whispering, "Since my people have known the white man, he has brought us friendship and many beautiful goods we value. But, he has also brought with him a wicked thing, and we have stood horrified at the white man's attempt to exchange this evil for the quality of hides and furs he obtains from us."

"I do not understand. What did I offer you that you find evil?"

"I will tell you, though it is not my place to utter these words to a woman who is also a white person.

But, so as to understand you better, and you, me, I will say to you what many of my people speak of to one another about certain white traders.

What I tell you is true; the white man brings whiskey into this country and steals the Indian's mind and spirit by means of this brew, causing the Indian warrior to commit war on his friends, as well as his family.

A man whose mind has been stolen by the white man's brew cannot be long without it, and such a man has been known to kill his wife and his own children when his spirit and his mind have been taken by this whiskey."

With her lips shaking, she uttered softly, "I am sorry to hear about this, Mr. Stands Strong.

Believe me, I am sorry, indeed.

But, please, I have not offered you whiskey in exchange for acting as a scout for us."

"Your tongue speaks true.

This you have not done."

"Then, why are you angry with me?"

He paused as he tried to keep control over his mind and the urge to still utter bad words to her.

At last, he felt he could speak with only a little resentment, and he said,

"There are stories brought to us by Indians west of the Backbone-of-the-World Mountains, those who once lived close to the Everywhere-water.

A few of those Indians were able to escape from either death or enslavement brought to them by the white invaders.

They have told us stories of these trespassers to their land, who, when they first arrived, said they brought peace, yet who begot death to the Indian people or made slaves of those they did not kill.

The scatterings of those few who were able to get away have made their home with us or with a few of the tribes on the west side of the mountains.

And, from those few people we have learned of the terrible golden rock and how, because of desire for this rock, the invaders' spirits have been stolen.

This white aggressor acts like a man under a spell—one cast by a demon spirit.

And, if the captured Everywhere-water-people do not willingly work in the underground caves owned by their attackers, the white man either kills them with his deadly weapons or he enslaves them by forcing them to dig in these caves that he calls 'mines,' where the evil rock lives.

Because of this golden rock, whole tribes who once lived next to the Everywhere-water have been wiped away by this spiritless invader and his guns.

Real Indian men of those tribes fought these intruders.

But, because Indians had not the guns nor the means to fight back equally, they lost these battles. And, as they had known would happen, they were killed.

"Of course," Stands Strong continued, "we have seen the golden coins the traders carry and which they value, but we did not know of the demon's spell which has been cast upon the rock.

It is from the tribes who once lived close to the Everywhere-water that we have learned of this rock and its immoral power over a human being.

Those Everywhere-water people have told us to beware of the invaders who carry this spirit-killing and evil rock.

And, Miss Czanna, you offered this rock to me tonight."

Looking at her, he saw her eyes were opened wide, and she gasped before she said, "I am very, very sorry to hear these stories, Mr.

Stands Strong.

I have not known of these Indian people, nor have I had any knowledge of the white invaders of their homeland.

But, please, I must ask you, do you think I am like these trespassers you speak of who are trying to steal your spirit?"

Stands Strong hesitated to respond, since the truth might cause her more grief.

However, at last he answered, but with a question, and he asked, "What else can I think?"

No sooner had he uttered the words than she again broke into tears, hiding her face once more within the folds of her hands.

He waited patiently for her to regain her composure, and, as the night sank deeper and deeper into the shadows and still she wept, his heart softened for her plight and a thought took hold of him.

Could her reaction to his words, if it had been a true response, offer him proof of her innocent and genuine intentions? Indeed, could he have been wrong to decide her actions were meant to lure him into evildoing?

But, contrarily, couldn't she be using her tears to soften his heart while hers remained hard?

At last, she calmed herself enough to say, "Mr. Stands Strong, I don't know what to do. I…I don't understand this country or its people and their moralities."

As though she hadn't cried enough, she broke anew into tears, and this time in response to her, Stands Strong leaned forward, stretching out his arm to her and taking her hand into his own. Ha'ayaa, be her tears real or not, he could not sit in front of her and do nothing.

He said, "Maybe I have been wrong."

She placed her other hand over her face and hiccupped.

As softly as he could, he asked, "Will you tell me about what is in your heart? I fear I do not understand your wishes concerning me, and I do not know why you so urgently need my help."

It took much time for her to compose herself. However, he patiently waited until at last she murmured, "Where I come from, no one gives service to another without coin being exchanged. This is why I offered it to you."

Using the hem of her dress, she wiped the tears from her face and brought up her head as the dark brown of her eyes met his.

She sniffed a little before she continued, whispering, "In my country, service performed for another is never given without some pay being exchanged.

You see, in my homeland, nothing is free and available for general use.

Indeed, one must have coin to obtain shelter and to obtain food and clothing.

Sometimes food is given in exchange for service performed, but it is more common to offer another person the silver or gold coin.

Some men accumulate more of these silver and golden coins than others, and they live very well.

But, some men do not have the means to accumulate the pay they need to provide food and shelter for their families, and so they fight amongst themselves for what they must have.

Perhaps this explains why the white man wars so greatly with one another: so he might obtain the golden coin.

"You see," she went on to say, "in this country of yours, the gold and all else is free, and if a man can find what he needs, he can live well.

But, in my country, the gold and even the silver coins are not free, nor is anything else free, save the air and water.

I don't know if this be true, but it seems to me it has always been this way.

"But, please, Mr.

Stands Strong, I have only offered you the gold or silver coins because I need your help and I know of no other way to obtain your assistance other than by asking you to take what I have to give, which is coin.

Do you see? It is important that I give you something of worth for what I ask of you.

The truth is, I have nothing to offer you but coin."

For a moment, Stands Strong sat stunned into silence.

Could it be true? In the world where she came from, was nothing free for all to use? Did not the Creator make the world and his creation for all peoples to have and to use?

Quicker than the flash of an instant, he understood—not the complexity she spoke of—but rather, he recognized her innocence.

She had offered him what she had to give—something she felt was valuable.

áa, he had been in error to condemn her without speaking to her first.

But, was there any wonder he and she hadn't understood one another? His people were as different from hers as the mountains were to air.

At last, Stands Strong muttered under his breath, "Wáíai'taki tsaahtao'."

"I beg your pardon? I did not properly hear you."

Stands Strong shook his head as if to dispel the thought. In truth, he had no words to speak in response to the concepts she proffered, and so his mind had turned toward a quality she did have to give.

However, before they talked further, he would be certain he understood her correctly, and he asked, "Is it this way, then? Did you believe you were doing as well as you could by presenting me with the gold coin?"

She simply nodded.

Because her hand still remained within his own, he squeezed it before he said, "I see now I have been wrong about this and about you. I freely admit it to you, and I hope by telling you of my mistake, your concerns will be eased. Know this: I will help you with what you have asked simply because, as I once told you, you are now one of my women. Noohk, you owe me nothing, except perhaps your friendship."

"But, Mr. Stands Strong, I fear you already have my friendship. I have freely given it to you. Indeed, you might be my only friend in this country. Were it not so, I would never have been able to ask for your service, coin or not. Please forgive me for giving you the impression I did not value your friendship." Again, she sniffled. "I am sorry I angered you. Truly, I am. I…I didn't know what your people have suffered because of the greed of others."

"Greed?"

"Yes, have you no one in your society who selfishly believes he may steal or kill so as to obtain what he must have, yet who cannot obtain what he needs by honest means? Or perhaps you are aware of evil men, who, parasite-like, can only live off the backs of other men?"

"We do have such men," answered Stands Strong. "But, their counsel is never sought. A true man overcomes the urge to steal from or kill others in his tribe who might stand in the way of attaining glory. Only a boy in a man's body does this."

"Yes. But, I cannot possibly ask you to endure the hardships involved in helping us without my giving you something in return. I am well aware that by aiding us, you could lose your life, same as us. And, Mr. Stands Strong, I have nothing else to offer you in exchange for your help, except the coin. Indeed, if you will not take it, I know not what to do."

"Wáíai'taki tsaahtao'," he repeated.

"I am sorry, sir, but I do not understand your language."

"I know."

"Please, won't you translate it for me?"

What was wrong with him? Could he not control his tongue while he was in the presence of this beautiful woman? Once again, the words had slipped out of his mouth without first thinking the thought through.

He shrugged in response to her question, pretending his statement meant little to him. But, in truth, he would rather face an enemy warrior than translate what he had said.

"Please?" she asked again. And, when he didn't answer, she repeated, "Please?"

He was going to have to tell her. He would not lie to her nor would he refuse to answer, since only a coward would seek to avoid the truth. And, he was no coward.

Stands Strong took a deep breath, summoning up his stamina before saying, "Become my woman. Marry me. Then it is my duty to do as you ask."