THE NIGHT OF THE CHEYENNE CALLED WHITE EAGLE

By Andamogirl

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ACT ONE

Part two

A week later, a few miles from the Cheyenne settlement

Indian Territory, Oklahoma

Meeting Artie beside Blackjack, Jim asked, "You wanted to see me Artie?"

Smiling like a kid with a new toy Artemus Gordon – wearing a very realistic mask of Lone Wolf's face – pulled out a bottle with a hand-pumped sprayer from the black stallion's saddle bag. "Héeh'e, I mean yes. Yes, I need your help, Jim." He placed the object at his feet and then he took all his clothes off, his bandage and his dressings too and, naked, he took his invention back. "Alright Jim, that sprayer – one of my latest inventions - contains an inoffensive chemical compound that will give my fair skin a dark tan, I call it a self-tanner. You can't remove it using water or rubbing it and it dries after a few minutes. I found that it would be easier to apply a faux dark tan that way than using a tinting cream, and the rendering will be more natural. And as I don't know how long I'm going to play Lone Wolf, my faux tan won't start to disappear for two months. I also placed a large patch of false skin on my tattoo in order to hide it."

Jim smiled. "Two months? I hope we will have completed this mission before that." His smile broadened as he noticed that his partner had shaved all his hair as Black Wolf did. "Okay, are you ready buddy? Now close your eyes." He chuckled. "Say goodbye to your white skin – for a while." Then he pulled on the trigger and, giggling, he sprayed his best friend with the self-tanner, everywhere.

Once Artie was tanned from head to the soles of his feet, he moved toward the bonfire and stayed there, waiting for his faux-suntan to dry. Then he began to dress using the clothes American Knife had brought with him and which belonged to Lone Wolf: he put on first the loin cloth held by a belt, then in order to ride, he put on leggings decorated with painted designs and colored pearls, after that he put on a fringed shirt decorated with painted designs and more colored pearls and, finally, his moccasins. Then he settled his dark, braided wig on top of his head. He had tied to it a hair drop adorned with glass beadwork, silver hair plates, and eagle feathers. "I placed a special adhesive on the inner surface of the mask and on the wig. It's very durable and will disintegrate on its own in a couple of months too. How do I look?" he asked.

Jim smiled. "Exactly like Lone Wolf ," he responded. "It's really impressive. You did a great job buddy. Your mask is just perfect."

Pleased Artie smiled broadly. "Thank you. I used a new material to do it; it looks just like real skin. I worked for several weeks to develop it and am very satisfied with the result. The mask is as thin as skin and once on my face you can't tell if it's a mask." He smiled. "I'm proud of it. It's my best mask so far."

Impressed Jim nodded. "But what about your voice?" He asked.

Still smiling, Artie waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, don't worry about that, Jim. When you were making a reconnaissance with a few warriors. I trained the whole morning with American Knife, testing new voices before finding the right one. I can imitate his voice perfectly now." He raised his left hand. "Lone Wolf is left handed, but I'm ambidextrous."

The Cheyenne medicine man joined the two agents beside the bonfire and froze on the spot, amazed. "Artemus, that's incredible! If I didn't know it's you standing here before me, I could swear I see Lone Wolf." He smiled and showed Artie the necklace he was holding. "The pendant is a bear tooth; it's a symbol of courage. Only the most courageous warriors wear it." He passed the necklace around Artemus neck. "This necklace is for you, Artemus, because you deserve it. You're a brave man."

Artie blushed with pleasure and pride underneath his dark tan, grinned and bowed. "Thank you very much", he said.

Jim smiled. "I agree, and it's appropriate to wear a bear claw necklace for a man called Strong Bear – when he's among his Indian friends."

Shaking his finger, Motšėškevé'ho'é.said, "For now he's Lone Wolf." He smiled. "Now let's see what reaction the warriors have. After that, we'll eat. Spotted Eagle has killed rabbits and Sitting Horse has gathered lots of berries."

Artie smiled. "Náháéána ! I'm hungry."

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Much later in the Cheyenne settlement

Ho'neohno'kaests / Lone Wolf. (Artemus Gordon) followed by Jim West and Motšėškevé'ho'é. / American Knife entered the settlement at night. The other warriors accompanying them dispersed right away, returning to their tepee and family.

The three men dismounted next to the Chief Mo'ȯhtaenahkohe's tepee.

The warriors guarding the place gathered around faux-Lone Wolf, patting his arms and shoulders very happy to see that he had managed to escape from the Pawnees and that he was alright.

Playing his role and happy to be back among his friends, Artemus smiled to them, talked to them briefly and then entered the tepee.

Jim and American Knife remained politely outside. It was a family reunion.

Mo'ȯhtaenahkohe / Black Bear was firstly very surprised to see his son (but not) and then he sighed in relief and grinned happily. "I knew that you would come back my son, I prayed to Ma'heo'o so he would bring you back to me, and the Wise One Above granted my request," he said in Cheyenne dialect.

Artemus-Lone Wolf knelt beside Black Bear on a pile of furs, beside the small fire set in the center of the floor, and imitating Ho'neohno'kaests's voice, he said in Cheyenne dialect, "I escaped from the Pawnees, father. They tried to capture me again but I managed it so they lost track of me. American Knife and the warriors found me on my way home and here I am, father."

The old Cheyenne touched the other man's face tenderly. "I'm dying my son, you arrived just in time. In two days, I'd have chosen White Horse to succeed to me because he the strongest warrior, but now that you're back, I'll be proud to make of you my successor. Welcome back, Lone Wolf."

Not-Lone-Wolf hid a smile. "Thank you." 'White Horse is not going to be happy to hear that', he thought. Then he lowered his eyes in pain. "I'm so sorry for you father… can American Knife do anything for you? He knows many remedies and he has healing powers…"

The old Chief shook his head. "No remedy can cure old age, Ho'neohno'kaests. I'm dying happy. I had a long good life and I will have a good death. My spirit will travel up the long fork of the Milky Way to Seana, the camp of the dead where I will join your mother and the other members of our family. I am proud of you, my son. You will make a good Chief; you're strong, courageous and wise. You will do the right things to keep our people in peace and prosperity."

Artie-Lone Wolf nodded. "I will father, I promise." He looked up at the entrance of the tepee, switched language and called, "American Knife, Mr. West, come in." The two men complied a couple of seconds later. Still in English he added, "Father, this is Mr. West, he came here once a few years ago. Little Willow tortured him… American Knife invited him to follow the power transfer between you and me. The U.S. Government wants to see that everything is alright here, peaceful, in our band."

Black Bear nodded. "You are welcome here, Mr. West, your help was important in clearing our band from those accusations of having killed people building the railroad," he said in perfect English. "I remember you and your partner, Mr. Gordon very well. Is Mr. Gordon accompanying you?"

Jim shook his head and lied. "No, Chief Black Bear. He was gravely wounded during our last mission, and he's bedridden in the Washington Military Hospital."

Mo'ȯhtaenahkohe nodded. "I'm sorry to hear that. I hope he will get better soon. The ceremony will begin the night after tomorrow when the first stars appear in the sky."

Suddenly the door made with a bison calf skin opened again and a warrior entered the tepee. He was tall, broad, and strong. He was wearing a loincloth and that's all. His face like his arms and legs were covered with scars earned in battles.

He had a long knife slid into his belt.

Faux-Ho'neohno'kaests moved toward the hulking warrior and looked up at him, knowing that it could be only one person: the former pretender to Black Wolf's position as Chief: Vohpo'hame. His face neutral, not impressed at all, he said in Cheyenne, "I'm back, White Horse."

Towering over Lone Wolf, White Horse moved closer, entering the other man's personal space in an intimidating manner. "I thought you were dead."

Faux-Ho'neohno'kaests shook his head and smiled, relaxed. "I'm not. I hope to see you at the ceremony of power transfer tomorrow night…"

Growling like a furious bear Vohpo'hame put his hand on his knife threateningly. "You're not worthy to be the new Chief of this band, Lone Wolf, because you're weak. I'll prove it to anyone here tomorrow, at sunset. I defy you to face me in the 'blood challenge'. His face hardened. "I will be victorious. Bring your knife." Then he turned around and left the tepee.

Lone Wolf (Artemus) frowned in concern. "What?"

American Knife put a hand on Lone Wolf's arm. "Let me lead you to your tepee my friend. You are tired and need some rest." He bowed his head in respect. "Good night, Black Bear." Then he added, "Come with me Mr. West, please."

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Inside Lone Wolf's tepee, later

Feeling drained, Artemus's legs turned to jelly and he slumped on a thick blanket. Then he rubbed his temples tiredly. "Nákȧhaneotse, I'm tired, yes," he said to the Medicine Man starting a fire and released a loud yawn. "Can you tell me what White Horse has in mind?"

The Cheyenne sighed, embarrassed. "White Horse wants to test your endurance to the pain. For that, he has defied you to the 'blood challenge'."

Cringing Artie said, "Blood challenge? I don't like the sound of that…"

The medicine man continued, "White Horse will make his blood flow… while inflicting himself self-injuries as a trial of physical endurance. You will have to cut yourself with your knife in return showing no pain – and he won't show any pain believe me, he will declare you unworthy to be the new Chief. Weak people can't make good leaders. My people are traditionalists and place courage above all other qualities. Black Bear and the council of elders will chose him as the future new chief if you show any pain – a sign of weakness. They won't have any choice. I'm sorry, Artemus, I didn't expect him to do that."

Hunching his shoulders Artie nodded, resigned. "I have only one thing to do then, if I want to be the new Chief – show no pain."

Sitting beside Artie Jim patted his best friend's shoulder encouragingly. "You'll make it buddy. You're very courageous, you can withstand any pain."

Artie sighed. "Thank you Jim for your confidence in me."

Motšėškevé'ho'é.nodded. "I have every confidence in you too, my friend," he said. "I'm going to prepare a salve for you, to treat your wounds."

Feeling a cold shiver running down his spine, Artemus cringed, his mouth dry with apprehension. "Oh boy; I hate that 'blood challenge' already."

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The next morning

It was almost noon when Jim West took a deep breath and began to stretch. He opened his eyes and blinked, disoriented for a few seconds as fuzzy memories re-arranged themselves in the proper order. He recognized Lone Wolf's tepee, painted with abstract, geometrical designs, all brightly colored.

He pulled himself into a sitting position and pushed the thick blankets covering him to one side before stretching and realized that he was alone.

Once he was outside. He glanced around him looking for his partner but the settlement seemed to be only populated by women and children. There were no men except old ones. He headed toward the Medicine Man's tepee and found him inside, sitting by the fire, preparing a smelly concoction in a terracotta bowl. "Good morning American Knife," Jim said.

The Cheyenne smiled. "Good morning, James. Did you sleep well?"

Concerned, Jim nodded and asked, "Yes. Where's Artie?"

American Knife added water to his preparation. "He's gone. He left at dawn to train with the short, stout bow with the other warriors," he replied and seeing the other man frown in concern he added, "Don't worry about him, James. Artemus is going to be fine." He poured liquid grease into the bowl he was holding. He turned the mixture with a wooden spoon. "Before leaving, Artemus told me the whole story with that eagle in the Comanche settlement and what happened with the Crows. They are incredible stories."

Jim smiled. "Yes, that's normal. Artie's incredible."

Motšėškevé'ho'é.finished his preparation. "There, I just finished my salve. Artemus will need it tonight; it helps wounds to heal rapidly and without any infection and any scar left." He frowned in concern. "I hope he won't show any pain… because White Horse must not become the new leader of our band. It would be absolutely catastrophic for us."

Jim nodded feeling confident in his partner willpower. "Don't worry; Artie knows what's at stake here, he won't show any pain, believe me," he said.

Tbc.