CHAPTER 21
"Kiowa killed Chief Black Bear?" Two Moons questions in complete disbelief.
The warriors turn their focus away from Paw, the calm muscular warrior, to the young brave, whose muscles are just beginning to bud.
Kiowa feels the eyes of his people shift from his uncle to himself. Their silence and their gaping jaws make him feel awkward, like he's done something terribly wrong. He isn't sure what to do, so he lifts the feathered headdress and says one word. "Today!"
The tribe erupts in explosive cheers. They howl, dance, and wave their hands wildly.
Kiowa spots Kida pushing through the crowd. He smiles as she throws herself at his feet.
"You are a great warrior!" She reaches for him as though touching him might let her break a piece of his greatness off for herself.
Memories flash in her mind, from the boy who could not kill a rabbit to the man who has avenged his father and killed a great chief. She looks up at him. Her doting eyes are washed of doubt and filled with gushing admiration. She raises her hands and releases a victory cry. Soon all of the girls join in.
Kiowa blushes as his brothers Two Moons and Weasel Tail lift him on their shoulders and release victory cries so fierce, they terrify the youngest children, who scamper off after their parents like rabbits.
An explosion of praise thunders through the camp. Kiowa raises Black Bear's war bonnet high and searches for his mother. When he sees her, he tosses her the trophy. She slowly kneels down and says, "Own, p'ayle doe," meaning, "Today, my love."
While the warriors carry him over to the fire and widen its warmth with logs, a few members of the tribe mount horses and speed away for the fallen buffalo.
"Listen," Paw says, hushing the tribe.
"Listen to how Lone Wolf became our greatest warrior." As Paw begins the story, the tribe circles around him. Orange firelight illuminates their proud faces. Two Moons beats on his drum. The fading sun sets the perfect stage, dimming the green pines to pointy shadows and spreading fog like a blanket over all the earth.
Kiowa listens to Paw recount the story. His uncle speaks of how he bravely stood alone and faced down his father's killer. When he assumes Kiowa's brave stance, the Dog Warriors gasp, while the ladies show their admiration through long twinkling gazes. The girls closest to him pat him on the back. All the girls tilt their heads and flutter their eyes and gush over him.
Kiowa is grateful that his uncle left out the scolding Paw gave him. He's also grateful he didn't tell the tribe about the golden lance. For though the tribe had possessions of their own, it wasn't uncommon for someone to "borrow" precious items for lengthy periods of time without returning them. It could be a lifetime before Kiowa got his turn with the lance, and since it was what his father died for, he felt especially close to it.
When Paw finishes the story, the women wipe tears from their eyes and look at their sons with high ambitions. Little girls fantasize about the sons they have yet to have and how they ought to be like Kiowa. Young men feel their arms and measure themselves against Kiowa. To look at the newest warrior, he doesn't seem to be much larger in stature than they are, which gives them hope that one day they will be as brave and as courageous as he is.
Kids lead the squaw in a dance to honor Kiowa. He'd hoped to be the hero, but he'd never suspected it would be so soon. Squaw as young as fifteen flap their arms like birds and dance around a tall pole that's covered in red paint and decorated with fresh scalps. Eagle and owl feathers form a feathery ring around the top and bottom of the pole. Beads of all kinds of colors are fastened to strings and adorn the pole from top to bottom. A short struggle ensues for the honor to carry the trophies, but Kida, being bigger, stronger, and most fierce, wins the honor. They begin to sing in a soft, sweet tone, which grows louder with the beating drum. Somehow they all keep time perfectly. As the drumbeat increases, the girls dance more wildly.
Young men shoo the girls away. They smooth out the earth while the Dog Warriors strip down to their breechcloths. They paint one another's bodies white and dress in buffalo skin. While they do this, they make buffalo noises.
Once the warriors are painted from head to toe, they dip their hands in yellow paint. Each one presses his open hand on Kiowa's body. It isn't long before Kiowa is covered in the highest honor the warriors have to offer, the compliment of the sun.
Kiowa is offered a plate of black paint. He dips his hands in and is instructed by his uncle to paint his feet. Since Kida has subdued the other females, she is permitted to tie prairie sage around Kiowa's wrists and ankles. She completes his victory outfit by placing a jackrabbit bonnet on his head.
Paw places a crow wing in one hand and blows through an eagle-bone whistle.
Kiowa sees Moon Beam watching from a distance. The silver fox seems to acknowledge Kiowa's victory through humble observation. His glittering green eyes flicker in the fire's flames. And he seems to be smiling.
Grass Woman brings his magic pouch out to him. "My son's magic is strong. I give him my blessing and the most potent magic I have, the power to blind his enemies. I have placed it in this pouch alongside his father's, and now no one can do him harm."
The tribe hoots and howls.
Kida dances and raises her hands as she shouts, "If you have eyes, let them see that this great warrior will steal your horse, take your scalp, and win your heart. He will be a ghost in the night and a spirit in the day."
"Hey hoe!" The Dog Warriors shout.
Kida beckons the tribe to follow her wild gyrations. Everyone dances around the fire, spinning themselves into a dizzy fray.
Warriors take turns shouting their prayers to Kiowa's idol. They say things like, "Keep our enemies asleep while we creep upon them. Let us plunder them and gain many scalps. Help us take captives to fill the empty spots of our fallen brothers and sisters. Help us steal good horses and, please, don't let us get hurt."
This praising dance lasts hours. When the children can't possibly twirl, spin, or wave their arms anymore, they sit cross-legged at the fire.
The warriors last the longest. They rattle their gourds and make use of any instrument they can contrive. Eventually the squaw and the men dance shoulder to shoulder, swaying back and forth as one tribe. A flute draws the tribe in toward the fire, and a rattle sends the circle back.
Grass Woman walks into the center of the circle. She spreads her arms out and drapes Black Bear's scalp across her back. "Whose scalp rests on my shoulders?" she asks the tribe.
The young men shout, "Our common enemy, Man-Bear."
With a spin and a turn, she displays the scalp to all of the young girls. They hiss at their enemy and spit on the moist scalp to cast off his evil spirit.
"Which of you believes yourself worthy to be my daughter? Which of you can give me grandsons?" Grass Woman challenges the young girls.
Not one squaw speaks, but the answer rests perfectly on Kida's confident face. She believes herself to be worthy of such a great honor, and though she wants to shout, "I will give Kiowa the most powerful sons," she doesn't. Instead, she slips her tongue between her teeth and bites hard enough to make herself cry.
A word: Justice or revenge? I'm going with justice. Chief Black Bear used a power he didn't understand to wage a war he couldn't win. This sort of thing has a way of coming full circle. If you look at the French revolution back in the 18th century, the men responsible for the slaughter, were in fact slaughtered. Funny how that works. Grass Woman sure is happy. How many of you would let the scalp of your enemy rest on your shoulders? I for one would not. Wow, from a boy to a man, Kiowa sure is on his way!
If you would like to read this story in its entirety, feel free to buy it on Amazon. "Harvest Moon," by Zachary H. Lovelady. If you would like to see these characters come to life, vist instagram: harvestmoonofficial.