CHAPTER 22
Two Moons takes off the bearskin and wipes his brow.
"I'm so filled with joy, I have to find a bigger drum!" He hands his bearskin to his son, then runs over to the largest drum he owns. He beats on it with such force, the bass percussion vibrates through everyone's chests.
"Hiyah, oh, hey, ya hey!" Two Moons sings as he pounds away. "Today we dance to Kiowa's victory. Our brother has earned his father's name!"
"Hey hoe!" the warriors affirm.
A heavy beat on the drum picks up the pace. Flutes blow, and Paw leaps to his feet and joins Two Moons in telling the story of Lone Wolf's death. Now he is acting himself. Uncle and nephew circle the "man-bear" and stab at him with invisible spears. The bear twists and turns. He claws at them, bites at them. Tries his best to catch them with claws that snatch and teeth that tear. The two warriors show how clever they are through dance.
"Now you see with eyes you did not have before." Onendah interrupts the dance. He materializes out of nowhere. He flips his gray hair over his shoulder and adjusts his white buckskin pants. In his hands he carries his magic wand. In the other, a large, steaming leather pouch.
Kiowa nods. "You speak what I think."
"It is my gift," Onendah says, opening the leather pouch. He thrusts his hands in and pulls out fistfuls of glistening black mud.
"We must cleanse your spirit, so that you will be pure from Black Bear's power." Onendah smears warm grit all over Kiowa's chest. He covers the boy from head to toe. Kiowa's immediate family members are the only ones permitted to touch him.
"Today a new star is born. He shines for his people and his people shine for him!" Onendah shouts.
"Ah-hoe!" the tribe cries out. Women spread their arms and shake their rattles. They flick their tongues on the roof of their mouths and make a high-pitched noise that endorses Kiowa with their highest honor. Kida's pitch is the highest, and her dance maneuvers are the most pronounced.
"You have earned your war bonnet, Kiowa. Now you must prove your worth, one deed at a time. Your only reward for your sacrifice will be a single feather taken from the bonnet of your fallen enemy."
Onendah holds the golden lance high above his head. Kiowa's heart sinks. I wanted that for myself.
The tribe sees it for the first time and they rush to touch the sun's power. Onendah holds it away and pushes them back with his other hand. Though the amber glow doesn't work for the medicine man as it did for Chief Black Bear, its luster silences their celebration.
"Do you accept your destiny?" Onendah asks Kiowa.
Kiowa slowly looks at each of his warrior brothers. One by one, they nod in affirmation. He lifts his hands and accepts the lance.
"This will be the symbol I paint on my shield: the golden lance!"
The tribe cheer for him.
"Your magic and your first feather," Onendah says, placing the bonnet on his head.
Now no one can take the weapon from me. It is not permitted to borrow another's magic, Kiowa thinks.
The white rabbit fur at the base of the headband is tainted with black mud as Onendah fastens it to Kiowa's head.
"Your bonnet is stained. See that your honor is not!" Onendah says, raising his hands and presenting the shadowy figure to the tribe. Only the whites of Kiowa's eyes can be seen.
"Welcome to our ranks, brother! Now you are a Dog Warrior like your father," the warriors shout. The people respond with cries of their own.
Kida grins at Kiowa. She is now a beautiful woman. A single white swan feather dangles from her silky black hair. It brushes against her beaded buckskin dress, which hugs her bulging breasts.
Now he is a warrior for his people and his people will embrace him, she thinks with a hunger in her eyes Kiowa can't ignore. Now I will fulfill my destiny and bear warriors for the tribe.
The Woodcraft Indians wrap their arms around their chilled legs and envision what it would be like to be at the Indian dance.
The scoutmaster clears his throat and runs his fingers along his whiskers. His eyes are focused, and he tells the story as though he were there.
"As the years pass like grains of sand in the hourglass, the Kiowa tribe grows in numbers. When the winter comes, they travel down to the southlands, where the pine forests and prairie grass recede to desert lands and red rocky mountains."
"How many miles?" John asks.
"Many."
"Did they ride horses?" he asks.
"How else do you think they got along?" Luther mocks him.
John rattles off one of many questions.
Charlie ignores him and continues. "Paw, Makes Trouble, Kiowa, Two Moons, and Weasel Tail ride their horses miles in front of their tribe, scouting for water and lurking dangers, so as to avoid ambush and such by the other tribes."
"Look!" Two Moons shouts, pointing to a trailing plume of smoke off in the distance.
Moon Beam sits up on the back of Night Wind. He looks at the smoke trail, then back at Kiowa. He chirps in a way that catches Kiowa's attention.
"The Hopi village," Weasel Tail says, thinking of the furs he planned to trade for beads and booze.
"Must be a war party," Paw concludes.
"Who would attack the Hopi? They seek peace, not war," Kiowa says skeptically. Kiowa has never personally traded with the Hopi—that was a right reserved for the barterers in the tribe—but he had heard stories.
For no obvious reason, Kiowa feels a swift swelling rage circle inside like a burning tornado. He isn't sure why the idea of someone hurting the innocent bothers him so much, but it reminds him of his gentle friends, the deer.
Moon Beam leaps off Night Wind and cackles. He runs away, then back. He prances in the most unusual manner.
"You have had that fox too long. He thinks himself Indian. Look how he dances." Paw points at the strangely behaving animal.
"I want to know who carries cowardice in their hearts," Kiowa growls. He looks at Moon Beam and notices that his emerald eyes seem to glow in a different way. It's as if the silver fox is saying, Follow this way. The demigod turns and runs off, giving no sign of coming back.
"Moon Beam, wait!" Kiowa yells.
"I think we should ride on," Makes Trouble says, kicking at his brown mustang's side.
"Moon Beam, come back!" Kiowa shouts. The silver fox takes off in a panic. He looks back to ensure he's being followed. When he sees that he's being chased, he darts toward the Hopi village.
"MOON BEAM, NO!"
"Four against how many?" Two Moons asks, wondering the size of the enemy.
Kiowa kicks at his horse's side and gives chase to Moon Beam.
Paw follows Kiowa. He turns his head and shouts over his shoulder, "Weasel Tail, warn the tribe."
Message from the author: Another day another war. One of the things I love about the Kiowa tribe is their sense of right and wrong. I read a story where they acquired a captive from the Apache. A captive that was being treated very poorly. They threatened to kill the Apache if they didn't release the captive, a risk the Apache weren't willing to take. They brought the captive into their tribe and made him one of their own. He rose to a high position. Married a Kiowa woman and had Kiowa children. His story is "Andele: Or, The Mexican-Kiowa Captive." While you're checking that book out on Amazon, you should check my book out, "Harvest Moon," by Zachary H. Lovelady. I could use some reviews. I'm doing my best to bring the story to life on instagram. You can find my channel harvestmoonofficial. What are you waiting for? The love story begins in the next chapter!