Scalp

Chapter 1 - Greasy Grass River The greatest battle in the history of the world, her world, was about to begin and she would be the only woman there. The world as she knew it was about to change. The world would be better than it had ever been in just a day or so. Every nation Gentle Breeze could think of had warriors here. This would be their last great stand. This would be the battle that stopped the annihilation of her people. The enemy had moved into their land and stole the land and the buffalo, stole their horses and slaughtered and massacred her people. The enemy would no longer be able to exterminate her relatives. Her people would be free once again. Gentle Breeze and her husband sat on their ponies high on a ridge overlooking the Greasy Grass River as it was called by her people, the Lakota. It had been a most difficult journey. Gentle Breeze would be giving birth to her first child before the next full moon, the strawberry moon. They had left their village over two weeks ago but now they were here. Gentle Breeze was a beautiful young woman with dark eyes and long dark hair that she parted in the middle and had it tied on both sides with leather straps made from deer skin. She wore red beads in her hair that her mother gave her when she was a little girl. The beads ran across the front of her hair line forming what looked like a hairband. She was so pretty that most of the young men in her tribe had paid her a lot of attention. They would offer her gifts to persuade her to select them as her mate but she never accepted any of the gifts. She already knew who she was interested in. The man that caught her eye was a fast and strong warrior. He had muscles that made Gentle Breeze feel safe when she was with him. She loved the kindness he showed others but most of all she couldn’t get enough of his smile. His smile was so powerful it not only lit up his face but made her whole body tingle when she saw it. She grew up with Gray Fox and they were joined together last fall during the moon of the colorful falling leaves. Gray Fox was one of the few men that didn’t offer gifts but showed her attention in a way she liked even more. He was interested in her as a person. He listened to her ideas and seemed to value her company. He did small things like tease her and made her laugh during times when life was more of a struggle than fun and when food was scarce and people were going hungry. Gray Fox was the love of her life. He was in her heart forever. She was going to be with him always. This was the very reason she was with him now; here at the upcoming battle site. She could not stand to send him off to the fight without being there to help in any small way she could. From the ridge they could see thousands of teepees below and Indians completely covered the basin where the Greasy Grass River ran into the Big Horn River. She had never in her life seen that many Indians in one place. It seemed that all the Indians from the four winds had come to take part in this battle that would put an end to all the Indian wars and suffering. It would stop the white man once and for all. Her husband, Gray Fox, dismounted and walked the ponies along the top of the ridge over to where there was a thicket of trees and bushes. He helped Gentle Breeze to the ground and helped her find a place to sit near a path made by either deer or elk that lead into the thicket. Gray Fox walked away and when he returned he had an arm load of grasses to make a comfortable place for Gentle Breeze to rest. “You will have to stay here until I can return. I am leaving our food and water for you,” Gray Fox said. “I have made it this far and I want to go with you the rest of the way,” Gentle Breeze answered. “I won’t have it. The only reason you were allowed to come this far was because I saw you following me the second day I left. Women aren’t allowed to even be here. I love you and you have to keep our child safe. That’s even more important than what I’m doing.” “You’re right. If I have to ride down one more hill your son may arrive before we get to the camp.” “My son? Are you sure it’s a boy?” “Pretty sure.” “How do you know?” “I have a feeling and I don’t think I’m wrong about this. A mother just knows these things.” Gray Fox went over and put his hand on Gentle Breeze’s swollen belly. The baby kicked and Gray Fox smiled and his face lit up with pride. “Just think, after this battle, the white man will never hunt and try to kill our son,” he said. Gentle Breeze smiled. “Yes, maybe after this is over our son will be the one hunting them down.” Gentle Breeze got up and helped Gray Fox arrange her camp the way she wanted it. She had lived only sixteen summers but knew how she wanted things done. She had a strong will and got her way most of the time. Gray Fox, only being one summer older, gave in to avoid any conflict or disagreement that he knew he would lose anyway. At midday, Gentle Breeze took the food pouch and got them both a piece of buffalo jerky and fry bread. They sat in silence and ate. She did not want to think about him leaving soon but that was the only thing on her mind. After the meal, Gray Fox stood and went to hug her good-bye. She pulled away. She looked over at the Indian camp below. She looked back at Gray Fox then down at the ground. He held her face then tried to give her a kiss but she turned her head. Gray Fox took the lead strap of his pony and jumped up so his waist was over the back of her pony. He then held the pony’s main as he swung his leg over the back and sat. He handed down his blanket for Gentle Breeze to keep for him. “This will keep you warm at night. Don’t build a fire. I don’t want the army to see the smoke,” he said. Gentle Breeze reached over to take the lead strap of her pony. Gray Fox pulled it away and said, “I’m not leaving you a pony.” “You’re taking my pony too? But why? Are you afraid I will follow?” “No, I don’t want the pony to give away your location. This way you will be safer.” “But that’s my pony. I want it here with me.” “I don’t tell you no very often but this time I have to. Besides, this way you will be part of the battle. I will ride your pony and kill many of our enemy and someone will ride my pony and do the same. It’s time and now I must go.” Gentle Breeze handed the water bag made from a big horn sheep’s stomach and gave it to her husband. He shook his head no but she insisted. He took the bag and got a drink before handing it back to her. Gentle Breeze laid the water bag down and ran back over to Gray Fox and pulled his arm down. As he leaned toward her she put both her arms around his neck and hugged him tighter than she had ever hugged him before. She was just going to hang on to him as long as she possibly could. As long as she was holding on he couldn’t leave. The trip and carrying the child had worn her strength down. She felt her grip loosen and soon her arms dropped from around his neck. “I love you. Come back safe,” she said as Gray Fox turned the ponies and headed down toward the Indian camp. With tears forming in her eyes she watched him for as long as she could. She saw him ride into the camp where he was greeted and then surrounded by so many other Indians that it wasn’t long before he blended in with the rest of the warriors and she couldn’t tell which one was Gray Fox. Every once in a while she would get a glimpse of her pony and knew the rider was her husband. From her camp on the ridge high above the Greasy Grass River, she could see the entire Indian camp. She could hear some of the hollering floating up to her from the excitement below. She thought she saw Chief Sitting Bull and wondered if she would be able to see Chief Crazy Horse with him. She looked to see if Gray Fox would ride with them or another group.