Chapter 19 I SPEAK WITH CUWIGNAKA

"Cuwignaka!" I cried, startled, entering the inerior of our lodge.

He was sitting, cross-legged, within the lodge. His head was down. His head was in his hands. He lifted his head. "They would not let me dance," he said. "Cancega, himself, medicine chief of all the Kaiila, at the behest of Hci, refused me entrance into the dance lodge."

"You must have heard," I said, "of the alleged attack by Canka on Mahpiyasapa?"

"Yes," he said, bitterly. "Hci has won," he said. "Hci has won all."

"I am sorry, my friend," I said, "about the dance. I am sorry." I sat down, cross-legged, near him.

"If I am not permitted to dance," asked Cuwignaka, "how can I prove to them I am a man?"

"I am sorry, my friend," I said. In these moments, in my sorrow for Cuwignaka, I forgot my own bruises and pain. I knew that Cuwignaka, for years, had dreamed of entering the lodge of the great dance, there to test and prove the manhood from which his people seemed determined to preclude him. It was there, too, perhaps, in the loneliness and pain of the dance, that he wished himeself to learn the truth in this secret and momentous matter.

"Tatankasa," said Cuwignaka, suddenly, "what is wrong?"

"Nothing," I said.

"You are hurt," he said, concerned.

"It is nothing," I said.

Cuwignaka crawled over to where I sat. He put his hand at the side of my head. "Your head has been gashed," he said.

I winched. "I was beaten," I said.

He went then to the side of the lodge and brought back a cloth. He wiped blood away from the side of my head.

"Who did this?" he asked.

"Two men, warriors of the Isanna, on the command of Watonka," I said.

"What did you do?" asked Cuwignaka.

"It was foolishness," I said. "I meddled in matters in which I knew nothing. I should have known better."

"But what did you do?" he asked.

"It is nothing," I said. I did not want him in his great disappintment, to concern himself with my foolishness.

"Tell me," he said. I took the cloth from him and folded it, and held it against the wound, to stanch te flow of blood.

"I am sorry about the dance," I said. "I know how keenly you desired to enter the lodge."

"Why were you beaten, my friend?" he asked.

"This morning," I said, "converse did I hold with a blond slave, after amusing myself with her. I had used her before. She was formerly a herd girl. A woman once of the high city of Ar, she had been captured by Dust Legs and suitably enslaved. seh was later traded to Sleen who, in turn, traded her to Yellow Knives. She came to the Isanna among the frits of a girl raid. On the basis of her experience with the Yellow Knives she had told me that the three Yellow Knives in the camp are not civil cheiftains, as is claimed, but war chiefs."

"She is obviously mistaken," said Cuwignaka.

"Obviously," I said. I moved my body. It hurt to move it.

"You told this to Watonka?" asked Cuwignaka.

"I would rather," I said, ruefully, "have toldit to someone else, and, acutally, it was to Bloketu that I told it. It was only that Watonka was there."

"It is too bad to be beaten over such a thing." said Cuwignaka.

"I agree," I smiled. I pulled the cloth from my head. It stuck with the blood, and then pulled free. But the wound did not begin again to bleed. "I do not think WAtonka would have paid us attention," I said, "except that Iwoso leaped at me, striking me, crying out that I was a lying slave."

"That reaction seems excessive on her part," said Cuwignaka. "After all, what business is it of hers?"

"Watonka, too, was very angry," I said. "I feared he might attack me with his knife. One of the Yellow Knives, one of the civil chieftains, intervened. I was only beaten."

"That seems throughful for a Yellow Knife," said Cuwignaka.

"He said it was a time of happiness and peace." I said.

"He is obviously a civil chieftain," said Cuwignaka.

"Yes," I said.

"Or pretending to be," said Cuwignaka, carefully.

"I am sore," I said.

"He did not wish to have blood spilled," said Cuwignaka.

"That seems so," I admitted.

"Why?" asked Cuwignaka.

"There might be many reasons," I speculated.

"Perhaps he thought the spilling of blood might not be suspicious shortly before the opening of a council on peace," said Cuwignaka.

"Perhaps," I said.

"But, too," said Cuwignaka, "such an act might have called much attention to itself. People might inquire, for example, why it was done, what it was all about."

I shrugged. "Perhaps," I said.

"Why shoudl watonka and Iwoso have been so angry?" he asked.

"I do not know," I said.

"What was Bloketu's reaction?" he asked.

"I do not think she wished to see harm come to me," I said.

"This incident occurred just outside the council lodge," said Cuwignaka.

"No," I said. "It occurred among the lodges of the Isanna."

"But this happened recently, did it not?" asked Cuwignaka.

"Yes," I said, "just a bit ago."

"Watonka and the others were on their way to the council lodge?" asked Cuwignaka.

"No," I said. "They seemed to be waiting, among the lodges."

"This is very interesting," said Cuwignaka, cautiously. "One would think that they would have been on their way to the council, if not within the council lodge, by then."

"Perhaps," I said. It was not clear to me what Cuwignaka was driving at.

"The great men of the Kaiila should all be within the council lodge," said Cuwignaka. "Why not Watonka?"

"Mahpiyasapa is not there either," I said. "He has gone off somewhere."

"That is a different matter, I think," said Cuwignaka.

"I think so," I said.

"At the time for the council to begin," mused Cuwignaka, "Watonka seems in no hurry to be within the lodge."

"That seems so," I said.

"The lodge contains the great men of the Kaiila," said Cuwignaka, "but Watonka, and the Yellow Knives, are not there."

"No," I said.

"Tell me, my friend, Tatankasa," said Cuwignaka. "Does there seem anything unusual to you, today, about the camp? Is there anything noticably different?"

"The hurds have been brought in, close to the camp," I said. "I saw one of the lads that commonly watches one of the, one of the girl herds. From him I learned, too, that the pickets and guards of the Isanna have been brought in."

"On whose orders?" inquired Cuwignaka.

"Watonka's." I said.

"Why?" asked Cuwignaka.

"I do not know," I said. "I suppose because it is a time of peace. It is the time of dances, of feasts and festivals. There is no danger. Tribes do not attack one another at such times."

"True," said Cuwignaka, slowly. "It has been so for a hundred winters."

"I was alarmed when I first learned this," I said, "but, I gather, you agree there is nothing to worry about."

"The camp is exposed on the west." said Cuwignaka.

"Yes," I said.

"Why would Watonka do this?" he asked.

"It is a time of peace," I ventured.

"Also," said Cuwignaka, "persumably even a large war party would hesitate to attack a camp of this size."

"Yes," I said.

"Think carefully," said Cuwignaka.

"The Yellow Knives were standing in the vicinity of a small, rised place, prominent among the Isanna lodges. On this small, raised place stood Watonka. On this small, raised place, too, was a stick, surrounded by two circles, a larger one and smaller. I take it that the measurement of time was being accomplished by this stick and the circles. The inner circle, I think, would ahve had the edge of the shadow reach it or fall within it about noon."

"Interesting," said Cuwignaka.

"Yes," I said. "Why would they not simply judge noon by the position of the sun?"

"The stick is moe accurate," said Cuwignaka. "Too, the shadow may be watched intently, as the sun may not be."

"The council is to begin at noon," I said. "Doubtless they were interested in a more precise judgement of time than might be afforded by simple visual sightings."

"Why?" asked Cuwignaka.

"I do not know," I said. to be sure, this question seemed a sensible one. Red savages are not ordinarily concerned with such precise measurments of time.

"Was there anything else that might have seemed unusual which you noted?" asked Cuwignaka.

"One thing or another," I said.

"What?" asked Cuwignaka.

"Watonka seemed interested in watching the sky," I said.

"The sky?" asked Cuwignaka.

"Yes," I said.

"Did he watch the entire sky?" asked Cuwignaka.

"No," I said. "He seemed interested in only one direction."

"What direction?" asked Cuwignaka, alarmed.

"The southwest," I said.

"I am afraid, Tatankasa," said Cuwignaka. "I am very afraid."

"Why?" I asked.

"It is from the southeast that the Pte came," said Cuwignaka.

"Yes?" I said.

"They were early this year," said Cuwignaka. "The Pte were very early. They should not have come as early as they did."

"That is true," I said. We had speculated on this matter before. To be sure, it had not seemed to be of much consern to Cuwignaka until now.

"You seem alarmed," I said. Cuwignaka's anxiety made me uneasy.

"It cannot be," said Cuwignaka, firmly.

"What?" I asked.

"Was there anything else unusual about Watanka, and the Yellow Knives?" pressed Cuwignaka.

"He and his entire party, including Iwoso and Bloketu, wore yellow scarves, or sashes, about their bodies," I said.

"Why?" asked Cuwignaka, frightened.

"To identify them, I suppose," I said.

"To whom?" asked Cuwignaka. "They are well known in the camp."

I suddenly felt chilly. "I do not know," I said.

"Do you recall, Tatankasa," asked Cuwignaka, "some days ago, when we spoke with Bloketu and Iwoso outside our lodge. I was scraping a hide."

"Yes," I said.

"Iwoso was to become important, it seemed," he said. "From this we conjectured that Watonka, and Bloketu, too, would then be even more important."

"Yes," I said.

"How could one be more important among my people than to be a civil chieftain of a rich band?" asked Cuwignaka.

"To become, I suppose, a high chief of all the bands," I said, "a chief of the tribe, as a whole."

"but there are no first chiefs, no high chiefs, among Kaiila, exept maybe, sometime, a war chief," said Cuwignaka. "It is not our way."

"Perhaps there could be presige, and riches, garnered in gift giving, as the result of arranging the peace," I said. I recalled we had thought about this matter along these lines before. It had, at that time, seemed a sensible way of viewing matters.

"Watonka is already rich in women and kaiila," said Cuwignaka. "There is only one thing he cannot be rich in, among our peoples."

"What is that?" I asked.

"Power," said Cuwignaka.

"What are you saying?" I asked, alarmed. "I am becoming afraid."

"What time is it?" asked Cuwignaka.

"It must be noon, by now," I said.

"There is no time to lose," said Cuwignaka, leaping to his feet.

"What is wrong?" I asked.

"The camp is going to be attacked," said Cuwignaka. "The pickets, the guards, have been withdrawn from the west. The Pte was early! Watonka looks to the sky, to the southeast!"

"I do not understand," I said.

"Why were the Pte early?" asked Cuwignaka.

"I do not know," I said.

"They were being hunted, being driven, by a new people," Said Cuwignaka. "Something is behind them. A new force has come into our country."

"But wAtonka was looking to the sky," I said.

"That is what makes me most afraid," he said. "It is like the old stories, told long ago by travelers, warriors who had ridden farther than others."

"What can we do?" I asked.

"We must alert the camp," said Cuwignaka.

"Even if you are right," I said, "even if the camp should be in danger, even if attack was imminent, no one will believe us. You wear the dress of a woman. I am a slave. We will be only mocked, only laughed at."

"One will not laugh at us or mock us," said Cuwignaka. "There is one who will listen."

"Who is that?" I asked.

"Hci," said Cuwignaka, angrily.

He then rushed from the lodge and I, rising to my feet, hurried after him. Outside he looked wildly to the sky, to the southeast, and then began to run between the lodges. I, too, looked at the sky. It was clear.

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