Young Medicine Man

While Little Eagle waited patiently in front of the tepee of Clawing Bear, the medicine man, several of his friends went past. Each of the boys was carrying a bow and arrows.

“Get your bow,” Angry Wolf called. “We’re having a shooting match.”

Little Eagle shook his head.

“I’m taking a lesson from Clawing Bear,” he explained.

“You can take lessons every day when we are in winter camp,” Angry Wolf pointed out. “Today Roaring Lion is giving some fine arrows as prizes.”

Little Eagle’s eyes gleamed. Roaring Lion was one of the best makers of arrows in the whole Sioux nation. One of them would be a prize worth more than a lesson. Little Eagle knew that there was little chance he could win one of the arrows. He was about the poorest shot among the boys in the camp. Still, this time luck might be with him. Certainly it was too good a chance to miss. He started to get to his feet to go with Angry Wolf, but changed his mind and sat down again.

“I have promised to take a lesson,” he said. “I’ll keep my promise.”

“You might as well,” Wounded Face spoke up. “You couldn’t win a prize anyway.”

Little Eagle jumped angrily to his feet. He’d show Wounded Face that he could win a prize. But before he had taken the second step toward his own tepee, Little Eagle realized that this was no way for a Sioux to act. If he expected to become a great warrior and medicine man, he must keep the promises he made.

“I’ll keep my promise,” he repeated.

Little Eagle squatted again in front of the tepee while Angry Wolf and Wounded Face went on. It seemed a long time before Clawing Bear called for him to come into the tepee.

When Little Eagle stepped inside, Clawing Bear had a pot of grease simmering over a tiny fire. The medicine man motioned for Little Eagle to sit at one side of the fire.

Little Eagle tried to keep his mind on what Clawing Bear was doing, but his thoughts wandered to where the other boys were shooting at the slender target set up for them. He could almost see himself splitting the target while Wounded Face missed. He leaned forward, trying to make his mind and his eyes follow Clawing Bear’s movements.

Abruptly the medicine man stepped away from the fire. He turned quickly, and his burning glance made Little Eagle’s eyes meet his.

“I try to teach you the wisdom of Sioux medicine men,” Clawing Bear growled, “and your mind wanders off to where other boys are shooting for prizes.”

Little Eagle dropped his eyes guiltily. Truly Clawing Bear had looked into his mind.

“I am sorry,” he apologized, and then added with conviction, “I can mix the poultice.”

“Do it then,” Clawing Bear ordered, upsetting the bowl with his foot so that the contents spilled onto the fire. A dense cloud of biting smoke filled the tepee.

Little Eagle waited until some of the smoke had seeped out at the top of the tepee before he got to his feet. He pulled the bowl from the fire and set it aside. He selected another bowl, put grease in it, and set it on the fire. He began to add powdered herbs which he took from the bags Clawing Bear had hanging on the wall of the tepee.

Clawing Bear had seated himself and was watching Little Eagle’s every move. Little Eagle carefully selected the materials to go into the bowl. He hesitated as he reached for the powdered herb in a large bag. At first he took a handful, but he changed his mind and dropped only a pinch into the bowl. He stirred the mixture until it began to boil. When he glanced toward Clawing Bear, he saw a look of approval on the medicine man’s face.

“You nearly missed,” Clawing Bear said gruffly. “I know it’s hard for a boy of twelve summers to study when other boys are playing. There will be no more lessons today.”

Using two sticks as tongs, Little Eagle lifted the bowl off the fire. His eyes moved from the bowl back to the fire as though they had been drawn by a magnet. He gave a little gasp as, in the leaping flames, he seemed to see a party of Crow warriors riding swiftly. He tried to count them, but they went too fast. As the Crows appeared to fade away in the fire, Little Eagle became aware that Clawing Bear was speaking to him. He tried to collect his scattered wits so that he could answer respectfully.

“Tomorrow I’ll be a better pupil,” he promised.

“Tomorrow you will think about becoming a warrior and a hunter,” Clawing Bear answered sadly. “Learning the arts of a Sioux medicine man is more important, but you won’t think so.”

Little Eagle moved toward the flap of the tepee. In a moment Clawing Bear would make the sign of dismissal. There might still be time to race to the tepee, get his bow and arrows, and join the contest.

“Wait,” Clawing Bear ordered. “You have done better than I expected. As a reward, you may carry some of the poultice with you.”

Little Eagle tried to keep his face from showing the pleased surprise he felt. A real warrior or a real medicine man would have given no sign of pleasure. He watched as Clawing Bear picked up a small bag made from the lining of a deer’s stomach. The medicine man filled it with the mixture from the bowl. Then he took a sack made of soft elk leather and placed the bag of ointment inside the leather sack. He tied the sack with a long thong. He made a knot in the ends of the thong so that the sack would hang at Little Eagle’s belt in the place where a tomahawk would hang when Little Eagle became a warrior.

“What you have learned today may save some Sioux’s life,” Clawing Bear told him solemnly.

Little Eagle tried to find the right words to thank the medicine man. There were words which he should speak, but his tongue couldn’t say them. A brief smile touched the lips of the medicine man.

“I do not care for words,” he said. “Let your deeds thank me.”

Clawing Bear gravely made the sign of dismissal, but Little Eagle didn’t scamper out of the tepee. Instead he stepped out slowly as a warrior would have stepped out of the council wigwam.

When he had gone a few paces, he remembered the other boys. He turned quickly toward his own tepee. He had covered about half of the distance when a commotion near the council wigwam attracted his attention. He turned to look. There was a crowd of warriors near the entrance to the wigwam. A party of Crow chiefs in splendid headdresses was going slowly toward the entrance. Little Eagle had been so busy with his lessons that he had forgotten this was the day for the powwow between the Crow chiefs and the chiefs of his own tribe to start.

Little Eagle stood watching the Crows as they filed into the wigwam. He thought of how bitterly he hated these enemies of his people. Reluctantly, he admitted to himself that the Crow chiefs were brave. The Sioux chiefs had promised them safety while they were in the Sioux camp, but who knew when a young man, anxious to become a warrior, would ambush them on the way to or from their own camp?

Little Eagle’s glance swept over the camp. He saw that there was no real danger to the Crow chiefs. The Sioux dog soldiers had formed a circle around the camp. It was the duty of the dog soldiers to see that camp orders were obeyed. Ordinarily they did little except when they were with a war party or a hunting party. However, now they would see to it that no Sioux left the camp until the Crow chiefs had had time to return to their own camp. Little Eagle was surprised that the teacher and the boys had been allowed to leave camp for the contest. Then he saw that they hadn’t. They were standing with the warriors, watching the Crows.

Little Eagle started toward them, but changed his mind. He remembered that strange sight he had seen in Clawing Bear’s fire. Those Crow warriors he had seemed to see had been shown to him as a sign. It was a warning. The Crows didn’t really want to make peace. They were planning treachery. Flying Wolf, the chief in charge of the Sioux camp was letting the Crows lead him down a blind path. Little Eagle turned and hurried to his own tepee.

When Little Eagle came out of his tepee, he had his bow and quiver of arrows in his hand. He turned toward the land-of-the-setting-sun. In that direction there were low hills covered with small trees and thickets of brush. Little Eagle had no plan for getting past the dog soldiers he could see pacing back and forth along the top of the hill. He hoped a plan would come to him.

The Sioux camp had been pitched at the base of the hills along the river. There were two rows of tepees, each row forming an arc. When Little Eagle reached the tepee in the second row, he stood near it to watch the dog soldiers. He saw that the dog soldier at the nearest post was Laughing Horse, one of the youngest warriors in the band.

Little Eagle noticed that while Laughing Horse walked his beat steadily, as a good dog soldier should, he often looked toward the river. Little Eagle turned and looked in that direction to see what was attracting the dog soldier’s attention. He grinned to himself when he saw that the squaws and young women were working at buffalo hides. Undoubtedly Summer Flower was among them. Laughing Horse was trying to catch sight of the young woman to whom he was paying court. At any other time Little Eagle would have raised a derisive shout.

Little Eagle turned his attention back to Laughing Horse. He watched closely to see how often the dog soldier glanced toward the camp, how often he looked toward the land-of-the-setting-sun, and how often he glanced toward the women. As he watched, Little Eagle kept count of time by slowly folding and unfolding his fingers. He soon knew how long the dog soldier looked in each direction.

Little Eagle tensed himself. The moment Laughing Horse’s back was turned, Little Eagle made a running dive for the nearest clump of shrubs. While he was running, Little Eagle was folding and unfolding his fingers as he had done while he was watching the dog soldier. There was a little more time left before Laughing Horse would turn toward the river. Little Eagle used that time to wriggle farther into the shrubs.