10

Out of the mists of a fading dawn two figures emerged from the trees. Ben watched his sons’ approach, each footfall stirring ghostly tendrils on the ground and making him wonder yet again at how completely the tribe had melted away into those very mists. Like ghosts themselves, they drifted with the dawn, some moving toward an unnamed place they considered to be safer, others toward the outlaws, intent on reclaiming their women and wreaking their revenge.

“Those who were injured,” Paul had told the chief, “shouldn’t be moved. Not yet. It’s too soon.”

But his concerns were ignored. Some who couldn’t walk rode out on the few horses that had remained after the outlaws’ raid. Those who couldn’t ride were secured onto travois hastily but efficiently constructed using timbers and other materials taken from the wickiups.

“I made a promise to help you,” Ben had pressed. “Allow me to keep that promise. We can bring medicines and food, even livestock.”

But Ben also was ignored. “What we took from you,” the chief had said. “We cannot return. We will take no more.”

Ben had been confused, arguing that nothing had been taken. Their horses and weapons had been returned to them, and though blood had been spilled, the wounds would heal. Still the chief had adamantly refused any further help.

Now they were gone. It was almost as though they had never been there at all. Only Ben, his sons, and his old friend, Paul Martin remained.

“Well, it’s done, Pa,” Hoss said when he drew close enough. “But I sure don’t ever want to go back there again.”

Ben looked up at him and nodded, shielding his eyes from a blinding ray as the sun reached high enough to shoot beams of light through the trees like flaming arrows. “I don’t imagine you will ever have another need to visit an Indian burial ground.”

“I sure hope not.” Hoss dug his hands into his pockets, a gesture that always made Ben believe he was trying to make himself smaller. “I’m just glad I didn’t have to do it alone this time. Somehow that little girl was like the heaviest of all of ’em.”

Adam clapped his brother companionably on the shoulder. “I’d just as soon be gone from here as well.” His eyes moved toward Little Joe, still stretched out beside the fire. “What about sleeping beauty? The sooner we can get him up and moving, the sooner we can get home.”

Ben smiled. “He’s coming around.”

“Yeah,” Joe said softly without opening his eyes. “I’m coming around.”

“Well then get up already,” Adam prodded, wearing a mischievous grin. “You think we’re gonna just let you sleep the day away?”

“I’m up,” Joe said. “I’m—”

Ben’s smile saddened when he saw Joe cringe from the effort of pushing himself into a sitting position. Yes, the wounds would heal, as he’d told the chief; but the healing was going to take some time.

“I’m up,” Joe repeated, sighing. Then he looked around him, pulling his brows down as though he was puzzled by something. “This,” he said, casting hesitant glances at each member of his family and then back to his surroundings, “this wasn’t always like this.” He finally locked eyes with his father. “Was it?”

Smiling softly, Ben shook his head. “No, Joe. It wasn’t.”

“There was a village here?”

“Yes.”

“Why isn’t it here now?”

“They decided it was time to move on.”

“Why?” Joe seemed more than nervous then, as though he was truly bothered by something.

“What’s wrong, son?”

“I had a dream….”

“Ah, yes,” Adam said, moving closer. “We heard all about it.”

Joe shot his brother a skeptical glare. “How could you hear about it? I only just woke up!”

“We heard you traveled a dream road, little brother.” There was plenty of skepticism in Adam’s grin, too. “Soquitch guided you; he told us everything you told him about what you saw.”

Joe pulled his brows lower. “Soquitch?”

“That medicine man’s apprentice,” Hoss answered. “Or whatever it is you call it.”

“What’d he tell you?”

“You saw the attack on the village,” Adam said. “Then everyone vanished and you were alone. Or almost alone, anyway. There was a turkey there, too.” His grin was back, and it was every bit as mischievous as before.

“Aw, Adam,” Hoss complained. “Soquitch told it a whole lot better than that. It sounded downright spooky they way he told it. You just make it sound funny.”

“Well, it is a bit silly,” Adam said. “Don’t you think?” He looked at Joe.

Joe was still bothered. “No.”

“Tell us what you really dreamt.”

Joe looked around at all of them again before settling his gaze on Adam’s. “You already described it,” he said, more bewildered than before. “Most of it, anyway. Only…like Hoss said. It was downright spooky.”

“Come now, Joe. You don’t really—”

“Adam,” Ben cut in. “Why don’t you get your brother something to eat? He must be half starved. And Hoss? See if Doc Martin’s ready to go. He’s down by the water, freshening up.”

“That wasn’t all, Pa.” Joe said, pulling Ben’s attention away from his brothers.

“What?”

“The dream. There was more to it than that.”

“I’m sure there was.”

“There was a little girl.”

“A girl?” Ben’s gaze shifted toward Hoss again.

“I tried to help her, but I couldn’t.” The words were Joe’s, but somehow Ben could hear Paul saying them as well. “I couldn’t help her, Pa. She died. Right there in front of me. She died.”

Yes, Ben realized. Joe sounded exactly like Paul. “It was just a dream, Joe.”

“No. It was more than that. I can’t explain it, but…it wasn’t just a dream.”

Ben sighed. “Joe,” he said, returning his attention to his youngest son until he saw that Adam was already on his way back with some of the leftovers from the night before.

“Was there a girl, Pa?” Joe asked before Ben could say anything more. “Was a little girl one of the ones who died?”

Adam halted in his steps for just a moment, his gaze moving to Ben’s. “Yes, Joe,” Adam answered instead. Finishing his approach, he crouched down beside his brother. “I’m sure you heard Hoss and me talking about burying her.”

“No,” Joe said. “I saw her. I tried…I…I couldn’t reach her.”

“It was a dream, Joe.” Adam’s hand fell to Joe’s shoulder. “It was a dream inspired by everything that happened, everything you heard. I have no doubt you would have helped her if you could have.”

“I wonder if she knows.” Joe’s gaze eased from perplexed to simply curious. “If she knew.”

A soft breeze slid across Ben’s face. He took a deep breath of the fresh air it brought. “Yes, Joe. She…knows. They all do. Now.”

The sound of a guffaw behind him swung Ben around to see Hoss returning with Paul Martin. Ben’s middle son slapped Paul on the back so hard the smaller man stumbled forward before catching his step. Fortunately, there was a smile on Paul’s face, too. It was enough to remind Ben of the day before, of the laughter they had all shared until…until that arrow had struck Little Joe. How could so much happen in so short a period of time?

“Hey, Pa!” Hoss called out as he drew closer. “The doc here got me to thinking about Hop Sing.”

“Yes, well,” Ben said. “We’ll be home soon enough, and you’ll have as much food as you can stomach.”

“Oh, I know that.” Hoss gestured dismissively. “No, I mean our clothes. Look at us!” He pulled at the bottom of his shirt. “I got all these bloodstains here. And Adam,” he pointed, “that collar of his is a mess. And Joe…well, there won’t be any fixing that sleeve of his.”

Ben tensed. How could Hoss think any of that was funny?

“I asked Doc Martin what he thought Hop Sing would say when he sees us comin’ home.”

Ben waited while they finished their approach. And then Hoss patted Paul’s back much more gently than before. “Tell ’em, Doc. Tell ’em what you think Hop Sing’s gonna say.”

Paul shrugged. “All I said was you’ll never know.”

Ben felt his brows pull down, confused. “What? Why not?”

“Because he won’t be speaking in English. He’ll be yelling, alright. But he certainly will not be doing it in English.”

And suddenly Ben found himself laughing nearly as hard as he had the day before.

XxXxX

After Hoss said the horses were ready to go, Adam doused the small campfire and then reached down to help Joe to his feet, but before Joe could take his hand a gust of wind forced them both to shield their faces from the dirt it stirred up.

“Where’d that come from?” Adam asked without really expecting an answer.

Joe looked up at him and smiled. “Must be that dream road you were tellin’ me about.”

Adam grinned right back at him. “Yeah. Must be.”

When Adam reached down again, Joe didn’t notice; he already had his hand pressed against the ground to push himself to his feet. But Joe stopped moving then. He kept his gaze on the ground, as though something strange had drawn his attention. A moment later, he slowly lifted his hand, showing Adam the feather in his grasp.

Adam took a deep breath. “Turkey?” he found himself asking.

“Turkey,” Joe confirmed.

“I suppose you’d better keep it. Doc Martin said that turkey in your dream saved all our lives.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in my dream.”

“Whether or not I believe in your dream isn’t the point.”

“Then what’s the point?”

“If a turkey saved our lives, it’s probably not a good idea to get it mad by turning away a gift.”

Though Adam’s wink elicited a grin from his brother, he wasn’t feeling nearly as confident as he hoped he sounded. In fact, he was honestly relieved to see Joe slip the feather into his belt before reaching up to finally take Adam’s hand.

XxXxX

~end~

 

End Notes:

I have taken many liberties with regard to tribal life and rituals of the Shoshoni. I’ve kept details to a minimum and have been relying on the fact that this particular tribe is not living under its usual, normal conditions.

The turkey as an animal totem is interesting. I did some small amount of investigation a few months back, when I started to have a lot of peculiar encounters with wild turkeys, which usually are pretty good at keeping out of sight.

According to one web site: “Turkey reminds us that all life is sacred.  That we are all interrelated with one another.  Turkey energy is of sharing and giving willingly and freely.  Turkey speaks of abundance through sacrifice.  Those with Turkey totem know that there will always be enough. Turkey also speaks of gifts.  The gift from Turkey may come in a variety of ways.  You may win the lottery, you may always be able to have ‘just enough,’ it may be as simple as a glorious sunrise that gives you a whole new perspective, or something so major it changes your entire life.  http://drnikki.com/Modalities/Totem/NikTotWitTurkey.html

According to another site: “With a Turkey totem, you have transcended self. You act and react on behalf of others. This act is not a sense of moralism or guilt, but a deep knowledge that all life is sacred. What you do for others, you also do for yourself. To have a Turkey totem is a true gift. Its gift may be spiritual, material or intellectual. Through giving to others will you reach your own goals.” http://www.linsdomain.com/totems/pages/turkey.htm

XxXxX

Shoshoni words used in this story were taken from the following resources:

http://www.trailtribes.org

http://historytogo.utah.gov/people/ethnic_cultures/the_history_of_utahs_american_indians/chapter2.html

http://www.isu.edu/~loetchri/

Guyungwi’yaa means Turkey

Nabidengedaigwahni means Warrior

Mumbi-chi means owl. Mumbi’chi dugani da’ga means the owl flies in the night.

Nanewenee means my relations

Newenee means the people

Zee-coo-Chee means Chipmunk

Da-boo-zee means Cottontail Rabbit

Sogitch means Many Buffalo