Page 2 of The Last Warrior

“Then give the money back to him.”

Two Bears looked sheepish. “I have already spent it on food and farming tools for my family.”

Black Lion gritted his teeth.

“I have no way to pay him back the money,” Two Bears added.

“Tula, it would never work,” Black Lion said in defense, as though he knew he was trapped. “Except for our hair and eye color, we look nothing alike. The Long-haired Show Man will surely see the difference between the two of us.”

“He will not make the connection. I have heard him say that all Indians look alike. He will not presume to know the difference.”

“But there are other Hunkpapas going with the show. They know you; they know me. They will tell him of the deception, for they cannot lie.”

“But as long as the Long-haired Show Man does not ask them if you are who you say you are, no one need lie, not even you.”

Black Lion exhaled an extremely deep, drawn-out sigh.

Said Two Bears, “Think on it, my kola. Think on it.”

Black Lion hesitated. Inwardly, he wanted nothing to do with it. If he left here, it would, indeed, place him at a disadvantage. But Black Lion also knew that if Two Bears were in his place, his kola would do this for him, and more. Was that not the very meaning of a man’s kola? Was it not a friendship which placed honor to each other above all possessions, including one’s life, one’s vow to another?

At last, Black Lion nodded. “I have no need to think on it further. Of course I will do as you ask. You are right, I will have two years left when the show is ended, and were our places reversed, I know you would do this for me. Therefore, I will go in your place.”

Two Bears breathed out slowly, and across the room could be heard a feminine sigh of relief. Two Bears bobbed his head. “I ask much of you, my brother. This I will admit. Know this, however: if I were not so ill, I would never presume to impinge on you, on our vow of friendship. But I promise you this: in return for what you will be doing for me, when you come back to the reservation, I will help you in your quest in any way I can.” As though the mere speaking of these words taxed him, Two Bears lay back upon his bed of soft and warm buffalo robes, pulling a white man’s trade blanket up around his neck. “But have you considered that perhaps, what you seek may not be in this country? The white man is a cunning enemy, to be sure, and he lives in many different places. Perhaps what you hope to find is not here. Maybe this is the best chance you could ever have.”

Black Lion inclined his head. “Sece, perhaps. It could be.” Although personally, he didn’t think it was so. “Come, my friend, you need your rest. And I think your wife, Rabbit Leggings, is happy about our talk. But she is also waiting to serve you dinner.”

“Stay and partake your meal with us,” said Two Bears. “It would honor me if you would do so.”

In the not-so-long-ago past, Black Lion would have accepted the invitation without hesitation. But not now. Food was too scarce here on the rez. He shook his head. “I thank you for asking, but I must decline. If I am to leave with the Long-haired Show Man, I must find a spot where I might seek out the Great Spirit, for I would not go on this journey without His guidance.”

Two Bears jerked his chin to the left in a typical Lakota gesture. “Hau, yes. Go. Seek your vision as the old ones used to do before the white man came and forbade us to speak to the Creator as our fathers thought was right.”

Black Lion frowned. What his friend said was true. No longer could their people worship the Creator as they had always done. Indeed, so many Lakota traditions were now changed since the people had been forced onto these small reservations. In truth, the Lakota were almost a different people.

Black Lion said, “This is good advice. But I fear the Indian agent will never let me leave the reservation to seek this vision.”

“Then perhaps you could slip away undetected for a day or two without the Indian agent being the wiser. Certainly, our old scouts would have been able to do so. Seek out their advice.”

“Hau, hau. You give me good counsel. This I will do.”

“Waste. Good. It is good.” Two Bears lay back, inhaling an unsteady breath.

“And now I will leave you, kola. I will let you rest. I only ask this of you: once I go with this Long-haired Show Man, you will promise me that if it be in your power to do so, you will be well when I return.”

“I will give it all my best attention.” He grinned slightly.

“Then I can ask no more than this from you.”

The two men clutched arms, and, with a slight nod, Black Lion came up to his feet. Without another word, he let himself out of Two Bears’s shabby cabin.

Naked, Black Lion sat in a circle of the smoking, fragrant herbs, those of sage and sweet grass. As the Lost Clan’s medicine man, White Claw, had directed so long ago, Black Lion had cleansed his body in the herbs’ sacred smoke. Alert, Black Lion watched the morning sun rise into the eastern sky, and even though his spirits were low, he rejoiced in the new day set out before him.

Standing up atop a lonely butte, he raised his arms to the heavens. Lifting his voice so the Great Spirit heard it, he sang:

“Wakantanka, Great Spirit, I come to you to ask advice. What must I do to end this curse for my people?

Wakantanka, I leave this country to go with the Long-haired Show Man across the great water, for I am honor bound to defend my friend.