Page 6 of The Last Warrior

Accepting his fate, Black Lion seized hold of his headdress, as well as his shield, and stepped out of the lodge. Frowning, he inhaled the moisture-laden air as he quickly counted the number of women in his audience. At least there were only fifteen this time. Last night there had been more than fifty.

Giggles sounded around him. “May I have your autograph?” asked one of them.

He smiled at the girl. “For twenty-five bucks.” He uttered the words good-humoredly, however, for he accepted the young lady’s pen and paper without further argument.

“My parents have given me permission to ask you if you would like to join us for dinner this evening,” said another one of the women as Black Lion attempted to scribble out his name—although it wasn’t his name, it was his friend, Two Bears’s, name.

Black Lion nodded at the golden-haired, pretty and immaculately dressed girl. In truth, if duty were not so heavy on his shoulders, he would have liked nothing better than to spend more time in this young lady’s presence. But he could not. Not only was he a man haunted by a responsibility to his people, he was also here representing his friend, Two Bears, who was married.

“Stop it, Sadie, I wanted to ask him.” The owner of another voice pushed in toward him. “Maybe you could come to see me tomorrow?”

He breathed out another deep lament. Here before him was yet another beauty. Black Lion jerked his chin to the left—a Lakota gentleman’s gesture—and grinned first at one of them, then at the other woman. “I would like nothing better than to get to know you all,” he admitted. “Alas, I cannot.”

“Why can you not?” came several voices all at once.

“Because I have work to do and because⁠—”

“I…be jealous.” The voice was low, feminine and came from behind him.

Looking around, Black Lion recognized the wife of Running Fox, a fellow Hunkpapa tribal member. He smiled at this woman whom he knew to be called Little Star.

Meanwhile, the giggling of those surrounding him had stopped. Each of the beautiful young women was staring at the speaker.

“I…often jealous of…women,” Little Star stated, “who ask…husband to dinner.” It did not escape Black Lion’s notice that Little Star omitted saying exactly who her husband was.

“I didn’t know you were married,” observed one young lady.

“I didn’t either,” chipped in another.

“Nor I.”

“Sorry,” voiced Black Lion simply. “But Buffalo Bill rarely hires an American Indian man who is not married.” He cast Little Star a quick wink as well as a grateful smile. Little Star nodded. “And now,” said Black Lion to the girls at large, “I must leave you. I am late for my performance.”

Without a backward glance, he struck off toward the livery.

Once he was far enough away from the women, he didn’t waste another moment, but ran as though he were in a race, bolting over obstacles in his way, which included a rather large hitching post, as well as several mud holes.

“Where’s Ranckles?” he asked Old Doe, the man who attended to the animals.

“Son, you’re late,” the old-timer remarked.

“I know,” panted Black Lion, barely catching his breath. “I must hurry.”

“He’s over there in the stall. He’s saddled.” Old Doe winked.

“Thank you, Grandfather. I will honor you for this.”

“Honor? Forget about the honor, and just get in there. He’s come down here twice to check on ya.”

Black Lion had no need to ask who he was. Shoving a gift—a pouch of tobacco—into the old-timer’s hand, Black Lion adjusted his headdress over his hair, grabbed hold of Ranckles’s reins and hurriedly headed toward the arena.

It had rained the day before the show was to open. This was both good and bad. The good was that the air was clear, fresh and invigorating, if a little humid. The bad was there was muddy water everywhere.

Black Lion had no choice but to leap over the many mud holes, as he pulled Ranckles, an Appaloosa, after him.

In an effort to determine the time, Black Lion glanced upward toward the sun, not the best action to take when one is also running. Momentarily blinded, he rammed straight into an obstacle, sending whatever it was to the ground, and unfortunately for it, directly into the mud. Luckily for Black Lion, Ranckles seemed to have more sense than his owner and stopped quickly enough so as to avert a real disaster.

Looking down to see what it was he had run into, Black Lion was disconcerted to behold yet another female. Grimacing slightly, he rolled his eyes.