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But the terrible trip was almost over now for everyone else. A new beginning awaited them all!
To Jessie, this land was almost jarring in its loveliness. So much about South Dakota was breathtaking. Even now as they rode beside a river, it seemed to lead into a fairyland of rainbow mesas and flaming buttes.
The banks of the river were thick with blackberry and wild rose bushes. Jessie had learned along the way that the berries growing in sunny places were the sweetest.
Western trillium bloomed pretty and white in the red duff of the pine needles. At Jessie’s left side, climbing slopes of evergreens struggled over fallen timber.
Suddenly the damp air rang out with the song of a cedar waxwing, its beating wings thrumming as it was frightened by the approaching procession of people.
A female pileated woodpecker landed on a sunlit branch not far away, while a colorful male landed beside her.
“We are almost there,” Thunder Horse said, smiling at Jessie. Then he gestured with a wave of a hand toward the distant mountains. “Mountains are important to the Sioux. They are mysterious and powerful. The ‘Old Ones’ said that we Sioux came up out of the earth through a hole in the ground at the base of a special mountain, one which is distant from our people now.”
He paused, then said, “But look around you, Jessie. See the wonders of South Dakota, the tall, white bluffs and the stunted pines. Even the rough terrain, partly covered with buffalo grass, is welcomed by this chief. Finally my people will be together again as one group. It has been too long since we joined together around the night fire to listen to stories and to share our love for one another.”
Jessie nodded and again looked around herself. All was peaceful and quiet.
Here and there were little meadows, looking fresh and green after being covered with snow all last winter. The leaves of the cottonwood and willow trees glistened
with every little breeze.
“Yes, it does seem a paradise,” Jessie said, smiling at Thunder Horse. “We will be happy here, Thunder Horse. All of us will be happy.”
“Reservation life has been forced upon us, so we must make of it what we can,” Thunder Horse said thickly. “And after seeing the land that has been assigned us, I see now how it will work for us.”
He did not tell her that he still did not trust the word of the White Chief in Washington, even though Thunder Horse’s father had been impressed by his kindness and the sincere, polite, and respectful way he had talked with him.
Thunder Horse’s father had said that it seemed as though he was in council with another Sioux, having a friendly parley. He had left Washington with much hope for his people, although he had been told that he had no choice but to take his people onto the reservation.
Still, the White Chief had promised White Horse that life would remain the same for his people. They would still enjoy the hunt without the accompaniment of white soldiers.
“I will hope that my father was not tricked by a man who spoke with a forked tongue,” Thunder Horse said wearily. “Jessie, if that were true, I am not certain what I would do. I would feel that my father had let my people down by being tricked by the White Chief. And perhaps I, too, let them down by listening to my father, who I always felt was astute enough to know when he was being lied to.”
“It will be alright,” Jessie said, edging her horse closer to his. She reached a gentle hand to his arm. “My beloved, you will see that things will work out. Please don’t think anything negative at this time, or become doubtful of what lies ahead. Feeling positive is the only way this will work, darling. Please feel positive, for me . . . and for your people.”
She slid her hand across his arm. “But most of all, Thunder Horse, feel positive for yourself,” she murmured.
He nodded and smiled at her. “You are a wise woman,” he said. “You should be a woman chief.”
Jessie threw her head back in a soft laugh, then smiled again at him. “You have a way with words,” she murmured. “A woman chief? Thunder Horse, you are the only chief I want in our family.”
“Family,” he said, covering her hand with his.
He gazed at her belly, which was as round as a ball with the child that grew in her womb.
Then he gazed intently into her eyes. “As soon as we see that my people—our people—are settled into their newly built lodges, we will have our marriage ceremony,” he said. “It will be a time for celebration, my love. We will become as one, you and I.”
He chuckled as he looked at her belly, then into her eyes. “You and I and the child will become as one,” he corrected himself.
Then he gazed over at Lone Wing, who rode tall in his saddle with Lee-Lee still behind him on his horse. Now that Lone Wing was his people’s Historian, he had been told that he had earned the right to ride a horse instead of a pony.
“One day there will also be a wedding between those two who are so in love,” Thunder Horse said. “It will be a day of celebration when the band Historian takes a wife whom he obviously loves with all his heart.”
“The age difference between them seems not to matter,” Jessie said. “Although she is older, she is still a child compared to the adult that Lone Wing has become.”
“Ho, Lone Wing has matured right before our very eyes after having so many responsibilities placed upon his shoulders when the Old One died,” Thunder Horse said, smiling with pride for his nephew.
“I am anxious to see his first records of the Fox band’s history,” Jessie said.
