Massacre of Eagles

Because of this natural enmity, the Crow had been allies with the U.S. Army during their fight with the Sioux.

Running Elk had been gone for four years, and when he first returned to his tribal home, he was treated as a stranger because of the ways and habits he had acquired while away. It took a while for the rest of the tribe to accept him, but Quiet Stream had greeted him warmly from the first day he was back. Quiet Stream was a young woman who had caught Running Elk’s eye even before he left for school. Now he was thinking about marrying her, but in order to do so, he would have to present gifts that would satisfy her father, Stone Eagle, and convince him that he was worthy of his daughter.

“Could it be that the others are right, and you have lost your Indian ways? Had you not gone to the white man’s school I would not have been able to sneak up on you.”

Turning toward the sound of the voice, Running Elk saw Quiet Stream, smiling at the trick she had just played on him.

“You did not sneak up on me. I heard you.”

“Oh? And has the white man also taught you to lie?”

Running Elk laughed. “You are right, I did not hear you. But that is because you cross the ground like a butterfly.”

“Ah ha, another lie you learned from the white man,” Quiet Stream said. “But this lie, I like.”

Running Elk saw Grey Antelope and Howling Wolf mount their horses as they left for their hunting trip. Quiet Stream read, in his eyes, his disappointment at not having been invited to go with them.

“You should have gone with them,” Quiet Stream said.

“No.”

“Do you not wish to hunt with Running Elk and Grey Antelope? I think you do. I think I can see this in your face.”

“They did not ask me.”

“Perhaps they did not know you wished to go. You should have asked them.”

“One should be invited, one should not ask,” Running Elk said.

“Have you not asked my father for me?” Quiet Stream asked. “Or has only White Bull asked?”

“White Bull has asked?” Running Elk replied, surprised by Quiet Stream’s announcement.

“Last night, he came to our tipi and asked my father if he could marry me.”

“What did Big Hand say?”

“He said another has asked, and that he must think on this.”

“What do you say?” Running Elk asked.

“It is you I prefer,” Quiet Stream said. She smiled. “And I will say this to my father. Do not worry, he will listen to me.”

White Bull and Running Elk were friends, and had been friends since both were young, but Running Elk had gone to the white man’s school and White Bull had not. It wasn’t a matter of Running Elk choosing to go; in fact, he had had no choice in the matter at all. He had been chosen by the Indian agent and told that he would go.

Since Running Elk had returned, the relationship between him and his old friend had changed. There was no animosity between them, but neither was there the closeness there once was. And now, with both young men interested in the same woman, the situation could only worsen.

Grand Central Terminal, New York

Buffalo Bill was in the main concourse surrounded by a dozen or more newspaper reporters and photographers. Falcon was several feet away, standing with Andrew and Rosanna, both of whom had come to see him off on his trip.

“I see that Mr. Cody is surrounded by his adoring press,” Andrew said.

Rosanna laughed. “My, brother, do I detect a twinge of jealousy?”

“Jealousy?”

“The press is around Mr. Cody, but not around you?”

“You know better than that, Rosanna. I abhor the press.”

“I know, dear. So I wouldn’t call attention to it if I were you. No doubt they would be over here as well, if they knew that you were here.”

“If they knew that we were here,” Andrew said, emphasizing the “we.” “For they would not come to see me, alone.”

“They are calling our train,” Falcon said.

Just inside the gate leading to track number thirty-one, a man appeared with a megaphone. Holding the megaphone to his mouth he called out loudly, his words clearly audible.

“Train for Philadelphia, Harrisburg, Cleveland, and Chicago, now boarding on track thirty-one! All passengers proceed to the train now!”

Rosanna hugged Falcon. “You are the only one in the family who ever comes to see us,” she said. “Is it any wonder that you are my favorite brother?”

“He’s your favorite brother?” Andrew said. “What about me?”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Andrew. Falcon is my brother, you are my twin. And you are my favorite twin.”