chains on the body of the dead sergeant.
Then they jumped on their ponies and galloped away, taking a course that swung many miles to the south and west of Fort Sedgewick.
CHAPTER XXX
An inch of early snow fell fortuitously on Ten Bears’s fleeing people, covering their tracks all the way to the winter camp.
Everyone made excellent time, and six days later the splinter groups had reunited on the bottom of the mammoth canyon that would be their home for several months.
The place was steeped in Comanche history and was aptly named The Great Spirit Steps Here. The canyon was miles long, a mile wide in most places, and some of its sheer walls ran half a mile from top to bottom. They had spent the winter here for as long as most people could remember, and it was a perfect spot, providing forage and plenty of water for the people and ponies and ample protection from the blizzards that raged overhead all winter. It was also far from the reach of their enemies.
Other bands passed the winter here, too, and there was great rejoicing as old friends and relatives saw each other again for the first time since spring.
Once they had reassembled, however, Ten Bears’s village settled in to wait, unable to rest easy until the fate of the rescue party was known.
At midmorning on the day after their return a scout thundered into camp with the news that the party was coming down the trail. He said that Dances With Wolves was with them.
Stands With A Fist sprinted up the trail ahead of everyone. She was crying as she ran, and when she caught sight of the horsemen, riding single file high on the trail above, she called his name.
She didn’t stop calling it until she had reached him.
The early snow was the prelude for a fearsome blizzard that struck that afternoon.
People stayed close to their lodges for the next two days.
Dances With Wolves and Stands With A Fist saw almost no one.
Kicking Bird did the best he could for Dances With Wolves’s face, taking down the swelling and trying to speed its recovery with healing herbs. There was nothing to be done with the fragile, shattered cheekbone, however, and it was left to mend on its own.
Dances With Wolves wasn’t concerned with his injury at all. A heavier matter was hard upon him, and in struggling with it, he was not inclined to see anyone.
He talked only to Stands With A Fist, but not much was said. Most of the time he lay in the lodge like a sick man. She lay with him, wondering what was wrong but waiting for him to tell her, as she knew he eventually would.
The blizzard had begun its third day when Dances With Wolves went for a long, solitary walk. When he returned he sat her down and told her of his irreversible decision.
She turned away from him then and sat for almost an hour, her head bowed in silent contemplation.
Finally she said, “This is the way it must be?” Her eyes were glistening with sadness.
Dances With Wolves was sad, too.
“Yes,” he said quietly.
She sighed mournfully, fighting back her tears.
“Then it will be.”
Dances With Wolves asked for a council. He wanted to speak with Ten Bears. He also asked for Kicking Bird, Wind In His Hair, Stone Calf, and anyone else Ten Bears thought should attend.
They met the next night. The blizzard was tailing off and everyone was in good spirits. They ate and smoked their way through a lively set of preliminaries, telling animated stories about the fight at the river and the rescue of Dances With Wolves.
He waited through all this with good humor. He was happy to be with his friends.
But when the conversation finally started to wane he took the first silence and filled it.
“I want to tell you what is on my mind,” he said, and the council officially began.
The men knew that something important was coming and they were at their most attentive. Ten Bears turned his best ear toward the speaker, not wanting to miss a single word.
“I have not been among you for very long, but I feel in my heart that it has been all my life. I’m proud to be a Comanche. I will always be proud to be a Comanche. I love the Comanche way and I love each of you as if we were of the same blood. In my heart and spirit I will always be with you. So you must know that it is hard for me to say that I must leave you.”
The lodge erupted with startled exclamations, each man furious with disbelief. Wind In His Hair jumped to his feet and stomped back and forth, waving his hands in scorn for this foolish idea.
Dances With Wolves sat still through the uproar.
He stared into the fire, his hands folded quietly in his lap.
Ten Bears held up a hand and told the men to stop talking. The lodge became silent again.
Wind In His Hair was still prowling about, however, and Ten Bears barked at him.
“Come and sit down, Wind In His Hair. Our brother is not finished.”
Grudgingly Wind In His Hair complied, and when he was seated, Dances With Wolves continued.
“Killing those soldiers at the river was a good thing. It made me free and my heart was filled with joy to see my brothers coming to help me.
“I did not mind killing those men at all. I was glad to do it.
“But you do not know the white mind as I do. The soldiers think I’m one of them who has gone bad. They think I have betrayed them. In their eyes I’m a traitor because I have chosen to live among you. I do not care if they are right or wrong, but I tell you truly that this is what they believe.
“White men will hunt a traitor long after they have given up on other men. To them a traitor is the worst thing a soldier can be. So they will hunt me until they find me. They will not give up.
“When they find me they will find you. They will want to hang me and they will want the same kind of punishment for you. Maybe they will punish you even if I’m gone. I don’t know.
“If it was just ourselves, I might stay, but it is more than just us men. It is your wives and your children and those of your friends. It is all the people who will be hurt.
“They cannot find me among you. That is all. That is why I must go. I have told Stands With A Fist about this and we will go together.”
No one stirred for many seconds. They all knew he was right, but no one knew what to say.
“Where will you go?” Kicking Bird finally asked.
“I don’t know. Far away. Far from this country.”
Again there was silence. It was at its most unbearable when Ten Bears coughed lightly.
“You have spoken well, Dances With Wolves. Your name will be alive in the hearts of our people for as long as there are Comanches. We will see that it is kept alive. When will you go?”
“When the snow breaks,” Dances With Wolves said softly.
“The snow will break tomorrow,” Ten Bears said. “We should go to sleep now.”
