Wolf In The Heart

WOLF IN THE HEART.

   I have never encountered a white man during my many adventures upon these my beloved plains, and I have never once considered Wolf In The Heart as such. Too me he was always a true Human Being. When my eyes looked upon him as a man that is all that I saw. I think that the white spirit that once dwelt within him when he was a child had died long ago. The only other contact with the white man was through the stories that I had heard of him and his kin from the mouths of a few Pawnee women that I once took as captives. But they laughed too much like children, and my head ached because of their constant and senseless chatter, so I began to believe that they were touched in the head and bad spirits controlled their tongues. In time I came not to believe anything they told me. And so to save myself from a life of having to watch over them and feed these clucking females I quickly decided to exchange them for five good ponies. Two of which I then gave to my son Wolf In The Heart.
   He did not have the name Wolf In The Heart when I first encountered him. Long Grass was the name I first gave to him because that is where I found him as a child. He was wandering aimlessly around naked and alone beneath the heat of the midday sun. When I first approached him astride my pony he looked up at me with eyes that penetrated deep into my soul. Even then I could sense the power of his medicine. I spoke gentle words to him, which I knew in my heart he would not understand. Or so I thought; yet when I turned away he followed. He did not utter one word or sound throughout that long journey back to my village. That night as I made camp I give him food and water and he wolfed it down like the hungry cub he was. In the mornings, after we had eaten and before we started the journey again, I would show him how to rub mud all over his exposed skin so that my brother, the Sun, would not roast him alive during the long hot days. When I saw that he was tired from all the walking I would place him upon the back of my pony. It pleased my heart to see that he could fall asleep and still be able to remain upon the back of the pony without falling down as only a true Human Being can.
   When we at last arrived back within the village of my people they all assembled outside their lodges to see this naked little white man. I placed him upon the ground and said. ‘Behold this child, for I have given him the name Long Grass!’ Some people thought this was funny, seeing how short he stood, and they started to laugh. So I spoke again. ‘Let it be known that he is now my son. Anyone who would laugh at my son Long Grass laughs at me!’
   The people stopped laughing because they knew that my words were true. And as I turned to walk across to my tipi I felt a little hand slip into mine. It was the first contact of this kind between us and I cannot tell you how my heart soared. I looked down at his upturned face and for the first time a smile spread across his lips. That night as the child lay asleep beneath the warmth and comfort of a buffalo robe, next to my wife who had rejoiced at his arrival, I crept silently outside into the cold night air.
   I moved away from the village and sought a quiet place so that I would not be disturbed. It was time to give thanks to the Great Spirit for sending me this child. In the light of a full moon I first offered up prayers to the four sacred directions. I then thanked the Great Spirit for blessing me thus and swore that I would protect this most special gift with every breath in my body. I also made the promise that I would see to it that he was brought up as a true Human Being. Thus ensuring that he would be taught to follow the sacred paths throughout the rest of his life. After having made my pledges I then made my way back to the lodge and took my place once more beside the warm naked body of my wife. In the morning when I awoke I found the child nestled tightly between us his small face lying next to hers. My wife had tears of joy in her eyes as she softly kissed his sleeping face. I am a man and do not indulge in such sentimentalities but I can tell you, my heart soared as high as the sky that morning.

    In time Long Grass began to understand the language of the Oglala Lakota people with whom he now lived. I watched proudly as he played with other children of the village. Soon it became known to young and old alike that he was the boldest and bravest of all the village children.
   This was shown all too clearly when one day a dog from our village suddenly, and without warning, attacked one of the children. As the dog held the screaming boy tightly within its jaws, shaking him like a doll and the other children ran away screaming, Long Grass calmly walked across and killed the beast with a single blow from his knife. He then circled the body of the dog, as a wolf would its kill, making sure that the animal was dead. Then he carried the torn and bleeding child to the lodge of his parents, who knew nothing of their child’s plight. Embarrassed by their gestures of gratitude Long Grass made his excuses and left.
   Then he dragged the body of the dog across to our tipi. He asked his mother to cook the dog so that the injured boy might eat the meat. He wanted the injured child to be able to take possession of the powerful medicine and spirit of the dead animal so that the child would never be afraid of dogs again. When the meat was cooked Long Grass carried a large bowl across to the lodge where the child lay and presented it to him. From that day on the two boys became inseparable. Two Dogs, as that child came to be called, was the most trusted and loyal friend Wolf In The Heart ever had. They grew close and became as brothers.

    As they grew they began sneaking away from the village to go hunting. And whatever they brought back they would give away to the poor and needy of the village. This they continued to do throughout their lives. They were well known for their generosity. Old women whose husbands had died, and who had no-one else to provide for them, called them ‘my son’ when addressing them, and they in turn called these women ‘mother.’ It made me very proud to hear all the good things that were being said around the campfire when men spoke of their deeds.
   And so in time I was again blessed with more children. It soon became apparent why the Great Spirit had sent us Long Grass. And why in turn he had given him a brother in Two Dogs. For the Great Spirit knew my wife and I would sow nothing but the seeds for having daughters. In this we did not mind. For each one brought us such great joy.
   I was surprised to see the care and love which Long Grass displayed towards his sisters. And when my daughters each grew big enough to move around the village on their own Long Grass and Two Dogs were always ready to have fun with them the moment they saw them. The air around our tipi was always filled with the sound of their laughter. And when I had five women in my lodge, one wife, and four daughters, they would all make such a great show of excitement whenever Long Grass and Two Dogs came to visit.
   I am a man, a warrior, an Oglala Lakota and therefore do not allow myself to feel the emotions of being jealous. I knew the power of their love for these two fine warriors, for I am not ashamed to say that the same love beat within my own breast, and it made me happy to see it displayed in this way.
   In time Long Grass married Morning Rain and Two Dogs married her younger sister Rabbit. It was a fine match for both and my wife and daughters took great joy in the occasion. And when the young warriors of the village began casting their eyes towards my four beautiful daughters they also found themselves having to face up to unexpected forces. It was now the turn of Long Grass and Two Dogs to approve the suitors. My wife Snowflake and I allowed ourselves to take great pleasure from this episode in our lives. We knew that when the time came, and a warrior sought our approval to take one of our daughters, it would mean that he had passed the tests and had therefore gained the consent of both Long Grass and Two Dogs.
   As a hunter and gatherer Long Grass had no equal. Before the buffalo hunt even began Long Grass was often chosen by the medicine men to lead out the procession of hunters. It seemed he could sense or smell just where the buffalo herds were grazing. And when he set out he reminded me of the leader of a wolf pack stealthily taking the pack out to hunt. His arrows were often the first to strike when bringing down these mighty and noble beasts. The women of my lodge, along with Morning Rain, would give away much meat and hides to those less fortunate than ourselves because Long Grass had once again provided more than enough for us all.
   In the festival that followed to celebrate the success of hunt the women who had been a recipient of the meat that he had given away would come bearing small gifts and place them before him. He knew that they did not have much, and although embarrassed by their generosity, he humbly thanked them for such fine presents. My heart was happy to see such a wonderful sight.
   The dresses that both his mother and sisters, and also his wife, wore were made from the finest and the softest of deerskins. Our own garments were also of the finest quality. Our moccasins showed the finest beadwork ever seen. Each bead sown with a full and loving heart. When we dressed in our finest clothing, the women with beadwork woven into their long dark hair, a form of decoration my wife liked to wear all the time, would drew gasps of admiration from all those who saw us. We were truly rich in the warmth and happiness that is family.

    One night as I sat within the warmth of my lodge, within the confines of our winter camp, I heard a scratching at the entrance of my tipi. I looked across at my wife; she shrugged as if to say she did not know who this might be, so I called out for them to enter. I smiled when I saw Long Grass climb inside. He kissed his mother and his two youngest sisters, Sweet Grass and Morning Sun the two who had not yet married, and then he came and sat down opposite me.
   “I have come to tell you that you now have a new name.” He smiled across at me.
   I was puzzled by his remark. I liked my old name ‘Sharp Knife’ and wished it to remain. “Why do I need a new name?” I asked my son.
   “Because your new grandson will now call you Grandfather! That will be your new name when he learns the words of the people.” The smile that grew upon his face mirrored my own.
   As the lodge exploded into a series of shrieks and tears of happiness as the three women threw themselves upon him I quietly slipped out of the tipi. I moved beyond the enclosure of the winter camp and when I was alone I offered up a prayer to the four directions. Then I gave special thanks to the Great Spirit for once again blessing me in life. I thanked him for my son and my grandson. I thanked him for allowing me to see such a fine day as this. I pledged that I would help bring this new child up in the way of the Human Beings as I had done with the first child that he had sent me. I would show him too the sacred paths. Together, Long Grass and I would ensure that nothing came to harm the child whom the Great Spirit had now placed in our care.

    In the Name Giving ceremony that shortly followed Long Grass carried the little bundle in his arms as he whispered the chosen name to the medicine man that was performing the ritual. Then as we all assembled around him the medicine man began to speak.
   “In the name giving ceremony we all gather together to hear for the first time the name that a father chooses for his son. For the first born it is therefore important that the correct name be chosen. It should be a beautiful name. Long Grass has considered long and hard and has now come up with such a name. It is a name that holds a special meaning for both Long Grass and the child that now waits to hear his name for the first time. In honor of the child’s Grandfather, Sharp Knife, Long Grass has chosen to call his son…Small Knife.”
   I do not know whether it was the cold wind or the smoke from the fire but my eyes were suddenly blurred. I felt the wetness upon my cheek and quickly brushed it away before it could be seen. I now knew what it feels like to be a golden eagle soaring high in the skies high above the earth. My head, my body, my legs were floating high above the ground. Only once before had I felt this way. It had occurred on the morning after I had brought a little naked white boy into my lodge and saw him laying, nestled in the comfort and love of his mother’s arms.
   Now Long Grass came across and placed my sleeping grandchild into my arms. All eyes were upon me as I leaned forward and whispered into the child’s ear.
   “You are Small Knife son of Long Grass and beloved grandson of Sharp Knife. The Great Spirit has blessed us all by making you an Oglala Lakota.” This I said so that the child would never forget who or what he was. His father, Long Grass should have been the first to tell him this, but he had allowed that most sacred of honors to fall to me.

    When the snow began to melt we at once headed across the plains to the place where we camped during the long hot days of the summer sun. But it was not long after we had arrived there when we were attacked by our old enemy the Crow. Their raiding party was large and took us by surprise. We had not expected to be attacked so soon after returning from winter camp. In the darkness of the early morning they came. Like the lowly snakes they were they wriggled across the ground, killing the first two sentries without a sound. It was only the alertness of one of the village dogs that finally brought our attention to their presence amongst us.
   Warriors ran naked from their lodges and engaged the enemy who were now all around us. I myself scrambled out from my tipi, tomahawk and knife firmly clenched in my hands as I moved to do battle with an onrushing Crow who was screaming like the woman that he was. I stepped aside as he thrust his lance towards me; I felt the pain as the point pierced the skin on my left thigh, but still I brought my knife up and thrust it deep into his chest. I saw his eyes widen and the sound of life freeze upon his lips. As I pushed the blade in even deeper I saw his spirit escape from the jagged wound in his chest. The last of the snow upon the ground beneath us turned red with his blood.
   I pushed him away and he fell to the ground dead. Around me I saw other warriors engaged in fierce hand to hand fighting as we struggled to hold back their attack. I moved on to my next encounter with one of these lowly dogs. I next sank my tomahawk deep into the chest of a Crow who was trying to drag one of the young women from out of her tipi. He fell without a sound and before he had even touched the ground the women of that tipi had their knives out ready to mutilate his body.
   I crossed the circle of the village to where I knew the lodge of Long Grass stood. Around it I saw several Crow sprawled upon the ground and my heart soared at the sight of so many dead. I moved closer and could see my son doing battle with two others. I quickened my pace and shortly covered the ground to where they were locked in battle. Without pause I raised my tomahawk and brought it crashing down upon one of their heads. To my surprise he did not fall! Instead he turned to face me. Blood was pouring from the deep wound that I had made. His face was a mask of red blood. Before I could react further he swung his war club and smashed it into my side. I heard the bone shatter as the pain exploded inside my chest and fought its way up and out of my mouth filling the cold morning air with my cry! I dropped to my knees and saw him raise the club again.
   I knew that at any moment he would bring the club crashing down upon my head. I waited expecting death to come and take me. But to my surprise the blow did not come. When I looked up again I saw the Crow standing before me, arms now dangling down at his side, as Long Grass finished cutting his throat with the knife I had made for him when he was a child. The same knife he had used to kill the dog so long ago. My son had saved me from certain death.
   He then came to me and taking me carefully into his arms carried me into his lodge. He placed me gently down upon some buffalo robes. Although I was in great pain from the wound in my side I could see that the tipi was empty. I reached up and took hold of my son’s arm.
   “Where are Morning Rain and Small Knife?”
   I saw the look of fear in his eyes. His reaction to my question was instant. He fled from the tipi leaving me there alone until such time as the medicine men would come and tend my wounds. I lay there listening to the noises outside. I do not know how long the battle raged but in time all became quiet. I dragged myself across to the entrance of the tipi and poked my head outside. There were many dead on both sides, their bodies scattered around the village. Young warriors roamed the village and were now moving amongst the bodies, carrying off our wounded and cutting the throats of any Crow that were found to be still alive. I called out and two young men came and carried me across to my own lodge.
   My heart felt heavy when I saw Snowflake lying upon the ground outside the entrance. I asked to be placed next to her so they lowered me to the ground. I gently brushed the hair, which in parts was bloodied from having been scalped, from her face and kissed her mouth. She was dead but I did not want her spirit to leave without a final kiss goodbye. I then began to sing a death song. As I sang, my four daughters, all safe and well came running across to where their mother lay. The sound of their broken hearts could now be heard all over the village.

    I later learned that my wife had been killed protecting our two youngest daughters from being captured by the Crow and carried away. She had fought and died so that they could get away to the safety of their sisters’ lodges. I watched broken hearted as her four tearful daughters then tenderly carried their mother away so they could begin the preparations for sending her on the journey to the Hoop of the People.
   Word soon reached me, as I lay within the tipi of the medicine men along with several other wounded men, that both Long Grass and Two Dogs had gone after the raiding party of Crows. For they had carried away with them both Morning Rain and Small Knife. My heart, still being heavy with the loss of my own wife, almost broke inside my chest on hearing this news.
   For days I lay with sweat seeping from every part of my body. My mind was a constant feeding ground for all the bad dreams and visions that one does not want to see or hear at such times as these. I saw the laughing face of the Crow I had hit with my tomahawk as he taunted me from the next world. I heard the voices of both Morning Rain and Small Knife, calling for me to go and help them, but when I tried to stand my feet could not hold me. I felt useless.
   Then one night I saw a vision that pleased my heart. I saw Long Grass standing in the glow of the fire holding his child up for me to see. I reached up and touched the child’s arm to make sure I was not dreaming. I touched the flesh and realized that the vision I was seeing was true. Long Grass placed the child beside me and I kissed his upturned face.
   “You have made me very happy.” I told Long Grass. “It is good to see my grandchild back within the safety of his people. Let me see Morning Rain so that I may rest in peace knowing that she is also safely back within the heart of her family once more.” When he then spoke I could hear the sound of his inner sadness.
   “Morning Rain has taken the journey to the Hoop of the People. She died protecting our son.”
   This time I did not care who saw my tears. I cried for the loss of a daughter, the loss of a wife, and the safe return of a grandchild. My heart was also heavy to see the sadness burning in my son’s eyes. Until this time they had known nothing but happiness and laughter.

    We buried both Snowflake and Morning Rain next to each other. My son and I tore our clothing and cut our hair as the sign of mourning. Tall Woman and Yellow Blanket along with my two youngest daughters cared for both Small Knife and myself when I was well enough to return to my lodge.
   In the moons that followed a change came over Long Grass. He no longer laughed as he had once done. Two Dogs remained his constant companion and together they engaged in many raiding parties against the Crow. Soon they were both decorated with the many scalps and feathers that proclaimed them both to be great warriors.
   The stories of their daring raids soon passed into legend even amongst their enemies as well as their own people! So fearful did the Crow’s become of these two fine Oglala warriors that they would scatter in all directions as soon as word reached them that Long Grass and Two Dogs were close by. One day as I sat down outside my lodge watching Small Knife playing I saw ponies approaching the village. When I looked up I saw a group of fine warriors painted for war.
   This was the beginning of a new warrior society, and at first I did not recognize my own son Long Grass as being one of them. For upon their heads and across their shoulders each warrior wore the skull and hide of a wolf. The upper portion of their faces was also painted black and the lower half red. I could see why our enemies ran scared of them because they looked magnificent. This was the Wolf Society.
   Long Grass came and sat down before me as Two Dogs stood back and held their ponies. The others sat on their horses waiting. I looked into my son’s eyes and saw the sadness still living within them. Small Knife came across and stared at his father before he turned and walked across to where Two Dogs held the ponies. The child then asked Sweet Grass, who was cooking outside, to lift him up onto the animals back. She complied with his wish and the sound of laughter as the child enjoyed the moment disturbed the silence for a brief moment or two.
   “This reminds me of a time long ago when my eyes saw another child, as young as he, sitting upon the back of a pony.” I did not look at my son as I spoke but instead I focused my eyes upon my grandson. “I knew then in my heart that he would grow to become a great son and in time a great warrior.”
   “I have something for you.” Long Grass said as he held something before my eyes. I looked and recognized the hair immediately by the intricate beadwork still decorating it. It was the scalp of Snowflake. With a slightly shaking hand I took this from him. He watched me and then said. “This is the scalp of the dog I took it from.” He held up a scalp that still had fresh blood upon it.
   “Thank you for returning what was once mine.” I said as Long Grass then threw the Crow scalp away from him as if it were a piece of dog shit! He went to get up but I held up my hand and he settled again. “We do not speak of the dead because that is the way of the people but I will say this. I thank you for avenging your mother’s death and for returning her hair to me. It would make her heart soar to know that you have done this. I am also proud of your actions. You have become a fine and noble warrior. When I first saw you as a young child I knew that the Great Spirit had sent you for me to find. It was one of the happiest days of my life. I named you Long Grass because that is where I found you. But in recent times you have shown me by your actions that you have no further use for that name. You have earned the right to have a warrior’s name. I have always thought that the spirit of the wolf dwelt deep within you. So from this day on I will call you Wolf In The Heart. Let it be known that I have spoken and let the people know that I have a son called Wolf In The Heart. My our enemies always live in fear each time they hear the cry of the wolf.”
   As he sat watching me I then began the task of building a small fire. Wolf In The Heart knew the ceremony that I was about to perform. When the fire was burning brightly I held over it the scalp of Snowflake and we both whispered a prayer before I dropped her hair into the flames. Together, our prayers and her scalp would now be carried upon the smoke, rising high into the clear blue skies overhead, up into the sacred Hoop of the People where once more they would be reunited with our loved one.
   After the ceremony was over I watched Wolf In The Heart ride away on another raiding party. The hatred and sadness that burned deep within him for the loss of the two women whom he loved, and the call to revenge their deaths, had become one of the driving force of his life now. It seemed he would not settle until he had killed every dog born a Crow whom he encountered.

    Soon many different stories of his adventures and battles were being spoken of around the village. Although he would spend much time away from the village when he returned he spent a lot of his time with his young son Small Knife. I noticed the special bond that was developing between father and son. In many ways it was similar to the one that still existed between Wolf In The Heart and I. My heart soared high in the sky to see my grandchild laughing in his father’s arms. Even his sisters enjoyed once more the attention that he had always showered upon them. He continued to provide everything that we could possible want, and we thanked him for his generosity of spirit by providing comfort to his son when such times took Wolf In The Heart away from us.
   In time our enemies decided to band together, against his continued and murderous onslaughts. They allied together into one large war party, and in so doing set a trap for Wolf In The Heart and his Wolf Society. After the trap had been sprung and the fighting had finished those who had escaped the deadly battle watched helplessly as both Wolf In The Heart and his brother Two Dogs bodies were then cut to pieces. The Crow’s actions had nothing to do with pure savagery; they did it in order to scatter their bones far and wide across the plains so that they would never become one body again, because even in death they feared them. They hoped that by doing this the spirits of both Wolf In The Heart and Two Dogs would not be able to rise up into Hoop of the People and therefore become born again.
   At first I could not be told that my most beloved son was no more. I would not believe that a band of mangy dogs had killed such a fine warrior. But then a member of the band who had seen my son killed placed before me the decorated armlet that had once adorned his body. I recognised it at once for his mother’s loving hands had made it. I knew in my heart then that he would not have discarded it for another to find. It meant too much to him to lose it so easily.
   And so I became father to Small Knife and took on gladly all the responsibilities that that entailed. I think having him around lessened the burden and sadness that we all felt for the loss of his father and mother. In one respect Small Knife was lucky because he had four women, and one old man, who loved him above all else.
   I would take him out across the plains and show to him this beautiful land. Together we ventured far and wide and soon he knew all the paths, all the sacred sights, and the many rivers where he could quench his thirst. At night we would sit beneath the stars and gaze upon them with wonder. Small Knife asked so many questions that it was difficult for me to answer them all, but I tried. The only time I ever saw him afraid, when still a child, was the night we saw the shooting star flying across the sky. It glowed like the sun and I could sense the fear that this conjured up in the mind of the child beside me.
   “There is no need to be afraid.” I told him gently.
   “But what is the fire that burns so brightly grandfather?” He asked.
   “It is a sign from the Great Spirit.”
   “What does the sign say grandfather?”
   “He is telling you that the spirit of your people is like the fire in the sky. You began as nothing, not seen by anyone, until such time as you are born. Then for the period of the time that you spend on this earth you are like the light that burns brightly within the blackness of the night sky. And then at the end of your journey, with all your power spent, after you have completed your journey you will also fade and die.”
   “And will my light be seen by others grandfather?”
   “Oh yes my son. Already your light has dazzled these old eyes of mine. The light that burns inside of you burns more brightly than you will ever know. Only once before have I seen such light.”
   He fell silent then and I knew that in his young mind he tried to picture the image of a light that had been extinguished many moons before. I placed my arm around his shoulders and then on the crest of the wind that gently blew I thought I heard the cry of a Grey Wolf. I knew that he would come. It pleased my heart to think that he had not forgotten us.

    When Small Knife became a man I decided that he needed a name that would honor the memory of his father of whom we often told him stories. I therefore decided that I would call him White Cloud. White in recognition of the colour of his father’s birth and cloud because that is the place where his father now dwelt within the Hoop of the People.
   “I have kept something for you which once belonged to your father.” I told White Cloud on the eve of his first buffalo hunt. Reaching into my parfletch I pulled the armlet out and carefully placed it upon my Grandson arm. “Wear it well my child.”
   “I will Grandfather.” He said. And as he turned to go I could see that tears were stinging his eyes for he had recognised it instantly.
   Sometimes when we sit together around the lodge fire at night and I looked upon the face of my beloved grandson I can not help but notice that he looks the same man that his father had once been. It fills my heart with joy to hear the sound of his laughter as he plays with my other grandchildren who have come to love him just as dearly as I love him.
   I hear stories now of a few white men who have been found wandering across these lands that I love. I wonder whether they have come to look for a white child that was lost so long ago? If they have come to look for him then they will be disappointed because they will not find him here. That white child perished so that a new child could take his place. A child that grew to be an Oglala Lakota warrior and a true Human Being. A child that when grown to be a man revenged the death of his mother. A child who’s name still sends a shiver of fear into the hearts of his enemies. A child that gave to me his most precious gift in the entire world, his own son. I will say this but once, Wolf In The Heart was not a white man, he was my son.

THE END.