I Will Leave Your Bones Bleaching In the Sun

Sharing Cross, Oklahoma

1883

“C’mon, girls. Put some ginger in yer step,” Tram Polk says to his team of horses.

Tram scans the rocks above them as they enter a narrow gorge.

“Something troubling you, Tram?” Whitney Marsh asks.

“I was just thinkin’ this’d be the perfect spot to get dry gulched.”

“An ambush? There’re road agents this far out on the frontier?”

The grizzled driver pulls his shotgun closer. “Not bad men. Cheyenne.”

Witney takes off his specs, cleaning them on his shirt.

“I thought General Sheridan took care of the Indian problem four years ago.”

“Yeah, well, somebody forgot to tell Avenging Eagle.”

“Colorful name.”

“Yeah. And his favorite color is red. Same color as blood. He’s the devil hisself. Six and a half feet of mean. Rides a white pony and wears a war bonnet so big it hits the ground. He swears it protects him from bullets. He may be right. Troopers, settlers, and sharpshooters swear they’ve shot him. He can’t be kilt.”

Whitney’s eyes pop behind his specs. “You frontier folk are so quaint. Invincible? It’s an exaggeration.”

Tram pulls on the reins.

“That look like an exaggeration to you?”

A muscular Cheyenne warrior on a white horse blocks their path. He’s wearing a long, feathered war bonnet topped by a lone buffalo horn that resembles an eagle’s beak. A Spencer carbine hangs from his saddle, two revolvers and a knife are stuck in his belt, and a bow, already strung with an arrow, is in his left hand.

He has green eyes and blonde hair.

The warrior rides back and forth on his horse, taunting them.

“Lay down your arms and live. Fight, and we will leave your bones bleaching in the sun.”

Whitney laughs at his brashness.

“É-néhpe-nėhe-tse-hóne-hoʼtse!”

“What did he say?” Whitney asks.

“He said, ‘It’s time for you to die.’”

Tram looks up at the surrounding walls of rock. Dozens of Cheyenne warriors stand, training their weapons on the wagons trapped in the gorge.

Tram reaches for his shotgun. Avenging Eagle’s arrow hits him in the forehead.

Whitney dives inside the wagon with his wife, Marsha, and his six-year-old son, Isaac.

“Stay down and stay quiet.”

Marsha covers Isaac’s ears from the sound of gunfire and screams, repeating the Lord’s Prayer as the smell of the burning wagons and flesh fills the air.

The ensuing silence sets their nerves on edge.

Whitney peels back the wagon’s canvas. A carbine is pressed against his face.

His teeth clenched in bloodlust, a brave pushes Tram’s dead body aside, motioning for Whitney and his family to come out.

Dozens of Cheyenne warriors surround the wagon train. The other wagons are being picked clean or are burning to the ground.

Avenging Eagle approaches the Marshes, towering over them. Isaac looks up at Avenging Eagle’s warpaint and grim expression and bursts into tears.

“You will silence the little one, or we will.”

Isaac continues to wail, clutching at Marsha, who attempts to calm him by saying, “Be a good boy. This will all be over soon.”

The remaining bloodied and wounded would-be settlers are pushed into a crowd near the Marshes wagon.

A frowning, elderly Chief slowly rides up, muttering ominously in Cheyenne.

“What’s he saying?” a distraught woman in a bonnet asks.

“This is our land,” Avenging Eagle translates. “For the past twenty years, you and the bluecoats have made war against the Cheyenne and our brothers, the Arapaho, claiming we steal your livestock and destroy your trading posts. We foolishly made peace with you. Barely three months later, the bluecoats attacked the village of Lean Bear, one of the chiefs who had visited your leaders in Washington to make peace. They destroyed lodges, killed children and women, including Lean Bear, who was still wearing his peace medal given to him by your President. Soon after, you perpetrated the massacre at Sand Creek, killing nearly two hundred Cheyenne and Arapaho in Chief Black Kettle’s village.”

A dark-haired man wearing a worn army cap says, “Name’s Bo Bizbee. Formerly, Corporal Bizbee. I was there.”

Dark Star, a small, jittery warrior with a scar on his cheek, points his rifle at him.

Chief Red Moon raises his hand. “Speak.”

“It was a horrible scene, a frenzy of killing and mutilation. I wouldn’t let my Company fire or participate in the carnage. Soldiers took scalps and sacred objects. It was hard to see little children on their knees get their brains beat out by men professin’ to be civilized. I still see those tortured souls in my dreams.”

Chief Red Moon bows his head, speaking calmly and quietly.

“He says, you are an honest man, Bizbee. And because of that, he will allow you to live with your guilt.”

“Bad men! Bad men!” Isaac cries out loudly.

Avenging Eagle’s grim stare bores into Isaac.

“You are fortunate I am not old and weary of war like Red Moon. Otherwise, I would do to you what you did to Black Kettle’s people.”

The settlers mutter anxiously. Marsha speaks up. “Please, let us go in peace.”

“Sssh, hon,” Whitney says. “Let the men handle this.”

“Like you handled us into this trap? You tenderfoot. You’ve never understood the danger you put us in. These people are not the backward, inferior children you think they are. …Please let us leave… We promise to return to the east.”

“And what about the rest of your people? Can you swear there will be no more wagons? No more iron horses? No more cholera?”

Intrigued by her blonde hair and blue eyes, Avenging Eagle moves closer to Marsha.

Avenging Eagle abruptly tears Marsha away from Isaac, pulling her to his side.

Isaac wails, “Mama! Don’t leave me, Mama!”

Red Moon points at Isaac, covering his ears.

“Néóneóʼo!”

Dark Star steps forward.

“Néóneóʼo!”

Dark Star trains his rifle on Isaac, shooting him.

Whitney drops to his knees, sobbing.

Marsha knows that if she breaks down or shows fear, the Cheyenne will see her as weak and kill her and everyone else. She tells herself there will be time to mourn later.

The rest of the braves point their weapons at the settlers.

“Wait, don’t kill them!” Marsha shouts. “What if I were to go with you and be your woman?”

“Are you crazy?” Whitney shouts. “Our son is dead! I need you!”

Dark Star protests. “Do not take her. You can see the anger, the disrespect in her eyes. You will be bringing more of the white man’s poison into our village.”

“Silence, Dark Star. Or would you like a new scar?” Staring earnestly at Marsha, Avenging Eagle asks, “You would sacrifice your life for the freedom of others?”

“You can’t take her! She’s my wife!”

“She is my wife now.”

***

Marsha climbs down from Avenging Eagle’s pony.

“Remember what I have told you. The other women will be resentful. I cannot protect you at all times. Let that fire that lies inside of you out, and they will burn you with it.”

“So, you’re a wise man as well as a warrior.”

Avenging Eagle leads Marsha to his lodge. A small, dark-haired woman is sitting on a log, softening a hide with a stone.

“This is She Who Walks Alone. She is your kind and can teach you our ways.”

Walks Alone offers a smile, extending her hand.

“Used to be called Jeannie Cooper. But not anymore, eh?”

“…Marsha Marsh…Avenging Eagle has taken to calling me Golden Hair.”

“It fits.”

“How long have you been with the Cheyenne?”

“Four years. A raiding party attacked our house. They killed my husband and two boys. They were about to kill me when Avengin’ Eagle stopped them. At first, I wished he’d let them slit my throat. The Cheyenne women spat at me and beat me because I resisted. I’d advise you not to be so hard-headed.”

“Are you Avenging Eagle’s woman?”

“Yes. And so are you. It’s going to feel odd, but that’s the way of his people.”

Golden Hair looks at Stands Alone strangely. “Do you love him?”

“Yep. But not in the traditional way you and me were brought up to love a man. Avengin’ Eagle is a strong, crafty warrior, but he lacks some of the traits you find in white men. He’s passionate but lacks compassion. Compassion for your enemy is a sign of weakness…”

“And we’re the enemy.”

“Yep. The Cheyenne are at war with settlers, prospectors, and especially the army. This has been their land for hundreds of years, and they’ll fight to their last drop’a blood to keep it that way.”

“I don’t see any Cheyenne in Avenging Eagle,” Golden Hair says. “He looks like one of us.”

“He was. He came to the Cheyenne like us, the hard way. His family was kilt durin’ a raid. He was twelve and fought against three Cheyenne warriors. He kilt all three. His bravery saved his life. Chief Red Moon admired his courage and took him as his son.”

“If he’s one of us, he’ll listen to reason. Maybe he’ll let us go.”

Stands Alone huffs. “I begged, pleaded, and sulked for a year in the hope he’d ransom me or feel sorry for me and let me go. I finally accepted I’m his.”

“Well, I’m not giving up.”

“If that hope keeps you goin’, cherish it.”

“You’re coming with me when I leave.”

Stands Alone shakes her head vigorously. “No. I don’t have anythin’ or anybody to go back to. Avengin’ Eagle kilt my husband before my eyes.”

“…Murdering dog…”

“He gave Carter a chance to live. They tied Carter and Avengin’ Eagle together by the wrist and put a knife on the ground twixt the two of them. Carter wasn’t strong enough… But his death distracted the braves guardin’ my two boys, givin’ ‘em a chance to run away… A group of warriors on ponies ran ‘em to ground right quick. I heard their screams. Thank God, I didn’t see ‘em get scalped.”

“Sounds like the Cheyenne lack both compassion and conscience.”

“They’re in a fight for their way of life. My boys were little, seven and eight. They cried nonstop when they captured us. The Cheyenne seen ‘em as weak. I fought ‘em like a wildcat. I guess Avengin’ Eagle admired that, so he let me live. When he looked at me with those green eyes, I lost the will to fight.”

“I’ll admit I get the shivers when he looks at me,” Golden Hair says. “It’s like he’s casting a spell over me.”

“The Cheyenne call it ‘Maʼheóohoévešévešéne,’ the power of the divine.”

“He’s no god. He’s just a killer.”

“You’ll feel different when you’re alone with him.”

“I’ll tear his heart out if he tries to touch me,” Golden Hair says angrily.

“No. You’ll become his heart.”

***

Two years pass. One morning, watching Avenging Eagle praise a group of boys who returned with a deer, Golden Hair realizes that Stands Alone was right. She is proud to be a Cheyenne as well as Avenging Eagle’s woman.

Golden Hair enters their lodge. Stands alone is cleaning Avenging Eagle’s headdress.

“That doesn’t look bulletproof to me.”

“I think it works ‘cause he believes it,” Standing Alone replies. “Just as he believes he needs to avoid shakin’ hands or eatin’ anythin’ cooked in a metal pot or served with a fork.”

“I’m still baffled by Cheyenne superstitions.”

“I knew an Irishman who used to throw salt over his shoulder for good luck. The day he didn’t do it – boom - he dropped dead. Well, he was eighty-five.”

Avenging Eagle enters the lodge, his green eyes sparkling in admiration when he looks at the two women.

“Is that a smile I see?” Golden Hair asks playfully.

“I was thinking… If there is to be peace between us and the whites, it can start here with us.”

***

Red Moon and Avenging Eagle meet General Vian Cossack and Captain Clu Callahan on neutral ground in a field.

Avenging Eagle refuses to shake General Cossack’s hand.

“You asked for this pow wow. What do you want?” General Cossack says incredulously.

“We want to stop the violence between us,” Avenging Eagle replies.

“Says the savage who scalped three of my men last week.”

“And I will scalp three more this week if you continue to kill our women and children.”

“You let rabid dogs breed, and pretty soon everyone gets sick.”

Red Moon grunts, waving his hand dismissively.

“What did he say?”

Captain Callahan clears his throat. “Rough translation? He said you are a son of a…”

“I get it, Captain,” General Cossack says, pulling his uniform up around his sizable stomach. “You need to realize you’re a dying breed. This is pointless, Captain. Let’s get back to the fort.”

“Out of respect for Red Moon, I will let you live.”

General Cossack spits on the ground. “Respect? What does a turncoat like you know of respect?”

***

The following morning, General Cossack leads two hundred troopers to Red Moon’s village.

The village is deserted.

As they head across the same field where they met with Red Moon and Avenging Eagle, Captain Callahan’s ears perk up.

“Sir, I believe we’re under attack.”

General Cossack turns to see Avenging Eagle and three hundred screaming warriors charging them.

The soldiers retreat up a hill, hiding in the tall grass.

Avenging Eagle rides his pony back and forth in front of them.

“Come out, Cossack! Come face a dying breed!”

General Cossack takes a rifle from one of his soldiers. A crack shot, he fires at Avenging Eagle.

“Missed! KILL THAT BRUTE!”

The men open fire on Avenging Eagle. He continues to laugh at them as he rides off.

The warriors encircle the hill. Several braves charging up the hill are cut down, but the soldiers are soon overwhelmed, and the two forces find themselves fighting hand to hand.

General Cossack spies Red Moon and several elders watching the massacre near a tree below them.

“I won’t go quietly,” he says, drawing a bead on Red Moon.

Chief Red Moon falls from his horse.

General Cossack barely has time to smile before Avenging Eagle and his warriors cut down his remaining men and surround him.

Drawing his knife, Avenging Eagle barks at General Cossack like a rabid dog.

***

Sitting in the lead supply wagon, his expression behind his specs pinched into a determined grimace, Whitney clutches his shotgun, ready to deal death to any Cheyenne he encounters.

“Is it true you’ve been travelin’ back and forth across the plains for two years chasin’ your wife?” Sergeant Silas North asks.

“Yep. I’ve joined up with three wagon trains, four regiments, and countless scouts to search for Marsha. When I catch up with Avenging Eagle, I’m going to give him a taste of this,” he says, patting the shotgun.

Lieutenant Hall Hope rides up alongside the wagon. “Looks like you're finally going to get your wish, Mr. Marsh. Chief Red Moon and his men had a set-to near here with General Cossack last week.”

“…The late General Cossack,” Sergeant North notes.

“Yep, they were practically slaughtered to the last man,” Lieutenant Hope replies. “But they got that old renegade Red Moon. Avenging Eagle wisely moved his people after the fight. Our scouts spotted a village about eight miles ahead. It could be them.”

Whitney cradles his rifle.

***

Avenging Eagle’s face contorts into a frown as he drops his wooden plate.

His green eyes glower at Stands Alone.

“Did you tamper with my food?”

“No!”

“I prepared it. Is it not to your liking?” Golden Hair replies.

Avenging Eagle notices the knife in her hand.

“Did you use that to cook my food?”

“Yes.”

Stands Alone pants nervously. “Did you forget? His food can’t touch anythin’ made of metal.”

“You have done what my enemies have failed to do, Golden Hair. You have killed me…Bring

me my war bonnet, Stands Alone. I must perform a cleansing ritual before we go into battle.”

Dark Star approaches Avenging Eagle.

“We have sighted army supply wagons. We must strike before they join up with the bluecoats at the fort.”

“My meal was prepared with a metal knife. If I go into this fight, I will certainly be killed.”

“So, the great Avenging Eagle, our invincible, fearless leader, will sit safely by the fire like an old squaw while his warriors die for him.’’

He takes his war bonnet from Stands Alone.

“But you have to perform the ritual to try and protect yourself!”

“There is no time!” Dark Star insists.

Stands Alone wrings her hands. “No! Don’t go! Tell him, Golden Hair!”

“You are going to be a father.”

Avenging Eagle kisses both women on the forehead, mounting his horse.

***

The women and children watch the battle unfold beneath them from a nearby hill.

Avenging Eagle rides his pony around the circled army wagons, shouting, “Fight, or we will leave your bones bleaching in the sun!”

Whitney raises his rifle.

“We’ll see whose bones get burned by the sun.”

His shot misses.

Whitney fires at Avenging Eagle again as he passes by him.

He stiffens, falling from his horse.

The soldiers gasp. The Cheyenne hold their breath in disbelief.

“He’s not moving,” Sergeant North says to Whitney. “You done the impossible. You killed the warrior who can’t be killed.”

A pair of braves retrieve Avenging Eagle’s body, tying it to his horse.

Stands Alone sits down on a rock, weeping.

The Cheyenne turn away from the battlefield.

Golden Hair jumps on her pony, charging down the hill.

Whitney greets her with open arms.

“You’ve come back to me. Back to where you belong.”

Golden Hair dismounts. Giving Whitney a cool stare, she slaps him, knocking off his specs.

Climbing back on her horse, Golden Hair follows the Cheyenne, riding alongside Avenging Eagle’s body.