ALL SCI-FI

[Bud Brewster]

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If you think THIS chapter is good, you should read the fourteen chapters that come before it — and the eight chapters yet to come!
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CHAPTER 15 ~ Learning the Cheyenne Ways

The blue sky was growing brighter with the coming dawn as E'Meho'koho and six other Cheyenne women carefully built the morning fire. E'Meho'koho's name meant She Loves the Rain, but this morning she was glad that the wide blue sky held a bright sunrise that was setting fire to the distant clouds. She knew the day would be warm and beautiful. She could feel it — a gladness in her heart that was like the approaching dawn.





As the dry wood began to fill the chilly morning air with smoke, E'Meho'koho looked over at the nearby tepee which held her family. She called out to her son in a loud voice.

"Wake up, you lazy boy! The sun is almost up – and you should be up, too."

Moments later, a young boy pushed back the buffalo-hide flap over the tepee's doorway and stepped out into the cool morning air. He rubbed his sleepy eyes and smiled at his mother as he raised his arms and stretched, yawning as he did so.

"Good morning, Mother," said Poke-Moh-kav, smiling as he looked up at the blue sky. "Heammawehio is kind today. This is the best day the Spirit Creator has ever made."

E'Meho'koho chuckled and said, "You say that every time the day is beautiful. Can they all be the best day?"

Poke-Moh-kav thought about the question for moment, then he smiled and said, "Why not? Anything is possible for the Spirit Creator."

"Perhaps you are right," said E'Meho'koho. "But now you better wake your father so that you two can bathe and help me get the water for our morning meal."

Poke-Moh-kav nodded and went back inside to rouse his father. E'Meho'koho picked up the water bladder (which was made from a buffalo's stomach) and joined the other women as they headed towards the nearby stream.

The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, and the sunlight sparkled on the clear water of the slow-moving stream that wandered through the lush, green valley. All along the flat, grass-covered valley on this side of the stream were hundreds of tepees, and E'Meho'koho saw dozens of other women strolling through the misty morning air, heading towards the stream as they joked and laughed with each other. It was a fine day, as Poke-Moh-kav had said, and E'Meho'koho felt glad to be alive.

In the still morning air, thin columns of smoke were rising from a dozen newly-started fires among the tepees. Dogs ran playfully among the people, and children chased them, squealing with delight when they got close enough to briefly pull the dogs' tails and then run from the barking animals.





At the edge of the steam E'Meho'koho joined the other women who lined the bank, kneeling as they dipped the brightly painted clay pots into the stream and then poured the clear, cold water into the narrow openings of the water bladders.

Twenty feet downstream from E'Meho'koho’s spot on the riverbank, a young girl was helping her mother by dipping a large pot into the stream while her mother held the water bladder. The pot was heavy, and the young girl was having trouble handling it. She leaned down towards the water and filled the big pot to the brim, but when she tried to lift it, the pot was more than she could handle. As she struggled to raise the huge pot, she tipped forward and fell head first into the shallow stream!

The women along the stream erupted into laughter as the girl leapt to her feet in the knee-deep water, squealing from the cold. Her mother pulled her out, scolding the young girl for bad judgment and ordering her back to the tepee for a change of clothes. Her teeth chattering, the girl hurried off while the women continued to laugh and joke about the incident.

And yet, despite the chilly water, one mother was giving her small child a quick bath as they sat on a rock near the riverbank.

The mother was warming the water with her hands before rubbing it on the toddler to clean its face, hands, and feet — making a game of it as she laughed and talked to the child while splashed him with water at unexpected moments. The child's eruption of spontaneous giggles filled the morning air and brought smiles to the faces of the on-lookers.





"Let me dip the pot, Mother," said Poke-Moh-kav as he joined her at the water's edge. "You hold the bladder."

The strong young Cheyenne boy had no trouble quickly filling the pot and pouring the water carefully into the narrow opening of the water bladder. After doing this several times, the water bladder was full. He laid the pot down and reached out to take the heavy, water-filled bag from his mother.

"No, no, no, you filthy boy!" his mother chided him. "I can carry that just fine without your help. You stay here and wash. Get yourself clean — before corn and squash start growing out of those dirty armpits!"

The women around them burst into laughter again, and Poke-Moh-kav's face turned red, but he obediently knelt at the water's edge to start his morning bath. E'Meho'koho headed back to the tepee, as did many of the other women, carrying their pots and the heavy water bladders.

Within minutes most of the women were leaving the banks of the stream, strolling back towards the tepees in clusters, laughing and talking noisily. Groups of men were now coming down to the stream for their morning bath. They too laughed and kidded each other as they reached the water's edge and knelt on the grass-cover bank of the stream to splash water over their bodies, hooting and whopping from the chill of the cold liquid.

In spite of the cold morning air, most of the men were only wearing loin clothes, and some of them sat on the bank with their feet in the water as the bathed.

A boy near Poke-Moh-kav turned towards him and started energetically kicking his feet, splashing Poke-Moh-kav with a fountain of white spray. Poke-Moh-kav quickly retaliated with handfuls of the cold water, and instantly a dozen other boys and their fathers joined the game. The morning sun was above the horizon now, and the cold droplets sparkled and gleamed in the air as the water battle went on for a full minute.

Finally the game ended and the laughing groups of men and young boys began to head back towards the tepees where they knew the morning meal would soon be ready for them.

Still dripping wet, many of the young boys began to shiver in the cool air, their lean, brown arms wrapped around their bodies, their chattering teeth making clicking sounds. The youngest ones huddled against their fathers' sides, hoping to gain some warmth.

Poke-Moh-kav was also beginning to shiver, but he suddenly thought of a good way to get warm. He startled the people around him when he let out a loud yell and dashed towards a nearby friend, tagging the boy on the shoulder as he passed by. The boy instantly took off after Poke-Moh-kav, grinning as he shouted a promise to tag him back. But he tagged the first boy he passed instead, and that boy took off running after a dozen others who laughed and fled from him.

The grown men just smiled and continued toward the tepees while their sons raced among them, tagging each other and fleeing with the boundless energy of youth.

The game of tag died away slowly as the boys turned their energies to an important daily chore: the rounding up of the horses. Sprinting away in all directions from the village, the boys headed off to find and bring back the animals that had been turned loose the evening before. During the spring and summer seasons, the horses were turned loose each evening to graze on the lush grass that covered the flat land around the village.

As soon as the first few boys reached a small group of the horses, they mounted them and galloped off towards the other groups that had wandered further from the village. The whole task was done in a matter of minutes, and soon all the boys were mounted on horseback and herding the horses towards the village, where they would be tied to hitching post to keep them close by.





Even the youngest boys helped out by taking charge of the first few horses that were rounded up by their older brothers, and then bringing them to hitching posts.





Among the tepees, the women were busy completing preparations for the morning meal. Freshly caught fish were roasting on sticks over the fires, and ears of corn were boiling in heat-blackened clay pots that sat in the fires. Bowls and woven baskets filled with fruit, vegetables, berries, nuts, and grain, along with strips of dried buffalo meat, lay about on woven mats near the fires.





All throughout the village the men, women and children were sitting down around the cooking fires, forming large circles so that the bowls of fruit, nuts, berries and buffalo meat could be passed around easily. The younger women hurried back and forth within the circle, serving their parents and brothers. There was much laughter and happy talk.

Outside the circles, the dogs prowled about in eager anticipation of scraps that would be tossed back to them by the children. Whenever a dog edged in too close to an adult, it would receive a sharp slap on the snout which sent the yelping dog scampering back to a safer distance.

Poke-Moh-kav sat between his two best friends, Hahkota (which meant Grasshopper) and E-meho'hotohkeo (which meant He Loves the Stars). They were involved in a friendly debate about which one of them was the best with a bow. They were trying to out-brag each other by making bigger and bigger claims about how far they could shoot and how well they could hit a target.

Poke-Moh-kav's father overheard the conversation as he sat on the other side of the fire. Hesta-Ho'esta' (which meant Heart of Fire) smiled as he listened to the boastful claims of the three boys, and finally he spoke to his son in a casual voice.

"I am glad to hear that you and your friends have become so skilled with the bow, my son. It is a very lucky father who has such a great hunter for a son."

"Thank you, Father!" Poke-Moh-kav grinned with pride at his father's words, sitting up straight and tall.

"We are all eager to see what you three great hunters will bring home for us to eat tonight," said Hesta-Ho'esta, speaking in a very matter-of-fact voice. "What do you think you might get, today? A few squirrels or rabbits? Perhaps a fine deer?"

The other people around the fire had begun to listen to the conversation, and they were grinning as the heard Hesta-Ho'esta tease Poke-Moh-kav and his two boastful friends.

"Ah-ha!" Hesta-Ho'esta suddenly said. "I have it! I know just what you should hunt today. A bear! Bear meat is just what you growing young warriors need."

The people around the fire burst into laughter, and the three boys sat looking down to hide their red faces. But young E-meho'hotohkeo's face showed a trace of anger at being taunted in front of the other people. He was a proud young man with a quick temper.

"I am not afraid to face the bear!" he said quickly. "Its meat would feed my whole family."

"Yes, it would," Hesta-Ho'esta said, nodding in agreement. "Or perhaps your meat would feed the bear's family."

Everyone laughed again, including Poke-Moh-kav and Hahkota. E-meho'hotohkeo glared angrily at the laughing faces around him. But Hahkota quickly threw one arm over his friend's shoulder, pulled him close, and shook him a few times in friendly way. E-eho'hotohkeo shot an angry look at his friend for a moment, but the big smile on Hahkota's face cooled his anger, and in a few moments he was laughing with the rest of the group.

As the group began to settle down, Poke-Moh-kav spoke to his father. "If we truly do bring back a bear, will you make each of us a new bow? We are getting stronger every day, and we are ready for more powerful weapons."

Hesta-Ho'esta nodded slowly as he heard the request. "Yes, you are becoming men, and your bows should be stronger. But you don't have to kill a bear to earn new bows. A fair-sized buck will do."

The faces of the three boys lit up with excitement at this promise, and they began to talk excitedly amongst themselves. After a moment, E-meho'hotohkeo turned to the adults around him and exclaimed, "We shall bring back the largest buck the tribe has ever seen! It will feed many families! Hesta-Ho'esta, will you help us decide how to divide it up fairly?"

"This boy is amazing!" exclaimed Hesta-Ho'esta. "He has not even shot this deer yet but he already wants me to help him divide it up!"

E-meho'hotohkeo's face turned red again, but he laughed with the others. Then the three boys began to quietly plan the day's hunting trip.

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Two hours later, the three Cheyenne youths were miles from the village, moving carefully through the dense forest along the edge of the Missouri River. The sun was well above the horizon, and the sky was now dotted with fleecy white clouds that cruised lazily over the land.

Poke-Moh-kav and his two friends were moving along slowly and silently through the thick brush, choosing each step carefully so their moccasin-shod feet would not land on dry leaves that would rustle, or fragile twigs that would snap. Each boy's eyes were bright and alert, scanning the forest ahead, watching for any sign of game. They held their bows in their left hands, with one arrow laid next to the bow where it could easily be grabbed and fitted to the string if a game animal was spotted.

E-meho'hotohkeo was thirty feet to Poke-Moh-kav's left, and Hahkota was thirty feet to his right as the three boys moved along slowly. The young Cheyenne hunters crept through the forest, frequently pausing to stand as motionless as statues while their eyes remained fixed on some movement they had spotted in the bushes ahead. Whenever they ducked beneath branches and eased themselves carefully through gaps in the bushes, they sometimes lost sight of each other for several seconds.

Each of the boys frequently glanced over at their two friends to see if they had spotted something and had signaled a halt by raising his right hand. This signal was always obeyed, no matter who gave it, because it meant that game had been spotted.

Twice during their slow advance, they had flushed out rabbits which had gone darting off through the brush, escaping too fast for the boys to hit with their arrows. But this had not discouraged the boys. They knew that hunting was as much a matter of patience and luck as it was of skillful shooting with a bow and arrow. Their slow and stealthy movements through the forest had been taught to these young hunters by their fathers. But these movements had also been learned by watching the bobcat and the wolf.

Of the three boys, Poke-Moh-kav was the best at stalking game in this silent manner. This was why he had been named after the gray bobcat.

As the young hunters came slowly and silently over a slight rise, they found themselves looking down a gentle slope that led to the edge of a babbling stream. And there, standing at the waters edge, was a young deer. The tawny brown animal was facing away from the hunters, its head lowered as it drank from the cool, clear water of the stream. Poke-Moh-kav could tell from the deer's antlers that it was buck, about three years old.

The noise of the gurgling water which spilled over the smooth rocks in the stream had covered any slight sounds the boys might have made as they approached. The air was completely still, so there was no breeze to carry the scent of danger to the unsuspecting animal.





Silently the three hunters positioned their arrows and took careful aim.

As the buck raised its head from the stream, three arrows found their marks at the same instant, and the startled buck leapt high in the air. But the arrows had been so perfectly placed that when the animal crashed down in the shallow stream near the bank, its legs were limp, and it collapsed into the water with a great splash — motionless and dead.

"Yeeeee-haaa!" shouted Poke-Moh-kav, and his two friends gave their own triumphant shouts as they raced down the bank. They tossed their bows to the ground and plunged into the shallow water. Laughing and talking excitedly, they grabbed the deer's antlers and began tugging it up onto the bank. Once they had their prize on dry land, they began walking around it, their chests puffed out with pride, their faces filled with wide smiles.

"It was my arrow that killed it," E-meho'hotohkeo stated with great certainty. "You can see that my arrow is closest to the heart."

Hahkota looked at his boastful friend in amazement and said, "You're arrow was not the one that killed it. Look for yourself – my arrow went in much deeper than yours!”

"So what?” E-meho'hotohkeo said angrily. “That doesn't matter. My arrow was better aimed than yours." He turned to Poke-Moh-kav. "Tell this young bragger that I'm right. My arrow was better aimed than his!"

Poke-Moh-kav was pretending not to listen to the debate while he gazed down at the deer, wearing a faint smile. In a voice of quiet confidence, Poke-Moh-kav slowly said, "Yes, your arrow was better aimed. But my arrow . . . struck first!"

The two boys began talking at the same time, arguing over whose arrow had killed the deer, but Poke-Moh-kav just laughed and refused to be drawn into the boastful debate. All that mattered to him was that they had succeeded in their hunt, and they would be bringing a fine deer back to the village to feed their families.

While his two friends continued to argue, Poke-Moh-kav began planning of the best way to get the dear back to the village. His father had taught him how to cut down a small sapling and tie a deer's legs to it. The three boys could take turns carrying each end of the sapling while the deer hung down from it.

Poke-Moh-kav glanced towards the trees that lined the stream. But what it saw at the top of the bank, just thirty feet away, caused the young Cheyenne to freeze in alarm.

Four men from the Crow tribe stood on the bank, looking down at the deer and the three hunters. Raiders from the Crow would sometimes attack small bands of Cheyenne hunters, taking their weapons and their game.

E-meho'hotohkeo and Hahkota stopped arguing when they suddenly noticed the four raiders. Both of them were instantly silent as they realized why these members of a rival tribe were here.

The four raiders were smiling, but Poke-Moh-kav knew that the smiles weren't friendly. They were smiling because they had Poke-Moh-kav and his two friends outnumbered, and because they held their bows loaded and ready – while Poke-Moh-kav's bow and the two others were lying on the ground, six feet away.

"What a fine deer," the tallest man said casually as he leaned against a large oak tree. "Thank you for killing it for us." His three friends chuckled quietly.

Hahkota's face instantly twisted with anger, his fist clenched at his side. "This is our kill, you vultures! Do you think we will just step aside and let a pack of rodents take what we — " He stopped abruptly as Poke-Moh-kav held up his right hand, the hunting signal which meant "halt and be silent".

Quietly and calmly, Poke-Moh-kav spoke to the raiders. "So, I guess the men of your tribe are such poor hunters that they must steal from others." Poke-Moh-kav shook his head with mock sympathy. "Perhaps if you came to our village and begged for food, my father would give you some. We feed our dogs very well."

The smiles were gone from the faces of the men as they received this stinging insult. One of the raiders raised his bow, aimed the arrow at Poke-Moh-kav, and began to draw back the arrow. But the tall leader of the group reached up and pushed the bow down. He gave his friend a hard look and shook his head, then he turned back to Poke-Moh-kav.

"What makes you so brave, young hunter? Surely you know that we're going to take that deer. If you force us to hurt you, that will be your fault. Not ours."

Poke-Moh-kav appeared calm, but the four raiders could see the muscles in his jaw flex with anger. Poke-Moh-kav spoke in a low, threatening voice when he answered.

"I could bare the pain of the wounds you might inflict much easier than I could bare the shame of letting you take our kill without a fight." Poke-Moh-kav turned his head slowly and glanced back at his two friends. Both of them stood tall, their muscles visibly tense, their faces showing anger rather than fear. Both the Cheyenne youths nodded to Poke-Moh-kav. They were ready. They would fight.

The leader of the raiders looked puzzled as he studied the three young warriors before him. He did not really want to kill these three brave boys. But the hunting had not gone well for him and his group that day, and he could not go back to his village and face his hungry family with empty hands.

"This is your last chance, boy," the leader said. "There are four of us — and only three of you." The man raised his weapon slowly, and the other three did the same.

Suddenly a strange voice called out from across the stream behind Poke-Moh-kav and his friends.

"Perhaps you should count again."

An arrow ripped through the air and buried itself into the large tree next to the leader, inches from his head. The four raiders froze in fear and looked across the stream to see who had come to the rescue of the three boys.

But there was no one there!

Poke-Moh-kav and his friends were just as baffled as their enemies as they whirled around and scanned the bushes across the stream for any sign of hidden allies. The bushes seemed too low and scraggly to hide anyone – but there was no other place for someone to hide.

The leader of the raiders tried to keep the fear from his voice as he called out to the hidden warrior. "All right, then! It is four-against-four. But only one of you is armed!"

"Wrong,", said the strange voice. "Count again."

Two arrows suddenly appeared from somewhere near the bushes, and they both socked firmly into the big tree next to the confused raiders.

Three of the raiders threw themselves to the ground, fearing that the next group of arrows would hit them instead of the tree. As they did so, one of them collided with the leader and knocked him to ground. His bow flew from his hand as he sprawled into the dirt.

Poke-Moh-kav moved like lightning! He dove forward, grabbed the bows of his two friends, and flung them in their direction. Then he rolled to one side and came up fast, holding his own bow in his left hand while he yanked an arrow from his quiver.

In seconds all three of the Cheyenne youths were crouched and ready, their arrows in place, their bow strings drawn back until their right hands were poised next to their cheeks.

The raiders lay on the ground, staring with wide and disbelieving eyes at the sight of their enemies standing just a few yards away, suddenly armed and ready to fight!

And then they saw something even more frightening. Across the stream, two more Cheyenne warriors seemed to appear out of thin air, standing in front of the bushes! They held their own bows drawn and ready, aimed at the helpless raiders. One of the two ghostly warriors had strange red hair and pale skin, like nothing the raiders had never seen before.

Poke-Moh-kav and his friends never took their eyes off the raiders as they stood with their drawn bows aimed directly at them. Poke-Moh-kav's teeth were clenched as he held his arrow ready. He spoke in a low and husky voice.

"Leave your weapons on the ground. They belong to us, now. Get up and run . . . before my arm gets tired, and I let go of this arrow."

The raiders frantically crawled backwards on their hands and knees until they were behind the large oak tree. Then they scrambled to their feet and took off among the trees at a dead run. They could be heard crashing through the bushes. A few moments later, the quiet of the forest was restored.

Poke-Moh-kav and his two friends turned and looked at their rescuers for the first time. Both E-meho'hotohkeo and Hahkota were baffled by the sudden appearance of these two strangers. But Poke-Moh-kav's face broke into a wide smile as he recognized his two friends.

"Sho-karee! Is it really you! And Nu-konee! I must be dreaming!"

Laura and Jon Max smiled warmly as they wadded across the stream and joined Poke-Moh-kav. They each hugged him briefly, then Poke-Moh-kav introduced them to his companions. They shook hands, and then Poke-Moh-kav studied his rescuers, still grinning from ear-to-ear.

"I don't know how you worked that bit of magic," said Poke-Moh kav, "but I'm certainly thankful for two things."

"Two things?" said Laura. “What two things?”

"First, that you showed up when you did . . . and second, that your shooting has improved since the archery contest!"

Poke-Moh kav Jon Max, and Laura all burst out laughing. But the other two boys did not get the joke at all.


NEXT: CHAPTER 16 ~ The Buffalo Hunt[/size]
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Is there no man on Earth who has the wisdom and innocence of a child?
~ The Space Children (1958)