When the tree flowered

by John G. Neihardt

“I was young then,” Eagle Voice continued after we had sat silent for a while, hearing the high wind and the whipping of the canvas on the poles. “I was young and strong, and I could still believe that sometime we would drive all the Wasichus out of our country. But now, when I can look back and see how it was going to be, it makes me sad to remember the fight on the Greasy Grass. It was a few days after we fought the Gray Fox on the Rosebud, and it was a great victory. But you see us now.

“Our whole camp had moved over into the valley of the Greasy Grass near the mouth of Spring Creek. High Horse and I were with a small party scouting and hunting over towards where the Gray Fox went after the fight. We did not see any soldiers, and the hunting was not good. It was late in the morning when we got home to the village on the Greasy Grass. The hoops of the bands were strung out a long way on the flat beside the river; and across the water, towards where the sun comes up, there are high bluffs. It was an old camping place and we liked to be there. Plenty of good water, plenty of good grass for the horses, plenty of wood. It was a good place to swim and fish too, and we always had fun there. On the other side, away from the river towards where the sun goes down, was open prairie sloping, and with one look we could see all the horses grazing. There were many, many. There were thousands, I think.

“Our small scouting party came from up the river, and the hoop of Sitting Bull’s people, the Hunkpapas, was the first one we came to. Not far from there were the Miniconjous, High Horse’s band. The Oglalas were farther down stream.

“We were riding across the Hunkpapa hoop, and some of the people were asleep or just getting up, because they had been dancing the victory dance all night. There was an old, old woman who saw me. She was cooking some meat in a pot. I knew her because she was my grandmother’s friend and they liked to help each other. As I rode by her, she looked up and said something. The wind had come up and it was getting stronger all the time, so I did not hear what she said at first. When I stopped my horse she spoke louder and said, ‘Natan uskay! Natan uskay! [Attackers are coming fast].’ And I said, ‘Where are they coming, Grandmother?’ And she answered in a high voice that sounded like scolding a dog that is stealing meat: ‘Grandson, I said Natan uskay!’ Then she went on stirring her pot.

“High Horse said to me, ‘Do you think she knows?’ And I said, ‘I know that old woman, and there’s something to it. I’m going home to get ready.’ High Horse said he would do that too, and then we’d come back. So I galloped on towards our hoop farther down stream. I could see people were excited, and some men and boys were out catching horses. When I got home my step-father was gone, but my mother and little brother and my grandfather and grandmother were there. They were tying some things up in bundles; and my mother said, ‘Soldiers are coming, they say! You’d better get ready! There’s meat in the pot.’ But I did not stop to eat. I stripped myself and put some paint on my face. While I was doing this, my grandfather said, ‘That’s right, Grandson! It is good to be young and die for the people. Nothing lasts, and it is not good to grow old.’ Then I took my fast-shooting gun that came from Wasichu traders on Mini Shoshay, and ran out to get a fresh horse.

“Just then there was shooting up river where the Hunkpapas were—like ripping a big blanket by jerks; and a big noise of yelling grew yonder.

“I ran into my cousin who was bringing in some horses, and one of them was mine; so I took it, and rode towards where the big noise came from. But it was spreading all along the valley now. Women and children and old people were running down the river towards me. Women were screaming, men were shouting and running for their horses. Some were riding or running on foot towards the attackers yonder. It was so crowded at first where I was that I could not ride fast. So I turned out to the right into the prairie, and the whole flat along the stream was covered with the big mixed, singing noise that floated above the people.

“Just then I ran into Red Feather, a young fellow like me, and he was bringing some horses. They were rearing and pulling at the lariats, and he was having a hard time with them, because they were excited too. One of them was my best horse, big and a good runner. Not Whirlwind; he was wolf-meat long before that. This one was a roan with a crooked white patch around his left eye and nearly over to his left ear. He had a white look in that eye when he was excited, and he never got tame. Sometimes he ran away with me, but he never got tired. So I got on this horse and gave the other to a man who was running on foot towards the attackers.

“I rode on the run towards where the big excitement was. There was an old Hunkpapa woman pointing a gun at a man on the ground. He was a Hunkpapa too and he was sitting holding himself up with his hands back of him. I stopped my horse to see what the old woman was doing to the Hunkpapa. His breast was all bloody. The woman pointed the gun at his head, and it snapped but did not go off. The man said, ‘Don’t kill me, Grandmother; I will be dead soon anyway.’ The woman screamed at him and said, ‘You sneaking dog! Why did you come with the soldiers to kill your relatives?’ Then the gun went off and the man fell over.

“I could see that horseback soldiers were running away up stream. They were strung out along the river bank, and they were not fighting much, just running away, with many, many Lakotas swarming against them and pushing them towards the water that was running deeper than a horse’s belly. I rode into the crowd and began knocking soldiers off their horses with the butt of my gun. It was easy to do. It was easier than shooting, for it was not like a fight. It was more like hunting cows. There was a Lakota on a white horse and he was killing soldiers with a sword he got in the Rosebud fight.