Charles Cunningham, ex-captain of the U.S. Cavalry, falls in love with a Sioux Maiden. Their relationship does not run smoothly, and there are various complications. The action takes place against the background of the war between te U.S. Army culminating in the Battle of the Little Big Horn.

The Vision Quest

By Colin Broadbent

Trafford Publishing

Copyright © 2010 Colin Broadbent
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4269-2188-9

Chapter One

The Wagon Train.

Across the North American prairie in the year 1875 a wagon train wound its way slowly and cautiously. Eleven wagons in all, hoping, nay, expecting to reach the promised land of the West coast of the U.S.A.; Oregon or thereabouts.

The train was making its way across an open plain with a distant view of the Dakota Black Hills to the North and a high bluff to the South. In front the way was clear, only grass and scrub and the odd tree. As it made its way ever Westward towards the Shangri-La of Oregon its progress was watched by a keen pair of eyes which noted every little detail of its composition.

A lone rider, a white man, sat his horse on the summit of the high bluff to the South. The wagon train was passing almost beneath his feet. The bluff was an extensive one stretching a mile or more in an East-West direction. At the Eastern end it gradually tapered down to meet the prairie, at the Western end it ended abruptly in a sudden and dangerous precipice.

The man and his horse looked down on the wagons from a height of some eighty or ninety feet; eighty or ninety feet of sheer drop. The wall of the bluff was almost vertical; a few channels cut its face in a downwards direction. Normally they would be water-filled but now, in the summer they were dry; there had been no rain for some considerable time. A few stunted trees, similarly deprived of water dotted side of the bluff. Near the bottom scattered cacti were to be found. A myriad of loose rocks and a few more firmly fixed boulders here and there completed the picture.

Nevertheless, the rider intended to descend the bluffs at that particular spot; he had business with the wagon-train.

The name of this intrepid rider was Charles Cunningham. Ex captain in the U.S. army. How he came to be there was a long story. About twenty-five years of age he had a glittering career before him, or so it had seemed. Now he was an ex officer from the army. There were several theories as to how this had come about.

He had been disgusted by the government's and army's treatment of the Indians, and had gone off to live with them and to better understand them and their way of life.

Another theory was that he had been court-martialled for insubordination and, to avoid the inevitable reduction in rank, had taken refuge with the Sioux.

Yet another theory held that he had not been court-martialled only threatened with it; to avoid the possibility he had joined with the Sioux.

Finally there was the tale that he had resigned his commission and gone to the Indians to escape the attentions of a girl who had designs on him. He had tried to get a posting far away without success, the girl had followed him to the fort and elsewhere in a vain endeavour to get his attention.

Anyway, whatever the reason he had been living with the Ogallala Sioux now almost a year. In that time the Sioux had attacked and overwhelmed three wagon trains and were about to serve this one in the same way.

Charles Cunningham had pleaded with the chiefs and elders of the tribe to allow him to talk with the leader of the wagon train in an attempt to get them to change their route which took them through the Sioux hunting grounds and perilously close to their sacred burial ground.

They had been scornful about his idea; the "White eyes" would not listen. What did they care about the Sioux? Nevertheless Charles had persisted with his plea. In the end they had relented a little. He could warn the wagon train about the danger of pursuing their journey and get them to change direction. The Sioux would wait in ambush somewhere further along the trail in the expectation of his failure.

Charles knew that they wouldn't give him long to change the wagonners minds; about half-an-hour at the most. They were very angry about the constant invasions of their lands; they would show no mercy.

Charles Cunningham was a tall man, about six foot or as near as made little difference; he had fair hair, blue eyes and eyebrows which matched his hair. Apart from side whiskers he was clean-shaven. Those whiskers were quite long, reaching down to his lower jaw. He kept them well trimmed however. He was strongly built with broad shoulders and slim hips.

Charles wore dark blue trousers tucked into his riding boots and a blue and red checked shirt. Around his waist was a gun-belt and holster holding an Army 0.45 Colt six-gun. He also sported a cartridge belt with a Bowie knife attached at his left hip. A stetson, cream-coloured adorned his head.

His horse was an Indian pony, very wiry and strong. The usual saddle and saddle- bags completed his outfit apart from the Winchester rifle which was carried in a scabbard near his left leg.

The wagon-train approached slowly, it was about level with him now; he knew he would have to move swiftly if he wanted to keep them from the Sioux.

The nearest and most dangerous way was straight down the almost vertical side of the bluffs. He would have to do it though if he wanted to warn the wagon-train before it was too late.

He urged his pony over the edge of the bluffs; the animal was reluctant but his rider persevered. With his ears pricked up and snorting his displeasure, the pony commenced his descent. He braced his fore-legs hard against the slope while his hind-legs were flexed as hard as could be; his hind quarters were almost touching the ground. In this rather undignified posture animal and man descended. An occasional push with his hind-legs kept up the downward motion, not that there was much need for that for the steepness of the bluff was almost enough to keep horse and rider moving swiftly downwards. The intelligent Indian pony avoided the dangerous network of dried-up water channels which ran down the face of the bluff, likewise the sparsely scattered trees. His rider was experienced and skilful enough to allow him to find his own way down; he sat almost motionless on the pony's back. He maintained an almost upright posture during the descent leaning slightly backwards.

At last the lower slopes were reached, the pony, snorting his relief, assumed a more dignified stance and proceeded to wind his way through the maze of cacti which now prevailed.

Reaching the floor of the prairie at last, Charles Cunningham glanced up at the wagon-train. He and his pony had raised a large dust cloud during their descent; there was no sign from the wagon-train.

"Pretty poor look-out they must keep," he thought.

He urged his pony to a canter and approached the leading wagon.

The man on the front seat glanced at him but otherwise took little heed.

Charles signalled to him to stop.

Somewhat reluctantly the fellow obeyed. He looked sourly at Charles.

"What can I do fer you, mister?" He asked.

"You heading for Oregon?" Charles asked.

"What if we are? What's it to yuh?"

Charles explained,

"You're heading into trouble mister. This here's Sioux hunting ground. They don't take kindly to people intruding. Scares away the buffalo. If yuh care to let me guide yuh for a spell I can show you another way to the West coast."

The man spat over the side of the wagon.

"Yuh crazy or what? We aim to get to Oregon come what may. We don't give a cuss about the Sioux or anyone else. Yuh're wasting yuh time mister. So long!"

The sour faced middle aged female sitting next to him on the wagon nodded her agreement.

"That's so Silas. Don't need nobody to tell us what to do. We spoke to an army patrol a while back. The lieutenant told us there weren't any Indians around here."

"Well, ma,am, he was wrong," Charles replied, "there's plenty of Indians about here if you know how to look. They're fixing to attack you pretty soon."

Silas spat again.

"Count the wagons mister. Eleven ain't they? That means around twenty or so rifles. We can take care of a whole tribe of Sioux or whatever they call themselves. Anyway, how come yuh know so much about their plans? Seems to me you are mighty well informed."

Charles didn't answer him. What was the use?

"Suit yourself mister," he said, "mind if I try some of the other wagons?"

The other shook his reins and got his wagon rolling once more.

"If yuh want to try mister that's up to you. So long."

Charles tried the other wagons one by one as each rolled on by him. It was useless; they took no notice of his warnings, one or two even jeered at him. At length he came to the last wagon of all. It was straggling a little way behind the rest of the train. As it came up to him he saw that it was being driven by a rather attractive lady of round about thirty years of age. She was handling the horses pretty well. The blue dress she was wearing fitted her figure perfectly and was drawn up to just above her knees.

Her legs thus exposed were very nice and shapely, her knees also. She was slightly tanned by the sun in a most attractive way.

She halted the wagon as she came up to Charles. She smiled on him.

"What can I do for you mister?" She asked.

Charles began his warnings about the Sioux; he wasn't going to get anywhere he felt sure. Nor was he mistaken. She shook her head;

"Sorry mister, we follow the others. They'll take care of us."

"Who is 'us'?" asked Charles.

"Why us here in this wagon. My friends and myself. There's Freda and Josephine."

Just then a woman's head appeared from behind the girl.

"What's the matter Sarah?" She asked.

Sarah answered,

"Fellow here claims we are trespassing on Sioux hunting grounds. He wants us to follow him as he takes us by a different route to Oregon."

Charles touched his hat politely to the other female.

"That's right miss. The Sioux are fixing to attack you pretty soon."

Freda shook her head.

"We don't fall fer that one, mister. How do we know we can trust you? Get us out on the trail alone with you and who knows what you'll do. Besides which we don't mean no harm to the Sioux. If it comes to a fight we got enough men here to stand them off."

Charles was growing impatient.

"That all you got in this wagon? Just the three of you? You're in fer a nasty surprise when the Sioux do attack. Won't you listen to me? Look' I'll hand over my gun and Bowie knife to you if you'll just listen to me and let me lead you all to safety."

The two females shook their heads, Josephine was apparently asleep in the back of the wagon, they were going to stick with the rest of the train. There was safety in numbers.

Charles gave up then. He turned his horse away and rode off towards the bluffs once more. He made no attempt to scale the heights but, instead, he headed towards the Eastern end where it came down to the prairie. There he made his way across the plain for several miles until he came to the village of the Ogallala Sioux.

He rode over to the pony herd where the remainder of the ponies were kept. Most of them were out with the war party. He dismounted, removed his saddle, blankets and rifle, and turned his pony loose to be looked after by a young Indian boy of about ten years of age.

He went slowly to his tepee which, until a short time ago, he had shared with three young Sioux. In the last few months they had left one by one to get married; the last one only two weeks ago. In the tepee he laid down his rifle, saddle and blankets and then his gun-belt and six-gun, also his Bowie knife. He brushed the dust from his clothes, took a drink of water, tended to the fire, and went forth to visit his friend

Chapter Two

Bear-Paw.

The divisions of the Plains Indians were far more complex than simply those between the tribes. Each tribe was closely related to a number of others linguistically. There were also more distinct tribal divisions, and subsequent ramifications into sub-tribes, hunting bands and clans The Sioux nation was initially divided into three separate entities over a period of time. These were, the Dakotas, or Santee Sioux; the Nakotas, or Yankton Sioux; and the Lakotas. The first two tribes remained on the eastern edge of the plains, but the Lakotas or Teton Sioux migrated west to the central plains, and became known as the western Sioux.

Although the number fluctuated slightly as divisions disbanded or united, there were strictly seven sub-tribes of the Teton Sioux. This number was considered integral to the nation's structure.

These sub-tribes were; the Brule Sioux, The Hunkpapa Sioux, the Miniconjou Sioux, the Ogallala Sioux, the Oohenonpah Sioux, the Sans Arc and Sihasapa Sioux.

These sub-tribes still contained too many people to be practical units outside the summer months and so the Plains tribes divided into compact hunting bands. These were small enough to be mobile and to require only a limited amount of food and grazing, yet remained large enough to defend themselves and to co-operate as a unit when hunting the buffalo.

The lodge or tipi provided shelter for all the tribes of the Plains. It was basically a tilted cone, comprising three or four main poles strapped together at the top with sinew. It was covered with dressed buffalo skins. The lower quarter had a draught-excluding buffalo-hide liner on the inside and a narrow entrance facing east covered by a skin-flap.

The tipi was capable of being transported easily; the poles presented the greatest difficulty, but they could be easily be dragged by two or three horses and they could also carry the lodge cover. The tipi could be dismantled or erected quickly by two experienced women and the protection it offered was excellent. It was strong enough to endure the harshest winters, being water-proof and stream-lined against the wind. It could be easily patched if damaged. At the top were two smoke-flaps each positioned by an outer pole. These simple devices could be positioned according to the direction and strength of the wind, preventing draughts and allowing free exit of smoke from a central fire, and so ensuring warmth in the winter.

The tipi could be considered as more than just a shelter as it embodied the sacred circular form, and was seen to be symbolic of the Indian's world. The painting of visionary experiences and war exploits on the lodge cover, door and liner was common.

The Plains Indians were a very spiritual people believing that supernatural power pervaded every aspect of their life; to live in harmony with that power was essential to their survival. A manifestation of that spiritual power was called 'wakan' by the Sioux. A holy man was therefore called 'Wikasa- Wacan'. Their supreme deity was 'Wakan-Tanka' or the Great Spirit. 'Wakan' power was the source of what came to be known as medicine, so that 'making medicine' simply meant invoking the Sacred Powers. Medicine was sought and held through prayer, self induced visions, ritual and medicine items such as pipes and other bundles. It was so important because it provided for the tribe and guided warriors and healers.

A belief in the Supreme deity or Great Spirit was universal, the original source of 'medicine'. The sun was regarded as a material token of the Great Spirit's existence. While the Great Spirit was an abstract, the sun was a visible symbol, and the tipi was always pitched to face east so that prayers of thanks could be offered up to it at the beginning of each day.

Charles walked slowly towards the tipi of Bear-Paw his mind on the fate of the wagon-train. It would all be over by now, he thought. Soon the war-party would be returning with its booty and maybe a prisoner or two. He sighed; ah well he had tried to get them to turn back, they were stubborn and foolish like so many of their kind.

Outside the entrance to Bear-Paw's tipi he saw 'Sweet Prairie Blossom' the number one squaw of Bear-Paw squatting by a fire cooking the evening meal. She was a pleasant looking young woman of about twenty-nine years of age. 'Sweet Prairie Blossom' had borne two sons to BearPaw, the eldest being then eleven years old.

She was, as always, pleased to see Charles.

"Ho, Charlee, how are you? The day went well with you? Bear-Paw will be glad to see you. He awaits within. Please enter."

Charles greeted her in his usual friendly fashion and, pushing aside the tipi flap, he entered the tipi. Bear-Paw was seated on a buffalo robe smoking his pipe; his face lit up at the sight of Charles.

"Ha! Charlee. Welcome. Come, sit beside me and smoke a pipe or two. Tell me your news. How did you fare with the wagon-train?"

Charles sat near to Bear-Paw on the buffalo robe. He took the pipe which the brave offered him.

"The news I have is not good; that is not good for me. They would not listen to me on the wagon-train. Your war-party must have attacked them by now."

The Indian removed his pipe from his mouth and chuckled.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from The Vision Questby Colin Broadbent Copyright © 2010 by Colin Broadbent. Excerpted by permission.
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