After 1823 A.D. Dakota Territory

Kairos lifetime 119: Marshal Casidy

Recording …

“Gunfire,” Lockhart said.  The bullet tore up the dirt several yards in front of them.  The shooter was not evident given the gentle rises in the landscape.  Decker and Katie already had their rifles out and their scopes attached to the rifles.  A herd of fifty or so buffalo grazed on the last grass of an Indian summer.  The travelers guessed it was late in November, but they were not sure what year.  The buffalo grazed six hundred yards away down small decline from their position.  People were thinking lunch, but everyone paused when they saw native warriors top the rise they headed toward.

“Wait,” Elder Stow shouted.  “Hold your fire.”  It was not easy when two more bullets came in their direction.  Elder Stow turned on his screen device and got down to stabilize the device just in case the natives rammed their horses into the wall like a cavalry charge.  “It is still set on a Decker wall, but you can see I put a touch of color in the wall so it would not be entirely invisible.”  The wall had a very light blue sheen, hard to see against a blue sky, but noticeable enough.  Unfortunately, it also showed where the sides of the wall stopped, a danger if the natives decided to ride around the edges.

The natives stopped firing when they recognized the travelers sat quietly and did not fire back.  They stopped when they came up to the wall and one got down to touch the shimmering blue screen.  The man stabbed at the wall with his knife, but to no avail.  “It is solid,” he told the others.

“The buffalo remain on our side of the wall,” the chief native said, but by then the travelers had moved up to the other side of the wall.  Elder Stow set the wall in place and the screen device automatically adjusted the distance as he drew near.

“We mean you no harm,” Katie spoke first before Lockhart took over.

“We are simple travelers, and we cannot rest until we get home, a place very far from here…”

“Where is home?” the chief asked.

“Oregon is that way. You are headed in the wrong direction.” the man on his feet yelled.

“Yellow knife,” the chief scolded the man, but spoke softly.  Yellow knife got back on his horse.  “Where is home?” the chief asked again.

“A hundred and fifty years in the future,” Lockhart guessed and responded with a straight face as he asked, “What year is this?”

“1875,” the chief said.  “You will be a hundred and fifty years old when you get there?”

“No,” Lockhart responded.  “There is a way, but we must get to the right place to jump forward in time.  We have two more jumps to make.”

The chief shook his head, but Decker asked something the chief understood. “You are hunting buffalo?  How many do you need?”

The chief looked at the small herd.  It grazed well beyond bowshot, and beyond rifle shot as well.  “Two,” he said.

“Major,” Decker got Katie’s attention.  Katie moved around the travelers to where she could get a clear shot at the beasts.  As soon as she was in the clear, Decker shot the first, putting one down with one bullet.  Katie fired second and a second beast went down.  The buffalo began to move away, but Decker got off a third shot.  The big bull began to stagger like a drunken man, until Katie fired, and the beast dropped.  “Three,” Decker said.  “We like to eat, too.”

The chief came right up to the wall and touched it to be sure it was still there.  Decker appeared to shoot right through the wall.  “It is a one-sided wall,” Lincoln mumbled before Lockhart spoke.

“Go and collect your supper.”

The chief turned to his warriors and gave orders.  More than half rode out to gather in the bounty while Tony asked a question.  “You are Sioux?”

“Cheyenne,” the chief said.  “I am Wooden Leg, but we are headed toward a great camp of many Cheyenne, Sioux, Arapaho, and others.  You will come with us, and we will feast.  You may speak with the medicine men, White Bull of the Cheyenne, and Sitting Bull of the Hunkpapa.”

“Elder Stow,” Lockhart said.  “You can turn off the Decker wall.”

“My Father,” Elder Stow acknowledged that he heard, and the wall went off.

“One thing,” Lincoln said.  “All of our things are sacred to the future, including the rifles and guns.  They are not for sharing with the people in this time and place.”

“You don’t know how to use them and may accidentally hurt one of your own people if you try,” Lockhart added.  “It is for your own safety.”

Wooden Leg put one hand out to be sure the wall had vanished.  He judged the sincerity in Lockhart’s face and yelled, “Yellow Knife.”

Yellow Knife looked defiant for a couple of seconds before he dropped his eyes and agreed.  “I will not touch the things of these white people.”

“Excuse me?” Nanette said.

Wooden Leg and Yellow knife both smiled, and Yellow Knife added, “And black people.”

The native camp proved to be something like a small city.  Three or four thousand natives gathered for what they called the Sun Dance.  People from many different tribes and nations would pledge peace and look for ways to stop the settlers from taking more land.  By late in 1875, settlers had moved into the Black Hills which was supposed to be Indian territory.  Sadly, war to drive out the settlers seemed the only option.

Sitting Bull and White Bull stood with other chiefs outside a big tent.  It appeared as if the travelers were expected.  An area had already been cleared for the travelers to set their tents.  The travelers got down and Katie, Lockhart, and Lincoln stepped forward to face the chiefs.  Wooden Leg went around to stand with the other chiefs while Sitting Bull and White Bull stepped forward.  Sitting Bull spoke in reasonably clear English.

“Marshal Casidy the Texican has continued on his journey.”  He pointed to the east.

“How did you know we were looking for Marshal Casidy?” Lincoln asked before they could stop his mouth.

“He came here a week ago and said you might arrive.  He spoke of you as people of great power and wisdom, though he guessed you might not arrive until next year.”

“1876?” Lockhart asked and glanced at Lincoln.

“Later,” Lincoln said, having gotten the message, he shut his mouth.

“I see the buffalo soldier and his woman,” White Bull said.

“He is not a soldier.  He is a marine, as am I,” Katie said and smiled.

“You are many, many miles from the great water,” Sitting Bull answered with a smile.

White Bull interrupted.  “We have a warrior woman in the camp.”  He said that like maybe he was not impressed by the woman, but as he looked back, a young woman pushed her way in front of the chiefs and came up to face Katie.

“You are one,” the woman said in the tongue of the Northern Cheyenne.

“Second in all the world after Zoe, our goddess,” Katie admitted, speaking in the same language.  The woman fell to her knees, but Katie reached out and helped the woman back to her feet. “Elect,” she said.  “We don’t do that.  We are sisters who defend the home and children, not rulers in this world.”

The woman stood but kept her eyes lowered.  “I have no children.”

“Are there no children of the Cheyenne or Sioux?  Are there no white or black children who need protecting when the men start killing each other?  Are there no innocent women who need your help?  Our place is to protect the innocent when the men go to hunt.  It would be better if the men learned to make peace, but that might be like asking the sun not to rise.  When there is war, we have work to do to save and protect as many innocent lives as we can.”

“I understand,” the young woman said and lifted her eyes while Katie hugged her.

“At least let there always be peace between the sisters,” Katie added.

White Bull shut his mouth and Sitting Bull smiled and spoke.  “Make your camp.  Stay tonight before you continue your journey.  We will build the fire of the sun and smoke for peace between us.”

Lockhart said, “Smoking is bad for my lungs, but for peace I will gladly smoke.”

White Bull nodded.  “Maybe the sun will bless us for not being as foolish as some think we are.”  He looked at Katie and the young woman who both grinned at him with the same grin.