The Holy Road

Chapter X

Smiles A Lot had no bad dreams. In fact, he slept soundly and deeply for the first time in weeks.

He was up long before Kicking Bird began wrestling with his children and spent most of the early morning with his horses, trying to figure out how best to exploit his wealth. So beautiful, he thought as he meandered back and forth among them. They all knew and trusted him, and as he passed by, dragging a gentle hand over their slick coats, the ponies would nicker to him or lazily blow the dust from their nostrils in a sign of contentment. He, in turn, felt unbounded affection for them. But he was not thinking how much he loved them this morning, he was trying to decide which ones he could do without.

In the past he'd sought peace in the company of his horses, a living shield against the doubts he had about himself. But now there was no vestige of doubt. Smiles A Lot looked upon his many horses as weapons, and before the sun was at midpoint he was back in camp fully armed.

Smiles A Lot had no capacity for guile, and as a trader he had never displayed the adroitness at bartering that came easily to others. He had never sought anything more than a fair return on the value he offered and that spirit had guided his selection of the half-dozen sturdy ponies he brought into camp that morning.

Three of the ponies he left picketed in front of his father's home. With the other three in tow, he crossed the village to the lodge of Horned Antelope's sister, the newly widowed Magpie Woman. She had lost her husband in the raid into Mexico and her sudden dependence on the charity of others made her a good candidate to provide what Smiles A Lot needed.

She was at home with her two children and seemed happy to see Smiles A Lot. Her chopped hair and the unhealed cuts on her arms made it plain that she was still in mourning, and when Magpie Woman warmed to the offer he made, Smiles A Lot knew he was doing the right thing.

It was common knowledge that his horses were the finest. Any one of them was a prize and he was offering three to the impoverished widow, two for materials and one for labor. Magpie Woman seemed delighted and assured him that the lodge he wanted her to make could be completed before the next full moon. She had enough hides already on hand, and though she might be short a few poles, she assured him she could find more without any trouble.

Returning home, he found his father and mother outside, curiously inspecting the three horses he had left staked to the ground.

"Are these your ponies?" his father asked as Smiles A Lot came up.

"No, Father, they are yours."

"Mine? What do you mean?"

"I want to trade them for a bow and set of arrows."

"A bow. . and arrows. . for you?" his father asked.

"I want a long-shooting bow of ash, and maybe twenty arrows."

Smiles A Lot's father scratched the side of his head. "Twenty arrows. . that's a lot, son. There is no ash here. I would have to travel one or two sleeps to find it."

"That is why I'm offering three good ponies instead of one."

The older man cocked his head quizzically at his boy.

"Why do you want a bow and arrows?"

"Any man has to have such things in his lodge'"

"What lodge?" his mother suddenly spoke up.

"Magpie Woman is making me a lodge of my own."

Smiles A Lot's mother stepped in front of her husband. "How can you have a lodge of your own? Who will keep it? Who will make your food. . your clothes?"

"Maybe I will," Smiles A Lot replied stoutly.

"This is backwards," his father started, "what will you do —"

"How can you have a lodge without a woman?" his mother interrupted.

"I will have a woman."

"Who?"

"I don't know. . someone good."

"People will laugh," his mother cautioned, "a grown man with a lodge and no family."

“Let them laugh," said Smiles A Lot. "I am a Comanche man. I can do what I want. I want a lodge and I'm going to have one. Father, will you take the ponies I'm offering or should I walk them over to Powder Face?"

"Powder Face!" his father exclaimed. "His arrows can't hit anything."

"Is it a bargain?" Smiles A Lot asked.

"You will have to be patient. . an ash bow takes time."

"I'll be patient."

Leaving his stunned parents, Smiles A Lot set off once more and a few minutes later was standing at Owl Prophet's lodge flap. He announced himself and waited.

After what seemed a long time the flap opened and the slit-eyed prophet stooped through the opening. He said nothing but stood staring down at Smiles A Lot, waiting for the boy who was good with horses to state his business.

"I am taking the warrior's path," the young man said evenly. "I want you to guide me."

Owl Prophet continued to stare at his caller. He looked at the sun. "Come back when there is shade on the other side of my lodge," he said. Then he ducked back through the flap.

When Smiles A Lot returned early in the afternoon he was leading another of his ponies. Again he announced himself and again Owl Prophet emerged. He glanced expressionless at the young roan stallion Smiles A Lot had brought and told the boy to come inside his family's lodge.

No one was at home and Smiles A Lot sat in the spot Owl Prophet indicated, on the other side of the small fire burning in the center of the floor. The prophet did not offer his visitor a pipe. He sat still, his long unbraided hair spilling down his shoulders, his eyes so narrow that it looked as if he might drift off to sleep at any moment.

After a long silence, his lips moved almost imperceptibly. "Tell me how this has come to pass."

Smiles A Lot told of the night he had spent in the rain outside Kicking Bird's lodge. He told of the arrangement he had made with Magpie Woman and the bargain he had struck with his father. He was tempted to reveal his feelings for Hunting For Something but decided that such an admission would only distract Owl Prophet.

It was hard to tell what Owl Prophet was doing. His eyes had shut as soon as Smiles A Lot started to explain, and they remained closed even after Smiles A Lot had stopped talking.

But all the while Owl Prophet held his head up, as if the eyes were somehow seeing through the lowered lids. Smiles A Lot started when the lids suddenly flew open and the prophet's eyes, round as eggs, stared straight through him. The words Owl Prophet spoke were flat and trancelike, delivered with an authority that discouraged questioning.

“Journey to the country of the Kiowa. Seek out the place of mystery, the great bluff with sides that slope back to the earth, the bluff whose rock face looks like a bear has clawed it. A creek runs along its base and winds around behind. Secret your horses and possessions there and climb the back side of the place of mystery. Sit near the edge where the rock face falls to the creek. Do not eat. Do not drink. Only pray. Pray hard. Ask the Mystery to reveal your destiny. When you see something, come and tell me what it is."

Owl Prophet trembled. His eyelids closed then opened into slits once again. "You have heard me," he said lowly. "Make ready and go. Leave that pony where he is."

Smiles A Lot wasted no time. He asked his befuddled mother to prepare enough food for a week of sleeps, then picked up his old bow and a few arrows and cut three favorite ponies from his herd. His preparations were so single-minded and hasty that to say good-bye had not occurred to him. His only thought was to follow Owl Prophet's instructions, and when his father asked when he would return, Smiles A Lot answered simply, "I don't know.”

Then he vaulted onto a dapple-gray pony and, with horsehair lines to the other two in hand, started off through the village. People noticed him leaving but no one spoke to the boy, whose eyes were fixed straight ahead to the northeast.

One, however, followed him to the edge of the village, there to stand watching on the lip of the prairie as the young man and his horses shrank to specks. For a long time she had wished he would look her way or speak to her. For a long time she had been unable to think of much else and her heartstrings had been jumping all morning with the news that Magpie Woman was building a lodge for him, that his father was going to make him a bow, and that he had been sequestered with Owl Prophet.

What mission he was undertaking she did not know. She only knew that whenever a man left camp there was no guarantee he would return, and she stood squinting until the black dots moving in the distance vanished below the horizon. All along she had hoped that the rider and his horses would by some miracle grow larger again and that he would be riding toward her instead of away. But now he was gone and inwardly she chided herself for being shy. Life was uncertain these days. It seemed like something new was happening every day and there was no knowing what tomorrow promised. And now there was nothing she could do but wait and hope for his return. Then she would do something, she told herself.

For now her heart was on the ground. She stared down at her moccasins with wet eyes and with the wild thought of jumping on one of her father's ponies and racing out to catch up with him. But when she lifted her eyes once more and saw that he was truly gone, she put herself back in the hands of fate and walked gloomily into the village. It would do no good to mourn a missed opportunity, she told herself. Might as well go home and make up grandfather's bowl of pemmican.