Favourites

                             FAVOURITES

The body had been  laid upon the platform, accompanied by his prized earthly possessions. Several totems had been secured to the poles that formed the legs upon which the construction stood. As the sunset washed the sky in a crimson glow a slowly beaten tempo issued from the buckskin drums. Mourners joined in with a guttural wailing as they marked the passing of chief Standing bear.

Tum – tum – tum.  The drums summoned the spirits, companions now of the great chief. It was a funeral to be proud of, the whole village had congregated on the sacred hill in a mark of respect.

There was a youth in his sixteenth year present, who was the last to see Standing bear alive. They had been raiding a nearby Pawnee tribe for horses and Standing bear had his war pony drop dead under him, when an arrow had struck the beast in the heart. 

Diving head long from the stricken horse, Standing bear had first run after the youth who stilled his pony only yards from the chief. Yet Standing bear had remembered his favourite war bow, a present from his now dead father, lay in the scrub somewhere near the corpse. Returning to find it. The youth had called to him, as three pawnee warriors surrounded the unsaddled chief.

Wildly the youth looked round for any near by help, but realised quickly that the others were way ahead with the stampeding herd of captured Pawnee horses. What had started as an adventure was becoming a nightmare for him.

He watched in fascinated horror as the chief attempted to fend off his enemies with a tomahawk and a knife. Yet one of the Pawnee warriors was armed with a lance and could stay out of reach of the chief’s wildly slashing defence.
The knife arced and the lancer found his opening, jabbing quickly the tip of his weapon pierced standing Bear’s side.
Causing him to cry out in pain.

The youth was mortified and reacted out of anger, notching an arrow he managed to loosen off a shot. Which struck the lancer low in the left calf. It was his turn to cry out in pain…..hobbling a few laboured steps he fell on his face, as his leg gave way.

The Other two warriors dashed to their horses and began chasing the youth. It was a race that lasted a mile across the plains before the pursuers gave up. The youth waited an hour or more before cautiously working his way back to where Standing Bear’s horse had been killed. He found the chief was also dead, the lance wound had proven fatal.

he spotted that the man’s bow had been just out of reach of an outstretched arm, it was a visual clue as to why Standing Bear had returned to his horse when he could have clearly escaped. It saddened the youth that the dying man hadn’t been able to forfill his objective. Loading the body onto the back of his pony, he scooped up the ornate bow and began leading the horse back to the village.

Now at the funeral, it was strange that they considered him a hero for his deeds, he was pleased that Standing Bear’s Bow was to be considered a sacred object and would join the other totems that are prayed to in the medicine lodge. There was some comfort in knowing the chief’s favourite bow had acquired spiritual status.