Sacajawea Page 5

  Soon the winter would be upon us and the waters would freeze. We could travel no farther. This was where we had planned to stay. But we needed to be safe while we lived there. One of our first thoughts was to build a strong fort so that we would be secure through the winter.

  On October 26 we camped in a cornfield just below the lower Mandan village. Our plan was to have a great parley with all of the chiefs of the villages. You know, Pomp, there were five villages then, just as now. Two of them are Mandan and the other three are Hidatsa, those people your mother calls the Minnetarees. The Mandan chiefs came to our camp and smoked with me. This was a good sign.

  So the next morning, a Saturday, I hiked up to the lower village of Mitutanka. I climbed the fifty-foot terrace to the village. I surveyed the palisaded wall, the many lodges like beehives placed upon the ground, the hundreds of horses. As Indians go, the Mandans are weathy people. Their villages are the heart of trade for all of the plains. I was hopefid of success, but then a strange thing happened. They led me past a tall post standing in the open area in the center of their circle of lodges. I grew dizzy as I stepped down into the big lodge, which was dug almost as deep as a man's grave into the prairie soil. So I started things off badly. I did not accept the food they offered me. The sight of corn and beans made me feel ill. But only enemies refuse food that is offered to them.

  "Do you not trust us?" Little Raven asked. "Do you think our food is poisoned?"

  I was able to convince them I was indisposed and they forgave my bad manners. A free trader with the Northwest Company was also present. His name was Jessaume and he claimed to be a dear friend of my brother, the "General." It was a claim that I doubted. Jessaume was a cunning, insolent man whom my brother would not have liked. But he was married to a Mandan woman and spoke their language. An interpreter was sorely needed. Jessaume proved to be useful then and throughout the winter.

  It was Jessaume who told us that another of the Frenchmen there had a wife who came from the Snake nation, far up the river. Those were the very people from whom we hoped to get horses. We were eager to make the acquaintance of that man, Charbonneau, and his wife. Such a woman who knew the land and the people would be of great use. Perhaps we could persuade her and her husband to accompany us. But first we had to meet with the chiefs of the village.

  A meeting was set for the following day, but the wind blew down from the northwest so strongly that the chiefs could not cross the river to our side. The next day was no better. The sand came blowing in on us in clouds. But we tied a sail to make an awning to protect us from the wind. Then, though fewer than half the chiefs from the two tribes were there, we had our meeting.

  It seemed to us that things went well. Captain Lewis made his speech. Jessaume interpreted for us. Those gathered there listened and agreed. They would no longer make war with the Arikaras. The pipe was smoked between the Arikara chief, the Mandans, and the Hidatsas. We gave them medals, and the bonds of peace seemed to be firm.

  We did not know that Big Man, one of the chiefs of the Mandans, sought out the Arikara chief after the meeting.

  "Hear me," Big Man said to him, "we do not trust you people. The two soldier chiefs have asked us to make peace. We have done so, but we remember how you and the Sioux always attacked us in the past. We know you will do it again. But remember this, when you make war on the Mandans we kill you like buffalo."

  9. SACAJAWEA

  The White Men's Fort

  Long ago, the sun was hotter than it is today. Everything on earth was burned by the sun. One day Jackrabbit decided to do something.

  "I will go and find the place where Sun lives, "Jackrabbit said.

  Jackrabbit had only three legs and could not move fast. So he made himself another leg out of a piece of wood. Then he was able to run faster than the wind. He took his bow and arrows and he ran toward the place where Sun lives. The closer he came, the hotter it got. It got so hot that it burned Jackrabbit's fur. To this day, Jackrabbit's fur is still blackened in places.

  "I have to find shelter, "Jackrabbit said. Then he looked around for something that was not burned by the sun and he saw the cactus. So he made himself a house out of cactus. To this day, Jackrabbit likes to live among the cactus.

  In this cactus house it was shady and the sun no longer burned him. He waited there until it was night. Then, when night came, he traveled again toward the place where Sun lives. He hid with his bow and arrow and waited until dawn. When Sun started to come up, Jackrabbit shot an arrow and killed Sun.

  Then Jackrabbit took Sun apart. From different parts of Sun he made the stars and the moon. From Sun's heart he made the darkness. Then he brought Sun back to life.

  "From now on, "Jackrabbit said to Sun, "because you have been changed, you will never be too hot again."

  And that is the way of things to this day.

  EVERYTHING CHANGED after the white men came to the Mandan villages. As the wife of a trader, I was no longer seen as a captive. I was now freer to move about as I wished than I had been when I had first been captured.

  As you know, my son, among our people a person who is a captive is treated much like everyone else in the village—though more closely watched. It is not as it is among the white men with their slaves, who are kept in chains. Though Otter Woman was closer to my heart than any other woman, I had many friends among the Mandan women. We shared stories and gossip every day. Most of that gossip was about the Americans.

  After all I had experienced, I was not at all afraid of these white men. Everyone was curious about what those strange white men, the Americans, would do next, including your father. They were all he could talk about. One day he would talk about their boats and their fine guns. The next day he would talk about all of their provisions and the plans they had made to travel far upriver.

  "How far?" I asked. "Will they reach the Three Forks?" My heart was beating fast at the thought of those white men traveling to the lands of my people.

  Charbonneau laughed. "There and beyond. They will go, they say, as far as the Great Salt Water." Then he looked thoughtful. "Before I die," he said, "that salt water I would like to see."

  News traveled fast between the three Minnetaree and two Mandan villages along the Muddy River. After all, those villages are close to one another. One could walk from one village to the next in less time than it takes for the sun to move the width of two hands across the sky. So it was that word came to Meteharta, the Minnetaree village on the Knife River where we were then living, that the Americans were building something. Everyone was curious about that, especially your father.

  Your father, Pomp, is always interested in seeing something new. Perhaps that is why he will never settle in any one place. Even though our friend the good captain has helped us get good land here, I know we will not stay.

  So it was that Charbonneau decided to see for himself. His friend Jessaume, who was already staying with the Americans, had come to visit us.

  "They are like big children," Jessaume said. "It is easy to deceive them." Then he smiled. "They deceive themselves. They think they can stop the savages from fighting with each other by giving them medals and flags."

  "Sacre! Is this so?" said your father.

  Jessaume laughed. "But their pay is good. Come to their fort, mon ami. They will hire you, it is certain." He looked over at me. I said nothing, but I was listening, as I always do. "Because of her," Jessaume said. "Their plan is to go up the Missouri to reach the ocean. But when they come to the rivers end they will need horses. You know what people live there at the river's end."

  Charbonneau looked over at me, a clever look on his face. He made the sign for my people, the movement of a hand like that of a snake crawling.

  It is the movement our own people make to mean the weaving together of brush to make our lodges. But others who saw it thought it meant the snake. So it was that the other tribes and the white people called us Snake Indians. Remember, Firstborn Son, that Snake is not our name. We are the Numi, the hu
man beings. We are the Akaitikka, the Eaters of Salmon.

  "Yes," Jessaume said. "They need someone who can speak to the Snake Indians. They will need your Bird Woman."

  My thoughts had already traveled far, carrying me upriver with the Americans, back to that homeland from which I had been stolen. Yes, I thought. Yes! But I kept my face calm and said nothing.

  So your father went to visit the captains that very day. They had just chosen the site for their fort the day before that, and they were still cutting trees. So many trees.

  I remember when I first saw the fort. It was a surprise. The captains and their men were not going to live in earth lodges like the Mandans, or even tipis made of buffalo skin. Instead, their houses were to be made of wood, nothing but wood. Your good uncle would explain it to me later. In his homeland of Virginia, they have too many trees. It is not like it was that winter along the Missouri River, where trees are not easy to find. It seemed that they were cutting down every tree in the world to make their fort!

  Your father was welcomed when he came to Fort Mandan. Jessaume had spoken about him to the captains. He had told them that your father had a wife who was a Shoshone and could also speak Minnetaree.

  "I myself," your father said to them, "I speak all languages equally well. For you I will translate them as you travel."

  The captains listened to him with great seriousness—though I learned later that they found it hard not to laugh at his boasting. He did not really fool them, but they had learned how important it was to have someone who could translate for them. They knew how useful I would be to them if I was truly Shoshone, as he said. They hired him that same day ... and told him to bring his family along.

  Your second mother, Otter Woman, and I went to look at their fort soon after. They were making two rows of houses facing each other. Those houses were not round, like a real house, but had sharp edges. The roofs were not high, no taller than the height a man could reach with an outstretched arm. But the walls around were very tall. They looked to be four times my own height.

  Seeing those walls, I wondered if what I had heard more than one Minnetaree saying about the Americans were true. They said that the white people did not really want peace. That was why they had so many guns of all sizes. That was why they would not sell guns or powder or shot to the Indians. Perhaps once the strong walls were finished, these white people intended to make war on the Minnetarees. It was rumored that any Hidatsa who came to the fort would be killed.

  The Minnetarees were angry at the Americans because they would not sell any of their guns.

  "The only ones who have any sense," a Minnetaree chief said, "are the worker of iron and the mender of guns."

  "If we catch any of those white men out on the prairie," one young warrior said, "we will kill them like birds."

  The captains would learn later that those rumors were being spread by the Mandans. The Mandans wanted to keep all the trade to themselves. They did not want the Minnetarees coming and getting the trade goods from the white men. So the Mandans told the Minnetarees that the white men did not like them.

  ***

  The day we visited was not a happy day for your good uncle, though it started well when he met us. I remember how friendly he was. Jessaume was near him. He took Captain Clark's arm, pointed at us, and said something. A big smile came over your good uncle's face as he looked at me, right at me! Then he came over to us so quickly that he almost ran. He was such a tall man, Otter Woman and I had to lean our heads back to look up at him. He gave us presents, a mirror and some cloth. We were both excited, but we tried not to show any expression. I made the sign for thanks and nodded back to him. He just kept smiling, making gestures, saying things in his strange language. He really was like a big child, as open and friendly as one. I liked him.

  But his face changed quickly when a Mandan messenger came up to him and Jessaume translated for him what the man had to say. It was not good news. The Arikaras had done as the two captains told them. They had sent messengers to the Sioux, telling them that they wished to follow the Americans' plan to end warfare among all the river tribes. They had asked the Sioux to do the same. The Sioux had whipped the messengers, called them dogs and little girls. The Sioux were angry because the Arikaras had made peace with the Mandans. Then the Sioux had taken away their horses and forced the messengers to walk back home.

  Only the white men were surprised by this. We had all known peace was not an idea the Sioux would like. Before long, we thought, the Arikara and the Sioux would again begin raiding the Mandan villages, peace agreement or no peace agreement. So when the captains invited your father to move into Fort Mandan and bring his family, he was happy to accept. He did not have to convince me it was a good idea. We would be safer in there. Both your father and I hoped the captains might take us with them when they went upriver in the spring. Your father wanted to do it for the adventure, for the stories he would be able to tell, and for the money they would pay him. But my heart beat harder at one thought alone—I might see my people and my home once again.

  ***

  There was always much to watch at Fort Mandan. Every day the white men would tie their bright-colored cloth to a string and pull it to the top of a pole. They would stand together in lines and walk back and forth together in funny ways. This was called marching and drilling. Someday I will take you to where the soldiers do this here in St. Louis.

  In the evenings they would sometimes make music. Pierre Cruzatte would play his fiddle, and the men would dance with one another. York was one of the best dancers of all.

  No, Otter Woman and I did not dance. Nor did Jessaume's wife. We were married women, and the captains and the other white men always treated us with respect. Besides, there were so many young Mandan and Minnetaree women in the five villages, who admired the young white men. And the young white men admired them, too. Often those Americans would come back to the fort very late, after visiting some of those young women.

  As soon as we moved into the fort, we began to work The captains had great interest in Indian languages. Right from the start, their eyes would turn first to me. Unlike Otter Woman, I was not afraid to speak to them. I would tell them the words in Hidatsa. Charbonneau would then say those words in French. Then, if Jessaume was there, he and Jessaume would argue over which French word was the right one before translating it into English. At times Captain Lewis seemed ready to lose his temper with them both. But Clark would just laugh. Your father's ways have always amused him. It was easier when George Drouillard was there. He was good at French and English both, and never argued with Charbonneau. And you know how your father loves to argue.

  ***

  That winter began very cold. The snow fell early and deep and the river would soon freeze. It was not the time to leave the villages. But your uncle and the other Americans did not know that. Once again, word of trouble was brought to them. A raiding party of Arikaras and Sioux had attacked a group of Mandan hunters, killing one and stealing their horses. Four Minnetaree hunters from the upper village were missing, too. Perhaps the Sioux and Arikaras had killed them as well.

  Immediately Captain Clark decided to pursue them. He called together twenty of the men and formed a war party. They went across the river to the Mandan village, seeking volunteers to help chase the Sioux. It would have been a crazy thing to do. Just walking through the snow-covered brush to the village had almost worn them out.

  Captain Clark spoke to Big Man and Black Cat, the Mandan chiefs. "Come with us and help us punish the raiders," he said.

  The chiefs shook their heads. They knew that revenge could wait until the spring, when the weather would be better. To go out now would be foolish.

  "My father," Big Man said, "the snow is deep and it is cold. Our horses cannot travel through the plains now. Those people who spilled our blood have gone back."

  So ended Captain Clark's war party. And as the snow got deeper and the weather grew colder, things became quiet in Fort Mandan. I continued to hel
p as a translator, working almost every day. But the pace of life became slower. The Americans grew more relaxed. The Minnetarees and Mandans came and went freely, bringing food, sharing stories, playing games, and joking with the white men. Musicians came and danced and sang for the white men. In turn, the white men went to the villages, played their own music, and danced.

  It was a time of sharing and making friends. People stared in wonder at the marvels the white men showed them. There was Captain Lewis's air gun, which made no explosion and used no gunpowder. There was the tube that made things far away leap up to you when you held it to your eye and looked through. There were many other Great Medicine object^ made of metal and glass. When Captain Lewis saw my interest in his magical things, he seemed pleased and showed them to me, carefully explaining with words and gestures how they were used.

  The white men had not brought enough food for the winter. Hunting grew more difficult with the snow. But there was much corn stored in the villages, and the captains traded for that corn. The worker of iron, John Shields, would repair hoes and firearms for people in exchange for corn. I sometimes stood to watch him as his hammer struck like a bolt of lightning and fire flew from the hot metal. I stood back, careful not to get in his way, but I knew I was welcome. Shields, like all of the men, always treated me with kindness and respect. It was not just that I was under the protection of the captains. I had become a part of their company. They treated me as a little sister.

  Before long there were no more hoes needing repair. People asked for guns and powder in exchange for their corn. The captains refused. However, there was one weapon of war that they would trade. War axes. Shields began making war axes for trade. He cut apart an old iron stove to make them. For one battleax, he could get many baskets of corn in return. It was funny, was it not, Firstborn Son? The Americans told the Indians they were not allowed to fight any longer, and then they made battleaxes for them.