Chapter 18: The Fire Of The Unknown

For all of that day, they rode north through the grass and camped just east of Dupuyer, in the Butte Valley.

“Tomorrow, we will arrive at our home camp—just east of Browning—in the heart of the Blackfoot Piegan Reservation, Ichiban. I am sure that Stoneheart has arrived by now and has prepared the tribe for bad news regarding our disappearance.”

You Were Our Last Hope

“Hope springs eternal, Not-Many-Prisoners, when it is all you have left. With your help tomorrow, we will convince your People that the worst is behind us. The Blackfoot Piegan Nation will recapture its spirit, and we will unleash its fury upon the Siksika who have attacked in the dark and from behind.”

Not-Many-Prisoners liked the way Cutty used the words Us and We. “He is a man who goes beyond the smoke to the land of our Grandfathers,” he thought. “He has truly been sent from the great Kessuckquànd (Heaven), as the Old One has prophesied.”

With his saber and katana lying beside him, Cutty again offered thanks for being in the company of men with honor.

The Military Academy had been fine for what it was — “but a man’s true spirit could only be forged and replenished in the fire of the unknown.” He was once again at peace.

A Peace Only Proffered In Times of War



Chapter 19: The Backbone Of The World

Not-Many-Prisoners remained quiet during the long ride into the Blackfoot Piegan Camp. The reservation was located just east of the great mountains and stretched north to the Canadian border. Jimmy had told Cutty it was larger than the entire state of Delaware. “It is a big area for so few of us left,” Jimmy had said.

Cutty became overtaken by a feeling that he had not had since leaving Nepal. The grandeur of the mountains was filling his soul, and words again became useless in trying to describe their beauty. “No wonder the Indians fought so hard to preserve their homeland,” Cutty thought to himself. “Who wouldn’t rather die than leave this sacred place?”

As the sun disappeared behind the Livingston range, he could tell that Not-Many-Prisoners was worried. The Piegan Elder had been quiet all day, but when they passed a sign pointing toward Browning, he finally spoke: “We will be in Browning in less than an hour, Ichiban. Thirty minutes after that, we will enter the main camp of the Blackfoot Piegan Nation.”

Cutty wondered if he would be in trouble with The People for leaving Chief Stoneheart. He knew that Not-Many-Prisoners would have no say in the matter—even though he led the rustlers away from their small party. Cutty also knew that warrior societies had their own specific rules and regulations, and they often did not make sense to an outsider.

The Japanese Emperor had often told him: “Look not to the intellect for the truth you seek, My Son. Look instead—inside your heart—where fear is overcome by belief. Only there will you find the true warrior and the spirit and courage to win.”

As they passed through Browning, Cutty could feel the emptiness hidden in its dusty old streets. The buildings were drab, but more than that, there seemed to be an absence of life and a dispiritedness that hung over the town. It was nothing like any of those Tibetan towns that he rode through on his way to Kathmandu.

He Couldn’t Get Through Browning Quickly Enough

Passing the eastern border of the small town, Cutty began to hear drums in the distance. They were beating to a very slow cadence and seemed to dramatize the melancholy he already felt.

“They are the drums of sorrow, Ichiban. The People now fear we are dead, and their last hope of regaining the spirit of their Grandfathers has died with us. They will not believe what they see when we ride in through the dark.

“I would ask that you wait here, and let me ride in first to announce our presence. As you now know, proper introductions are very important to my People, and it is fitting that they hear of the things you have done before you arrive. Please rest here—by this small lake—I will be back by the time you have watered the horses.”

Not-Many-Prisoners dismounted and gave the reins of his horse to Cutty. Without another word he walked off into the darkness in the direction of the drums. It seemed like a long time had passed when Cutty heard the sound of the drums change. They now had a powerful energy, and he was sure their message (whatever it was) was reverberating off the great mountains to the west.

All At Once The Drums Stopped!

Cutty could hear voices, and lights seemed to be coming through the woods. It was then that he heard the voice of Stoneheart calling out to him from the trees ahead.

“Ichiban, the words of the Old One have come true. You are truly the savior of the Blackfoot Piegan People. Please enter our village as one who comes back to us—from before.”

Cutty had no idea what Stoneheart meant. “I’ve never been here before,” he said under his breath. “What could Jimmy have told them to make them greet me in this way?”

The lights ahead seemed to forge into one, and Cutty could see at least a hundred people walking his way carrying torches. They were also carrying something in their arms that he didn’t recognize.

“These are small offerings from the tribe in honor of your return,” said Stoneheart. “Not-Many-Prisoners told us about what you have done. It only adds to the stories that Lightfeather has already told about your many battles and triumphs. It has been a very long time since The Blackfoot Piegan Nation has been so honored by a visitor. Please allow us to formally welcome you again to our camp.”

Cutty was then offered a white horse to ride, but he insisted on walking with The People.