Free A Whisper In The Wind by Madeline Baker

of the flute speak to her of the feelings in his heart, of his longing, of his loneliness.
    Of course, he was not the only man courting Winter Song. She was a woman of rare beauty, a woman from a good family, one with pleasing manners. Many of the young warriors, and a few of the older ones, sought her hand, but her most persistent suitors were Michael and Two Ponies. Some nights there were as many as six or seven men gathered outside her lodge, each waiting for a chance to speak with Winter Song. There was much speculation in the camp as to whom she would eventually choose for her husband. Most of the people favored Two Ponies, for he had been courting her for almost two years, but a few of the more discerning women in the tribe shook their heads, declaring that Two Ponies had lost the race the day Wolf took up residence in the village.
    When he was not courting Winter Song, Michael was practicing the skills necessary to be a warrior. He spent one whole day learning the proper way to take a scalp. Though scalps were not held in high regard by the Cheyenne, the taking of a scalp was something a warrior needed to know. Often scalps were used as emblems of victory, and it was a good thing to carry an enemy’s scalp back to camp to rejoice and dance over, although any part of an enemy’s body would serve just as well. Scalps were often used as trim for war clothing or fringe on shirts and leggings, or to tie to a horse’s bridle when going to war. Usually a scalp was only a little larger than a silver dollar, though on occasion the whole skin of the head was taken.
    “Now you know how,” Yellow Spotted Wolf said after describing the procedure. “When you take your first scalp, you will receive instruction from my father on how the scalp should be handled.”
    “What do you mean, handled?”
    “Scalps must be stretched over a hoop, but before any work is done, my father will light his pipe and offer it to the earth and the sky, then the stem will be held toward the scalp and he will offer a prayer for further good fortune.
    “Next, the scalp will be placed on a buffalo chip, flesh side up. You must take a piece of charcoal from the fire and rub it over both sides of your knife, from the hilt to the point, then you must hold the knife over the scalp and say, ‘May we again conquer our enemies.’ Then, using the point of your knife, you will cross-cut the scalp from north to south, then east to west, always beginning at the edge of the skin away from yourself. Once the scalp is properly prepared and secured to the hoop, it will be attached to a willow pole, unless you wish to use it for decoration.”
    “Seems like a lot of trouble for a piece of hair,” Michael remarked.
    Yellow Spotted Wolf shrugged. “It is the way of our people. Did those who raised you not teach you how to lift a scalp and how to preserve it?”
    “No, they didn’t do a lot of scalping where I come from.”
    Yellow Spotted Wolf grunted softly. “If you find the taking of a scalp distasteful, it need not be done. It is the counting of coup that denotes bravery and courage, not the taking of a scalp. Any man who goes into battle carrying only a hatchet or a war club is considered brave indeed, for these weapons require hand-to-hand combat and cannot be used from a distance. A lance is more creditable than a bow. Bravest of all is to carry only a coup stick. Our people count coup on an enemy only three times.”
    “Sounds like a good way to commit suicide,” Michael muttered.
    “A brave man does not consider suicide, but a man who has been long sick, or one who has had great misfortune and wishes to die often declares that he is going to give his body to the enemy.”
    “You’re kidding.”
    “Some years ago, Sun Path declared he would do just such a thing. He had been ill for many months and had given up all hope of recovery. His father agreed and, after giving his son his strongest medicine and a fine horse, sent Sun Path off with a war