Free The Elk-Dog Heritage by Don Coldsmith

Head Splitters. They could field not many more than a score of warriors, certainly not enough for defense.
    This seemed to make little difference to the defiant Bloods. They systematically assisted each other with preparations for travel, and soon Badger, astride his big black stallion, led them
through the camp and out onto the prairie. It would have been easier and more logical, Heads Off noticed, to enter the prairie directly and circle the campsite. Badger chose instead to use his departure for one last irritating gesture. Dust, kicked up by the horses, drifted among the lodges and over the cooking areas. Angry women called threats after the horsemen.
    The final insult was that a handful of young Bloods, bringing up the rear, drove the loose animals of the group through the camp, causing even more havoc.
    A young man reined over to stop before his chief for a moment. Heads Off recognized Red Dog. He had been a promising student in the Rabbit Society, and had become an expert horseman. The band would sorely miss such a warrior.
    â€œI am sorry, Heads Off. You have been good to me. I have learned much from you!”
    The young chief sensed some indecision here, and started to speak, but then changed his mind. What use would it be? He smiled and nodded, feeling a bit foolish.
    Red Dog whirled his mare and trotted after the departing Bloods.
    Dust began to settle as the little band filed out onto the prairie. Here and there a wail of grief told of a bereaved parent. Heads Off had seen tears in the eyes of several of the departing Bloods’ young wives, too. It was a sad parting. It was unlikely that any of the young people filing over the hill would ever be seen again. He turned to find Coyote standing beside him.
    â€œIt is an evil day,” the other said simply.
    The two turned to look at the campsite of the Elk-dog band. Here and there were scarred circles where the lodges of the defectors had stood. The remaining lodges looked pitifully few. With a sudden start, Heads Off realized the reason for the depressed attitude of Coyote.

    The Elk-dog band had become smaller by some ten lodges, and perhaps twice as many warriors. He had been concerned about the inability of the Bloods to defend themselves. Now the gravity of the situation sank home to him for the first time. Would his own Elk-dog band be able to mount a defense? Their fighting strength had just been reduced by over one third.
    Apparently this fact had not been overlooked by the other bands. Small Ears stopped by and generously offered to allow the Elk-dogs to join his Eastern band. Heads Off politely refused. He had had enough problems, he reflected, because of people with poor judgment. He did not need the added stigma of association with the Eastern band, traditionally a foolish group.
    More welcome was the invitation by the Red Rocks to camp together for a season. These two had spent a winter in the same camp before, in fact, the year his son Eagle was born.
    The suggestion of the Red Rocks was taken more seriously, then, but at length rejected.
    Heads Off talked long with both Coyote and White Buffalo before making the decision. Coyote was initially in favor of joining the other band. The old run-and-hide philosophy, held by the People before the coming of the elk-dog, was still strong.
    Oddly, the old medicine man favored striking out boldly on their own. The lifting of his burden by the banishment of the Bloods had taken years from his age. He now appeared vigorous, even eager. The Red Rocks, he pointed out, winter in an area with little game. It would be difficult to obtain food for the combined bands.
    In addition, there was the matter of prestige. The Elk-dogs, most respected of the bands of the People, could not appear to be merely the poor relatives of another group.
    â€œPerhaps next year,” White Buffalo conceded, “but not now.”

    In the end, Coyote agreed. For this season, they would be on their own.
    Heads Off was uneasy