XIV
Little Elk stood before Major Wilson’s desk, with the doctor, the marshal of White Pine, and Sergeant Weatherly in the wings. The doctor’s eyes lingered on her appraisingly, if not openly, and the attention annoyed her, even as she let Major Wilson’s arrogance wash over her.
Wilson said, “Speak, witch. What do you know? Answer the man!”
The doctor stepped forward. “Little Elk?”
Little Elk focused her eyes on the wall above the major’s head. The memory of Born-with-a-Smile’s rasping cough did not encourage her to cooperate with a man such as Major Wilson, who had stampeded his military might across her people’s heads since he arrived here during the troubles. “My people are sick, and they are starving. Such people do strange things.”
“This is not the time for a saucy lip, witch.” The major leaned forward, punishing the tip of another cigar with his teeth.
The doctor said, “Have any of your people turned violent within the last few days? Did anyone leave camp and do harm to someone else?”
Little Elk’s voice was even, almost bland. “Lakota men are warriors, hunters. Sometimes they are filled with rage.” The Lakota were too hungry. Many of them left camp to forage for food and small game. But her people had not fought among themselves since the Ghost Dance had divided them last autumn.
A zephyr whistled across the office window, rattling the panes, dusting the glass with grit.
Major Wilson slammed his fist against the desk top. “One more circumlocution from you and I’ll have you flogged.”
She had looked down the barrels of distant Hotchkiss guns. This bully’s anger did not faze her. “The Major’s men do not let us eat or breathe. We are scared, but not foolish.” She looked at the doctor for the first time. “There is something else, Doctor. Two children are missing. They went to sleep last night in their parents’ tents, and in the morning they were gone. We have been looking for them all day, but there is no sign.”
The doctor said, “Did you know of this, Major?”
The major shrugged. “The first I’ve heard of any such thing. Besides, they probably just wandered off and got lost in the dark. She’s evading your questions, Doctor. As I said she would. She’s now wasting your time and mine.”
The doctor said, “Two children would not simply leave their parents in the dead of night.” He turned to Little Elk. “How old are they?”
“Seven and five winters. Their names are New Moon and Two Otters, a girl and a boy.”
“Were they sick?”
“No. We have searched as best we are able, but we are barely allowed out of our tents. We cannot extend our search, and the soldiers will not listen to us, so we do not speak.”
Major Wilson sneered at her. “Of course not. You cannot be trusted.”
Little Elk suppressed a bitter laugh at the ridiculousness of a white Army man saying that her people could not be trusted. The number of treaties and agreements the United States government had broken in the last fifteen years alone would fill a book the size of a Bible.
The doctor’s face reddened. “Major! For God’s sake, there are parents out there who have lost their children!”
Wilson gave the doctor a long look, a smirk flickering for an instant at the corner of Wilson’s mouth. “They are still heathens, Doctor, despite the progress we have made in civilizing them. Heathens die every day, and God does not care. He is quite happy to send all their souls into the fiery furnace. However, for as long as they are in this world, they are my charges, and I won’t have them wandering across the hills. Sergeant, initiate a search for the missing whelps.”
Sergeant Weatherly saluted. “Yes, sir. Right away, sir.” He spun on a heel and departed, clearly relieved to be leaving.
Major Wilson gestured vaguely, dismissively at Little Elk. “Go with him.”
Little Elk held her tongue and followed the sergeant out.
Then a distant scream echoed over the wind.