Hawk glanced up at Sloan and shrugged in a way that assured Skylar that both men believed there were things she just would never understand—she wasn’t one of them. But Hawk tried to explain.
“Each man is an individual among the Sioux. He has his own path to follow. No man can tell another man what his path is.”
“So anyone can do what he wants to do at any given time?” she asked.
Hawk shook his head. “Most of the time, men and women desire to live up to certain mores that rule our society. There are four great virtues we strive to achieve: bravery, fortitude, generosity, and wisdom.”
“Naturally,” Willow offered, “they are virtues which helped us to survive through the years.”
“Naturally, a warrior must be brave. He must defend his home, be a great hunter, and take many coup against the enemy,” Hawk said.
“Coup?” Skylar murmured.
“Coup—unfortunately, taking coup has sometimes hurt us in warfare,” Sloan said. “Coup is what you took against that Crow yesterday.”
“What?” Skylar demanded.
“You struck him,” Hawk said. “In battle, it is a braver deed to come close to the enemy and strike him than it is to shoot him down from a great distance. Very often, in battle, the Sioux are determined to count coup, and so they come close and strike their enemies, but in so doing, fail to eliminate some of their numbers.”
“Whereas white soldiers know damned well they can be killed by tomahawks, rifles, and arrows and are determined to kill the enemy who are carrying those weapons with all possible speed,” Sloan continued. “In our system, officers must achieve great victories in order to rise through the ranks.”
“Or beyond. If the rumors are true, Autie Custer is trying for one great victory over the Sioux so that he can run for president of the United States, become the Great White Father, and keep his promises to his Crow scouts and others,” Hawk said, his voice carrying a definite note of irritation.
“A Sioux doesn’t need to seek a great victory. He needs to lead a continually brave life,” Sloan said. “Taking coup is part of the bravery of battle. And last night against the Crows, you, a woman, struck a warrior. They were still talking about it when we arrived on the scene. It was a great humiliation for the warrior.”
“But it made you a greater prize of battle,” Hawk murmured, throwing a stick onto the fire.
“Any warrior can instigate a war party,” Willow said. “And those who choose to follow him may do so.”
“If a man chooses not to follow a war party, then that is his prerogative,” Sloan said.
“However,” Willow continued, “during important movements, hunts, or major battles, the akicitas must control the young braves who might jeopardize the party by seeking to break early and count coup or rush the buffalo for the first kill.”
“The akicitas?”
Hawk looked to Willow and Sloan, then lifted his hands. “Indian police.”
“Who change with the wind.”
“I’m lost again.”
“They are chosen from the warrior societies, but the head men choose warriors from different societies so that no man may have too much control over others.”
Skylar smiled. “It all sounds very democratic.”
“It is a free society,” Hawk said softly, “and that is often the best of it, and the worst of it.”
“What do you mean?”
“He means,” Sloan said, “that in the army, the generals give the orders and privates obey without question. No one chief can command hundreds of braves if the braves do not choose to follow him.”
“The people who have banded together with Crazy Horse have done so because they have chosen to do so,” Hawk said. “And when we visit there, although we have chosen to enter the white world, we don’t visit there as whites.”
“So what am I?” Skylar demanded.
Hawk lifted his hands and looked to Sloan as if he were again seeking the proper explanation. Then he stared at her and shrugged. “Property,” he said complacently.
“You’re not serious?—”
