The Siblings of Rosebud Hills

The Siblings of Rosebud

Sit now lost soul in the dark, and listen to a tale of my people heart to heart. Family and sacrifice stir the warrior's spirit and shout to blessings of our ancestors. This is a story of courage and love, not for the lovers beating heart but for her brothers. A mighty warrior of the Cheyenne tribes of the greatest plains north before the great mountain spirits meet our sky ancestors. My fellow brothers and sisters kept their peace from the pale folk for many years but felt honoring the warriors of our past men or woman was the right thing to do and good for our young braves.

For many years, our people fought with the pale face warriors for land gifted to us by our ancestors many years ago. Many wives, children, and warrior gave their souls to protect our ways of life from the hunger of the pale faces. Many of them carried dark spirits who caused much sorrow in our villages. For one woman, her warrior spirit grew from fear of her brother, who promised her he wouldn't go to war, but his spirit was too untamed to be held tight. Her embrace was not enough. With their parents killed in previous tragedies, this lonely Cheyenne woman was left with her only Brother; Chief Comes in Sight.

He was a great fighting warrior who rose to Chief in the early years of trading with the pale soldiers that visited our territory. He was deadly with a bow, ruthless up close, and intensely passionate about protecting the weak. His rally cry echoes the mountainside. These qualities struck fire between Crazy Horse and his Lakota warriors when they united with the Cheyenne peoples to face the contempt of General George Crook. The pale soldier's forces had pushed our brothers and sisters into the valley surrounded by mountains. We stood no chance in the coming nights, but the spirits of our ancestors were fierce and gave us strength. When my grandfather told me this story, he would always say, "Roar big and grow your enemies power down."

And that morning, amid the fog of war, soldiers broke through the dawn challenged, but the sea of red and black painted warriors, ready to cover the plains red.

"Brother? Brother? Brother?" screams the hasty and fearful Buffalo Calf, the sister to the Chief Come in Sight, as she enters his teepee.

She investigates the space with squinting optimism and eagle-eye focus. Unscathed by the site of her brother's weapons gone, she rushes out of the teepee. Several women were tending to the hearts of young Indian children crying. War was always brutal on women and children for the Native American people, and it made a mother's heart heavy to carry with such uncertainty looming around the village. She sprinted toward the Shaman's teepee with fearful thoughts and dreadful insecurities. Several women gazed at her, startled by her actions.

She bursts through the flap of the teepee into a small fog of incents burning as the Shaman stares into a wooden bowl filled with unique bones and marking-covered stones. The Shaman, a small man, decorated in symbolic pain with an extravagant feathered headdress, collects the bowl and deposits the unique pieces into a cup. He shakes the cup over the incense in a circular motion chanting myriad incantations and good fortune mantras. Nine, nine times, he does this and then casts the cup into the bowl. Broken bones, teeth, and various herbal objects land in their randomly assigned place.

"Our ancestors tell me nothing, daughter of fear," says the Shaman.

Buffalo Calf steps back, unphased by the awareness of the Shaman.

"I only fear for Chief Come in Sight. He makes many promises to not war and still picks the red," says Buffalo Calf.

"The ancestors only show us more pain, but also hope. I ask them for answers; they will not speak," says the Shaman.

"Will they say who dies?" asks Buffalo Calf.

"To stir our ancestor's warriors more is shame, but I will beg with the mouth of my people. It is my fate to speak of things unspoken. Let me whisper," says the Shaman.