It was said that within the ornately carved box were scales and bits of horn taken from the Horned Serpent by a great Hopaye. There, too, lay an arrowhead from the beginning times that had once tipped one of Eagle Man’s shafts. With it, he slew Cannibal Turkey. Sprigs of red cedar, shining pieces of galena, and the scalps from dead enemy chiefs added to the war medicine’s great Power. So, too, did a piece of copper sculpted into the shape of Morning Star. Some said the red color of the wood had resulted when a great war chief sustained many wounds, the box soaking up his blood and giving him strength to continue and win his battle.
Below it, on a wooden stand, rested the war pipe, a heavy thing made of stone and carved into the shape of Morning Star as he knelt over a dead enemy and severed the man’s head. Into its back a large hole had been bored for the bowl. The long wooden stem, carved into interwoven serpents with pearls for eyes, sat just below on a raccoon skin.
Flying Hawk turned to the men. “Is there any man among you who is not ready for war?”
Smoke Shield replied first. “I am pure of heart, and am prepared.”
One by one, the others repeated his words.
Flying Hawk nodded, then walked to the altar, kneeling. “Bless us, great Spirits of war. What has been wronged must be set right. Hear the cries of our dead, calling for justice. The White Arrow Chahta have attacked our relatives and spilled their blood upon the dirt. They have broken the harmony of Power. Chaos—you who have been let loose—aid us now. Flow through us. Strengthen our hearts.”
From a box beside the altar, he shook out tobacco and carefully tamped it into the great pipe’s bowl, using a wooden pestle so as not to touch the sacred leaf. Lifting the heavy stone bowl, he placed it on the hard-packed red clay floor and carefully inserted the long stem. Then, he nodded to Smoke Shield.
With great solemnity, Smoke Shield rose from the bench and stepped to the pipe stem. Taking it in his mouth, he watched Flying Hawk light a twig in the fire and hold it over the bowl.
As Smoke Shield puffed, Flying Hawk stood, raising his hands to the warriors. “You are about to attempt a most daring thing. We have been unjustly attacked. Our people are at risk. There is no time to call additional warriors from the hunt. Everything rests on you. Do you understand?”
Smoke Shield grunted assent as he exhaled blue smoke and watched it rise toward the high ceiling. As he stepped aside, Blood Skull, who would be his second, took the pipe stem and sucked. At the same time, Smoke Shield stepped over, touching his medicine pouch to the war medicine box. “Bless me with courage and skill. Grant me cunning and the ability to outwit my enemies.” Then he hung the small bundle around his neck.
He stepped aside as Blood Skull touched his medicine pouch to the war medicine and asked for its blessing.
As the warriors, one by one, smoked from the war pipe and touched their medicine to the cedar box, Flying Hawk told them, “In all of our history, none of our Ancestors has been called upon to attempt so daring an attack. The White Arrow do not expect you. They will be comfortable, happy, and lax in their vigilance. Their thoughts are only centered on this marriage, not on our attack. But you must be wary. You must sneak through the forest as silently as cougars on the hunt. You must be as keen-eyed as a hawk, and see before you are seen. Like wolves, you must not sleep, but be eternally vigilant. I warn you, do not be too eager. Do not take a single scalp just because you find some solitary Chahta along the trail, but avoid him. Remember the greater purpose of your attack. It is up to you to pass unnoticed.”
He glanced at Smoke Shield. “My nephew, cunning as the raccoon, has told you his plan. You will not travel as warriors, but as hunters. You will not wear your finery, but simple hunting shirts. Your shields will be cased in fabric sacks to look like burdens of food. When you walk, it will not be as warriors, but as simple hunters, returning with a bounty for the wedding feast.
“You will approach from the north, acting and talking like some Chahta from distant places. Avoid conversations. Say only that you are in a hurry to bear your catch to White Arrow Town.
“You will time your arrival until just after dark. In the darkness, you will enter White Arrow Town and find a house close to their palace. Inside, you will quietly kill the occupants, and only then will you uncase your shields, war clubs, and don your warrior’s clothes. But I warn you, do not take time with vanity. The Chahta will not care that your faces are not perfectly painted.”
Nervous laughter erupted from the warriors.
Flying Hawk used his hands to still them. “I know it will be hard. But subdue your passions until that moment when you burst from the house and climb the steps to the palace, and then you may let your furies loose. At that moment, scream like a thousand demons. Your job is to frighten the enemy, run through them like red wolves among quail. Instill fear and panic, and they will flee, thinking themselves overrun by overwhelming numbers. In the darkness, they will not know. Do you understand?”