Chief Joseph (War Chiefs) [Mass Market Paperback]

Bill Dugan (Author)

Book Description

Publication Date: April 15, 1992 | Series: War Chiefs (Book 2)

A fictional account of the Nez Perce Indians follows Chief Joseph as he gathers his people and flees to Sitting Bull's refuge in Canadian Blackfeet territory, where he becomes engaged in his final, legendary battle at Bear Paw. Reissue."

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Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Clearwater River Valley--1805

It was September, and the camas fields were ready to be harvested. The long stems, their flowers now faded, were through waving at the sky like so many blue fingers. The lakes were starting to change, their deep blue and blue-green waters taking on the grays of autumn. Already, the high passes through the Bitterroots were clogged with early snow. The men, most of them, were gone, eastward through the mountains to the buffalo grounds of Montana and south across the Blue Mountains to punish the Bannocks for a raid on the horse herds. They would not be back until the spring, maybe even the late summer.

Sometimes the hunts lasted for eighteen months and sometimes they lasted for years. While the warriors were gone, the Nez Perce camps belonged to the women and children, a handful of old men, and a few warriors. But there was little to fear. The Blackfeet would not try the passes until the spring. The Shoshone were, if not friendly, at least distant, content to stay to the south, except during trading season, when they needed horses or the camas cakes and salmon the Nez Perce had to trade. And the Bannocks were on the run, with Broken Arm in hot pursuit. Secure in their homelands, the Nez Perce could pay attention to the only business that mattered, getting enough food to see them through the winter and tending to the huge herds of spotted horses.

Tu-eka-kas, like the other boys, would help, but not just yet. His mother was already in the camas field, poking the soft earth with a sharp stick to turn over the fat, fleshy tubers one by one. He was supposed to be helping, but he was late. Still, he was often late, and his mother would not yet be worried.

Squatting in a stand of pines, watching the cold, clear water of the creek tumble over the stones, sucking in the pine-scented air, he realized there were too many things to distract him. Since he was not yet ten, work was still optional for him, and as long as he helped a little, no one would pay much attention to how much.

Something darted out from behind a rock in the water, something brown, probably a trout, he thought. Moving closer, leaning over the fast-moving brook, he reached down into the water. It was cold, and made his fingers feel stiff, as if they had turned to stone. The brook bottom was sandy, dotted with stones the size of his fist, the size of his father's fist, and even larger. Not much sun made it through the trees, but the occasional splotches of light made it even more difficult to see. The trout took advantage of the shade. He saw it again, darting from one rock to another, even larger. It stayed almost motionless, its fins moving just enough to keep it in place against the cold current.

He was leaning out now, canting his head, trying to look through the gloss of light that came and went whenever the wind swayed the crowns of the tall pines. When the gun went off, he lost his balance and fell on one knee into the cold water.

Blackfeet, he thought. It must be. They got guns from the east, from the Sioux and the Hidatsa. But if the Blackfeet had come over the mountains, it could be for only one reason--a raid. And most of the warriors were gone.

Tu-eka-kas scrambled out of the creek, ignoring the chilly water still trickling down his legs, ignoring the numbness that made his legs feel wooden and useless.

He looked up the slope, trying to see through the dense ranks of the pines, but he saw nothing unusual. He had to find out who had fired the gun. He started up the mountainside, using the larger pines for cover. With the movement, feeling returned to his water-numbed limbs, and he realized he was breathing hard, harder than the zigzagging run required. With a shock, he understood what it was-it was fear, an intense fear he hadn't felt for many years.

He stopped now, trying to put his thoughts in order. They were all confused, tangled in the clinging threads of his fear that covered them like vines, made them hard to move, hard to sort out.

There had been only the one shot, and it made him wonder what the target had been. If a war party of Blackfeet had stumbled on some of his people, there would have been more than one shot. He would have heard war cries, too, horrible yelps and howls that would have thickened his bloodand made his heart stop. But after the gunshot, its echo had slowly faded away. And the silence had returned. Now all he could hear was the slowly receding muttering of the brook as he left it behind, and the scratch of breath in his throat. Leaning close to a large pine, wrapping his arms around it for a moment, he could hear the beating of his heart, a distant thunder in his ears. He could feel the throbbing in his chest, like a small fist pounding on his rib cage, something trying to get out.

He realized that the birds had fallen silent. For a moment he thought they had gone, then he looked up and saw them, perched on their limbs, their heads cocked, listening. He cocked his own head, as if in imitation, but could hear nothing but the brook.

Taking a deep breath, he started up the mountainside again, taking care now to let the thick carpet of needles cushion the fall of his moccasins. His hands were trembling. His mind, ordinarily so active, could concentrate on only one thing. In its eye he saw a gargantuan Blackfoot warrior, blood dripping from his lips and from the gore-darkened blade in his right hand.

Product Details

• Mass Market Paperback: 320 pages
• Publisher: HarperTorch (April 15, 1992)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 0061003883
• ISBN-13: 978-0061003882
• Product Dimensions: 6.7 x 4.2 x 0.9 inches
• Shipping Weight: 5.6 ounces
• Average Customer Review: 1.0 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (1 customer review)
• Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #2,302,623 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)

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3 of 8 people found the following review helpful:

1.0 out of 5 stars "Impeccably researched"?, October 8, 1998

By A Customer

This review is from: Chief Joseph (War Chiefs) (Mass Market Paperback)

The back cover of this book says it is "impeccably researched". The first few chapters alone have several facts wrong. Maybe the most serious breach of fact is the statement that the Nez Perce got their name because they pierced their noses. The book may be well researched but it does not show in the story telling.