Edge of the Wilderness - By Stephanie Grace Whitson Page 0,3

bent down and scooped up a handful of snow. After taking a mouthful, Daniel swiped his face with the rest of it in an attempt to shake off the last vestiges of his dream about Blue Eyes. Snow was filling his moccasins, numbing his ankles and feet.

To the men’s surprise, Jensen was leading them to the gate. Two Stars had not spoken English in weeks, and he made little effort now to understand what was being said when Jensen talked to the guard at the gate. Whatever was happening probably meant nothing good for either he or Robert. He glanced behind him at the fenced compound, squinting his eyes and trying to imagine winter camp. The wind shifted and blew the smell of the place at him. He looked down and saw the snow blow away from the faces of two more bodies stacked next to the gate. Any imaginings about winter camp disappeared.

Jensen shoved him ahead, pointing to a two-story stone building just across the street from the prison lot. The men were welcomed inside by a blast of warm air. Someone had fired up a small stove in the center of the large, nearly bare room. Whatever happened, Daniel hoped he would be here long enough to get next to the stove. He had almost forgotten what it was like to be warm.

Three other Dakota men were sitting on the floor near the stove. Jensen stepped back outside without a word. Daniel and Robert hobbled over and sat next to a half-starved brave about Daniel’s age. To the question in Daniel’s eyes, the brave only shrugged.

Voices sounded at the door. Jensen swore loudly. “You can’t be serious! Whose idea was that?!”

When he saw, who Jensen was yelling at, Daniel nudged Robert. “I thought he died up at Fort Snelling.”

“Rumors,” Robert whispered back. “We know nothing except rumors.” His voice trembled with emotion as he looked toward Sacred Lodge.

Sacred Lodge crossed the room toward them. He paused and put his hand on Robert’s shoulder. “It is good to see my old friend is well,” he said, shaking Robert’s hand. He nodded at Daniel. “I was glad to know you were not hanged. They had your name on the list.” Daniel felt a chill go through him as Sacred Lodge turned away without waiting for his reply.

Walking to the center of the half-circle where the men sat waiting, the brave began to speak. He was middle-aged, lean but powerfully built, and he spoke with the quiet confidence of a man accustomed to leading, accustomed to being followed. Every man in the room knew the history of this half-breed raised by his full-blooded stepfather. Sacred Lodge could have escaped to the north and avoided all the trouble when the uprising began. Instead, he remained, unifying the peaceful Dakota by organizing a soldiers’ lodge for peace, gathering and protecting white captives in his camp. Because of his extraordinary actions, General Sibley had offered to let Sacred Lodge return to his farm near the now destroyed Lower Agency. But Sacred Lodge would not leave his Dakota brothers. Instead of returning home, he had gone to Fort Snelling, willingly suffering with them. The prisoners at Mankato had been told Sacred Lodge died there. But here he was, dressed in a soldier’s jacket adorned with extra brass buttons, sporting a black hat decorated with feathers.

To Daniel’s surprise, Brady Jensen remained by the door, his arms folded across his chest while Sacred Lodge took charge of the meeting.

Everyone present had heard Sacred Lodge’s voice ring with the proud authority of a Dakota chief, but today his tone was gentle and persuasive. “In the end of the Deer Rutting Moon,” he began, “I went to General Sibley. I had heard that when the weather is warm again, the army will go after the hostiles who have escaped to the north. I was concerned for my peaceful brothers who are still wandering around the country. I told General Sibley that if he would let me, I would choose worthy Dakota men to go out as scouts and convince these friendly Dakota to come in where they will be safe.”

Big Amos tried to say something, but Sacred Lodge motioned for him to be silent as he continued. “I said we would also help the army chase down any hostiles still in this territory. And I told the general that when the warm moons come these scouts could lead him to the camps of the warring Sioux.” He paused, taking