After Ohitika dropped me back at the camp, I first went to the creek and washed my face. The cool, clear water was good for my overheated skin. I immediately felt fresher, but the pressure on my chest hadn't gone away. I was plagued by guilt over the dead chestnut mare, but there was something else too. The knowledge of the Lakota's future weighed on my soul, and I didn't know if I should—if I should—talk to Ohitika to influence his decision. Several young men stood in groups between the tents and discussed, probably about the planned expedition. If I did something, it had to be done soon.
I decided to ask someone I trusted for advice and strolled over to Tatanka Wakon's tent. I hadn't been to see him for a few weeks—not since I could reasonably communicate in Lakota myself. But I missed the way he explained the way of life of his people with wisdom and wit. Once, too, he gently rebuked me. That was after the horse races, when I dared to intervene and speak to the chief without being asked. But I never felt like he was judging me. I could only feel kindness and understanding from him.
Tatanka Wakon sat cross-legged in front of his tipi, painting a buffalo skin shield with a sharpened stick dipped in a bowl of paint. A buffalo hide blanket slung over one shoulder while the other was left bare, revealing his sinewy, bony arm.
"Grandfather," I addressed him respectfully. "I need your advice." It might not have been polite to blunder in like that, but I didn't think he held it against me.
His eyes squinted up at me against the sun, deepening the lines even more. He made an inviting gesture with his free arm. "Sit down, my daughter."
The title 'daughter' created a warm feeling in my chest. I looked around indecisively. Here, in the middle of the tent village, was not exactly the place for a private conversation. Children played nearby with marbles and the carved wooden figures of bearded Tom. Women hung strips of meat over stretched lines to dry in the sun, or did other work. But no one really seemed to pay attention to us, so it would be fine.
I watched the medicine man for a while as he skillfully drew the outline of an eagle in the center of the circular shield.
"Tatanka Wakon," I then began, choosing my words carefully. "If you had secrets no one else knows...how do you know whether to keep them or share them?"
Tatanka Wakon's expression didn't change, but he put his work down and considered. It was obvious that he took my question seriously even though I was just a girl. "Secrets of what kind?" he finally asked.
"Secrets about the future. Knowledge of something that hasn't happened yet..." I replied hesitantly.
He nodded. "Sometimes Wakan Tanka, the Great Spirit, sends me visions and dreams about the future," he said slowly. "That's why people come to me; to know what the future holds for them. Many winters ago, when I was a When I was a young man, having just finished my Secret Man training, a mother came to see me, wanting to know if her son, who was about to go on the warpath against the Crow, would return to her in good health, and promised me her husband's best horse , if I could predict her future. So I performed the rituals. I fasted, prayed and drummed for days, until finally I had a dream.In it I saw the whole group of warriors, including her son, like her, pale and silent lay on the ground."

He paused and looked down at the half-painted shield. I patiently waited for him to continue.
“The young warrior's mother and father told their son about my dream, and he in turn told his companions. They held a council and finally decided to go anyway."
"Even though they knew what was coming?" I couldn't help but ask the question.
Tatanka Wakon's eyes smiled slightly, although his face remained serious. "The arrogance of youth. We all believe that we can play a trick on fate. These young men wanted to take precautions so that my vision would not come true. They believed that the knowledge would even strengthen them in their project. In fact, they were victorious in fighting the Crow and stole many horses from them. And on the way back to our camp, they imagined how they would be received. How everyone would congratulate them for fighting despite the prediction, for facing death and yet dodging it. They were only a day's ride from our village when they stopped before the sun had even reached the western horizon. They felt weak and tired, so they lay down on the ground to rest. The following night they all felt terribly bad. They vomited and could hardly resist crouching in the bushes. They became weaker and sicker and could not even drag themselves to our village. Only when one of the horses broke free and came to our herd did we start looking for them. We found them all lying still and pale on the ground, just like in my vision." Only when one of the horses broke free and came to our herd did we start looking for them. We found them all lying still and pale on the ground, just like in my vision." Only when one of the horses broke free and came to our herd did we start looking for them. We found them all lying still and pale on the ground, just like in my vision."
I put a hand over my mouth. "You were dead?"
Tatanka Wakon nodded gravely. “Many in the village believed that Wakan Tanka had punished them with an illness for going against his will. But I do know that the Crow also had this disease — for we heard much later that their village had fallen into devastation. Perhaps it was an illness brought upon her by the Vashishou. Anyway; this event made me understand that we can never fully predict the future. We may see bits of it but never the whole picture, and we may misinterpret it. What is destined to happen will happen. If Wakan Tanka wanted the future to be visible to everyone, everyone would know it. But only a few people become mystery men and receive visions. And therein lies a great responsibility.
I swallowed and thought about it. He was probably right. It didn't matter what I did. Whether I was telling him or Ohitika or all the Lakota here what the future held for them. It wouldn't change anything. The story would still take its course. And I should focus on getting back into my own time before I had the opportunity to change the past in a way that might not be possible anymore.
"Do you think," I asked, "that the Lakota warriors can drive out the Vashishou like they say they can?"
Tatanka Wakon set the finished buffalo shield aside to let the paint dry and wiped her fingers on a leather cloth. "It would be against the soul of the Lakota if they didn't try," he said simply.
I sighed and nodded.
"Thank you, grandfather." I stood up.
He smiled his somewhat toothless smile. "Your Lakota turned out very well, my daughter. Is that why you don't stop by my tent as often?"
I smiled too. "I'll visit you more often if I may."
Then I hurried back to my teepee. It was empty, the opportunity was favorable. Wihinapa was probably just gathering wood and Ohitika back to the rest of the hunt. I stoked the fire in the fireplace and pulled my book out of my backpack. Heart pounding, I turned to the pages that covered the full history of the Sioux. I scanned them again. It said how, after the introduction of the horse to North America, the Sioux had spread westward across the prairies, pushing back and taking over other tribes like the Crow and Pawnee. Then the whites had come and wanted to take the land that now belonged to the Sioux. They signed contracts that they broke again and again because the settlers pushed into the country and the prospectors wanted to try their luck.
I began carefully prying out one page at a time and held them in the flames. They quickly caught fire. I watched as the paper was eaten by the fire until it sailed gently down in black shreds and settled in the embers.

That evening I sat in the tent with Wihinapa and we both waited for Ohitika to return. He was at the meeting of the warriors who wanted to go on the warpath. I kept thinking about the story Tatanka Wakon had told me and had a hard time concentrating on imitating what Wihinapa was showing me. She wanted to teach me how to crochet with porcupine quills and I agreed, mostly as a favor to her. But today nothing worked. Frustrated, I put the leather piece aside to practice.
"It is too dark. I can't quite see what I'm doing." That was just an excuse. The fire crackled happily and we sat not far from it. But Wihinapa, patient as ever, said nothing and went on with her own work.
I sighed. "Do you think he'll go?"
"Ohitika? He has never shied away from fighting when it was necessary. But he's not easy."
"So the question is, is it necessary this time..."
Wihinapa nodded absently. Perhaps she was also thinking of Sihahanska.
"If you were to move out, wouldn't you warn me?" I suddenly asked.
She raised her head. "What makes you think I'm moving out?"
"You're old enough to get married," I said. Or so, according to Lakota custom, she was, although I didn't see it that way at all. She was only seventeen, soon to be eighteen, like me.
"Don't talk about such things," she said, embarrassed. "I belong here."
But that still didn't calm me down. "What about Sihahanska?"
Her busy fingers made a mistake and struggled to correct it. "I wouldn't want to leave Ohitika," she murmured. "He's taken care of me since our parents died." She looked at me. "And you... I wouldn't want to leave you."
I smiled, but my smile soon faded when Wihinapa asked, "But if you married Ohitika, then I could..."
"What, me?" I interrupted her. "No, no, no. No. I'm not getting married."
Her eyes widened. "Never?"
"Maybe someday," I conceded. "But not now."
She cocked her head, suddenly resembling her brother. "Don't you like him?" she asked innocently.
"I don't know." I picked up my embroidery work again, which I had put aside, and struggled to position the bristles to sew them on. As I did, I caught Wihinapa watching me. " He's always treated me well. But... we're too different," I said. "And I always make mistakes."
"You make him angry, sometimes," Wihinapa admitted. "It's good for him."
I looked at her in surprise.
She winked at me. "A woman who always obeys him would not be for him. i know my brother He loves a challenge, even if he wouldn't admit it."
I had to laugh and Wihinapa laughed with me. So she was just kidding me because I teased her about Sihahanska yesterday too. Of course, she couldn't really mean that Ohitika was considering me as a woman. A challenge, yes, I was sure. But not anymore.
Our conversation was interrupted when Ohitika came in. We both looked at him intently, although we knew he would only tell us something if he wanted to. To my astonishment, however, he sat down right next to us and began bluntly: "I won't go with the warriors this time."
My heart jumped. "Why not?" I asked hesitantly.
"Because I promised Malie to look for the cave you came from after the buffalo hunt. Ohitika keeps his word. heap We leave as soon as the spoils have been processed and we are back at our winter camp in the Che-Sapa."