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 “Well.”
Uncle Ned let the suspense build for a moment. “Lets see. It being
Saturday . . . why I do believe Ellie’ll be frying chicken and
baking ―” After licking his lips, Yellow Cloud said, “Say no more.
Have Ellie set another plate. And after we eat some fine cookin’,
I’ll tell you children about Brings Rain.” Annie clapped her hands
and broke out in a smile big as a crescent moon.
“Now child,” Uncle said, “you best be going up to the house; you’ll
be needin’ a bath early today. Joey run along with your sister and
tell Ellie to expect company for supper.”
After supper Uncle Ned and Yellow Cloud retired to the front porch
and commenced smoking their pipes and talking about the drought, all
the while ignoring Annie and me, who were hanging onto both men’s
every word. I could tell Annie was growing impatient when she began
to explore her nose. I nudged her and pretended to do likewise,
which served to move her to action. She tugged on Yellow Cloud’s
shirt sleeve and quietly said, “Mr. Yellow Cloud, you promised to
tell us about the little girl.” With a sly grin, he replied, “So I
did. So I did.” Annie then pulled her stool so close to Yellow Cloud
I figured he’d let go another war cry, but instead he patted her
gently atop the head and continued, “Let me begin at the end. She
was eight years old when she passed over back in ’96.”
Annie exclaimed, “She was the same age as me. That is so sad.”
Yellow Cloud nodded, “She and her brother Jonathan
had been playing in the meadow by the willow. She wandered off. When
Jonathan went to fetch her, he found her face down in the creek.
From the bruise on her temple and the large, half-submerged rock
nearby, we figured she’d fallen, been knocked unconscious, and
drowned.”
Annie said, “I fell in the creek too, but I didn’t drown.”
I mumbled, “To bad.” Uncle Ned shot me that look of disapproval.
Yellow Cloud tossed a knowing glance at Annie and said, “We thank
the Great Spirit you were not injured.”
“Why is she buried out there by herself?” Annie asked.
“Wiyanna,” Yellow Cloud said, “the answer to that is near the end of
the story. So, hold tight. You see the little girl’s father, Mr.
Cooper, had lost his job out in Ohio, so the family loaded what
belongings they could get in their prairie schooner and headed to
the Oklahoma Territory for the land rush.”
“What’s a land rush?” Annie asked in her mouse voice.
We’d studied that in history just before school
let out, so with the answer still fresh on my lips, I blurted, “I
know. I know.” Yellow Cloud gestured for me to explain it to Annie.
“The Oklahoma Territory wanted to become a state, but there weren’t
enough people, so to encourage folks to settle the government
decided to give land away and on April 22, 1889, thousands of
settlers some in wagons, some on horseback, some walking, and some
even riding bicycles nervously awaited to stake a claim. Finally,
after several ‘sooners’ who’d tried to sneak across the line early
had been shot, the starting gun sounded at twelve noon. A RACE FOR
LAND SUCH AS WAS NEVER BEFORE WITNESSED ON EARTH, as one newspaper
put it.” Uncle Ned shot me a look of approval. The look I got from
Annie on the other hand simply said she wanted to shoot me.
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Yellow Cloud said, “Why Joey you know more about it
than I do.” I looked at Annie and puffed my chest in pride. She
glared. Yellow Cloud continued, “The Cooper family didn’t make it to
the Territory that year or the next. It was during the drought of
’88 that the family was forced to layover in Oraville. You see, Mrs.
Cooper was large with life, and the long difficult trip had caused
her to go into labor a might early. Her baby wanted to be free, a
quality about Brings Rain that never changed from the time she came
screaming into this world on that scorching summer afternoon ‘til
the day the Great Spirit took her away.
“Mr. Cooper stopped his wagon in front of the livery stable and
asked your Uncle Ned’s father, Andrew―who was my boss―where the town
doctor could be found. Andrew informed him Doc Johnson was away on a
fishing trip, but Mrs. Fitzsimmons had delivered dozens of babies.
So while I went to fetch the midwife, Andrew showed Mr. Cooper where
to take his wife, which was where I bunked.”
“When Mrs. Fitzsimmons arrived first thing she said was, ‘Harrison
don’t you know cleanliness is next to godliness?’ I told her,
‘Horses don’t seem to mind.’ Then she told me to sweep the room out
because she couldn’t be delivering a baby in all that squalor. I
didn’t take it personal what with her insulting me. White people
worry about dirt more than Indians. I believe that’s why they take
sick more than we do. Anyway about four that afternoon the little
girl, screaming like a lion protecting her young, slipped into this
world. What with her being born with a caul, the wiyanna was special
out of the chute.”
Annie, looking curious, asked, “Yellow Cloud, what’s
a caul?”
“I am glad you asked because it is an important part of the story. A
caul is like a clear sack or balloon that is sometimes found around
a baby’s head when it is born. Some believe a child born with one
brings good luck. She was christened Annie.”
“That’s my name,” Annie yelped. I shushed her. Yellow Cloud again
shot her that knowing look.
“Later that evening the sky clouded over,” Yellow Cloud said, “and
during the night it broke loose with the sweetest drops anyone could
ever remember. It rained lightly for days. The ground was so thirsty
water didn’t have time to stand. All the folks in the valley heard
about the little girl born with the caul, and most believed her
birth was a sign for the clouds to let go their precious cargo.
[By Henry Dewes]
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