Morning Victory, Lonely Nights

by Jeff D. Willoughby

 

Tall valleys were so ominous in Utah that traveling thru one seemed right into the same one. Over- and over again. Where the mind could wonder, it will just keep going around in circles. In Hell, forever?

 

Great New Mexico, with its’ cool nights and California like days; and its’ vast stretches of flat like desert and distinct small round bushes spanning it. And Utah, being similar but instead of bushes, larger plants like short spanning forests; the mint green or lime color, and pine colored trees. It’s moments of sand but then again, clusters of plant life. Its shorter lasting winds, and shorter storms. The winter coming in October or November towards 30 or 20 degrees Fahrenheit, and only ending by May or June. Key winter months, December and January, a waking temperature of 6 degrees. 15 degrees having been said enough to kill a person unless to shelter.

 

The night was black and dark blue, the stars keen, and cold. The quiet was deadening and the two Chero Inteh Indians slept under furs hidden by the start up a steep hill, aside clusters of plants and a few taller trees. The shadows on the darker pine and brown further provided a world its own. For a few hours.

 

As the birds were chirping awake with the morning, the Indians too were more present due to the cool wind and the slow sun warmth. In hours, warmth would befriend their riding, to a village one quarter day west; protected by a gully. Thought to have needed goods and women. And also, a child or two. The straggler Indian/informant a week before had by accident spoke of the small village he was on way to himself to steal by night. That by low activity and fire smoke and past patterns of the small tribe in question, the village likely would be light with people; most being gone to prepare by winter means of moving in warmer season.

 

On time enough, the two Chero Inteh were in gaze of the village-should one be able to see through the range at front it was thought located. Once over that ridge, the attack would most likely, not have a way to reverse. 2-3 other tribe Indians were spaced over the 2nd ridge; over which and visibly, the village could be got.

 

Using their horses as shields their approach and slaying with spears of the outer Indian members was not exhausting. Past the 2nd lower ridge, they began phase two as it was, towards 3 ‘Ordo Edeh’ Indians; one, tied his horse outward, the other kept his horse inwards further towards the Ordo, the other charging distanced changeably behind him on the horse.

 

To the far right, Arit ey distracted that end’s Ordo with his horse dotting off and past arrows, while the Indian on foot behind got to the first Ordo and killed him extremely aggressively and decisively with a hatchet. Meash ey, began towards the middle defender while Arit ey sped his horse towards the left end defender and his bow and arrows.

 

The middle Ordo's weapon like the others at the village was the bow and arrow. Meash ey had been prepared by using his like weapon. Certain to take the defender with few fierce arrows, his bow gave trouble, affecting his aim and confidence, and before a shot- the Ordo Edeh had started hitting him well with 2, maybe three strong arrow penetrations. Nonetheless, Meash ey was able just enough, to slay the Ordo with his hatchet before falling into certain delayed death himself.

 

Meanwhile, the left end bow and arrow Indian struggled with the horse postured attacker who eventually got the village member with a spear. Retaining his horse that remained basically unwounded.

 

Quiet came back over the place. The working dust and grimaces and unseemly sweat, and dog like adrenaline of it all was still cold wind now.

 

An older village woman had no choice but to continue scurrying her tasks with watching the only child present- an infant. And by her, 2 beautiful young native women; looking on, near passively having paused from their work at the onset of the battle.

 

Meash ey gazed at the eyes of the girls. Long seconds passed. A sky sweeping overcast had stopped short halfway in. In moments, it had passed overhead and the entire vast sky visible, was overcast with heavy dark grey clouds. And the wind and cold. He instantly turned his attention to any goods he could stuff into the bags with his horse. Like it hadn’t happened, that day- he was gone. A morning of victory. Lonely nights.

 

References

Native American Weaponry. (2025, July 18). In Wikipedia.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Native_American_Weaponry

 

HOKC. (2023,Nov 2). Tribe vs. Tribe: 5 of the Most Vicious Intertribal Battles in History [video]. Youtube.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UCC3oSZRSQY

 

Cuch, Forest S. (Ed.). (2000). A History of Utah’s American Indians. Utah Division of Indian Affairs and the Utah Division of State History.