Spotted Tail must have told Little Thunder of his decision privately, but he never mentioned it otherwise, not even within the lodge. In the way that village people have, everyone knew, and whispered about it. Some of the men muttered disputatiously. “I wouldn’t do that,” said one. “Let the Wasp buzz all he wants,” agreed his friend. “We will fight.” Other men bragged the same way under their breath. “Lakota men do not give up their lives because a wasicu says so.” They cast at each other dark looks that meant, “Lakota die as warriors—we do not submit to being hanged by the neck.” “Let’s go kill Harney,” several grumbled. But everyone remembered what White Wing had said in the council lodge. The Wasp had promised to sting any village of Lakota he could find, hostile or peaceful, sting them anywhere, anytime, sting women and children as well as men. Everyone would suffer until the five men who attacked the mail coach surrendered themselves. And the Wasp had said that if the Lakota killed him, The One They Used for Father, the President of the United States, would send ten more armies, or a hundred more armies, until the Lakota obeyed and gave up the five offenders.
