Lozen - The Warrior Shaman

Enter now to win a copy of

Soldier, Sister, Spy, Scout Women Soldiers and Patriots on the Western Frontier

“Lozen is my right hand . . . strong as a man, braver than most, and cunning in strategy. Lozen is a shield to her people.” —Apache war chief Victorio, June 1880

The Apache leader known as Geronimo stood near an overhanging cliff in the Chiricahua Mountains of Arizona studying the terrain before him. His keen eye traveled across the rocks and valley below. It was unlikely the US cavalry would track the fugitive into the rocky stronghold, but Geronimo didn’t like to underestimate the army’s tenacity. A band of thirty-six loyal warriors surrounded the courageous renegade, ready to defend their lives and land should the military be in the immediate area and dare attack the party. Geronimo fixed his gaze on a distant plateau and lifted his voice to the sky. “We have suffered much from the unjust orders of US generals,” he said. “Such acts have caused much distress to my people. We will defend what is ours to the last man.”

A cold stillness hung in the air—a sense of impending calamity marking the beginning of the end of a race of people. Suddenly all eyes turned to an unassuming medicine woman stepping out of a cave in a massive pile of lava rocks. She walked over to an outcropping of stone and bowed her head. Geronimo watched with great interest as Lozen stretched her arms out and turned her palms to the heavens. She was petite and plain, her skin as supple as leather and her manner of dress in keeping with the other warriors. She scanned the horizon as the braves waited. They dared not make a move without Lozen’s wise council. It was her divine power that had kept Geronimo and his followers out of harm’s way for so long. Without her ability to detect the enemy’s nearing presence, the Apaches would have perished.

For close to a year, Geronimo’s desperate band of braves eluded US Army scouts. These few Natives were the last of the free Apache—stubborn holdouts who refused to surrender, be forced from their land, and be placed on a reservation. Many believed it was better to die like warriors than live off the scraps like dogs from the emigrants they referred to as “white eyes.” Lozen honored the beliefs of her people and used her gift to keep the “white eyes” at bay. Geronimo watched Lozen tightly close her eyes.

A gust of wind swept over her small frame, tossing about her straight, dark hair. “Can you tell me if the soldiers are near?” he asked quietly. “I can,” she replied. She stood in silence for a moment, her arms further extended, her hands slightly cupped. “The god Ussen has given me this power . . . it is good, as he is good,” she exclaimed.