Into the West

The last frontier known as the Wild West was coming to an end, the county was becoming smaller for every settler that stepped pasted the Rock Mountains. The great tribes that once ran across the tall grassy plains on their horses chasing the buffalo now moved place to place. More died as they walked a long the trail of the white man, but some still kept on fighting…

The loud cry of Indian warriors could be heard across the grassy plains. They shot arrows into the sky that fell to the earth cutting whatever form of matter they hit. The soldiers below had little to defeat themselves with their single shot rifles some piled the dead horses side by side to use has a wall to protect themselves from the oncoming natives. They came closer and closer. Some of the soldiers ran in fear while others faced their death. As the riders came a upon them willing their battle axes in the air, leaping over the wall of rotting horse flesh. Two fell from their mounts as the soldier’s bullets pierced their chests. The third scalped off the head a young major before another soldier had fired at him.
         
After all the bullets fired and the arrows shot all the cavalry fell dead along with a few warriors beside them. The remaining warriors cheered for their victory over the white man and the victory of regaining their land but it would not last forever.

The small black foot Indian girl stood silently as her mother choked and gagged lying on the soft green grass of the warm spring day. The mother watched as the white fluffy clouds slowly passed her by. She reached over and clutched her daughter’s hand, “Child listen to what I’m going to tell you.” She choked red blood and spit, it landed on  the child’s hand. She didn’t wipe it away. “You must find safe places to hide the white men are coming, these will not be like the last one’s we saw. These white men kill and destroy everything in their path.” The mother breathed deeply, “Remember Little Hawk I will always love you.” She whispered, and then her hand slipped from the child’s arm and fell to the ground.

“Mom…”

Little Hawk finished laying the spring flowers on her mother’s grave.  She raised her hands in the air and began chanting the ancient words of her ancestors, wishing her mother a safe journey into the afterlife. Then she bowed her head, her hair as black as a raven’s wings flowed over the flowers like tiny rivers connected to the vast sea.

With her mother Little Hawk didn’t know what to do she wondered across the green grass plains over the mountains and into the mist forest of the far west.

This place was strange water was everywhere it clutched the trees like a newborn baby to its mother. Little Hawk knew she was running out of food and she would have to find a place of shelter for the night. She grasped onto her horse’s mane kicking the horse forward into a gallop. The horse raced though the woods the animal became a gray blur against the hazy backdrop the forest. Leaving only hoof prints behind, Little Hawk held her arms out into the wind and howled like a wolf as the horse jumped over logs and fallen down trees.  She smiled, as the horse slowed to a stop, in front of her was a horrible scene two white girl about Little Hawk’s age. The girls blue eyes widened, as did Little Hawk’s brown eyes. The white girls let out a scream as Little Hawk’s horse reared and turned running as fast as its legs could run. Little Hawk glanced behind as two other horses galloped into her view carrying two white men.  The men’s horses snored furiously their legs shaking the ground as ripped up the wet grass.  Little Hawk saw one of the bullets zoom pass her hitting a tree.

“I’ll get her!” One of the men shouted, he reloaded his firearm. He held the weapon up to his shoulder and fired the bullet hit Little Hawk’s horse. The bullet broke the horse’s rear leg, throwing Little Hawk in the thick part of the forest. Red liquid ran down her face and onto her clothes, she stumbled up as one of the white men galloped toward her. She ran though the woods then her soaked feet slipped on a rock. Little Hawk fell hitting her head again the last thing she heard was a gun firing before all was black.

When Little Hawk awoke she felt her face blooded and bruised her hands tried behind her onto a woodened post.

“How do you like that now Indian?”  The man spoke; he picked up his firearm and pointed the barrel into Little Hawk’s face. The girls face grew angry as she growled and showed her teeth at the man. He curled his upper lip in disgust, “Well if that’s how you want to be.” His finger touched the hammer on the gun slowly pulling it backwards.

“John!” A woman called from inside cabin, “Quit messing with that Indian and come and eat!”

The man’s eye narrowed, “I’ll be back for you later.” He turned and left.

Night fell Little Hawk could see the stars shining though the black sky; she looked toward the cabin and saw a young man on a horse ride up to the house. He mounted off the horse and whispered something in its ear, the animal’s ear moved forward. He gave the horse a pat and walked toward the house. Before one foot stepped into the cabin he stopped and stared at the Indian girl. Then his footsteps faded into the house.

She noticed a mount of dirt at the far end of the house by the corral of horses. The horses reared and whinnied, their eyes wild filled with fear. Little Hawk’s eyes saw pass the mount of dirt she saw what lay beyond it…her horse. He lay there one of legs twisted across the other. The white man must have shot him, after he captured me she thought. The overall cause was a broken leg.

Little Hawk could feel her eyes fill with tears the salt droplets ran down her face like a river that flowed though a forest.
The once soft wind that carried her raven black hair carried the stench of rioting horse flesh.

She turned her head, not willing to look at the horse any longer.

John threw another log on the fire before headed back to his dinner plate. “What’s your reason of traveling so far?” He asked the young man.

The young man bowed his head and removed his hat. His blonde-brown hair reflected off the warm glow of the fire. “That Indian girl you have…I would like to have her.”          

John stopped chewing, “My girls found that savage racing though the woods on a horse.” His knife sliced though the meat that lay on his plate. “Tomorrow I’m going to take her to the reservation she can be dealt with there.” He started chewing again. “What do ya’ want with her?”

“When I was on the trail with my uncle we meet some Indians I believe that, that girl out there is her.”

John laughed. . “Boy you know those Indians aren’t no good.”

“Yes, sir.” He nodded “Yes, sir.”

“You best be off, Samuel.” John waved his fork toward the door.

“Mama thank ya for the food.” Sam waved toward John’s wife.

The door opened with a slow cracking sounded, Little Hawk watched as the man stepped out onto the moist grass.
He took another step the spurs jingled on the back of his boots. Little Hawk leaned back against the post glaring at the man. Her teeth showed as bright as a wolf’s fangs.

         “I’m not going to hurt you.” Samuel spoke in a soft voice as his hand reached out. Her dug into the wet earth and then she tossed flesh mud onto the sleeve of his shirt. “Okay, I understand.” He backed away. He stood up straight and reaching inside his vest. A loaf of bread landed in her lap. “You need to eat it’s a long ride to tomorrow.” Little Hawk began eating as he walked away. Then she spoke in her language as Samuel mounted on his horse. “You’ll be fine about a kind rancher will but you.” He rode off she watched until she could no longer see his horse in the darkness.

Little Hawk felted a hard tug on her arm, the man John dragged her over to one of the horses. “Get on you Indian.” She finally mounted onto the horse using only her legs. John held the roped that was connected horse Little Hawk rode. It was still early morning the suns rays’ barley reaching over the tops of the trees.
The two little girls that Little Hawk had seen yesterday ran out of the cabin, they waved their father off and gave the Indiana a farewell of the unkind sort. Placing their hands on their hips and sticking their tongues out Little Hawk gave them the same reply. The girls covered their faces as if they were about to be spit on, and then ran back into the house screaming. After the door shut Little Hawk smiled at her winning the battle with the white children, she opened her mouth and spit where they were standing.

By the time they reached the reservation the sun was already in the highest point in the sky. She eyes looked around the area Indiana’s of all tribes were here.

         “What!” John shouted another horse and rider stopped in their path. “Samuel! Why don’t you go back to Wyoming with your uncle?”

         “Your brother?” Samuel questioned, “You leave her here she will die.” Samuel protested. John pulled his pistol from his holster. “Boy your about to learn you place.” He crocked the gun. Little Hawk saw military men coming out of their tents to see what the problem was. She then looked at Samuel with a worried face and spoke even if he couldn’t understand her.

         Samuel signed turning his horse to the left and walking pass them, John smiled and put his pistol back in the holster. Samuel tugged on the reins his horse stopped a foot from Little Hawk. “I’m going to be in big trouble if uncle finds out about this.” He whispered. He kicked his horse turning around again as he flew pass Little Hawk he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her onto his horse.

         “Damn you!” John shouted firing his gun and racing off after them. Samuel slide back onto the horse’s rump, she could sit in the saddle and cut and ropes free from Little Hawks hands.

         “Here!” He gave her the reins then turned and began firing back at his father.
The horse raced around though the small tepees and huts. Women and men darting every direction not wanted to get hit the flying hooves that passed buy them. Samuel reloaded his gun and fired again. He could see the military coming up from behind John. “Go faster!” He shouted. She whipped the horse with loose reins she saw the gates that lead out of the reservation.

         “Come on! Horse!” John yelled as the two pulled away soaring pass the wooden gates into the greenery of the forest.

It was several miles before Little Hawk stopped the horse and gave it a pat for its hard work.

         “Shit.” Samuel said, “It’s going to be hell to get to Wyoming now.” Little Hawk rubbed the horse’s sweaty neck. Samuel dismounted and took and reins from her hands and lead the horse deeper into the forest not prior to saying, “Good work Scout.” He patted the horse between the ears.

         General Adam Wickerson finished writing his retiring address. He laid the pen down and sealed the envelope addressed to Washington. Soon he could return to his wife and children back in Virginia. He looked out though the small window watching the soldiers pass by, carrying guns thrown over their shoulders, and pulling horses behind them. He downed his coat and walked out into the fiery wind, it tossed his smooth hair back and forth. As he stepped the soldiers stopped and saluted as he passed. He bowed his head in return as he made his way cross to the other side of the fort.

         “Make sure this gets to Washington.” He said as he handed the letter to the teenaged boy. One of the pony express the General thought, it should get there on time.
The boy rubbed his heels against the horse’s flank the chestnut colt cantered off out though the main gate of the fort.

         Sam rolled the remaining logs into the fire, the warm sparks flew into his tarnish face.  He watched as the Indian girl rubbed the horse down for the night. Above the trees Sam could see the stars beginning to come out as the last of the bright sunlight retreated below the horizon.          

         Little Hawk sat down in front of Sam warming her hands on the fire. The glow lightened the dark color of her skin almost to that of a white man. She began to eat at some blueberries she had gathered earlier. “You like those uh?” Sam asked and received no reply.

  The coffee pot that Sam placed by the fire whistled, Little Hawk stopped eating and covered her ears. Sam poured himself and her a cup. He handed her the tiny silver bowl. “Be carefully its hot.” He warned, “Blow on it. See.” He placed his lips downward blew cooling the hot liquid inside. She did the same and slowly drank the liquid.          

Little Hawk still felt the coffee stirring inside her stomach, feeling it turn the cool moist blueberries into a hot sting mixture. Smoke rose into the starry night from the fire. Sam laid on his back mumbling as he slept. She could have mounted the horse and ran from the cowboy, but why? Protection was the main reason. A lone Indian girl out in the west was not a very good idea. She rolled back over on her side and drifted back to sleep and dreamed of her mother stroking her fingers though her raven hair.