“I think I got taken.”
“He’s not broken to ride?”
“He’s barely broken to a halter. I had to lead him here from
the Montgomery place.”
“That’s five miles from here.”
“I know.” He accepted the cup of coffee she handed him and
sipped it appreciatively.
“What kind of horse is it?”
“He’s a mustang and as wild as they come.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask.”
“Where’d you get the war bonnet in the barn?”
“From my grandfather.”
“Do you…do you know who it belonged to?”
“My grandfather’s grandfather, I think. Why?”
“No reason. It looks old. I was just curious.”
* * * * *
It took four days before the stallion would accept the
bridle without a fight and another two days before the horse would stand still
while Lee tightened the cinch. Even then, swinging into the saddle was like
straddling a block of dynamite. And it wasn’t because Lee didn’t know what he
was doing. He was a good rider, the best Kelly had ever seen, but the horse
bucked like it was powered with TNT. Time and again, Lee went sailing through
the air, only to regain his feet and try again.
After a while it was almost painful to watch and Kelly
wondered which stubborn creature would win—the man or the stallion.
It was late one night about two weeks later when something
roused Kelly from sleep.
Rising, she went to the window and peered out-side. A bright
silver moon illuminated the yard. At first she didn’t see anything and then a
bit of movement caught her eye. Leaning forward, she glanced to the left toward
the corrals.
“Oh.” The word whispered past her lips and then she grabbed
her robe and left the house.
Moving silently through the shadows, she made her way to the
corral, stopping out of sight behind a tall pine, her gaze focused on the man
and the horse silhouetted in the moonlight.
She watched Lee walk toward the horse, speaking softly in a
language Kelly did not understand, but assumed was Lakota. Slowly he closed the
distance between himself and the black, a constant stream of words wrapping
magically around the horse.
The stallion stood in the center of the corral, ears
twitching, eyes watching the man’s every move, until the man stood at its head
and very slowly reached out to stroke its neck.
Kelly eased forward, listening to the soft words that seemed
to have woven a fairy spell around the wild stallion.
She pressed a hand to her heart as Lee placed his hands on
either side of the horse’s head and blew softly into the animals nostrils.
And then, to her utter surprise, Lee vaulted onto the
stallion’s bare back. She held her breath, expecting to see the horse start to
buck. Instead, the black craned its head around to look at the man on its back.
Lee gave a gentle squeeze with his thighs and the horse began to walk around
the corral as if it had been doing it every day of its life.
Speechless, Kelly left her hiding place and went to stand
near the corral gate. Man and horse circled the corral, moving together as if
they were one creature.
When they reached the gate, Lee spoke softly to the horse
and the stallion came to a smooth halt. Lee slid off the horse, gave the animal
a pat on the neck and left the corral.
It was only then that Kelly realized it wasn’t Lee at all.
It was Blue Crow.
“How did you do that?” she asked. “Lee’s been trying to
break that stallion for days.”
“Lee Roan Horse is a good man, but he has wandered far from
the true path. He has forgotten how to be one with his four-footed brothers.”
“Oh. The war bonnet Lee has in the barn, it belonged to you,
didn’t it?”
“Han. How did you know?”
“I saw you wearing it.”
“You saw me?”
“Yes. I don’t know how to explain it, but I touched it the
other day and I saw you riding a paint horse.”
Blue Crow nodded. “At the Greasy Grass.”
“You were at the Little Big Horn?”
“Han. It was a day to be remembered, tekihila. The
Blue Coats
“He’s not broken to ride?”
“He’s barely broken to a halter. I had to lead him here from
the Montgomery place.”
“That’s five miles from here.”
“I know.” He accepted the cup of coffee she handed him and
sipped it appreciatively.
“What kind of horse is it?”
“He’s a mustang and as wild as they come.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask.”
“Where’d you get the war bonnet in the barn?”
“From my grandfather.”
“Do you…do you know who it belonged to?”
“My grandfather’s grandfather, I think. Why?”
“No reason. It looks old. I was just curious.”
* * * * *
It took four days before the stallion would accept the
bridle without a fight and another two days before the horse would stand still
while Lee tightened the cinch. Even then, swinging into the saddle was like
straddling a block of dynamite. And it wasn’t because Lee didn’t know what he
was doing. He was a good rider, the best Kelly had ever seen, but the horse
bucked like it was powered with TNT. Time and again, Lee went sailing through
the air, only to regain his feet and try again.
After a while it was almost painful to watch and Kelly
wondered which stubborn creature would win—the man or the stallion.
It was late one night about two weeks later when something
roused Kelly from sleep.
Rising, she went to the window and peered out-side. A bright
silver moon illuminated the yard. At first she didn’t see anything and then a
bit of movement caught her eye. Leaning forward, she glanced to the left toward
the corrals.
“Oh.” The word whispered past her lips and then she grabbed
her robe and left the house.
Moving silently through the shadows, she made her way to the
corral, stopping out of sight behind a tall pine, her gaze focused on the man
and the horse silhouetted in the moonlight.
She watched Lee walk toward the horse, speaking softly in a
language Kelly did not understand, but assumed was Lakota. Slowly he closed the
distance between himself and the black, a constant stream of words wrapping
magically around the horse.
The stallion stood in the center of the corral, ears
twitching, eyes watching the man’s every move, until the man stood at its head
and very slowly reached out to stroke its neck.
Kelly eased forward, listening to the soft words that seemed
to have woven a fairy spell around the wild stallion.
She pressed a hand to her heart as Lee placed his hands on
either side of the horse’s head and blew softly into the animals nostrils.
And then, to her utter surprise, Lee vaulted onto the
stallion’s bare back. She held her breath, expecting to see the horse start to
buck. Instead, the black craned its head around to look at the man on its back.
Lee gave a gentle squeeze with his thighs and the horse began to walk around
the corral as if it had been doing it every day of its life.
Speechless, Kelly left her hiding place and went to stand
near the corral gate. Man and horse circled the corral, moving together as if
they were one creature.
When they reached the gate, Lee spoke softly to the horse
and the stallion came to a smooth halt. Lee slid off the horse, gave the animal
a pat on the neck and left the corral.
It was only then that Kelly realized it wasn’t Lee at all.
It was Blue Crow.
“How did you do that?” she asked. “Lee’s been trying to
break that stallion for days.”
“Lee Roan Horse is a good man, but he has wandered far from
the true path. He has forgotten how to be one with his four-footed brothers.”
“Oh. The war bonnet Lee has in the barn, it belonged to you,
didn’t it?”
“Han. How did you know?”
“I saw you wearing it.”
“You saw me?”
“Yes. I don’t know how to explain it, but I touched it the
other day and I saw you riding a paint horse.”
Blue Crow nodded. “At the Greasy Grass.”
“You were at the Little Big Horn?”
“Han. It was a day to be remembered, tekihila. The
Blue Coats
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