When Grnadfather Journeys Into Winter (3 page)

The old man put his arm around Little
Thunder and together they set off for home. 

On one shoulder Tayhua carried a saddle, on
the other a bridle. Little Thunder carried a saddle and bridle, too. The old man's steps were
sure and steady. He carried the weight on his shoulders easily despite his age.

Little Thunder was having trouble. The
weight of the saddle seemed to be pushing him into the ground.

Out of the corner of his eye Tayhua saw
Little Thunder stumbling.

"Saddle too heavy?" asked Tayhua.

Little Thunder tried to straighten up under
his load.

"I'm ok," he said, but he was sweating with
the exertion. The saddle was really too heavy, and his knees were buckling.

Tayhua draped the bridle more securely on
one shoulder, freeing one of his hands. Being careful not to let Little Thunder see him, he put
his freed hand on the horn of the saddle his grandson was carrying and lifted up. He put on just
enough pressure to make the load light enough for Little Thunder to carry.

"It take a big heart to carry a heavy load,"
said Tayhua with a smile. "You carry that heavy saddle like a strong young horse."

Little Thunder's face lighted up with pride.
His steps became certain. He squared his shoulders beneath the weight of the saddle and the
spring of pride was in his steps.

"You going to ride today,
Grandfather?"

"Does a dog get wet when it sets down in
water?" said Tayhua. "I am not carrying this saddle on my shoulder to keep it warm. Every year we
go to the horse breakings and every year I ride, don't I?'

"But this year will be different. Suppose to
be some white people bringing their horses here this year. Some new people, rich ranchers from
Texas."

"Why should that make a difference to me?"
said the old man.

There were near the corral now, and most of
the other men were already there. There was a carnival atmostsphere. Dogs and children running
all around, men yelling to each other across the corral. Women were standing in groups beside
their men.

Little Thunder shrugged. "I heard some of
the old men say they would not ride in front of white people. Some of the old ones
say..."

Tayhua frowned. "When you hear a story that
all old men are wise the man who tells that story is nine years old and has never talked to
anyone over the age of ten! Some of these old fools are afraid to breathe too loud for fear of
what other people might think of them. I don't care what people think. I do what I think is
right."

They drew up along the corral fence and the
old man swung their saddles up on the top rail.

One one side of the corral a long line of
tables stood heaped with a generous supply of food. There was fry bread and squash and big rump
roasts of beef. There were pies and cakes and all manner of sweet things to eat.

Women stood around the tables talking and
trying to keep the sticky fingers of the young ones from getting into the food before everyone
else had a chance.

Little Thunder and Tayhua climbed atop the
fence, sitting next to their saddles on the top rail.

A big black stallion paced nervously around
the corral. A heavy-set white man in a big white stetson hat was giving orders to several other
men who were trying to corner the stallion against the side of the corral with a hand-held wooden
gate.

"Who's that?" asked Little Thunder,
motioning toward the white man in the white stetson.

"That's the man from Texas. They say he is
very rich and owns much land and many horses," said Tayhua.

Little Thunder and the old man watched the
black stallion carefully. He was one very fine, high-spirited horse.

The big black horse reared against the fence
as the ranch hands pushed the gate against the horse's side, forcing him up against the rails of
the corral.

The horse struggled valiantly against the
gate as the men struggled to hold him against the fence. Even with many men pushing against the
gate, the big black was almost able to knock the men right off their feet. The horse drove his
body solidly against the gate, staggering the men.

"That is some horse!" said Tayhua with
admiration. "See how his nostrils flare! See how his back arches like a proud cat stretching
before the fire. They will not ride that horse so easily."

For a minute it seemed that the men would
not be able to hold the horse, but then a few more men came down off the corral rails to help.
With enough of them holding on, the black stallion had no choice but to stand still, trapped
between the corral rails and the gate the men held.

The white man stood in the center of the
corral. He took off his stetson and fanned himself in the hot sun.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, sweeping
his hat in an arc that took in everybody around the corral. "My name is Wilson Tanner and I've
just bought a lot of land next to the reservation, so looks like we're going to be
neighbors."

He looked around as if expecting applause or
some indication of welcome. No one spoke. No one smiled.

The white man grinned uncomfortably and went
on with his speech. "I thought I'd provide everybody with a special treat today. I've got a
stallion"--he motioned toward the big black horse that the men held against the side of the
corral----"that nobody can ride and nobody can break. I call the horse Rolling Thunder because
once he gets rolling the rider usually gets launched from his seat like a lightning
bolt."

Around the corral, a few people laughed
quietly, politely.

"I'm offering five hundred dollars to the
man who can ride him down."

There was a gasp from the crowd. Five
hundred dollars was a great deal of money. Few Indians here had ever had that much money at one
time. Times were very hard for the people who lived on the reservation.

The black stallion whinnied furiously and
shook his head angrily. He did not enjoy being trapped against the fence. The men holding the
gate had to keep steady pressure on the gate to hold him back.

"Now a few of my best ranch hands are going
to ride him first. I promised a couple of them they could have first go, and if none of them can
make the ride I welcome any of you to try and ride Rolling Thunder," said Tanner.

Tayhua bent over and whispered to Little
Thunder again. "You see with one hand he offers a prize and with the other he allows himself a
chance to win it back. Be careful in your dealings with white people. It is said the large print
giveth and the small print taketh away."

Little Thunder nodded. He
understood.

One of Tanner's ranch hands stood up on the
top rails of the corral above the stallion. Carefully, he lowered himself on the back of the
struggling horse.

Seeing the rider getting in place, Wilson
Tanner plunked his stetson back on his head and made a beeline for the side of the corral. He had
no wish to be near the horse when they let him go.

The cowboy took a tight grip on the horse's
sides with his legs, bunched the reins tightly in his hands. With a yes nod, he signalled he was
ready, and a cheer rose up from all the people as horse and rider burst out into the center of
the corral, scattering the men who dropped the gate like frightened chickens.

It didn't take much imagination to see why
Tanner called his horse Rolling Thunder. The horse exploded into the center of the corral like a
keg of dynamite with legs.

Horse and rider whirled around the corral,
the horse a picture of savagery. Back curved like a cat, the big black stallion leaped straight
into the air and came down stiff-legged, all four feet in a bunch. For the rider, the concussion
was considerable.

The horse seemed like lightning going up,
like thunder coming down.

The rider lasted only a few seconds before
he went tumbling to the ground.

There were derisive whoops and cheers from
the crowd around the corral as the rider slowly and painfully got to his feet, dusting off the
seat of his pants with his hat.

Tayhua whistled in admiration. "That is what
I call a horse!"

Little Thunder asked. "Are you going to try
and ride him, Grandfather?"

"Wait and see," said Tayhua. "Let some of
the others try first."

Three other ranch hands tried it in rapid
succession and they didn't do any better than the first rider. They were able to stay on the
black stallion's back only a few seconds before the horse threw them to the ground.

Little Thunder nudged his grandfather.
"Aren't you going to try it now?"

Tayhua shrugged. "Fat Elk should try it
first. His family needs money badly. Blue Houseroof needs money too. Let them try
first."

"But I want to see you ride," said Little
Thunder. "I know you can ride him."

"Patience," said Tayhua. "I think I can ride
him, too, but others have more need. Let those go first that have need of the money. I'll get a
chance, I think."

"Not if I have anything to say about it."
The voice came from behind them.

Tayhua and Little Thunder turned and looked
behind them.

Little Thunder's mother stood behind them
with an angry expression on her face. Elk Woman's arms were crossed sternly against her chest.
There was a look on her face that was as much concern as it was anger.

"Have you forgotten what the doctors said at
the hospital? You're too old for this kind of horse-breaking foolishness. Your heart won't stand
this. Your bones are too old and too brittle and you know you're not supposed to..."

Tayhua turned his back on her.

"Don't you turn your back on me," she said,
stamping her feet angrily against the ground. "You know I'm right. You're just too proud to admit
that you're too old. You just want to go out and make a fool of yourself. That horse will throw
you sure as the world and you'll break forty-seven bones and I won't be..."

"If breaking forty-seven bones would make
you stop nagging me," said Tayhua and his voice teased more than it was angry. "I would let the
horse ride me."

"I'm warning you," threatened Little
Thunder's mother. "I better not see you on that horse."

"Close your eyes then," said Tayhua with a
grin. "And close your mouth too. That way you will not see any flies and you will not catch any,
either."

She shrugged. She had done the best she
could do but nothing she could say could make him any different than he was. He would catch
rattlesnakes and ride horses because his heart forever chased those things. Nothing could change
that. She marched off sadly in the direction of the picnic table.

Little Thunder watched her walk away. "Is it
true what she said, Grandfather. About the doctor? Is that true?"

"Pay no attention," said Tayhua with a big
grin. "Those white doctors look at bones and they think they know what a man is. My bones may be
old, my heart may be old, but my spirit is only fifteen summers old and I can ride anything
anybody can put a saddle on, including tornadoes and dynamite explosions."

Fat Elk now stood on the rail above the
black stallion.

"Let us hope Fat Elk has good luck," said
Tayhua.

Fat Elk slid down on the horse's back and
nodded that he was ready. The men holding the stallion agains the fence dropped the gate and
jumped back quickly to avoid getting trampled. The horse burst away from the side of the corral
with such terrific force that Fat Elk went head over heels backwards off the back of the
horse.

"One and a half seconds," said Little
Thunder. "That's not too lucky, is it?"

Tayhua grinned as Fat Elk got to his feet
and slowly limped toward the side of the corral. "Just about anybody could last that long even
with the saddle put under the horse."

Blue Houseroof was the next rider. He was
tall and well muscled. He was skilled in the riding of broncos and had ridden in many rodeos
throughout the states and often taken top honors. If anyone could ride this black stallion, it
would be Blue Houseroof.

"Now we shall see a ride!" said Tayhua, but
he was mistaken.

Blue Houseroof lasted only a few seconds. A
high leap, a frantic whirl and an explosive side kick, and Blue Houseroof sailed over the corral
fence. He landed with a big splash in a long wooden horse-watering trough. Everybody started
laughing at this strange sight.

Tayhua slapped his thigh and laughed so hard
he was in danger of losing his seat on the top rail.

Little Thunder was laughing, too.

Even Blue Houseroof was laughing as he stood
up in the horse trough and put his hat on. It was full of water, and it streamed down his face.
He spat water out of his mouth in a little stream and took a comic bow. This just made everybody
laugh all the harder.

"That is one very fine horse," said Tayhua.
"When I was your age, I had such a horse as that one. Full of wildfire and free-blowing prairie
wind, that horse. He threw me over every fence in Indian country before I got him tamed. That is
the kind of horse you should have."