Spirit Horses

by Alan S Evans

Shane grinned. “Yes, sir, I guess it was kind of a boring day.”

  “What exactly did happen?”

  Shane got a more serious look on his face and explained the situation. “I definitely hadn’t planned on an extended stay, but there’s no way I can just leave the mare with the Shoshones in the hopes that they would turn her loose some day. If I go home without knowing for sure what happens to her, this trip would all be for nothing.”

  Mr. Jensen leaned back in his rocker. “You know, that old shaman’s right. As long as those boys from town are trying to catch the mustangs, Sloppy’s trust of humans could compromise her own safety as well as the herd.”

  “Yes, sir, I know.”

  “So, what do you plan to do?”

  Shane took a deep breath, “If I stay on the reservation, I’d have a place to live as well as a place for my horses. It would also put me in a better position to monitor the situation with the mustangs. On the other hand, I’m worried about the Shoshone people accepting me. I didn’t come out here looking to make friends, but I don’t want any more trouble, either.”

  “I can understand why you would feel that way. But, I believe when they realize that you want to see the mustangs safe just as much as they do, you’ll get along fine.”

  Shane hesitated in thought, “I guess my next step is to call Terry in Tennessee. I need to make sure everything’s okay at the farm and find out if he’s willing to carry on alone for a while.”

  Mr. Jensen, realizing Shane needed some time alone to think, stood and went inside. Shane hardly noticed the old man leaving as he contemplated. If he stayed, perhaps he could help find a way to prevent any further stealing of the horses. He knew it was a long shot, but stopping these thieves might be the only way to keep Sloppy from being captured again and possibly ending up at the killers. He decided to call Terry tonight, then sleep on it.

  Even with all of this weighing heavy on his mind, Shane still wondered why Tigee kept pointing at him and saying the Shoshone word Tahotay, and he was curious about its meaning.”

  Mrs. Jensen stuck her head out the front door to call, “Dinner’s ready.”

  As they sat down to eat Mrs. Jensen commented, “I couldn’t help but overhear some of your conversation earlier on the porch with Paul. You know you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need to.”

  “I sure appreciate that, ma’am, but I think being on the reservation will give me the best chance of accomplishing what I came here to do.”

  Later that evening, he called home. Terry encouraged him to stay in Wyoming. “Don’t worry, boss, everything is running smoothly. Our clients know I learned from the best.”

  “You’re a good friend, and I won’t forget this,” Shane vowed.

  Then Terry told him some good news, “Beth Ann and I are having another baby!” Shane was happy for him and congratulated him before they said their good-byes. The thought of children running and playing on his farm again made him feel good, but it also unavoidably steered him toward memories of Jacob and Tina. With an all too familiar heavy heart, he went outside to be alone.

  The next morning, a slight breeze was blowing down from the Owl Creek Mountains. The fresh mountain air and comfortable temperature made for a perfect day to take the horses on a long ride. This time he rode the mustang and ponied Tory alongside. He rode far into the foothills and again marveled at the vast open country. A man could ride through these rolling hills for days and never find an end to them, he thought. A smile crossed his face as he saw a pair of

  cottontails, out for their morning graze, under a stand of sycamore trees. A large hawk suddenly left his perch above them. Shane and the horses must have scared the big bird away from the rabbits he was eyeing for his morning hunt. Shane looked ahead and caught site of the tail end of a mule deer just as it disappeared over the next rise. There was wildlife everywhere he looked, and being out in this venue was good for his soul.

  During the ride he made his decision to stay for the summer. He was financially solvent, and Terry seemed to have everything under control. He saw no compelling reason to leave.

  Back at the farm, he gave the horses a good rubdown, then went into the house to find Mrs. Jensen sitting at her computer.

  “Mornin’, ma’am”

  “Good morning, Shane. How was your ride?”

  “It was fine. This sure is some beautiful country.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Since you already have your computer cranked up do you think there’s any way to find out on the Internet what the Shoshone word Tahotay means?”

  “I can sure try. Why do you want to know?”

  “It’s a word the old shaman spoke a couple of times. I guess my curiosity is getting the best of me.”

  She wasn’t having much luck with the search, and just as she was about to give up Mr. Jensen walked in. They explained to him what they were doing, and he said he knew a part-Shoshone man who lived nearby. “His name is Bobby, and I know he speaks some of their old language. Maybe he can help.”

  Shane and Mr. Jensen drove to the farm where Bobby worked and found him repairing fences. “What word are you trying to translate?” he asked.

  “It sounded like Tahotay,” Shane answered.

  “My Shoshone is a bit rusty, but I don’t think this word has a definition. As I remember, it refers to the name of a legendary character that was part man and part horse. Many of the old tribal

  stories included mystical creatures who possessed souls of both a human and an animal.”

  Mr. Jensen grinned, “I wonder if the shaman thinks you’re the front or the back end of that horse!” The three men laughed.

  Shane thanked Bobby. He couldn’t make any sense out of Tigee calling him this, and he hoped he hadn’t been the butt of Tigee’s joke. For now he decided to put it out of his mind. He had bigger things to worry about.

  After a decent night’s sleep, he loaded his belongings and horses onto the trailer, then thanked the Jensens for everything they had done.

  Mrs. Jensen gave him a hug good-bye before saying, “In all the years I’ve lived here, I’ve never been out to that reservation, and I’ve always wanted to see it. Maybe we’ll come out there to visit.”

  Shane smiled. “I’d like that very much.”

  During the drive, he began to wonder what he was getting himself into, but he decided to look at it both as an adventure and a diversion.

  He didn’t know how to contact Tigee to tell him he was coming, so he hoped it would be okay to just show up. As Shane pulled into the ranch headquarters, he saw a couple of men working with a stout-looking, red roan horse in the corral. Tigee was standing on his porch motioning for Shane to drive his truck and trailer over to a small cabin. He told him in his tribal accent in which stalls to put the horses and that he could move his stuff into the cabin anytime. “Come over to my house after you get settled in so we can talk.”

  The old cabin was in good condition. There was a sleeping area with a heater and a small TV at the foot of the bed. The small bathroom was the only separate room with a door on it. A gas stove, sink, and a refrigerator made up the kitchen area. “Home sweet home,” Shane said, grinning. It wasn’t much, but it was all he needed.

  He unpacked before he headed over to Tigee’s house. When he entered, two other men were standing in the living room with the old Indian. Neither of them seemed particularly happy to meet Shane. The old man introduced them, and then began talking to the two in their Shoshone language. He turned to Shane and spoke in his broken English, which seemed to be improving. Maybe he just needed a little practice or maybe Shane was getting better at understanding him. Either way, both of them seemed pleased that they were communicating better.

  “We are very thankful for the information you gave us about the plans to trap our mustangs on Saturday. My braves were waiting for the men when a small incident happened. There were some shots fired. My men did not shoot back. They did, however, kill three of the dogs that were sent to attack them.�
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  Shane asked, “Were any horses caught?”

  “The trap had been destroyed, so none were taken, but the men yelled that they would get revenge for their dogs.”

  One of the younger Indians spoke up, “This is no longer just a dispute over rights to the horses. It’s about how they think they’re better than us. We have every right to protect what’s ours, and we’ll do whatever is necessary to keep them from stealing our mustangs! Tigee wants us to take you with us when we check on the herd this weekend. We are doing this only because he asked.”

  Shane looked at him in a friendly manner, “Hey, man, I’m not one of the bad guys here. I want to stop these horse thieves too.”

  The young Indian didn’t look convinced, “If you want to go, have a saddle horse ready to load by nine Saturday morning. We’ll trailer in as far as we can, then we’ll need to ride the rest of the way into the backcountry.”

  Shane assured them he’d be ready.

  As the two men left, Shane turned to Tigee. “What do you expect of me for my keep over the next couple of months?”

  “Make yourself useful if you want, but you are my guest and owe me no money. You provide your own food and take care of your horses. That is all I ask.” Shane nodded then stood to leave.

  As he did, Tara came in, smiled, and said hello as she walked by. She was wearing faded jeans with a tight fit, a sleeveless white shirt, and no makeup. Even so, Shane couldn’t help but notice how

  naturally good looking she was. Though he couldn’t deny his lighthearted attraction for her, his family’s memory was still too strong to allow for any thought of pursuing female companionship. So, it was an innocent request when he asked, “Would you have time to answer some questions and show me around the reservation?”

  “I’ll be getting off work early tomorrow. You can come over after lunch, I’ll give you the ten-cent tour,” she offered.

  “Thanks, I’ll be here.”

  Shane spent the remainder of the day settling in and stocking his little house. The place was in fairly good shape, but some minor repairs were needed on the front porch railing. After eating a sandwich for dinner, he borrowed a hammer out of the barn and fixed it.

  Later that night, while lying in bed, he hoped he would be able to stay busy enough around the ranch. He was all too aware that an idle mind was his worst enemy.

  After an early breakfast, he sat on the porch with a cup of coffee. The house was only about fifty yards from the north side of the corral, which was in the middle of the compound. In the corral were the same two men with the horse he had seen there yesterday. They had the big, red roan tied up tight to the snubbing post and were trying to get a saddle on him. The horse was terrified and pulling against the post with all his strength. Shane really wanted to show the men a gentler way to do this, but he knew better than to disrespect them by butting in. Mind your own business, Carson. He thought, You’re not out here to put on a clinic for these people.

  Shane finished his coffee and went out to the barn to tend to Tory and the mustang. Since the two horses seemed to be eager to get out of their stalls, he decided this would be a good time to explore the country surrounding the compound.

  He waited until they finished eating their morning grain, then he put Sloppy in one of the turnout paddocks and saddled up Tory for the ride. As he led his old horse out of the barn and mounted up, it was hard for him not to notice what was going on in the corral just a few yards away.

  The two men had been joined by a young Indian boy, who looked to be about thirteen. They’d finally put a saddle on the freaked-out young horse, but he was still tied tight to the post. Riding Tory closer to the corral, he saw one of the men slide a blindfold under the halter to cover the frightened horse’s eyes. During all of this the roan never quit fighting and pulling against the snubbing post. Shane could hardly believe what he saw next as the men motioned to the young boy to get on the horse.

  With the colt already blindfolded, one of the men twisted and held on tightly to one of its ears. This method, earing down, would not hurt the gelding, but would help keep it from moving around or starting to buck before the rider could get in the saddle. Shane squinted his eyes and bit his bottom lip as the boy climbed on. At this point one of the men pulled the blindfold from under the halter and let go of the roan’s ear. Simultaneously, the other man turned the horse free from the post.

  The boy was on his own now, and the big red roan wasted no time exploding underneath him. The horse bucked hard and honest as the boy held on for dear life. Shane kept waiting for the kid to fall and was impressed by how well he could ride. This rodeo continued for a full thirty seconds, with the horse still showing no sign of weakening. Shane wondered how long the boy could take this punishment, but the kid showed a lot of heart and hung on.

  Suddenly, the roan stumbled, falling to his knees. When he jumped back up, he had lost his bearings and crashed through the boards of the corral where he fell to his knees again. Amazingly, the kid was still hanging on as the horse scrambled to get back on his feet.

  “Oh shit,” Shane whispered under his breath. The bronc and the rider were no longer in the safer confines of the corral. The crazed horse was loose in the compound, bucking wildly with the boy still mounted. Shane grabbed his rope and rode Tory straight into the fury. Tory was a seasoned pony horse so Shane knew he could count on him to remain under his control while he tried to help the boy. He quickly got his rope over the gelding’s head and snubbed it up close to his saddle horn. With this maneuver, Shane now had Tory running alongside the bucking horse. He hollered at the boy to let go of the bronc and slide behind him on Tory. The kid grabbed on to Shane and transferred over behind Shane’s saddle. Then with an impressive athletic ease, the boy safely slid off Tory and onto the ground.

  Shane continued riding alongside the big, tough roan until it quit bucking. Then, he ponied the horse over to a nearby turnout paddock and led him in. One of the older Indians stood at the gate of the paddock and motioned for Shane to ride out. Shane shook his head, no. Instead he politely requested, “Would you please step out and shut the gate?” The man looked puzzled, but did as Shane asked.

  The two men and the boy watched from outside the pen as Shane picked up the lead rope on the frightened gelding’s halter and began to work with it.

  A good pony horse is an extension of a rider’s own legs; therefore Shane had total control over where he wanted Tory to be. “Atta boy,” he told his horse. “You’re an old pro at this stuff, aren’t you, bud?”

  They were now standing side by side facing opposite directions as he put Tory’s nose at the bronc’s hip. Shane slowly kept pushing Tory’s shoulder into the gelding’s flank. When done correctly, this exercise would eventually convince the bronc to let go of his defensive frame of mind and move over, allowing him to be released from his brace and his tension. It wasn’t long before the big roan began to relax, and Shane was able to pet him softly on his neck and head. Shane worked on the gelding a while longer, then motioned to the boy to come into the pen and over to him.

  As he waited for the kid, he noticed that he had drawn quite a crowd. Tigee was watching from his porch and about a dozen other Indians were standing at the paddock fence. Shane realized it would have been hard for them to ignore the commotion that had been happening in the middle of the compound only a few minutes earlier. The boy showed courage and walked right out to the horses, then looked at Shane for instructions.

  “Climb up behind my saddle,” Shane said as he reached down. The boy grabbed ahold, swung himself up onto Tory from the other side, and waited for Shane to tell him what to do next.

  Still side by side, but now facing the same way, he moved Tory forward a couple of steps while letting the bronc continue to stand still. This now had the boy even with the saddle on the scared young horse. Shane winked his eye, smiled, then motioned to the kid to gently slide over and onto the roan gelding’s saddle. “Stay calm and relaxed,” he instructed, “and keep on
petting him. I want you to make this horse think he is your best friend, so keep rubbing and talking to him.”

  The boy quietly answered, “Yes, sir,” and then did exactly as he had been told. Shane gently pulled on the horse’s lead, urging the gelding to step forward with Tory beside him.

  He kept the gelding tied in close to his saddle horn in case he blew up again. The first couple of steps, the unsure horse tensed, but Shane and the boy kept talking him out of any more trouble. Soon, they were walking around nice and free. Now the roan was accepting the boy on his back. Shane stopped the horses and motioned the kid back over onto Tory, then down to the ground.

  He glanced toward the paddock fence and noticed that the people watching were smiling as they discussed what they had witnessed.

  Shane rode Tory, leading the gelding over to one of the men he had seen in the corral. Before Shane handed the man the lead rope, he explained, “The horse will need more work tomorrow or he’ll just come unglued again. I’ll be glad to work with the horse and the boy in the morning if you want me to.” The man thought a minute, looking as if he wasn’t sure how to answer. Then, he slowly nodded his head, accepting Shane’s offer. Shane gave the man the roan’s lead rope, then rode Tory off for the ride he had started on earlier.

  As he passed by the young boy he reached to shake his hand. The kid shyly looked at Shane and spoke softly, “Thanks, mister.”

  “What’s your name, son?”

  “Tommy.”

  “Mine is Shane Carson. That was some good riding, Tommy. I’m looking forward to working with you tomorrow.” Tommy responded with another quiet, “Thank you.” Shane turned Tory toward the compound gate, and rode away at a slow trot.

  Chapter 9

  Shane’s focus since he’d arrived in Wyoming had been centered on finding Sloppy’s herd. As he rode out of the ranch entrance, he realized how very little he knew about this reservation she was

  born on.

  He found himself looking forward to meeting with Tara tomorrow, appreciating her willingness to show him around. I’ll try not to drive her crazy with too many questions, he thought with a grin.