Spirit Horses

by Alan S Evans

serious doubts that the trouble in the valley was anywhere close to being over.

  JB still wasn’t happy about Shane coming along, but Hawk and Tara’s brothers didn’t seem to mind.

  It was a warm, overcast day and the smell of rain was in the air. The five men tacked up their horses with a rifle packed on the sides of each of their saddles and slickers tied on the back in case of bad weather. The Indians were eager to get down to the river so they could pick up the herd’s trail before the coming rain washed away any fresh tracks. Shane and the others rode down the long gorge and through a tall forest to get to the banks of the Big Wind River.

  Shane felt a sense of privilege to be part of this scene. Here he was, riding with four natives of this land, down the same trail their ancestors had used hundreds of years ago. Before they rode out, Hawk reminded him that he was probably the only white man who had ever been down these particular trails.

  The Indians picked up the herd’s tracks about five miles downriver. Ivan told Shane, “The horses are smart, they rarely return to the same place on the river’s bank to drink. This behavior keeps patterns from emerging that predators could use.” The Indians seemed concerned because the horses were treading toward the north.

  “The white men only try to catch the horses on the north side of the valley,” Hawk said. “The area has easy access for them, and they like to stay close to the end of the old logging road where they park their trucks and trailers. Unfortunately, this same territory also has some of the best grazing.”

  According to the tracks, the horses had been moving along at a nice walk and then suddenly were spooked into a frantic run. What really bothered the Shoshone was that the herd had divided up into two groups—each going at high speed in a different direction. Shane sat on Tory and listened.

  “What could have caused this?” JB asked.

  “I’ve never seen them do this,” Hawk said. “We’d better split up.”

  Shane, Ivan, and Willie rode toward the northwest, while Hawk and JB followed the smaller bunch of tracks that separated to the northeast. Shane and Tara’s brothers had been riding hard and fast for about fifteen minutes when they heard the sharp echoes from a high-powered rifle.

  Soon after, they heard Hawk’s voice shouting over the radio. “You guys need to get over here now! We’re at the base of the northeast trail, just before you get to White Tail Creek.” Shane could hear, in the background over the radio, JB screaming out, what sounded to him, like some kind of angry war cry.

  Willie hollered, “I know a shortcut. Come on!”

  The three rode fast, down the winding, wooded trail. Shane was a little concerned about Tory, but the old horse easily kept up. He knew they were getting close when both of the Indians reached down and pulled their rifles from their scabbards while their mounts were still at a full gallop. Suddenly, they reined back their horses to a quick stop. Shane also pulled his rifle out as he swung his leg over to dismount. They could see JB on a cliff to the north, shooting in the air and hollering a bloodcurdling yell.

  Chapter 15

  As the three men rode into a clearing at the end of a trail, they cringed at the sight. There were five dead horses on the ground, including three mares, two with their weanling foals lying beside them. Shane noticed a third foal nearby. This weanling was still alive but had a gaping gunshot wound at the base of his neck. The colt was suffering terribly, and Hawk, who was able to move in close enough to assess its injuries, quickly made up his mind. He wasted no time in raising his rifle. With careful aim, he shot the young horse between the eyes, immediately putting it out of misery.

  JB, still up on the ridge, fired off some furious rounds in the direction the shooters had fled, then rode down toward Shane and the others.

  “Those sons of bitches!” JB yelled, as he rode in at a fast trot. The expressions on JB and Hawk’s faces were of pure rage. Ivan and Willie sat in helpless disgust as they stared at the senseless slaughter.

  The shooters were long gone by now and had probably made it back to their trucks. It was a good thing they had already left the area, because JB and Hawk were mad enough to kill.

  They soon discovered the tracks of three men and their horses, who had been waiting on a small cliff overhanging the trail’s end. Once the mares and foals made it into the clearing, the shooters had them clearly in their sights. This was a sad, inhumane scene and all five men stood there in quiet disbelief for some time.

  Hawk suggested they backtrack this doomed part of the herd to try to find out how they’d been separated and forced into this ambush. The five rode back to where the herd had split and started scouring the woods for clues. If they could find out how the shooters set up the hunt, it would be easier to prevent this from happening again.

  All four Shoshone got off their horses and began looking for signs. What they found suggested there were six other men on horseback chasing the mares and foals into the clearing. They used at least ten dogs to move the whole herd in the direction they wanted. Obviously, the men did not plan on Naatea leading the main group of the mustangs off to the northwest. Further down the trail, Hawk found a dog violently stomped to death.

  Shane was amazed at the tracking skills these Shoshones naturally possessed. Before long the four confidently determined what had occurred. The whole group of nine men used the dogs to track and to find the horses. They patiently kept their distance after locating the herd, in order to give themselves time to set up the ambush. Once they had sent the three snipers ahead to open ground, the other six men and dogs pushed the horses toward them. During the frenzy the smaller group was cut off by the dogs from the rest of the horses that narrowly escaped to the northwest.

  “Those mares with their foals would have been in the back of the herd while they were being chased,” Ivan told Shane.

  JB explained, “According to these tracks, Naatea turned back to try to save the three mares and their foals. He made it a couple hundred yards in their direction before he was attacked by at least three dogs. Naatea put up a good fight and killed one before he was forced to abandon the mares and foals and return to lead the larger group to safety.”

  Willie was furious. “This was definitely an organized attempt to eliminate as many horses as possible. If Naatea hadn’t outsmarted the hunters, the whole herd could be dead.”

  For Shane, this senseless slaughter only strengthened Mr. Jensen’s theory about the oil. He was almost sure these bastards would be back to finish the job. Now, more than ever, Shane needed to figure out how to prove if he and Mr. Jensen were right. Until then, he still felt there was no choice except to keep his mouth shut.

  It was a long, quiet ride back to the trailer. When they finally arrived, JB spoke, “We should post a twenty-four hour guard. We know their methods, so it shouldn’t be hard to get in the way of these sons of bitches. You can bet they’ll be back.” Everyone could see the rage building on JB’s face, “I can make those assholes wish they had never come out here!” As he stood next to his horse he pulled his thirty-thirty rifle out of its scabbard and fired an angry round into the air. Tory and the rest of the horses reacted with a startled look.

  Everyone agreed the mustangs needed full-time guards. Hawk suggested that Ivan and Willie stay out to watch the herd, while Shane, JB, and he went back to the ranch and talked to Tigee.

  It was obvious that Hawk did not want JB to stay, fearing what he might do to the shooters if there was an encounter. Hawk knew it was important to keep his friend away from any potential trouble until he had a chance to cool down.

  Tara’s brothers agreed to take the first watch. Hawk would come back later, with supplies. They planned to set up a base camp on a well-hidden high perch close to the area where the horses were killed. From this high spot, they could hear any trucks coming down the old logging road that led to the north entrance. This would also put them in a good position to head off another disaster.

  On today’s trip, Shane had seen these Indians were very much at home in the wilde
rness. He was impressed with how silently and efficiently they could move through the woods on foot, as well as on horseback.

  When they finally got back to the ranch, Shane unloaded the horses so the two Shoshone could talk to Tigee privately.

  The old shaman answered the loud banging on his front door. By the distraught look on their faces he immediately knew something bad had happened. “What’s wrong?” The two went inside and Hawk broke the news to him.

  “One of the foals was the colt you hoped would replace Naatea someday,” JB told him.

  “He was shot up real bad. We had to put him down,” Hawk added.

  The old Indian just sat there, staring at them. Then, as his eyes misted and his hands began to shake, he slowly stood up and left the room to regain his composure.

  When he returned, he sat in thought for a long time. Finally he spoke, “We have to call the sheriff from town and our reservation police.”

  JB stood up with his bad temper boiling over, “You know they won’t do anything. The sheriff will say it is not his jurisdiction, and the reservation police will say they don’t have the manpower to guard the herd. They’ll end up asking us to help them anyway and then try to control how we handle the problem. There are only two Shoshone on the police force, the rest are Arapaho. To them the herd is just a bunch of wild horses. To us they are an important

  living symbol of our pride and our heritage. In the end it will be up to us to stop the killing. We don’t need the so-called authorities getting in our way!”

  Tigee listened to everything the men said, then he spoke in their Shoshone language, “I know how badly you want these people to pay for what they have done, and so do I, but we must report this to the reservation police and the sheriff. I want all of them to go out to the valley to see what has occurred. If we try to get the authorities to handle it, and they don’t do anything, then no one can blame us for doing what we must to protect what is ours.”

  JB and Hawk had tremendous respect for the old Indian and reluctantly agreed. “Ivan and Willie have stayed in the valley to keep an eye on the herd,” Hawk said. “We planned to meet them at the drop-off point in a couple of hours with supplies.”

  Tigee thought for a moment. “I want all four of you to stay out of sight. I don’t want anyone to know we have people guarding the herd. The element of surprise will make it safer for you as well as help us to spoil any more attempts. I will take Shane and Tara with me. We will bring the sheriff and police in from the north logging road. You must get there before we do to tell my grandsons that we are coming, so they don’t think we are the herd hunters when they hear our trucks.”

  Tigee walked over to the phone to call the authorities. It took some convincing, but the sheriff agreed to meet the reservation police and the old Indian at the north logging road in three hours. This would give JB and Hawk time to gather supplies for Ivan and Willie and to let them know Tigee wanted them out of sight.

  “Where is Shane?” Tigee asked.

  “He’s in the barn, tending to the horses,” Hawk replied.

  “Go and ask him to come see me.”

  Hawk headed out the door to get Shane. As he arrived at the barn, Tara was stepping down off her horse from a morning ride. She wondered why he walked by her so abruptly.

  He found Shane inside finishing up. “Tigee wants to talk with you. He’ll fill you in on his plans.”

  Shane nodded and started walking toward the barn door. Tara could tell something was up and stopped him, “What’s going on? Is my grandfather okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am, he is fine.”

  “Well, something’s wrong!”

  “Someone shot some of the mustangs. We found them this morning.”

  Tara’s face went blank, “Why would someone do that?”

  “I don’t know. Let me help you with your horse, so we can go talk to your grandfather together.”

  “Does he know about it?”

  “JB and Hawk just told him.”

  Shane and Tara made short work of unsaddling her horse.

  When they walked into the house, the old Indian was just hanging up the phone from talking with the reservation police.

  “I want you both to come with me. Tara, I want you to make sure you have some film in your camera. Shane, I hope the sheriff will be more willing to help us if you’re there.”

  Shane scratched his head. “You know I’ll do all I can to help, but the sheriff and I have already had a run-in when I was in town. I don’t think he likes me very much.”

  Tigee smiled. “You didn’t make many friends in town during your brief stay, did you?”

  “No, sir, I guess not.”

  “Well, I’d appreciate it if you would come anyway. You’re a part of this now. We’ll meet the authorities at the north entrance in three hours. They should see what has happened! I want the sheriff and police to know how serious we are about stopping this.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  Tara followed Shane out to the front porch and sat down while he leaned against the rail. Shane could see she was stunned and still trying to absorb the shocking news. “It’s a damn shame,” he said.

  Tara shook her head. “I just don’t know why anyone would want to shoot them. I’m worried about the horses, but my biggest concern is for the violence all this could cause. Our young men won’t stand for this. They’ll fight back, no matter what the consequences.”

  Shane tried to be the voice of reason. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. Hopefully, this was just an isolated incident and it will all die down soon.”

  “Hopefully,” Tara said, “but I don’t think so. Trouble has been brewing for a long time, and tensions were already running high. I am afraid to think what could come of this.”

  Tara stood up and moved over to lean on the rail next to Shane. She hesitated for a minute as she glanced down at the wood floor of the porch, then looked back up at him. “I don’t know what those jerks are capable of, but I do know they think they’re above the law around here. You watch out for yourself and please keep an eye on my brothers. If there is a fight, I know they’ll be in the middle of it.

  “With everything that has happened today we can’t guarantee your mare’s safety, and it may be a long time before we can. My grandfather said you’re a part of this now. I feel I should remind you, it’s not necessary for you to go with us today. You aren’t obligated to get involved, and no one would blame you if you loaded up your horses and went back to Tennessee.”

  She was leaning on the rail close to him and gently bumped her shoulder into his. “You know if you do leave, there would definitely be some people around here who would miss you.”

  Shane didn’t know how to respond, so he just stood quietly for a moment, then said, “I don’t plan on turning that mare loose until its safe, but I also don’t plan on leaving until I see through what I came out here to do. I know it’s hard for you to understand why it’s such a big deal for me to set her free. Along with my personal reasons, I’ve come to understand and appreciate how special these mustangs really are. This land and these horses are at a crossroad. If a stand isn’t taken, these links to the past could be lost forever. I guess I need a worthwhile cause in my life right now, so I think I’ll stick around to see how it turns out.”

  Shane paused before adding, “Besides, if I were to leave there might be a couple of people around here I’d miss, too.”

  Tara, still leaning against the railing next to him, looked back down at the deck with a bashful smile that would melt any man’s heart. A few quiet, awkward seconds passed before she shifted her blue eyes toward his. Once again they found themselves caught up in an intense gaze. He wanted to reach out for her. Maybe even just move his hand on top of hers, now only a few inches away from his on the rail. He was almost sure she wanted him to do something. Instead, he politely made his exit. “I’ll be back in an hour,” he said as he ambled away. Shane had become an expert at shutting off strong emotions, so by the time he made it d
own the steps, his mind had conveniently slipped back to the day’s events and what lay ahead.

  It had already been a long afternoon, and it wasn’t over yet. The two dogs were lying on his porch waiting for him. Both of them perked up their ears when they saw him walking up the steps. Jessie still wouldn’t allow Shane to touch him, but Butch came over for a light rub on his head. Then Shane went inside to clean up. He found himself looking in the small mirror above the bathroom sink while he waited for the shower water to warm. Staring aimlessly at his reflection, he could not help but ponder on the spark that seemed to be growing between him and Tara. He stood there thinking how good it felt to just be near her and wondered if she really did feel the same way. Then he slowly wiped a handful of water on his face and mumbled, “I don’t think I’m ready for this.”

  After showering, he went out to the barn. The day had flown by, and Tommy was preparing hay for the afternoon feeding. Both Tory and Sloppy were nickering at him. “They’re talking to you,” Shane said, as he walked up.

  “Yes, sir, they do every time I feed them. Are we working horses tomorrow?”

  “You bet, son, I’ll be here, bright and early. You have the roan saddled up and ready to go by eight.” Tommy grinned from ear to ear at the idea of Shane helping him.

  Just then he heard the horn blowing from Tara’s truck, signaling they were ready to leave.

  The drive out to the valley was solemn, neither Tara nor her grandfather wanted to look at the scene that awaited them. When they arrived at the north logging road, the reservation police were already there. They waited another half hour before Sheriff Benson finally showed up. The sheriff’s attitude was as expected. “Let’s get this over with. It’ll be dark soon, and I’ve got dinner waiting at home.”

  From this point on, the trees were too thick to drive through, so they all started the fifteen-minute walk to the Deer Creek clearing, where it happened. No one talked during the walk except for the sheriff asking if anyone brought any bug spray.

  When they got to the clearing, it was an emotional scene for Tara and Tigee. Rigor mortis had set into the carcasses and there were large puddles of blood around each of the slain animals. The flies were thick, and the buzzards were beginning to circle low overhead.