by Alan S Evans
Tigee grabbed her before she got out of the house. “Wait. JB and Hawk are on their way.”
“Tommy, go get my horse,” she begged. “I’m going with them. Grandfather, don’t try to stop me.” Tigee knew he couldn’t, so he nodded to Tommy to do as she had asked.
By the time JB and Hawk arrived at the house, Tommy was coming out of the barn with Tara’s horse saddled up and ready to load in their trailer. Tigee and Tara filled them in on what was happening and let them read the note. “You’re not going,” JB told Tara. “It’s not safe.”
“Damn it, JB,” she said. “If you don’t take me, I’ll go on my own, and right now we’re just wasting time.” No one was going to stop her from getting out to Shane, and she was right, there was no time to argue.
“If you go,” JB said, “you stay behind us and do exactly as I say!” With that said, JB and Hawk reluctantly loaded Tara’s horse and let her in the truck before they sped away.
JB and Hawk put together a plan during the drive. “Why don’t we go in from the southeast pass,” Hawk suggested. “It’s a rough trail for the first half mile or so, but it’s less distance over to Jasper Canyon from there. This Jack guy will be watching Shane come in from the southwest, so this will give us a chance to slip into the area unseen.”
“Shane was only about a half hour in front of us when we left the ranch,” said JB. “Using the southeast entrance we should be able to get to Jasper Canyon about the same time he does. Maybe we’ll get lucky, and that white boy will get lost.”
Hawk looked over at JB with concern, “I wouldn’t count on that. Shane’s gotten pretty damn good at getting around in the valley.”
JB and Hawk were correct; Shane was riding in from the southwest. This was the only way he had ever gone to Jasper Canyon. He had to use familiar trails if he was going to make it there in time.
“Sorry, old man,” Shane said to Tory. “I’ve got to push you pretty hard if we’re going to get there before the morning is over.” An unusual late morning fog was just rising in the area of the canyon as he arrived. Shane could only hope that the low visibility would work in his favor. He rode fast through the thick, moist air until he was close. Once he thought he was within a few hundred yards of the location, he slowed Tory down to a cautious quiet walk. Alert and ready for trouble, Shane pulled his rifle out of its scabbard and rode in the direction that Jack’s note specified.
Then, through the rising fog, he heard a familiar whinny. It was Sloppy all right. Shane knew the sound of her call all too well. Although he couldn’t see her yet, her frequent yells told him she was only about fifty yards away. Sloppy was screaming to the herd, and they were answering by matching her, whinny for whinny, off in the distance.
Shane eased Tory up closer until he finally came into Sloppy’s view. He slipped off his horse and paused, looking and listening for any movement or sound, which might be Jack waiting for him. Realizing he was in a vulnerable position, he kept his finger on the trigger of his rifle as he began his approach. Using the skills he had learned from JB and Hawk, Shane worked his way silently up to where the mare was tied. “Hey, girl,” he whispered to her, “you’re okay.” His eyes were constantly combing the area around them as he reached up to pull off her halter and set her free. At first, Sloppy didn’t know whether to stay or go, so Shane slapped her on the hindquarters to send her galloping in the direction of the other mustang’s repetitive calls.
“All right, you piece of shit, where are you?” Shane whispered to himself, still looking around as he made his way back to Tory.
Hawk, JB, and Tara were just getting to the canyon and were carefully working their way along the high side of the east canyon wall.
“Look, there’s the mare,” Tara pointed below, as they watched her run in a wide-open sprint toward the rest of the herd. Now that they knew the mare was safe, JB saw no reason to stay quiet.
“Shane!” he hollered. “It’s JB, are you okay?” Although they weren’t in sight, JB’s loud echoes reached Shane down on the canyon floor.
He quickly answered, “I’m all right.”
“Have you seen the Arapaho?” JB yelled back.
“No.”
“There’s a trail that leads up to us, about a hundred yards east of where you are. Hawk and I will meet you halfway down.” JB looked at Tara and told her sternly to stay up on the ridge. He handed her a pistol, and said, “If that Arapaho comes for you, don’t hesitate to use it.” Tara nodded as she watched JB and Hawk start down the steep trail toward Shane.
At the bottom, Shane rode east, like Hawk had told him to do, and soon found the way up. He knew Jack was out there somewhere. He just hoped the sound of his friends calling would be enough to scare him off. Shane had made it up to a level spot about fifty feet above where he had started. The fog had cleared, so he turned to see if he was being followed. Hawk and JB were still several hundred yards up the winding trail and were just now coming in sight above him.
Then, out of nowhere, he heard the sound of Jack’s voice. “Hey, asshole,” the Arapaho hollered. Jack moved from behind a tree about forty feet down the trail from Shane. “Damn, I must have ridden right by him,” Shane murmured.
Jack was on foot as he moved into the open with his rifle pointed at Shane. During their descent, Hawk and JB lost sight of Shane for a few minutes. The slow, winding trail had taken them behind some large rocks and trees, which obstructed their view below. “Drop your rifle now,” Jack yelled.
“Well, at least you didn’t shoot the defenseless horse,” Shane retorted, trying to stall for time. He knew JB and Hawk were not far away and would soon be able to help.
Jack laughed, “I could care less about that damn horse. It’s you I’m after. Besides, I may still go out and shoot the mare after I’m done with you.”
Shane looked Jack square in the eye, pointed at him angrily, and yelled, “There was no reason to rough that kid up like you did.”
Jack laughed again. “I did that just to piss you off. I heard you’d been helping him with his horses.”
Shane, still stalling for time, replied, “You’re a tough guy when it comes to beating up young boys and women, aren’t you? Why don’t you put down that gun and let’s see how you can do with a grown man?”
Jack sneered as he shook his head. “I know your friends are coming down the trail to meet you. I figure they’ll be here in about five minutes. That doesn’t give me enough time to kick your ass before I shoot you.” Suddenly, the look on Jack’s face turned to pure evil. The next sound Shane heard was the clicking noise of a rifle as Jack cocked the lever and took careful aim. “This is for my partner, Thomas,” he yelled as he started to squeeze the trigger.
At that same instant, a shot rang out from above. The bullet that came from behind Shane tore into Jack’s right shoulder, knocking the rifle out of his grasp. The Arapaho scrambled to his horse which he’d tied nearby, and took off.
JB and Hawk had come around the bend of the trail just in time to see what was happening, and Hawk had squeezed off a quick shot at Jack. Neither Hawk nor JB were about to let Jack get away. JB screamed out one of his crazy war cries as they rode past Shane in hot pursuit of the Arapaho. Shane knew that his two friends hadn’t noticed he was hit.
Tara didn’t stay at the top of the ridge like she’d been ordered. As soon as JB and Hawk disappeared around the first bend, she started following them down. She heard the shot and was now riding toward Shane and Tory at a fast trot. He was still sitting on his horse, with his back toward her, as she rode in close. It took her a minute to realize what was going on, but she soon grasped the terrible truth. Shane was beginning to slump over his saddle horn with his open hand pushed into his stomach, as blood oozed through his fingers.
It sounded like only one shot had been fired, but in reality, Jack fired his rifle simultaneously with the shot Hawk had got off from the trail above.
“Shane,” Tara yelled. “Oh God, NO!” Before she could get to him, Shane had fal
len off his horse and was tumbling down the ridge to the bottom of the steep trail fifty feet below. She screamed his name out again and again as she helplessly watched him plummet down across the pounding, punishing rocks until he finally landed hard at the bottom.
Shane lay broken, mangled, and bleeding at the base of the steep slope, barely conscious. He was too far gone to feel any pain. Tara urged her horse down the long sloping trail at a dangerous pace, hoping and praying that somehow he would be all right.
The ride down only took a minute, but to her, it felt like an agonizing eternity. She frantically jumped off her horse and knelt by his side, tears streaming down her cheeks. Tara picked up his hand, put her face close to his, and looked into his eyes for what she feared would be the last time. He struggled to stay conscious, but as hard as he tried, he could not speak the words that he desperately wanted to say to her. With blinding tears, she gently kissed his lips, held his hand tightly, and slowly inhaled his final outward breath. Then his body went limp, and he closed his eyes forever.
Tara moved her quivering lips to his ear, exhaled the breath she had taken in from him and whispered, “You go to them, Tahotay. Your family is waiting.”
She kept her composure for a short while, but the reality overwhelmed her, and for the first time in her adult life, Tara broke down and sobbed uncontrollably. Now she felt the pain and loneliness Shane had been through. A pain that could only be understood by losing someone whom she had loved with all of her heart.
***
Suddenly, something caught her attention. It was a cloud of dust and the sound of thundering hooves heading in their direction. It was Naatea with the herd coming toward them, hard and fast. Then, for no apparent reason, the mustangs slowed down and came to a sudden halt, only fifty yards away. With the herd calmly settled, only Sloppy separated herself out and continued to come closer. Tara, still kneeling at Shane’s side, watched as Sloppy moved toward them. In her shaken state of mind, it took her a moment to realize the horse was actually trotting up to them, in some kind of suspended slow motion. Although the morning fog had lifted a while ago, a strange mist surrounded the mare. She stopped only a few yards away and nervously pawed the ground. The mare’s eyes were wide open, and her nostrils flared as she inhaled the mist that surrounded her, and then anxiously snorted it back out.
Tara gasped as she caught a glimpse of something else in the cloud-like mist. Something that sent chills up her spine and made her heart race wildly. With an unsteady, blood-stained hand, she wiped the tears out of her eyes to see more clearly. It was then that she saw an outline of a man. The silhouette looked faint to her at first, but it gradually grew more defined. As the image moved through the misty haze and closer to the fretful mare, the horse began to calm down. Then Sloppy let go one last snort and, in an instant, became totally relaxed.
Tara struggled to gain control over her emotions as she saw the shadow reach out for the mare’s mane, and gracefully swing up on her back. Seconds later, the mist slowly began to clear away and the figure became recognizable to her. Even before she could make out the features of his face, she knew it was Shane by the way he sat on the horse. He turned and looked into her eyes, and deep into her soul. Although no words were spoken, she knew he was telling her good-bye, and that she would always be in his heart. Tara remained speechless as she noticed him smile while the outline, that a minute ago was so clear, began to fade. Shane turned and looked ahead just as the odd mist smoothly drifted back in and enveloped him.
Tara stood up and said under her breath, “Go to them.” Then as if someone had given the horse a perfectly timed cue, Sloppy backed up three steps, rolled over her hocks and raced off to join the herd. As the mare reached the other horses, Naatea screamed one of his loud, echoing screams, and the mustangs banded together in a stampede that soon disappeared through an open field and into the dusty horizon.
Tara closed her tearful eyes and a scene became vividly clear in her mind. She envisions the herd running at full speed, charging wildly to the top of a high, grassy hill. Passing over the peak, Shane looks down and sees his family in the meadow far below. Tina and Jacob are laughing and playing by a stream, while Jen sits nearby, watching over them. The horses stop where the top of the ridge meets the clear blue skyline, and only Sloppy and Shane continue down into the meadow. Jen and the kids look up to see Shane coming and begin to wave excitedly as he gallops toward them. Suddenly, the mare drops her haunches and slides to a smooth stop. This is as far as she’s allowed to go.
Shane slowly climbs down off her bare back and proceeds to rub her affectionately on her muzzle. He leans in close to the mare’s ear, and whispers to her softly, “I brought you to yours, now you’ve brought me to mine.” Then, with a gentle slap on her hip, he sends his old friend off in a slow trot, back to her waiting herd.
He turns to face his family just in time to have Jacob and Tina jump into his arms, with Jen soon joining them in the embrace.
The clear vision in Tara’s mind brings a smile to her weeping face. She knows Shane has finally played out his destiny, and the spirit horses have taken him to where he belongs. He is now in a place where sadness will not exist for him anymore.
EPILOGUE
Hawk and JB had no idea Shane had been shot when they rode by. Even if they’d realized it, they couldn’t have saved him. It was the bullet from Jack’s gun that killed him, not the fall.
They did catch up with Jack. He had eventually collapsed off his horse and passed out due to the massive loss of blood from his shoulder wound. He bled to death before they could get him out of the valley.
Later that day, Tigee received the news that Jack had shot and killed Vince Nethers earlier that morning. He apparently had come from Nethers’s house before beating up young Tommy, and sending the boy to Shane with the note. Jack had demanded money from Nethers or he threatened to testify against him. Vince pulled a gun on Jack. The Arapaho showed no hesitation when he pulled out his own pistol and blew a gaping hole in Nethers’s chest.
He had told others he blamed Vince Nethers for his best friend’s death, just as much as he blamed Shane. No one ever found Thomas’s body. This ended up as a very interesting story, written by Chad Dunning, the investigative reporter.
In time, the Shoshone tribe prospered from the oil in the valley. Because of the oil money, Tara’s dream of a better education for the children on the reservation, along with college scholarships did come true. Shane’s idea of building a resort eventually did happen. The Spirit Horse Resort and Lodge stayed booked up year around. It provided a good income for the tribe and kept a healthy public fascination for the mustangs as well as the valley they live in with all it has to offer.
Tommy became a respected clinician and took ole Tory with him on the road until the horse grew too old to haul.
The two wolves, Butch and Jessie, ended up as JB’s sidekicks, and whenever you saw JB, you were more likely than not to see them, too.
It was several years before Tara met another man to whom she could give her heart. She did eventually end up with a family, which included two strong and healthy sons. Her oldest boy was already five years old when she married. He was born a little less than nine months after Shane’s passing. She named him Jacob, and from the time he was old enough to walk, all he ever wanted to do was to ride horses with his Uncle Tommy.
Author’s Note
The word Tahotay along with the myth it represents, as well as all of the other tribal spiritual beliefs in this story, came solely from the imagination of the author. The other Native American words used in this book and their translated definitions, came from research on the Shoshone Web site dictionary. The combination of some of these Shoshone words was formatted to fit this fictional story, therefore they may have been used out of context to the actual Shoshone
language.
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