A New World Begins

The Corn Dance

Shane wandered downstairs and followed his nose towards the kitchen and breakfast. It was only six thirty but he was used to getting up early at college and, clearly, life on a farm began equally early. Travis, his parents and sisters were already clustered around the large table, along with Will, Noah and about half a dozen farm workers who also lived, or at least ate, in the house. Maybe he wasn’t so early after all.

“Afternoon, sleepy head,” laughed Travis. “Did my sisters wear you out yesterday delivering turkeys to our neighbours?”

Shane smiled sheepishly. On the afternoon of their arrival he’d quickly been press ganged by Travis’s sisters to help deliver almost a hundred turkeys to people living nearby, mainly Native Americans in the trailer park a few miles away. Will had been busy helping Kimimela and Travis’s dad all afternoon as they had done the post flight inspection and maintenance of the Pilatus. Travis and Noah had gone into the nearby township, Travis driving a pick-up truck, to collect some last-minute supplies for Thanksgiving from the store. They had also picked up some postcards too.

“Morning, Mrs Larson,” said Shane, “Sorry I’m late.”

“Nonsense, not all,” said Mrs Larson. “Don’t mind Travis. You happy with bacon, beans, grits and eggs? There’s orange in the jugs and cereal over there on the counter too. The milk is our own, not pasteurised or anything, but as fresh as it gets.”

Shane grabbed some orange juice and a bowl of cereal before squeezing in between Noah and Travis at the table.

“What do you want to do today, Shane?” asked Travis. “Will has already offered to help pops and Kimimela do a survey flight in the Pilatus, and Noah has been grabbed by my sisters to teach them to draw and then go into town and help them choose a new dress for tomorrow. That right, Noah?”

Noah looked up and smiled. “That’s right, Travis. I don’t think I had a choice…”

“So that just leaves us two,” said Travis. “Can you ride a horse, Shane? I can teach you. I’m thinking once Thanksgiving is out of the way tomorrow, we can go out on an adventure on Friday and Saturday, just like the pioneers. Noah and Will can already ride, so if I show you today, we can all go out for a couple of days. Ride up into the hills, camp overnight. We can take my Colt Peacemaker revolver and a rifle of course so we don’t need to worry about bears or wolves or snakes…”

“Or Injuns, paleface…” joked one of the workers sat just a few places down from Travis. “Travis won’t let us scalp you.”

Shane laughed nervously. “That’s fine, Travis, but I’m not sure about horses. I’ve never ridden one before. I’d like to learn though.”

“Okay, day sorted,” said Travis. “I think Noah has the most dangerous task…”

* * *

Almost immediately after finishing their breakfasts Will and Noah were quickly pulled away for their respective tasks leaving Shane and Travis to have a slightly more leisurely second cup of coffee before heading over to the stables. When they arrived at the stables, they found that a couple of horses had already been saddled for them.

“Hi, Travis,” said a stable hand, another native American only a little older than Travis, “I’ve saddled these two for you. Jigsaw here is nice and docile, so good to learn on, and of course, you know your own horse, Midnight.”

Jigsaw was a small, brown and white, skewbald horse, not much larger than a pony, and stood calmy as Travis and then,  a little more nervously, Shane patted her. Midnight was a little larger and as black as his name, but also seemed pretty tame, nuzzling Travis immediately he came within reach.

“Hi boy,” said Travis, “Did you miss me? Talk to Jigsaw, Shane, and get close to her, hold her, let her get used to your voice and smell, just be careful she doesn’t accidentally stand on your toes. Try and keep to her left side too, most horses are trained to expect the rider or groom to be there.”

After a minute or two, Travis led Midnight outside and told Shane to do the same with Jigsaw. Keeping a loose hold on Midnight’s reins, Travis held Jigsaw’s bridle and told Shane to get ready to climb up into the saddle. “Just put your left foot in the stirrup and then gently straighten up, and swing your right leg over her back. Nice and steady, and keep a good hold of the reins but don’t tug on them sharply. Use the saddle to pull you up, not the reins. Okay?”

“Okay, Travis,” said Shane, and gingerly lifted himself up into the saddle. Jigsaw just stood calmly.

“That’s good, now just keep hold of the reins while I mount up.”

Travis expertly lifted himself onto Midnight and then moved forward a couple of paces to bring himself right alongside Shane on Jigsaw.

“Easy, isn’t it? Jigsaw was the horse my baby sister learned to ride on, she’s really nice. Basically, all you need to do is tell her to ‘Walk on’ and give a gentle flick of the reins when you want to move forward, then tell her to ‘Whoa’ along with a gentle pull back on the reins to stop. Just squeeze your knees into her side a little too when you want to stop just before you pull on the reins, it lets her know to expect a command.”

Shane laughed. “You mean a bit like all our drill orders start with ‘Squad’ then a short pause before the order itself, to give us time to get our brains in gear?”

“Yes,” smiled Travis, “It’s exactly the same thing.

“The really important thing is to be gentle with the reins, Shane. Don’t tug them tight or often, a horse’s mouth is very sensitive and if you hurt her she’ll likely throw you. Not that Jigsaw ever would, but it’s not good to hurt your horse. Let’s just start off slowly, walking forward, I’ll keep alongside you. Just squeeze your knees in slightly, say, ‘Walk on’ and then loosely flick the rein.”

Shane paused a moment then gently closed his knees a little and said “Walk on.” Jigsaw began to walk forward, with Travis on Midnight keeping pace alongside.

“See, Shane, nothing to it. Just let the reins hang loose. If you feel you need to hold on, just hold onto the saddle horn there with one hand and keep the reins in your other. Really though, your feet in the stirrups are what keep you anchored, even when going at full gallop.”

Shane was smiling, clearly relieved that he hadn’t already fallen off but also looking as though he was enjoying it.

“Now, very gently, just move your left leg in tight to Jigsaw’s flank for a moment. You can give a very slight pull on the left rein too, but it shouldn’t really be needed, she’ll probably turn without. Just give it a try.”

Shane shifted in the saddle a fraction and brought his left leg tight in. Jigsaw turned gently until Shane released the pressure and she resumed walking in a straight line in her new direction.

“Perfect, Shane, that was good. To turn right, just use your right leg. She’ll keep turning until you release the pressure. It’s all there is to it when going at walking pace. If you’re trotting or galloping you may need to use the reins too as then your legs will be touching her sides more often as you bounce in the saddle, so the reins reinforce the command, but still keep it gentle. For now, we’re only going to walk anyway.”

After about twenty minutes of gently walking around the paddock near the stables, Travis pulled alongside Shane and Jigsaw and told them to stop.

“Just stand and watch me and Midnight, Shane. I’m going to get Midnight to trot first of all, then canter, which is a bit faster, then gallop. Just watch how I ride. See how I adjust my position in the saddle and use my legs to follow the motion of the horse, kind of like using my legs as shock absorbers, and also how I take care not to pull the reins and hurt Midnight’s mouth. Okay?”

Shane nodded and watched intently as Travis and Midnight started to move off, then began to trot, then canter and finally gallop. After just a minute or two, Travis and Midnight came back over to them.

“Okay Shane, now your turn, but just at trotting. Start by walking, then after a while just tap your heels in gently and say ‘Trot on’. Jigsaw will know what to do. You just concentrate on timing your movement so you rise and fall in the saddle with each step. It’s hard to explain but easy to do. If it’s feeling comfortable, you’re doing it right. Once you’ve mastered that, we’ll do some cantering. Okay?”

Shane smiled. “Okay, Travis. I think if Jigsaw was a car though she’d be an automatic, I don’t think I need to do the stick shift stuff.”

“Pretty much,” laughed Travis. “She’s smarter than most riders, perfect for learning on.”  

After about half an hour, Travis led them back towards the stables and dismounted from Midnight. He took hold of Jigsaw’s bridle and looked up at Shane.

“Just gently lift yourself up in the saddle, swing your right leg over and lower yourself to the ground. Most importantly, don’t use the reins to keep balance or grip, use the saddle strap or pommel instead. You don’t want to pull the reins, hurt the horse and startle it or you could get thrown. Jigsaw isn’t going to do that to you, she’s so docile, but it’s best to get into good habits. When you’re ready…”

Shane took a deep breath and then gently, but confidently, dismounted.

“Good, Shane, now take hold of her bridle, pat her and tell her she’s a good girl. Build some trust. Riding is a mixture. You have to be clear that you are in charge, that she must obey you, but always respect her.” He smiled. “I guess it’s a bit like women in general…”

Travis and Shane led their horses to the shady side of the stable and let them drink from a trough for a while. The stable hand re-appeared, bringing a couple of cans of soda for them.

“Seems like you got the hang of that easy enough,” he said. “I’m Joe by the way. You done now, Travis, or going to keep on a little longer? The horses are fresh enough and a good ride out will be good for them.”

Travis gulped down a mouthful of soda and nodded. “Yes, we’ll be continuing. Nothing strenuous, Shane, just a gentle walk down the valley here and out towards that clump of pines over yonder. Be a pleasant way to spend a few hours until lunch and get you plenty of practice. You okay with that? I’d best get us some hats though; this sun is stronger than you think even at this time of year.”

* * *

It was almost two o’clock by the time Travis and Shane wandered into the kitchen after riding out on the horses, then taking them back to the stables, brushing them down and feeding them. Travis had been a good teacher, leading by example, always clearly explaining things. Shane had really enjoyed the morning, a real different experience from his life in the city and then at college.

The kitchen was busy, with several ranch hands drinking coffee, filling up water bottles or talking with Travis’s mom about various farm tasks. Mrs Larson smiled as the boys entered.

“Hi again. Shane, did you enjoy the morning? Jigsaw is a real pretty horse isn’t she, and as sweet as pie. Now, what can I get you two boys for lunch? As you can see, the kitchen is always the nerve centre of any good farm but I can find the time to rustle up a snack for you.”

“No need, mom,” said Travis, “I was just going to grab some money and then take Shane for a ride around in the truck. We can call at the diner out on the highway and I can show Shane what real country diner food is. He’ll love it. We might call in and see old Grey Bear too.”

“If you do, say ‘Hello’ to great gramps for me too,” said a young man lounging by the window drinking a soda. “I’ve not had time to get up there for nearly a week.”

“Why not go with Travis and Shane, Mikasi? I’m sure they’d be happy to have you tag along and it’s nearly Thanksgiving, I don’t mind if you finish work a few hours early. You’ve mended more of that fence over Goose Hill in a week than most men do in a month, I’m sure we can spare you a few hours to visit family.”

Mikasi glanced at Travis. “Is that okay, Takoda?”

“Sure is, Coyote. Maybe you can teach Shane to throw tomahawks too!”

Mrs Larson smiled as Travis dashed upstairs to his room, then returned and led Shane and Mikasi out to the yard where several trucks were parked. Travis jumped into an angular, bright chromed and gleaming red 1989 Dodge Ram pickup.  Shane and Mikasi joined him on the bench seat up front.

“This is pop’s favourite truck,” said Travis. “He’s had it fully restored.”

“Wow,” said Shane. “Kyle would love this. It’s a vintage, just like his Bronco.”

“Yup,” said Travis, turning the key which was already in the ignition and causing the engine to roar into life. “That’s partly why I like working on Kyle’s Bronco at car club. It reminds me of home. Pops says I can have this truck one day.”

Mikasi was smiling and shook Shane’s hand as Travis piloted the truck out of the farm and onto the highway. “I’m Mikasi, Shane, I’ve heard a bit about you from Travis. Any friend of his is a friend of mine. I was a couple of classes higher than him in school, used to kick his ass regularly on the wrestling team too. Looks like he’s putting in plenty of gym work at his smart new college now though.”

Travis smiled. “I don’t recall you kicking my butt that often, Coyote. Maybe I should let you prove your words a little later…”

The boys were so busy talking and trading insults that Travis didn’t notice the police car parked up by the side of the highway until it turned on its lights as they drove past and pulled out behind them. Travis slowed down and pulled over by the side of the road, waiting for the police car to pull in behind him.

“Are we in trouble, Travis?” asked Shane. “Are you really old enough to drive here?”

“I sure am,” said Travis, “Except that until I’m sixteen, or done the minors’ driving course, I’m not meant to have more than one person as a passenger unless the passengers are family.”

A pair of policemen stepped out of the police car and walked up to the Dodge Ram, one hanging a little way back and keeping his hand near his gun holster.

“Don’t worry, Shane,” said Travis, “We’ll be okay. It’s Reservation Police.”

Shane looked puzzled.

“We’re on Reservation land, Shane,” said Mikasi. “Most of Travis’s farm is. We have our own laws and our own police. You probably won’t get scalped.”

Travis was smiling when the senior of the two policemen, a native American, drew alongside his window.

“Hi, Takoda,” said the policeman, “I thought I recognised the truck. Expected your dad to be driving though. Home for Thanksgiving?”

Travis nodded. “Can we get out?”

“Sure, step right out.”

Shane and Mikasi followed Travis as he climbed out of the truck and leaned back against it to talk to the policemen.

“Now, how old would you be, Takoda?”

“Fifteen, Sir,” said Travis.

“And how many people do you have in there with you?”

“Two.”

“And is two more than one?”

“Sure is, Sir.”

“Just thought I ought to check, Takoda.”

Shane was worried but neither Travis nor Mikasi seemed concerned.

“Would I find any alcohol in the truck if I looked, Takoda?”

“No, Sir,” said Travis.

“How about guns?”

“Oh yes, there’s probably a rifle in the tool locker, Sir. A shotgun at least. I haven’t checked today, but there always is.”

The policeman smiled. “I’d best not look then, had I?”

Travis shook his head. “No, you don’t want to find something you might have to report me for.”

“So, where you headed, Travis?”

“Just up to Fire Pines. To show my college friend Shane here round the land and to go and visit Grey Bear. We got a turkey for him too. Do you know he’s eighty-nine this Fall?”

“Yes,” said the policeman, “But the years are beginning to catch up with him now. Value your time with him, Takoda.”

Travis nodded.

“So,” said the policeman, “Looks like there’s nothing to see here. Just one stranger with you, and one family, that right Mikasi?”

“Couldn’t be righter, Wakichonhse,” said Mikasi.

“Best be on your way, Takoda,” said the policeman. “Give my regards to your folks, Travis, and remember what I said about Grey Bear.”

Travis nodded. “I will.”

* * *

Travis pulled off the tarmac and took a dust trail up into a clump of pines perched on the side of a small hill, drawing to a halt in a yard outside a small log cabin. There was an elderly man seated in a rocking chair on the veranda who waved a hand as they arrived.

“It’s just like a scene from that old tv show, ‘Little House on the Prairie’” said Shane as they climbed out of the truck.

“Hi there, Grey Bear,” said Travis as he walked over to the cabin. “Me and Coyote have brought a friend to see you. Grey Bear, this is Shane, my friend from college. Shane, this is Grey Bear. He taught me all about these hills.”

As Shane stepped forward to shake hands the old man smiled. “I knew you was a comin’ with Coyote, Travis, and bringin’ a friend too. Looks like a Snow Bear with that white hair and ice blue eyes.”

Shane looked amazed. “How did you know? Is it an old Indian trick? Did you smell us or something?”

The old man’s eyes twinkled and he raised the multi-coloured, hand-woven shawl that was gathered around his shoulders to reveal a small radio tucked into his shirt pocket. “No, son, I was just passing’ the afternoon listening in to the police frequencies on the radio. Tells me all I need to know about what goes on hereabouts. I heard Wakichonhse call in to his station about your stop a while ago…”

The boys all laughed as Mikasi collected the turkey from the truck and took it into the cabin.

“Be sure to thank your folks for the turkey from me, Travis,” said Grey Bear. “Mikasi, bring us some root beers out when you’ve put the turkey in the fridge.” He smiled again and looked at Shane. “Don’t go telling no-one Shane, but I have electricity up here too, and a cell phone signal that reaches almost all the way to Iowa. Don’t want you palefaces getting jealous and trying to take that from me too…”

Shane blushed and then laughed, feeling that he’d been gently chided but in a friendly way. “Sorry, Grey Bear,” he said, “I wasn’t meaning anything by what I said.”

Grey Bear’s eyes were twinkling again. “I know, Shane. We’re all a product of our education. It took me years to unlearn Travis here but he’s finally turning out alright, just like his pappy and gran-pappy afore him. You got those root beers yet, Mikasi? I could die of thirst out here…”

Mikasi re-appeared carrying some bottles of root beer which he handed round.

“You seen all those tv programmes, Shane, where the tribal elders are quiet dignified souls who deserve to be treated with great reverence? Well, Grandad Grey Bear ain’t like that. He’s an impatient, cantankerous old varmint…”

There was another round of laughter as Mikasi sat down at his grandad’s feet and produced a bottle opener, opening Grey Bear’s bottle first and then passing the opener to Travis. As he took a gulp from his bottle, Travis sat back against the cabin wall, looked down the valley and smiled.

“It’s always nice to come up here. Hear your stories, Grey Bear.” He turned to Shane. “Grey Bear is the best history man around. Knows the whole history of the Lakota tribe right back to the First Day. None of it written down, ain’t that so?”

Grey Bear said nothing but the proud smile on his face spoke volumes.

“It’s tradition,” said Mikasi. “The elders tell the story to the young folk. Everything that matters, passed on from generation to generation. ‘Oral history’ they call it in fancy colleges. You can say what you will of books and newspapers, but they ain’t no patch on hearing the story from the true source. The men who were there.”

Travis nodded. “It’s true, Shane. Grey Bear learned the story of Wounded Knee from men who were there. You can’t get better than that.”

Grey Bear smiled. “And now you see, Shane,” he said mischievously, “Travis has gone to army college to learn how to be a cavalryman just like Custer. He’ll be turning me out of my cabin and making me walk through the snows before you know it.”

Travis didn’t get upset, he just smiled at Grey Bear and said, “Think of me as working on the inside, Grey Bear. Now, tell me about the Corn Dances again while Coyote here gets the axes and shows Shane how to throw.”

As the afternoon sun settled lower in the sky, Mikasi brought a handful of tomahawks from the cabin and taught Shane how to throw them at an old tree stump. Travis sat at Grey Bear’s feet, sipped root beer and listened once more to the Corn Dance stories and of how the appearance of the Great She Buffalo ended a time of famine and brought prosperity to the Lakota People.

“There’s so much land out there, Grey Bear,” said Travis. “There’s no reason why anyone should go hungry. We just need to use it properly, grow the right crops.”

“People have been saying that since the beginning of days,” said Grey Bear. “But we can only grow what the sun and rains give us, and hope that men do not take the Earth’s bounty for their own purposes.”

“Well, I can’t speak for men,” said Travis, “Politics ain’t my ball game. But when I finish college I want to go on to university, study agriculture and plant science. Not just modern agriculture and genome sequencing and the sort of stuff that lets us breed drought resistant crops through. We need to remember the old ways too. The kind of stuff in the legends. With modern science and the old ways, being kind to the planet, working with nature and not against it, then we have a chance. Like you say, Grey Bear, we don’t own this land. We just have a duty to care for it, to pass it on better than we found it if we can.”

Grey Bear looked over at Travis, and then his eyes grew distant and seemed to see beyond him.

“There is always hope with each new generation, Takoda. My days are drawing to an end. This land is for you now, and Mikasi, and even your friend Snow Bear. Serve it well. When you finish college I shall be gone. When you finish university I shall be no more than memory. This summer perhaps I should have taken my Last Walk, re-visited those places I hold dear, looked upon them one last time before the winter hides them from me forever.”

As the old man’s voice drew quiet, Travis saw for the first time the age on his brow, heard the strain in his throat as he spoke. Grey Bear had always been there. He had always been old to Travis, but now Travis saw that his vitality and strength were fading. The old man’s skin was stretched thin. His grey hair was no longer thick. Grey Bear’s body was fading into the Plains’ past, sustained only by his spirit.

Travis spoke quietly. “I make you two promises, Grey Bear. I will look after this land. And you will make your Last Walk.”

Travis and Grey Bear sat in silence, watched the sun sink to the horizon. As the first stars began to sparkle in the cold skies Shane and Mikasi put down the tomahawks and came over to join them.

“Time for us to go now, Shane” said Travis. “Mikasi, are you coming back with us, or staying here?”

Mikasi smiled and put his arm around Grey Bear. Words weren’t needed. Travis gave Grey Bear a hug and then stepped back as Shane stepped forward and took the old man’s proffered hand. Grey Bear grasped Shane’s hand firmly, anchored Shane in front of him, looked deep into his eyes. “Protect him, Snow Bear.”

As Travis and Shane into the truck, Mikasi sat down at his great grandad’s feet once more and began to listen intently as Grey Bear stared into the distance and chanted words Shane couldn’t understand.

“It’s Lakota,” said Travis, firing up the engine. “Some stories can only be told in Lakota. Some because the words can’t be translated into English, and some because the stories can’t be told outside the tribe.”