Savage Arrow

“Jessie, even at Lone Wing’s young age, he could become our Historian,” Thunder Horse said, wanting to make certain that she understood why his nephew’s lessons were so important. “Almost every evening in my people’s lodges where there are children, a myth or a true story of some great deed, is narrated by parents or grandparents. The children listen wi

th parted lips and glistening eyes, for they all want to be able to tell the same tales to their own children in the future.”

He smiled at Lone Wing and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “But only one of those braves has been singled out to know all of those myths and stories,” he said proudly. “My nephew is a keen listener and has a good memory. The stories and myths are easily mastered by him. The teachings that began when he was old enough to realize their importance enlightened his mind and stimulated his ambition. His conception of his own future became a vivid and irresistible force. Whatever there was for my nephew to learn, he would learn.”

“I hope I’m not a distraction,” Jessie said, looking slowly from Thunder Horse to Lone Wing. “Will I be?”

“No, never,” Thunder Horse said quickly. “You, too, will learn from the myth that I will tell today. You do want to learn, do you not?”

Jessie’s eyes widened. “Oh, yes, I do, so very much,” she said softly. “I want to know everything that I can about you and your people, since . . . I . . . will be living here among you.”

Thunder Horse’s heart skipped a beat, for he could not help hoping, from the way she said she would be living among his people, that she wanted to be there forever!

Or did she mean that she needed to understand his people to make it easier for her during the time she would be there . . . until she found somewhere else to go, or someone to care for her?

He looked quickly away from her and tried to focus on the lessons instead of thinking too much about Jessie.

“There once was a young brave who was called by the name Proud Boy,” Thunder Horse began, forcing his eyes to see only his nephew, not the woman. “He wandered along many trails. One day, when he came to a lonesome place beside a river, he sat for a long time and listened and heard things.”

“What kind of things?” Lone Wing asked, not for the sake of interruption, but in order to understand today’s myth fully.

“All things,” Thunder Horse said, slowly nodding.

“Tell me more,” Lone Wing urged, leaning forward, his eyes wide as he became totally involved in the story.

“There was a meadow place where an old doe lived with two spotted fawns,” Thunder Horse continued. “On this day the young brave saw the doe, but not the fawns. He knew they must be hidden somewhere in the long grass in the meadow. The afternoon was warm. Mosquitoes bothered him a great deal, but he knew that the fawns would not move from their beds until their mother came to them. So he waited.”

Thunder Horse paused, slid a slow gaze at Jessie, whom he found as taken by the story as was Lone Wing, then turned his eyes back to his nephew and continued. “A rabbit bobbed across the trail not far from Proud Boy,” he said. “When it entered the bushes, it turned suddenly and almost ran into Proud Boy’s foot. Something had scared the rabbit. Proud Boy’s eyes searched the bushes. He wanted to see what might have frightened the rabbit, because it might be something that he also should run from. His eyes widened when he thought he saw a man’s nose.”

Thunder Horse smiled at Lone Wolf and Jessie. “But Proud Boy knew that sometimes shadows and sunshine play tricks in the forest,” he said. “He looked steadily at the nose and waited. Then he thought he saw an eye, but it did not wink. It did not move, but stared straight ahead.”

He chuckled when he saw Lone Wolf get up on his knees, his eyes wide and filled with wonder. “But Proud Boy knew that if it was a man’s eye, it had to blink sometime,” he said. “Suddenly there were more mosquitoes than ever. But Proud Boy did not dare brush them off for fear that the eye would blink and he would not see it.”

He paused, then continued. “A breeze suddenly moved the leaves on the bushes,” he said. “A braid of hair was then revealed to Proud Boy. And he thought that the eye might have blinked! Proud Boy spoke to the unknown one, but the unknown one did not speak back. Thinking that he was imagining all of this, Proud Boy rose to leave, but a voice spoke to him from behind the bushes. The voice said that he was one of the Echo People. He told Proud Boy that Echo People always hide behind rocks and bushes, that they speak every language and make every note the large birds make.”

“Echo People?” Lone Wing asked. “I have heard of them. They are everywhere.”

“Ho, nephew, wherever there are voices or birdsong or coyote calls, there are Echo People,” Thunder Horse said, nodding. “But this day, Proud Boy did not actually see or hear one of the Echo People.”

“Then who was it that hid behind the bushes?” Lone Wing asked, his eyes widening even more.

“Proud Boy’s imagination conjured him up,” Thunder Horse said, laughing softly.

“But the Echo Person spoke to him,” Lone Wing said, settling back down again on the blankets.

“Nephew, Proud Boy did not have only a vivid imagination, but he also sometimes talked to himself,” Thunder Horse said, then reached a hand over and patted Lone Wing’s bare shoulder. “Think about that when you walk to your lodge. And, Lone Wing, hakadah, look closely at everything you see and hear. Notice which side of the tree has the lighter-colored bark, and which side has the most regular branches. Now answer me this, nephew: How do you know there are fish in yonder lake?”

“Because they jump out of the water for flies at midday,” Lone Wing said, pushing himself up to stand beside his uncle, who smiled proudly down at him.

“Ho, that is so,” Thunder Horse said. “Go now. Think about your lessons today. Soon you can repeat the story, but put your own twist to it, nephew. Make it interesting and fun.”

“I will,” Lone Wing said. He smiled at Jessie. “I will see you again soon.”

“Yes, soon,” Jessie murmured. She said nothing else until the youth was out of the tepee; then she smiled at Thunder Horse. “That was all so very interesting.”

“I did not get as serious as usual in my lessons today because I wanted to make your time listening to them more relaxed,” Thunder Horse said, shoving a log into the flames of the fire.

“I did enjoy it,” Jessie said, nodding. “And Lone Wing is such an astute student.”