Legends of Big Creek: Book 2

By Beverly Robb and James Hornung

Little Brooks lives, hunts, and rides with the Plains Indians. While with them, he witnesses first hand a massacre of a pioneer woman and her two children. This act spurns hatred and bigotry between the communities of the White Settlers and Native Americans that would be felt for over 100 years. Can Little Brooks lay to rest this social strife with the truth he has witnessed?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Feb 25, 2014
• ISBN: 9781491862902

Beverly Robb

Beverly Robb makes her home in Piney, Manitoba and Roseau, Minnesota. She spends her time writing, researching and researching her own cultural background. You may contact author through [e-mail].

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

The sun rose bright and strong over the cold Montana countryside. Ice crystals clung to the grass & tree branches giving the landscape a magical appearance of glitter & shine. Danny opened sleepy eyes and immediately leapt out of bed.

Danny was small for his age but was very energetic and curious. Danny was eight years old and looked very much like his father Steve had at his age, and like his father, was only interested in horses.

Steve and Jen were sitting down to breakfast as Danny came bounding into the kitchen.

Dad, can I work with Blueboy today? Danny asked boisterously.

Jen shook her head as she said, You two and your horses. You haven’t even eaten your breakfast and already your mind is out the door and in that barn. You will sit & eat before anything else Jen pointed to Danny’s seat. Danny sat obediently and watched as his mother dished his breakfast onto his plate.

Steve nodded in agreement as he added, Do as your mother says. I have to go visit an old friend but when I return this afternoon we’ll saddle your colt and you can work him in the corral.

Steve finished eating and gave Danny some instructions on what chores needed to be done, kissed Jen and headed for the door. As he walked out onto the porch, he was thinking how Blueboy was from the line of his childhood friend, the Sky Pony. The colt had the potential to be as great as his great great grandfather, and then smiled with pride and amusement at how much Danny was like he had been at that age.

Steve opened the corral gate and a large blue roan gelding came to him and began to nuzzle his arm. Well, I’m glad to see you too, Hondo. Steve gave the horse grain and began to brush and saddle him. After the horse had finished eating Steve swung himself easily into the saddle. He was as at home atop a horse as most men were at walking.

Steve rode till he came to what used to be an Indian camp long before. The ruins were still vivid upon the landscape. Steve had been coming to this exact spot since his childhood. It was warm & comfortable for him. It felt like coming home. He rode to the center of the ruins where a large rock was standing on its end. The stone was huge and impressive in its size. One side was flat and facing a plot of grass and flowers. Surrounding the area was a beautiful oak picket fence. Steve stepped off of Hondo and reached into the saddle bag removing an object that he carried to the gate. Hondo wondered to some grass on the outside of the area and began to graze. Steve walked reverently through the gate and to the head stone. The whole face of the rock had been slightly hollowed out, and over laid with unbreakable glass. Beneath was a photo of a beautiful paint horse. The top of his head, ears, chest and flanks were blue roan, his face and back were white, and the lower part of his body and legs were blue roan.

Carved beneath the protected photo were the words, Here lies the Sky Pony; The greatest horse and best friend that ever lived.

Steve sat down upon a small oak bench that he had made many years before and began to speak. Well old friend, it’s been a long time. When I think about our time together it seems like yesterday. I’ll never forget those times and all that you and the Dream Walker taught me. I wasn’t sure what he meant when he told me that I was shown the happenings and events of his time and meant to learn from them. And some day, I would know why and what I was to do with the information. Steve rubbed his forehead and looked at the book he had removed from the saddle bag and now held in his hands. With tears in his eyes his gaze returned to the photo. He held the book up as if to show it to his friend and said in a voice thick with emotion, It finally came to me what I was meant to do. I put it all in a book. You made this all possible.

Steve wiped his eyes, opened the book and began to read aloud, It was a cold Montana morning. Little Steve was just getting out of bed. Steve, nine years old and a little small for his age…

CHAPTER 2

Spring came slowly in Montana after the eventful winter that they’d all had. Walter and Running Elk had financed the ranch with the bank and had been very busy stocking it with the cattle that would be its life blood. They’d had to replace or repair some of the perimeter fencing and other tasks to get it all up to snuff and ready for operation. The two had also helped Tony with his spring preparations too.

Steve rode Booger at a long trot as he excitedly headed for home. School had finally ended for the year. Even though it was only the end of May, it had felt like it would never get here. Steve looked forward to the branding, roping and riding that he would do with his father and Running Elk. In his opinion, there was no greater life.

The next morning Steve was up early and looking forward to the day. He dressed quickly and bounded down the stairs. As he burst into the kitchen, his mother was frying the last bit of bacon for the family breakfast. Steve sat at the table and began to gulp his milk. After he wiped the milk mustache from his face with his sleeve he said, You know Dad, I never thought that Booger could get any better at cutting calves but he has. I’ve been working with him on his bobbing and weaving when he’s on a calf and he’s actually getting better. Steve’s eyes sparkled with excitement as he spoke about his horse Booger.

Steve’s sister, Jody, looked at her brother with disgust as she said, You know, that’s what your napkin is for, NOT your sleeve. Yuck, you’re so gross.

Steve ignored her admonition.

Emily, Steve’s mom, looked over her coffee cup and said, Don’t start you two. Steve, use your napkin not your sleeve and Jody quit feeding that animal from your fork.

Yes, Mom, Jody said. She had been feeding her pet raccoon, Speedy, a bit of egg from her fork.

I didn’t hold much hope in the beginning for that ol’ boy but he really surprised me. I would even say that he’s one of the best horses we’ve had on this place Walter, Steve’s dad answered.

As the family finished their meal, they heard Tony pull up in the driveway. The trailer and pickup rumbled and clattered to a stop. The family came out to the porch as Tony was unloading his horses. Speedy and Jody immediately ran over to greet Sir Bear Track, Tony’s pet bear. The raccoon began to chortle and rub against the enormous leg of the bear who responded with a deep throaty rumble. The three ran off to the yard to begin playing.

Tony came out of the trailer leading Bluebird. She had grown into a beautiful blue roan yearling. Steve could not take his eyes off of her. Her color was identical to that of Booger’s. Tony watched the boy and a grin spread across his face as he said, Next year we can breed her to Booger, if you want too.

Steve smiled widely and excitedly answered, That would be some-kinda colt! Imagine that. Hey Dad, what do you think?

Walter nodded in agreement. He and Tony had spoken of this many times but had never said so to Steve. They had wanted to see what kinda horse Bluebird would become before they raised the boy’s hopes.

The three were saddling their horses and getting ready for the long day. They were compiling the supplies they’d need for the branding tasks when Running Elk drove up to the corral in his pickup. The three waved and Walter walked over to the rail as Tony and Steve continued what they were doing.

Good morning Walter greeted his friend and partner.

Hope I’m not too late. Had a flat on the trailer, you know how these things never happen conveniently Running Elk replied as he walked to the rear of his trailer to begin unloading.

Not at all, Tony just got here too. We just started.

Running Elk unloaded his horse, Chief, who was already saddled.

Walter finished his tasks and then the three led their horses from the corral. Mounting, they took their respective places as they rode out of the yard for the prairie. While they rode Walter and Tony rode in private thought, breaking their silence occasionally to comment to the other about the growth of the prairie grasses and the expected abundant spring. Meanwhile, Steve & Running Elk spoke nonstop about the day ahead. Steve was so excited as he loved the branding & roping season. It was hard, hot and sweaty work but it was fulfilling and sometimes could get exciting.

When the cattle came into view, the riders split and began to circle wide the herd. As an animal would try to run away from the group, the closest rider would spur his horse into a run and pursue the fleeing animal. The rider would swing wide and out distance the animal, thus turning it back to the direction of the rest. Eventually, the group found and rounded up all of the cattle and drove them to a predetermined location that had a large corral. When the last of the cattle had been placed in the enclosure, Tony dismounted his horse, tied it to the rail and began to build a fire pit and lay out the vaccines, syringes, and knives. When the fire was going well he placed the branding iron in the coals. The other three began to sort and separate the unbranded calves from their mothers. Walter manned the gate and as Running Elk or Steve would send the Mother out, Walter would open the gate freeing her. The cow was understandably upset at the separation and would never go far. Usually she would hang around the outside of the corral bellowing to her captured calf who in turn was loudly bawling its response.

When all the mothers had been removed, Walter led his horse to where Tony had his tied and he tied his beside. He walked over to where Tony was tending the fire and signaled Running Elk and Steve that all was ready and to start roping and dragging calves to the fire.

Steve began swinging his rope over his head and kicked Booger into a trot. When he was in position behind his targeted calf, he let the loop fly. It drifted gracefully through the air and settled around the calf’s neck. Rider and horse acted in unison as one. The horse slid to a stop almost sitting on its haunches. Steve, quickly dallied, wrapping the rope around the saddle horn. Running Elk cast his loop to the ground just in front of the calf’s rear legs. The calf stepped into the loop as it fought the neck rope. Running Elk pulled the rope and did a loose dally pulling out the hind legs of the calf sending it to the ground. Both riders, in unison, dragged the calf to the branding area where they stretched it out between themselves. Walter gave the calf an injection of vaccine in its neck and sliced its right ear to ear mark it. Tony placed the white hot branding iron to its left hip. The iron sizzled and smoked with the pungent odor of burning hair and flesh. The calf bawled in pain and surprise. When the mark was of sufficient depth, Tony removed the iron and replaced it in the hot coals. Walter then castrated the bull calves and threw the removed testicles into a large coffee