Spirit Horses (12 page)

Shane got a feeling, just from looking at him, that
this was a man of status. He looked to be in his late seventies or early
eighties, and was in good physical condition for his age. Even though he was
dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, there was an air of nobility about him. Wearing
the fancy headdress in the other room, this old guy would fit right in with his
warrior ancestors who once ruled this country on horseback.

The elderly man pointed his finger at Shane and said
only one word,
Tahotay
. Shane
smiled and glanced at Tara for a translation. She looked at her grandfather and
shook her head, and then turning to Shane said, “It’s nothing important.”

Shane asked him, “How is this herd so connected to
your tribe’s past?”

The shaman spoke in his native language for quite a
while. When he finally stopped, he indicated to Tara with a wave of his hand,
to translate. She appeared reluctant but did as her grandfather asked.

“He wants you to know that these horses are direct
descendants of the hunting and war horses that the Shoshone depended on for
centuries. Many generations of warriors and chiefs have ridden these particular
bloodlines during famous battles, battles that were important in both the white
man and Shoshone’s history.”

Shane sat attentively. Her voice had taken on a
storyteller’s quality as she translated the exotic sounds of the Shoshone
language into English for him.

“According to our ancient tribal beliefs, these
horses are spiritual in nature, and some still believe that when a Shoshone
dies these horses will carry their soul to the threshold where those who have
passed before will be waiting to greet them. My grandfather and others of his
generation believe our ancestors still run with the herd when the “great
spirit” allows them.” Tara stopped, then smiled at Shane and said, “I know this
sounds farfetched to you, but my grandfather wants you to understand why these
horses mean so much to us.”

Shane shook his head from side to side, “No ma’am,
I’m not here to make any judgments about your tribes’ beliefs or traditions. I
just appreciate his time. Please let him know that I’m respectful of what he’s
telling me, and that I consider this very interesting.”

“My grandfather’s name is Tigee, and you may speak
to him as you wish. I have told him about your mare and how you have taken good
care of her, but that is all I’ve told him.”

The shaman then looked at Shane and repeated,
Tahotay
. Tara
looked embarrassed and shook her head, “No,” at her grandfather again.

Tigee asked Shane in his broken English, “What do
you want from me?”

 
Shane
breathed deeply and said, “I want to set the mare free with her herd. I drove a
long way from home to do this and hope that you will help me.”

Tigee spoke again in Shoshone. When he finished,
Tara translated. “He thinks the mare has been away too long and wonders if the
herd will accept her.”

Shane said, “I plan to stay out there to make sure
they don’t
reject her. If they do, I’ll take her back to Tennessee.”

The old Indian said, “No,” and began talking again
in his own language to Tara. When he finished, she looked at Shane. “My
grandfather does not think this is a good idea.”

Disappointed, Shane became quiet in thought for a
moment, “Could I please speak with your grandfather alone?”

Tara looked questionably at Tigee, he nodded his
head, yes, and indicated for her to wait outside.

He hoped if Tigee knew the real reason this was so
important to him, perhaps he would reconsider. Strong emotions became evident
on Shane’s face as he told the old Indian about his family.

“We acquired the mare from a nice lady who saved her
from the slaughterhouse. I had no idea how much a part of our family she would
become. Once she was trained, my two kids rode her almost every day, and
believe me, the mare looked forward to every minute she spent with Jacob and
Tina.”

Shane stopped for a second to control the lump that
was building in his throat along with the burning in his eyes.
 
“It was my young son, Jacob, who noticed at
times she seemed sad. Even though my son loved that horse with all his heart,
it was his idea that one day we should bring her back to her herd. I promised
him I would do that, and now I’m here to fulfill that promise.”

Tigee was obviously moved by the story, “I must
think about this. Please wait outside while I talk to my granddaughter.” As
Shane started to leave he turned back, “I’d like you to please keep the
information about the loss of my family between the two of us.” The old man
nodded. “I understand.”

Shane sat on the porch for about ten minutes before
Tara came outside. “I don’t know what you said to my grandfather, but he changed
his mind. He says you can take the mustang to the herd.” Shane breathed a sigh
of relief, then sat quietly in bewilderment as Tara continued, “My grandfather
believes the mare has lost her wild edge and will not be cautious of humans
anymore. He is concerned that she may lead some of the other mustangs into
danger. He
doesn’t think it would be safe for her or the rest of the herd to reintroduce
her right now.

“He wants you to stay on the reservation until we
find a way to stop the problems with the young men from town. Only then will he
allow your mare to rejoin the herd.”

Shane was not expecting this, and he didn’t know how
to respond. “Could I come back in a couple a days and let your grandfather know
my decision?” She nodded her head yes.

Shane thanked Tara and climbed into his truck. The
drive back seemed to take forever, and he was still pondering on what to do
when he arrived back at the Jensen’s. Mr. Jensen was sitting in a rocking chair
on the porch. Shane greeted him and walked up the steps and sat next to him.

The old man smiled. “Well, you don’t seem to have
any new bumps or black eyes, so I guess it didn’t go too badly.”

Shane grinned. “Yes, sir, I guess it was kind of a
boring day.”

“What exactly did happen?”

Shane got a more serious look on his face and
explained the situation. “I definitely hadn’t planned on an extended stay, but
there’s no way I can just leave the mare with the Shoshones in the hopes that
they would turn her loose some day. If I go home without knowing for sure what
happens to her, this trip would all be for nothing.”

Mr. Jensen leaned back in his rocker. “You know,
that old shaman’s right. As long as those boys from town are trying to catch
the mustangs, Sloppy’s trust of humans could compromise her own safety as well
as the herd.”

“Yes, sir, I know.”

“So, what do you plan to do?”

Shane took a deep breath, “If I stay on the
reservation, I’d have a place to live as well as a place for my horses. It
would also put me in a better position to monitor the situation with the mustangs.
On the other hand, I’m worried about the Shoshone people accepting me. I didn’t
come out here looking to make friends, but I don’t want any more trouble,
either.”

“I can understand why you would feel that way. But,
I believe when they realize that you want to see the mustangs safe just as much
as they do, you’ll get along fine.”

Shane hesitated in thought, “I guess my next step is
to call Terry in Tennessee. I need to make sure everything’s okay at the farm
and find out if he’s willing to carry on alone for a while.”

Mr. Jensen, realizing Shane needed some time alone
to think, stood and went inside. Shane hardly noticed the old man leaving as he
contemplated. If he stayed, perhaps he could help find a way to prevent any
further stealing of the horses. He knew it was a long shot, but stopping these
thieves might be the only way to keep Sloppy from being captured again and
possibly ending up at the killers. He decided to call Terry tonight, then sleep
on it.

Even with all of this weighing heavy on his mind,
Shane still wondered why Tigee kept pointing at him and saying the Shoshone
word
Tahotay
, and he
was curious about its meaning.”

Mrs. Jensen stuck her head out the front door to
call, “Dinner’s ready.”

As they sat down to eat Mrs. Jensen commented, “I
couldn’t help but overhear some of your conversation earlier on the porch with
Paul. You know you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need to.”

“I sure appreciate that, ma’am, but I think being on
the reservation will give me the best chance of accomplishing what I came here
to do.”

Later that evening, he called home. Terry encouraged
him to stay in Wyoming. “Don’t worry, boss, everything is running smoothly. Our
clients know I learned from the best.”

“You’re a good friend, and I won’t forget this,”
Shane vowed.

Then Terry told him some good news, “Beth Ann and I
are having another baby!” Shane was happy for him and congratulated him before
they said their good-byes. The thought of children running and playing on his
farm again made him feel good, but it also unavoidably steered him toward
memories of Jacob and Tina. With an all too familiar heavy heart, he went
outside to be alone.

The next morning, a slight breeze was blowing down from the Owl Creek
Mountains. The fresh mountain air and comfortable temperature made for a
perfect day to take the horses on a long ride. This time he rode the mustang
and ponied Tory alongside. He rode far into the foothills and again marveled at
the vast open country. A man could ride through these rolling hills for days
and never find an end to them, he thought. A smile crossed his face as he saw a
pair of
cottontails, out for their morning graze, under a stand of sycamore trees. A
large hawk suddenly left his perch above them. Shane and the horses must have
scared the big bird away from the rabbits he was eyeing for his morning hunt.
Shane looked ahead and caught site of the tail end of a mule deer just as it
disappeared over the next rise. There was wildlife everywhere he looked, and
being out in this venue was good for his soul.

During the ride he made his decision to stay for the
summer. He was financially solvent, and Terry seemed to have everything under
control. He saw no compelling reason to leave.

Back at the farm, he gave the horses a good rubdown,
then went into the house to find Mrs. Jensen sitting at her computer.

“Mornin’, ma’am”

“Good morning, Shane. How was your ride?”

“It was fine. This sure is some beautiful country.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Since you already have your computer cranked up do
you think there’s any way to find out on the Internet what the Shoshone word
Tahotay
means?”

“I can sure try. Why do you want to know?”

“It’s a word the old shaman spoke a couple of times.
I guess my curiosity is getting the best of me.”

She wasn’t having much luck with the search, and
just as she was about to give up Mr. Jensen walked in. They explained to him
what they were doing, and he said he knew a part-Shoshone man who lived nearby.
“His name is Bobby, and I know he speaks some of their old language. Maybe he
can help.”

Shane and Mr. Jensen drove to the farm where Bobby
worked and found him repairing fences. “What word are you trying to translate?”
he asked.

“It sounded like
Tahotay
,” Shane
answered.

“My Shoshone is a bit rusty, but I don’t think this
word has a definition. As I remember, it refers to the name of a legendary
character that was part man and part horse. Many of the old tribal
stories included mystical creatures who possessed souls of both a human and an
animal.”

Mr. Jensen grinned, “I wonder if the shaman thinks
you’re the front or the back end of that horse!” The three men laughed.

Shane thanked Bobby. He couldn’t make any sense out
of Tigee calling him this, and he hoped he hadn’t been the butt of Tigee’s
joke. For now he decided to put it out of his mind. He had bigger things to
worry about.

After a decent night’s sleep, he loaded his
belongings and horses onto the trailer, then thanked the Jensens for everything
they had done.

Mrs. Jesnsen gave him a hug good-bye before saying,
“In all the years I’ve lived here, I’ve never been out to that reservation, and
I’ve always wanted to see it. Maybe we’ll come out there to visit.”