expressive, showing his intelligence. There was a lot of information including experience behind that face with the creases of weather or age, but there was no threat.
“Why do you think my name is not Sally?” She asked because she was interested to hear his answer, not because she wanted to argue with him.
“Why did she bring you her puppies?” He sat back munching on the chocolates.
Okay, this was not going to be dull. “Chief George, I am interested in some of your history. I was wondering if you would be willing to tell me some of the old stories.” Sally decided that she wasn’t going to go in circles with him, so she sipped her coffee, avoiding the winding road he wanted to take.
He leaned forward to pour himself a cup of coffee, then reached into the bag and pulled out the whiskey. He looked at the kitchen for a long moment, then opened the bottle and poured a heavy dose into the coffee. He held the bottle towards her. She shook her head in a negative way. He smiled, capping it as he put it back in the bag. He sat back, took long drink and sighed.
“Where would you like me to start?”
“Well, have the Shoshone always been in this area, or where did you come from originally?”
The best part was his old rugged voice was made to tell tales. “That is interesting. Each of the tribes within the Northern Continent believed they were the first original ones. I suppose that would mean that we all might have originally been one and the same, still in more recent history, meaning in the last five hundred years, we stayed in the mountains until we were driven down for lack of food.”
Sally nodded. “As naturalists, your people lived off the land and would have been able to continue without someone interfering. When did your history tell you that your people first had pets, dogs especially?”
He looked at her for a long time before he started talking, this time looking at the fire in the open door of the stove. “The belief is that the wolf adopted the Shoshone before we had the name of Shoshone. It was a symbiotic relationship. The smaller wolves that couldn’t keep up with the packs would stay with the tribes. They would alert the families when anything came around and the families fed them leftovers. They would have been killed or died because of their size if they stayed with their packs. They changed as they became domesticated, but the roles were important. Before the white man came into the area, some of the hunters even took the wolves out with them, and the teams had success.”
He ate candy as he continued. “There are the stories of the children raised by wolves. These stories have been around all over the world, about children raised by animals. I remember as a child of the tribe finding a boy in the wild, and he had been missing for three years. He had a couple of wild wolves near him and everyone agreed that there was no way he could have lived through the winters without the help of the wild pack. Who is to argue?”
Sally had finished her coffee. His deep voice was so relaxing that she could listen for hours. She took a deep breath, then set the cup down so she could ask her more important question.
“I have heard that many tribes believe in shape shifters. Do the Shoshone have such myths in their history?”
Now, she had his attention. He looked at her directly as he put the candies down, along with the coffee cup. He steeped his fingers, putting his chin down on the tips as he looked at her intensely with his dark eyes.
“Aah. Shape shifters. Yes, interesting stories. Because of the wolves, there have always been many stories, but they are strange. There was a story a few years ago about an FBI agent at a Wisconsin reservation who saw an Indian he was chasing turn into a wolf in order to escape. Poor agent has probably been assigned to a damp basement in Cincinnati.”
Sally sat, trying not to show her tight emotions as he continued. “Unlike the movies, the stories within the
“Why do you think my name is not Sally?” She asked because she was interested to hear his answer, not because she wanted to argue with him.
“Why did she bring you her puppies?” He sat back munching on the chocolates.
Okay, this was not going to be dull. “Chief George, I am interested in some of your history. I was wondering if you would be willing to tell me some of the old stories.” Sally decided that she wasn’t going to go in circles with him, so she sipped her coffee, avoiding the winding road he wanted to take.
He leaned forward to pour himself a cup of coffee, then reached into the bag and pulled out the whiskey. He looked at the kitchen for a long moment, then opened the bottle and poured a heavy dose into the coffee. He held the bottle towards her. She shook her head in a negative way. He smiled, capping it as he put it back in the bag. He sat back, took long drink and sighed.
“Where would you like me to start?”
“Well, have the Shoshone always been in this area, or where did you come from originally?”
The best part was his old rugged voice was made to tell tales. “That is interesting. Each of the tribes within the Northern Continent believed they were the first original ones. I suppose that would mean that we all might have originally been one and the same, still in more recent history, meaning in the last five hundred years, we stayed in the mountains until we were driven down for lack of food.”
Sally nodded. “As naturalists, your people lived off the land and would have been able to continue without someone interfering. When did your history tell you that your people first had pets, dogs especially?”
He looked at her for a long time before he started talking, this time looking at the fire in the open door of the stove. “The belief is that the wolf adopted the Shoshone before we had the name of Shoshone. It was a symbiotic relationship. The smaller wolves that couldn’t keep up with the packs would stay with the tribes. They would alert the families when anything came around and the families fed them leftovers. They would have been killed or died because of their size if they stayed with their packs. They changed as they became domesticated, but the roles were important. Before the white man came into the area, some of the hunters even took the wolves out with them, and the teams had success.”
He ate candy as he continued. “There are the stories of the children raised by wolves. These stories have been around all over the world, about children raised by animals. I remember as a child of the tribe finding a boy in the wild, and he had been missing for three years. He had a couple of wild wolves near him and everyone agreed that there was no way he could have lived through the winters without the help of the wild pack. Who is to argue?”
Sally had finished her coffee. His deep voice was so relaxing that she could listen for hours. She took a deep breath, then set the cup down so she could ask her more important question.
“I have heard that many tribes believe in shape shifters. Do the Shoshone have such myths in their history?”
Now, she had his attention. He looked at her directly as he put the candies down, along with the coffee cup. He steeped his fingers, putting his chin down on the tips as he looked at her intensely with his dark eyes.
“Aah. Shape shifters. Yes, interesting stories. Because of the wolves, there have always been many stories, but they are strange. There was a story a few years ago about an FBI agent at a Wisconsin reservation who saw an Indian he was chasing turn into a wolf in order to escape. Poor agent has probably been assigned to a damp basement in Cincinnati.”
Sally sat, trying not to show her tight emotions as he continued. “Unlike the movies, the stories within the
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