Read Online Morning in Nicodemus by Ellen Gray Massey - Free Book Online Page B

long?”
    Â Â  “No. The buffalo have left this country.”
    Â Â  “Even that herd you hunted last year?”
    Â Â  “Yes, they’ve gone farther west. Too many people here. The grass is being plowed up or it is being fenced.”
    Â Â  Virgil knew that was exactly what he and all the settlers in Nicodemus Township were doing. To make a life here on the plains for themselves, they were destroying the traditional life style of the Osages and the buffalo. He didn’t say anything.
    Â Â  Hunter continued, “The buffalo are getting harder to find.”
    Â Â  “I hate it that we’re doing that to you.”
    Â Â  “Everyone has to live and the land must support us all. My people have bought a county in Oklahoma from the Cherokee. We will soon all move there.”
    Â Â  “Lots of changes. We aren’t slaves anymore, but to get land for ourselves, we are taking the plains that have supported your people for centuries.”
    Â Â  “Everyone has to adapt. Things change. We can’t fight it. If we do, we’ll be destroyed. We Osages survive by adapting.” Hunter paused. “It won’t be many winters until the buffalo are gone.”
    Â Â  Virgil couldn’t respond to that, for he knew it was true. The buffalo bones he and Marcus gathered that helped them survive last winter were from the carcasses of herds left on the prairie by men who killed for sport and to make the land habitable for the settlers.
    Â Â  Hunter studied Virgil’s face for a moment then said, “Want to join us on one of our hunts?”
    Â Â  Virgil couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do than go on a buffalo hunt with the Osages, the masters of the Great Plains! They took only what they needed, using every part of the animal. He wanted to say, “Yes, yes, yes!” Instead he remembered his promise to his father. Then he thought about Liberty’s and Marcus’s need of him.
    Â Â  When Virgil’s happy face turned thoughtful, Hunter changed the subject. “You’ve been tracking your horses.”
    Â Â  “You seen them?”
    Â Â  Hunter nodded. “Their tracks. Up the river about an hour’s walk. They were headed west.” He grinned. “Come, I’ll show you.”
    Â Â  Hunter was trotting off before Virgil had his boots laced. He hastily grabbed his backpack and rifle and caught up with him. Hunter sprinted across the open prairie instead of following the curving river through the brambles and over inlets as Virgil had been doing looking for tracks. Hunter knew where the tracks were. Without questioning him, Virgil followed. Though he couldn’t go on an extended buffalo hunt, he could follow Hunter here. After all, his mission was to find the horses. 
    Â Â  “I thought you’d be in the Ozarks trapping like you did last spring,” Virgil said as they jogged along side by side,
    Â Â  “We’re going there later.”
    Â Â  “Your tribe used to live there, didn’t they?”
    Â Â  “Yes. My fathers wintered there in permanent lodges and the whole tribe hunted the buffalo here in the summer.” He glanced over the green prairie. “My people left there over seventy winters ago, but some of us go back each year to trap and hunt.”
    Â Â  They jogged about a quarter of a mile without talking.
    Â Â  “What it was like there?” Virgil asked.
    Â Â  “Though we hunted all of the plains from the big river west to the mountains, we liked best the hills in the Ozarks. Winters aren’t so cold. Summer’s not so hot. Not much wind. Creeks, rivers, and springs every-where.”
    Â Â  “It sounds like a paradise.”
    Â Â  “It was—for the Osages. There were herds of deer, many birds, and fish. All kinds of game. The tales the old men tell say that berries hung on every