eyes."
His appetite gone, Daniel dropped his plate on the bed and thought back to the revelations that made him the man he was today. That was back when he first realized that the military had figured out that one of the quickest ways to bring Indians under control, and thereby dependent and subject to the white man's regulations, was to destroy their main source of survival and independence—the buffalo. To his everlasting shame and horror, Daniel, along with his father, took part in the destruction of the great bison herds, at least until he realized what was happening to his own mother's people. By then, it was nearly too late.
Leaving those details out, he explained, "It wasn't until after a large group of Cheyenne were sent back here to starve to death that I decided they needed and deserved my help more than the army did."
"Starve to death?" Josie dropped a bite of flapjack back onto her plate. It landed with a hollow clunk. "But how can they be starving to death here in these mountains, of all places? Surely these people know how to hunt."
Trying to hang on to his private feelings on the subject, Daniel said, "It's impossible to hunt game that's been slaughtered to extinction by your enemies, the way the buffalo and antelope have been here in these mountains."
"There's no game left?"
Daniel shrugged. "A couple of elk and deer, I suppose, but they're few and far between. Sometimes the Cheyenne resort to picking off a few head of stray cattle from the ranches along the Tongue River—and that, as you might imagine, doesn't set too well with the ranchers. That's one reason Long Belly and I are trying to start up our own cattle ranch. If we do well enough, we plan to turn it over to the tribe."
Josie considered all this a minute, then frowned. "I still don't understand how they can be starving with all the supplies you bring them on behalf of the government. I know several white families that could have used a little free flour last winter."
"They're welcome to it," he said, barely hanging on to his temper. "Of course, to qualify they have to have been driven at gunpoint off the land where they were born and raised, then agree to live under conditions that make them sick and to adapt to ways of life they detest, such as farming. Oh, and they also can't complain when the government breaks promises and treaties, or when it expects them to suffer quietly at the hands of crooked traders and white horse thieves. And forget about religion as you know it—they have to change all those beliefs, too. Still think you know some white folks who deserve free flour?"
Daniel suspected he'd gone a little too far even before Josie grabbed his plate off the bed, then flounced over to the counter and dumped the remains of both their meals there. When she marched over to the table and glanced out the window, he thought she might even try to make a break for it.
She didn't, but surprised him by completely ignoring the previous subject to ask, "If this is a cattle ranch, where are your cattle and hired hands?"
As happy as she for the change of topic, Daniel laughed as he said, "We're just getting a start in the business. Long Belly is my hired hands."
Turning back to him, Josie asked, "Then why is he off chasing buffalo that aren't there instead of tending the herd?"
In no mood to get back on such a personal level, Daniel made quick work of his explanation. `Buffalo have always provided food, lodging, tools, and other goods to the Cheyenne, and are the most worshiped animal in that tribe, second only to their God, Heammawihio. Since Long Belly can't fill his people's bellies just yet, he dreams of finding at least one living buffalo to fill them all with hope."
Her expression thoughtful, Josie nodded, and then went back to staring out the window. After that, the morning and afternoon flew by as Daniel dragged himself outside to tend the livestock with his surprisingly cooperative assistant, Josie, by his side.
Not only did she
His appetite gone, Daniel dropped his plate on the bed and thought back to the revelations that made him the man he was today. That was back when he first realized that the military had figured out that one of the quickest ways to bring Indians under control, and thereby dependent and subject to the white man's regulations, was to destroy their main source of survival and independence—the buffalo. To his everlasting shame and horror, Daniel, along with his father, took part in the destruction of the great bison herds, at least until he realized what was happening to his own mother's people. By then, it was nearly too late.
Leaving those details out, he explained, "It wasn't until after a large group of Cheyenne were sent back here to starve to death that I decided they needed and deserved my help more than the army did."
"Starve to death?" Josie dropped a bite of flapjack back onto her plate. It landed with a hollow clunk. "But how can they be starving to death here in these mountains, of all places? Surely these people know how to hunt."
Trying to hang on to his private feelings on the subject, Daniel said, "It's impossible to hunt game that's been slaughtered to extinction by your enemies, the way the buffalo and antelope have been here in these mountains."
"There's no game left?"
Daniel shrugged. "A couple of elk and deer, I suppose, but they're few and far between. Sometimes the Cheyenne resort to picking off a few head of stray cattle from the ranches along the Tongue River—and that, as you might imagine, doesn't set too well with the ranchers. That's one reason Long Belly and I are trying to start up our own cattle ranch. If we do well enough, we plan to turn it over to the tribe."
Josie considered all this a minute, then frowned. "I still don't understand how they can be starving with all the supplies you bring them on behalf of the government. I know several white families that could have used a little free flour last winter."
"They're welcome to it," he said, barely hanging on to his temper. "Of course, to qualify they have to have been driven at gunpoint off the land where they were born and raised, then agree to live under conditions that make them sick and to adapt to ways of life they detest, such as farming. Oh, and they also can't complain when the government breaks promises and treaties, or when it expects them to suffer quietly at the hands of crooked traders and white horse thieves. And forget about religion as you know it—they have to change all those beliefs, too. Still think you know some white folks who deserve free flour?"
Daniel suspected he'd gone a little too far even before Josie grabbed his plate off the bed, then flounced over to the counter and dumped the remains of both their meals there. When she marched over to the table and glanced out the window, he thought she might even try to make a break for it.
She didn't, but surprised him by completely ignoring the previous subject to ask, "If this is a cattle ranch, where are your cattle and hired hands?"
As happy as she for the change of topic, Daniel laughed as he said, "We're just getting a start in the business. Long Belly is my hired hands."
Turning back to him, Josie asked, "Then why is he off chasing buffalo that aren't there instead of tending the herd?"
In no mood to get back on such a personal level, Daniel made quick work of his explanation. `Buffalo have always provided food, lodging, tools, and other goods to the Cheyenne, and are the most worshiped animal in that tribe, second only to their God, Heammawihio. Since Long Belly can't fill his people's bellies just yet, he dreams of finding at least one living buffalo to fill them all with hope."
Her expression thoughtful, Josie nodded, and then went back to staring out the window. After that, the morning and afternoon flew by as Daniel dragged himself outside to tend the livestock with his surprisingly cooperative assistant, Josie, by his side.
Not only did she
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