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There Have Been Other Adventures in my Life

I was a Cowboy for a while

Napajohnb
2006-01-03 20:37:34

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and if I could keep the horses head down I�d be OK. I wasn�t too surprised at him speaking Sioux, some of the older people had English beaten into them as children at the reservation schools and refused to speak it now out of spite. Many of the people of this age had fathers who�d fought Custer at the Little Bighorn and relatives who�d been at the Wounded Knee massacre so they knew intimately the story of the fall of their People. Many of these older folks had little use for white men.

Frank and the others had caught the horse and had him at the rail, they were still laughing but quieter now and Frank called over to ask if I�d had enough. I was sore and bleeding from a wicked barbed wire gash on my elbow and pretty much covered in dust but I finished my coffee and said OK and headed for the rail.

I sat down tight as I could on the saddle, my head was a little clearer from the adrenaline and coffee and I nodded to the two guys holding the reins to let go. The horse went straight up into the air and came down hard and immediately twisted to the right in an upward turn. I was still on and began pulling back on the reins to try to get his head down. Straight up again and another spin and across the corral we went, and this time I stayed on, legs and arms flying in all directions and out of the saddle more than in� not pretty, but still riding.

Finally I felt the bucking slow a bit and there was just the briefest pause between jumps and I pulled the rein to one side and down and he turned his head, spinning for a second in a tight circle. Then I pulled both reins back and his head was down, he stopped cold.I eased up just a bit and he walked a couple of steps. Then I took a big chance and let go the reins and dug my heels into his flanks and away we went at a gallop and I rode around the corral twice and up to the rail, stopping in front of Theresa with a spin and a flourish. I got off the horse and handed the reins to Frank and watched his face cloud over and his eyes flared and I figured we�d fight. I did not relish the prospect because he was a thin, wiry, tough, man known for winning fights. No matter, I was hurting already so a little more wouldn't matter.

Then I heard the old woman say something in Sioux and all their expressions changed and Frank shrugged and started walking the now docile horse to the gate. Theresa looked at the old couple for a minute and turned to me and translated quietly. They have given you a name. Then she repeated what the old woman had said. It means � The Cowboy with Work Shoes On� and I looked down at the sturdy brown work boots I favored over cowboy boots. Theresa went on to say that the old people never named a white man unless they respected him and the term �cowboy� was more of a title than a word in Sioux. I looked over at them and said, �Thank you.�

�Good ride.� The old man said in English, �You follow directions OK�, and he laughed.

Riding back into town, holding Theresa�s hand I thought about the night and the look in Theresa�s eyes as I�d ridden up and about my new name and decided that my prize that night was better than any cowboy's Silver Buckle ever won in a rodeo arena.