The Indian Cowboy 1 E-Book

Brita Rose Billert

• Herausgeber: Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Serie: The Indian Cowboy
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Seitenzahl: 327

Beschreibung

The Indian Cowboy -The Night of the Wolves- He drives illegal car races, drinks brandy and smokes pot. Ryan Black Hawk is the king. He's clever and a real ladies' man. The young women are at his feet. But when one night two of his friends are killed in an accident, the tables turn. The love Samantha Crying Crows gives him the strength to fight for his ranch and his horses. The Indian Cowboy's new way is rocky and wide. Lovely books A fate between two worlds. Exciting, realistic and at the same time touching. Ameridian Research A dynamic and exciting contemporary novel with profound characters.

Leseprobe

The Author:

Brita Rose Billert was born 1966 in Erfurt, Germany. She is a specialized nurse of critical care and respiratory care. A fact that also competes well in her novels. She spends her spare time with her horse in the Kyffhäuserland, Thüringen. She has made many friendships with Native Americans in Utah, South Dakota and British Columbia through her trips to the United States. This fact, the love for the horses and her job inspires her to write. Twelf novels have already been published.

Home page of the Autor:

www.brita-rose-billert.de

Indian Rodeo

Life is a Rodeo and a Rodeo is the constant up and down in life.

You struggle to stay on top, to be sure you will fall. It is not the question of whether you stay up, but for how long.

And if you find yourself rubbing your face in the mud, it is not the question of how long, but if you get up again.

It’s on you, to get up again.

Silence is the center of the universe.

Silence is the center of our souls.

It is the great mystery.

We may never experience it´s origins, but we must pay attention to it.

We must listen to it and we must learn to be quiet.

Every morning we must experience the silence, because it makes us think of all the things.

We must pray to the power that stands above all the humans in the universe:

The Great Spirit, that has no beginning and no end.

That´s everywhere, in all things and in all human beings.”

(Lakota Moon by Christopher Cain)

This page is written by my friend and translater Bruno

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 The night of the Wolves

Chapter 2 The other world

Chapter 3 Endurance test

Chapter 4 Inuk, the white Bear

Chapter 5 Betrayal

Lead-In

Like a lantern, the full moon sent its cool light over the land. Dark clouds passing by and let spooky shadows wander across the grassy plain. The Northwind blew rough over the Land. The breath of the North Pole drifted teeny ice crystals deep in to the Mid-West, in to the Great Plains. The almost treeless grassy plains did not stop him. In one of the valleys people found shelter. The old wooden house defied storm, cold and rain for more than seventy years. Weathering had gnawed at it. But the house had remained steadfast. On the slope behind the house creaked a few pines. They looked like black giants and defy the storm, upright and crooked. In a creek crossing the valley reflected the glittering Moonlight. Close crowded stood five horses' bodies together and dozing on their feet. Not far from the crowded horses fine white ice crystals thrown up to a black stallion. He had lowered his head and his back showed against the icy wind. The wind sang his monotone song across the night, as if he wanted to put everything to sleep. Even the coyotes were silent. The creatures of darkness seemed to have found a protective shelter.

The noise of an engine mingled rudely with the deceptive sound.

Increasingly louder, an old Buick drove over the gravel road that led to the valley. It stopped in front of the old wooden house. Two young men stepped off and pulled a third out of the car. They dragged him up to the porch steps. Then they turned him off at the door. Swaying, he leaned against it. The white shirt had slipped out of his pants. His long black hair was in a mess. The wind played with it. One of the men hung a furlined denim jacket over the swaying figure's shoulder and tapped it with his hand.

“Keep your pecker up!”, he said.

His tongue barely obeyed him. He chuckled to himself.

“Get out of here!” the guy lolled.

He leaned against the door so as not to fall over. He raised his hand in greeting.

“Thank you, Scott.”

The two young men got a grip on oneself and toddled straight to the car. The Buicks spinning wheels threw up dirt and pebbles. The car turned at a rapid pace and sprinted away, as if he feared being pursued. The hiss of the wind finally swallowed the engine noise.

Slowly the stars faded at dawn. Several times the young Indian stroked the hair from his face. He took a deep breath and tried to open the door. With a jerk, the door was suddenly torn open, so that the guy stumbled into the house. A tall, sturdy man caught him in his arms. He had long hair, parted in the middle and braided in two braids. It shimmered silver gray.

“Good evening, Dad”, the young man lolled in surprise. Actually, it should have been called 'Good morning' for a long time.

The face of the addressed seemed to be petrified. With no emotion he revealed his thoughts. He did not answer his son either. Nevertheless, he repressed his anger with difficulty. With a hard grip, he grabbed his own flesh and blood. Then he dragged the drunken son behind him, out the door. The denim jacket remained lying on the ground.

The sixteen-year-old made no attempt to fight it. He did not make a sound either. Only when his father had dragged him to the creek and pressed his head under the icy water, he began to fight back. Vain. The firm grip of his father did not diminish. He held his son for a long time until he thought his resistance would subside. Then he pulled him up. The horses had lifted their heads and watched the action.

The young man gasped for breath, before he found himself submerged again. His senses were suddenly wide awake and he realized what was happening to him. When his father pulled him out of the water again by the neck, he had swallowed and coughed suffocatingly. He could not have said a word. Again, he felt his head, his entire upper body under the floods of the creek. The gentle flow played with his hair as if she wanted to wash it away.

“John! Let him alive. John! Stop it! You will kill him!” , a female voice called. She sounded desperate.

John pulled the seemingly lifeless body out of the water and left it lying on the shore. A soft rattle was the only sign of his son's life. John still did not speak. But his face twisted as if someone had stabbed him in his heart. He turned away from his eldest son. Silently passed his wife and went in to the house and left the door ajar.

The advancing dawn completely faded the stars.

Only the yellowish white lunar disk and the morning star stood in the sky. Fine ice crystals hovered gently on the seemingly lifeless body, which did not obey the will of its owner. The limbs were stiff with cold, the muscles weak and the head wanted to shatter. Everything turned around. With the dizziness, the nausea came like an overwhelming force that could no longer be restrained, not controlled, and no longer suppressed. With his last strength, the sixteen-year-old propped up on his hands and throwed up. He crawled to the stream to rinse his mouth with clear water. The wet shirt stuck to his skin.

Only then did he feel the cold creeping up on him. Involuntarily his body began to tremble. His inner voice forced in: 'Get up! Get up!'

He tried.

Crawling, he moved forward, finally he came staggering on his own feet and to the house. Only when he had reached the stairs to the porch did he notice the woman standing there wrapped in a blanket. His mother's worried look met his. He averted her eyes in embarrassment and went inside. She silently followed him and closed the door.

*****

The sun was already high up when the tribal police came down the gravel road into the valley. Then the car stopped in front of the log house. An officer got out and knocked on the front door. The owner opened.

“Hau, John Black Hawk. Is your son at home?”, asked the Officer with an apprehension in his voice. A deep wrinkle was formed over the nose of the man, who could be about John's age.

“I have three sons. Which one do you mean?”, John asks with an untouched voice.

“Your oldest one, Ryan.”

“Is he in trouble again?”

“This morning we had a heavy car accident, just around the corner. A drunken driver crashed with another car.

The car, an old Buick, after a flashover, went up in flames and burned out. The car belonged to Scott Waci Tate.

Ryan was seen with him, yesterday evening. Two charred human remains were found in the wreck. We do not know who else was in the car with Scott. But we found a buckle who could belong to your oldest one…” The officer was silent, awaiting.

“What did they do?”

“Illegally car race. Drunk driving and maybe some drugs.

Well, unfortunately. The boys are not to bring to reason.

Two of them had paid with their lives.”

John nodded.

“They brought Ryan back at dawn and drove away. He lies up in bed and is sleeping off his drinking spree.”

“Who was with Scott in the car?”

“I don’t know the boozing companions of my….”, John hesitated before continuing: “….my son. Ask him by yourself.”

The Officer nodded, went in to the house. After going up the stairs, he banged his fist against the door.

No answer.

He pushed the door open and pulled the blanket off the bed. The rascal lay like dead on the bed, wearing only black boxer shorts. When the officer shook him rudely, Ryan blinked his eyes. With a questioning look, he looked around as if he did not know where he was.

“You've been blasting yourself again. With drugs too?”

With contempt Ryan deflated air through his lips and closed his eyes again.

“Did you drive with Scott yesterday?”

Ryan don’t answer.

“Scott brought you home drunk. The right train of your buddy. He gets brandy and a bad pot for a minor. Who was the other one in Scotts car?”

Ryan remained silent. He had opened his eyes narrowly again. His eyes went to his own bare chest and the corners of his mouth defiantly bent down.

“Alright. Then I want to tell you that your two friends have caused a serious accident. They burnt in Scott's car this morning. Two charred humans remained in the wreck. Maybe you had more luck than mind.

Ryan jumped up from the bed and suddenly seemed wide awake.

“Was Scott just as drunk as you”, the Officer asked.

“Scott has always taken more than me”, Ryan answered with a heavy tongue.

“Scott was twenty-one. You’re just sixteen.”

Ryan remained silent.

“Who sat next to Scott?”

“I don’t know.”

“You could save us a great deal of work, Ryan.”

The officer took a deep breath before continuing.

“Maybe we can identify him. An analysis is too expensive for one who is missed from nobody.”

Ryan nodded.

“I can’t remember anything” “Think about it, Ryan!”

Ryan propped up his still too heavy head on his hands.

Then he shook it very slowly. “No. I do not know anything anymore. Absolutely nothing.”

Chapter 1 Night of the wolves

Since that night, two years ago, Ryan hasn’t touched Alcohol anymore. He struggled with self-indulgent hardness to regain his lost face. Before his father and himself.

When he first joined the sundance last summer, he felt his father's pride and his own. Ryan was eighteen now.

Together with his fifteen-year-old Brother Robert, Ryan pulled the wire taut from post to post and rebuilt broken patches.

“Shit!”, he cursed.

He injured his fingers with the barbed wire.

“Let it be, Robert. I will do the rest by myself.”

“An Indian knows no pain”, Robert grinned braving.

Ryan laughed.

“I know.”

Then he looked at the eleven-year-old Andy. His youngest brother worked unremitting with a pinto foal.

“He really believe, he can keep this foal”, Robert said.

“A Horse Ranch without Horses is no Ranch. I’m trying to come up with an idea”, Ryan answered.

Not only the horses were emaciated over the last winter.

Ryan put his hand on Robert's shoulder and smiled.

Robert's eyes were filled with worry.

“Father has given away two great brood mares. Far below the price.”

“We have three foals.”

“Right.”

Robert looked at Andy and the foal. He grinned. “Just look at them. They get along great. Soon Andy starts neighing.”

Ryan laughed.

“Do you really think we can keep the ranch and the horses, Ryan?”

“And what do you think about that?”

Ryan stared at his boot tips, shrugged his shoulders, and said nothing.

“I try to get my old Pontiac back on the road. Then I teach you to drive”, Ryan finally said.

Robert nodded.

How often he wished to do that. He stayed with Ryan to finish the necessary patchwork on the fence. Ryan gripped hammer and pincers with one hand as the work came to an end. He said: “It’s done. Let’s go for dinner. I’m hungry like a Wolfe”.

Robert picked up the packet of nails with his bloody fingers.

“Me too!”, he replied.

When Robert asked her to look at the injuries, the old woman smiled at her grandson. Lucy Black Hawk was very experienced in medicine. She never needed a doctor in her whole life. Many of the people visited likely her than a white doctor. The Lakota called them Wasicu Wakan, White Spirits, and they did not trust them. When Unci had bandaged Roberts hands, she sent a scrutinizing look at Ryan's hands. Ryan noticed that.

“Everything OK. I just looked“, he grinned.

Lucy shook her head and smiled.

“Chiseler”, she said gentle.

Mother, Anny Black Hawk, set the table. The dishes rattled softly. There was a smell of bean stew. The door opened. John and Andy were entering the room.

“Hm. Smells good, Anny”, John raved.

They were all hungry. Anny distributed the bean stew on the plates of the four men. As she scratched the rest out of the pot for herself and Lucy, Ryan and Robert looked at each other. For weeks there was this bean stew that Anny certainly knew how to prepare tasty and nobody had complained. It was filling people up.

After dinner, John lit his pipe. He sucked it with pleasure.

Deep worry lines had dug into his features. He seemed to think. After old tradition Ryan asked the father to speak. John nodded to him.

“Will you give me your hunting rifle? I want to get out with Two Moon.”

Two Moon was Ryan’s friend since he was a little boy.

John sucked two three times on his pipe, before he looked straight in Ryan’s eyes. Then a smile played around the corners of his mouth.

“I do not have much ammo left. Part it well. Make sure you catch at least an elk. You know where the gun is”.

John's eyes glittered in amusement.

“An elk… okay”, Ryan smiled amusedly.

His eyes seemed to shine as he stood up. He quickly got everything he needed to hunt. He disappeared with the words: “Toksa, the road is long.”

*****

The rifle in his hand and the ammunition packet in his dark blue shirts breast pocket, he set off on foot. In continuous running he went along the gravel road. The evening was still young and at some point a car would come along here.

As Ryan reached the main road, he slowed down. It was about seven miles to the next town, Kyle. Near Kyle lived his friend, whose father was trading in wood and building supplies. The shouting of playing children came through his ears. Dog bark occasionally mingled with it.

As far as the eye could see, the hilly grassland lay before him. He called it: The land where heaven touches the earth.

Ryan held the hunting rifle firmly in his hand and continued on the roadside. The distances did not frighten him. He never knew it differently. When his old Pontiac finally broke down a few months ago, he also walked that route. There were enough people in the reservation he had picked up. Therefore, he did not doubt that a car would stop and he could jump in. After about three miles, Ryan thought he heard an engine sound. He looked around. His senses had not deceived him. He stopped and turned to the red car. Ryan hoisted his right arm. An unmistakable sign that he was looking for a ride. The red Ford past him fast and braked sharply. A cloud of dust enveloped Ryan. He narrowed his eyes to slits as he walked to the stopped car. The passenger door opened.

Ryan pulled her up completely.

“Hi Sam. Do you pick me up?”

“My name is Samantha! You should know this, Ryan Black Hawk! Where do you wanna go, great warrior?”

“Two Moon”, Ryan grinned.

“If you don’t shoot me into my knee with your gun”, Samantha smiled. “What are you waiting for. Jump in.”

Ryan put the hunting rifle behind the seat, got in and closed the door.

Samantha shook slowly her head and put the pedal.

“Where did you learn to drive?”, Ryan asked skeptically.

“I have three brothers, all belonged to your bunch. The rest is creative work.”

Ryan chuckled.

“That you would ever let me drive you ...”

“What a coincidence”, Ryan grinned cheekily and watched her.

Blood rushed into her head. Her cheeks turned telltale red. She had tied the upper part of her hair with a red rubber. The tight, pink shirt marked off all body contours. Ryan's eyes wandered over the short denim skirt, along her slender, hazel legs to the leader boots. On the right arm, with every movement, two bangles rattled against each other. They sparkled as silvery as the earrings.

“You should not do that, Ryan!”

“What?”

“Look at me like that.”

Ryan raised his hands defensively, put them back on his legs and looked out the window.

“Where do you want to go, Sam?”

Samantha grimaced her face.

“Two Moon”, she answered curtly.

Ryan did not ask further. If Two Moon had a date with Samantha Crying Crow, then he probably had bad cards.

They had all gone to school together. Samantha was seventeen. She was pretty, that was undeniable. She always liked to dress up. Some of the guys took a closer look at this woman. Why not Two Moon? Shortly before Kyle Samantha turned left. The paved road dissolved into dust. At some point a few trailers appeared, then two of the usual Rez houses and finally piles of wood.

“Okay. Here we are”, Samantha said and stopped the car.

She waited, but made no move to get out. So Ryan got out and pulled the rifle behind the seat.

“Didn’t you say you want to go to Two Moon?”

“Yes, I said.”

“You do not get out the car?”

“No. I wanna go home. It just seemed safer to drop you off at the finish. It is evening.”

Ryan smiled and narrowed his eyes.

“Thanks Samantha.”

She smiled too.

Ever since they met, he had said that to her for the first time. She narrowed her eyes while she said: “Do not hurt yourself with that thing.”

Then she laughed.

Quickly and unexpectedly, Ryan leaned toward her in the car and pressed his lip against hers. Samantha opened them and let their tongues touch. She closed her eyes. Ryan seemed uncontrollable and withdrew from her after a few moves of his tongue. He hastily slammed the passenger door. Breathing fast, as if he had run all the way, he turned and walked to the house. Several times he wiped his lips with the back of his hand. It tasted strange. Lipstick probably. Behind him, he heard the car start.

Before him, Two Moon appeared.

“Hello Ryan! Were you hunting?”

“I want to do that.”

grinned smugly.

“Wasn’t it Sam's car that just left?”

“Yes.”

whistled softly through his teeth. “Is there something going on?”

“Dumbass. I drove hitchhiking. How else should I have come here?”

laughed.

“Come on in my friend!”

Ryan followed his friend into the house and closed the door behind him.

*****

A short time later, the friends drove with ’s fathers GMC truck direction Scenic. The sun sets to the west and dipped the land in a golden yellow aura. After leaving the old ghost town behind, turned east. The paved road went into a dirty road. The gravel road led through the middle of the prairie and miles straight ahead. A cloud of dust followed the truck.

“Sunglasses are in the glove compartment”, said finally.

Ryan reached in and gave his friend one of the glasses.

The other one he set on his own nose. Lost in thought, he looked out the window. Two lonely farmhouses appeared in the distance of the largely uninhabited area.

It was already outside the reservation.

“Hey! Are you sick? So taciturn I haven’t experienced you for a long time”, broke the silence.

Ryan smiled tiredly.

“Did Sam turned your head upside down?”

“Let's talk about something else. I urgently need some spare parts for the Pontiac so I can drive it again. If I'm lucky, only the starter is broken or the battery. He does not move anymore. I have been praying that the engine itself is still okay. I need the car.”

“Maybe the car is running out of fuel”, laughed.

“How stupid do you think am I?” hissed Ryan.

Shaking his head, he grinned finally.

“I'll help you, my friend. You do not have to hitchhike anymore .... with Sam.”

did not stop scoffing.

Ryan jokingly slapped his friend's arm.

laughed.

The road now led through valleys and lay in front of them. Like a flat snake. At some point a road crossed its way. Nothing but gravel and dust. turned right, direction southeast. The path led gently downhill.

“Maybe we should go buffalo hunting. I can almost see the buffaloes”, enthused .

“Hunting ban”, Ryan mumbled.

“I know. Maybe one will get lost”, said .

“A beautiful dream, my friend. But I'm looking for an elk.”

laughed amused.

“Here I often went with my father. There is plenty of game here. Deer and antelopes, turkeys, rabbits were playing at dusk at the Waterhole. Wildcats, foxes and lynxes I have already met there. But there is no trace of the wolves.”

Ryan just smiled.

The two young men got out of the car and put on their quilted jackets. The air was clear and cold. The sun had already lost power. The shadows slowly wandered into the valleys. The two friends drank coffee while they talked quietly. get out salt pretzels from a torn bag.

Then they left. Each of them carried his hunting rifle and a knife. With fast steps and alert eyes, so as not to drive off the game, they approached the waterhole. The two friends were silent, communicating only with looks and hand signals. Countless tracks crossed their path. Ryan smiled confidently and nodded. The hunters remained motionless in the high bank grass, which covered them.

There was a smell of wet grass and mud. Turkey vultures circled at high altitudes. On the opposite side of the lake, something was stirring. A deer appeared in the high reeds, stopped for a long time, and eyed suspiciously. At some point it seemed calm. It sensed no danger. The animal was reluctant to drink. A cub followed. and Ryan smiled. The rifles remained firmly in their hands. When the animals had left the shore, it remained calm. The oblique rays of the setting sun glittered on the water surface. Insects were buzzing around. A raccoon couple ran playfully along the riverside covered with tall grass.

Just as the sun disappeared on the horizon and dusk dominated the land a white-tailed deer stepped through the tall grass and cautiously followed the path down to the water. Ryan's eyes flashed. His heart pounded faster as he set the rifle. The animal eyed attentively before bent his head and slowly began to drink. The rifle clicked softly. Ryan held his breath. Suddenly the proud animal lifted its head and looked exactly in his direction. So the deer remained a few moments.

*****

Both, Ryan and , had heard the murmuring of the reed.

Ryan barely dared to breathe. He had set up his hunting rifle. Ready for a shot, he remained paralyzed. A second animal stepped out of the reeds into the glade. The other white-tailed deer stalked toward the waterhole and began to gesture aggressively. With lowered heads, the struggle for the privilege of the fittest and over the water started. The clash of their antlers echoed widely through the dusk. The hunters agreed with a look and a nod of their heads. The opportunity was favorable. They could not miss them, even if the animals provided a gripping show. Two shots were fired at the same time sounded like a single one. Seconds later, the animals dropped to their knees and remained motionless on the ground.

There fell a deep silence. No bird was near anymore.

Only the faint buzzing of insects hit Ryan's ears.

Carefully, the hunters left their cover and ran along the shore to the spot where the animals lay. Satisfied, they looked at the animals. They had been hit with one shot and died instantly. Both hunters touched the animals they had killed. Sacrificed sage and thanked the whitetailed deer people for sending their brothers. Then Ryan and sent their souls on the journey.

“Good shot”, Ryan broke the silence.

“Yes. But now we have a problem”, laughed.

“Or maybe two”, Ryan laughed. raised his head, looked up at the dark sky where the first stars were blinking, and inhaled the fresh air deep into his lungs.

“We have to be faster than the hunters of the night if we do not want to leave them our prey. They smell the fresh blood for miles”, he finally said.

“And quickly it gets so dark that we hardly see our hands in front of our eyes anymore. It promises to be an interesting evening.”

“You must have had better evenings,” quipped.

“What could be better than spending a summer night with his best friend in the wild and being surrounded by predators?”

Ryan laughed and pulled out his hunting knife.

Immediately he began to examine the prey and disassemble. Fresh blood ran down to the ground, colored the grass and was absorbed by the earth. Meanwhile, went to the truck to get the boxes in load area. The moonless night had come quickly.

Ryan listened attentively. He actually got a visit. Threatening hissing announced him. Ryan looked at his rifle, which was right next to him. The hiss was repeated, this time quieter. Ryan was pretty sure he was dealing with a Bobcat. The animal crept through the tall grass and seemed to observe the human hunter closely.

Ryan listened.

Behind him, the reeds rustled softly. Then silence. Would the shy hunter flee from the human being? Or was hunger stronger? Ryan did not dare move. The animal was lying in ambush behind him. Lynxes usually beat their prey themselves. Like his big brothers Wolf and Cougar, he avoided people. Surely Ryan and had invaded his hunting grounds. Lynxes also hunted in the dusk. Their paths had crossed. The Bobcat was brave. He jumped the kneeling Ryan directly in the neck. Although Ryan was prepared for it, the animal's weight threw him to the ground. Ryan rolled over his shoulders. The lynx was unable to bite. He too rolled over the ground. After a short time they tried to concentrate they was eyeball to eyeball. The brave Bobcat appeared to be terrified when he recognized a dreaded human being in his prey.

A shot banged. The Bobcat startled and fled. His will to survive was stronger than hunger. Ryan heard the laugh of his friend.

“The lynx probably thought you were an easy prey. Maybe also for a marriage-willing female.”

Ryan straightened and looked in the direction the Bobcat had disappeared.

“I think he needs glasses. And since when do I smell like a bobcat female”?, Ryan replied.

“A magnificent animal. Pity that I missed him”, regretted .

“If you were such a bad hunter, then I'm glad you did not hit me off.”

slapped Ryan's arm and laughed.

Then he put up two lamps so that the hunters could finish their work in the dark. Shadows and light played with every movement. When the animal was cut, light steam rose into the cold night. Ryan was sweating at work. Together, the friends packed their hunting booty in the boxes and carried them to the truck. The boxes were big enough to stow both animals. They were heavy, so the young men had to carry them in twos. The night was black and the stars were pale and blurry. Carefully, the two groped forward. The light of the flashlight dangling from 's belt was hardly an aid. handed the car keys to his friend.

“Would you like to drive?”

Ryan gave him a questioning look.

“Well, before you lose it completely ...”

“I almost got used to being driven”, he countered.

“Okay”, said. “Then give me the key back.”

“You could find a taste for it!”, Ryan hissed and immediately placed himself in the driver's seat.

laughed and got into the car.

Ryan let the GMC roll back and turned on the gravel road. He turned down the radio while spoke to him.

Ryan laughed now and then. He had always been the more restrained Person. That was already the case at school. But he had always thought up nonsense and persuaded to take part. If one of them appeared, the other one was quite near-by. When Scott Waci Tate crossed Ryan's path, her inseparable friendship had been severely tested. Scott was five years older than Ryan and one who literally walked over dead bodies. That must have impressed a fourteen-year-old strongly. Especially when Scott left Ryan at the wheel of his sports car. Ryan had to drink like a man and drive like the devil to subsist in the groupe. Ryan did that and became a respected gang member himself. Although he was the youngest, he had gained respect in no time. Only a few months later, by bet stakes and dealing with Marihuana, he had purchased an old Pontiac. had withdrawn. Only once, when he caught Ryan alone, had he tried to bring his friend to his senses. In vain. At that time, Ryan had thrown all his frustration at him.

What would be the purpose of completing the school well? Then to run the streets with a piece of paper in hand cockamamy. No chance to get an education. To find a job that would pay well enough to feed a family. blamed randomly after his head he should stop complaining and start fighting for a better future. Ryan had answered him uncalled-for. did not understand Ryan anymore and said every word was superfluous.

In spring, two years ago, the spook finally had an end.

The evil spirit Ryan had seized had left him. Two Moon had thanked Wakan Tanka for that. was the only one who had visited Ryan in the sobering-up cell of the tribal police. The bad part was that Ryan was sober wh-en he had to spend the three days in prison. The good part the friends talked to each other again. For the first time in his life, Ryan had asked someone for forgiveness. His remorse for his regained, never lost friend, , confessed.

Nobody could destroy this bond.

*****

The two young men reached the Black Hawk Ranch about one hour past midnight. The joy of the hunting success was great. Ryan got out of the car, pushed the door closed and headed for the house. A candle burned in the living room. Grandmother Lucy Black Hawk sat alone in the living room. She looked worriedly into Ryan's eyes. His beaming smile gave way to a serious facial expression and the question: “Unci, what's going on?”

“Anny had to be admitted to the hospital. It’s her heart.

Your dad is with her. Things are looking bad for her. Your brothers are outside in the barn. They are afraid. I pray for everyone, but I dreamed of wolfes creeping around our house.”

Ryan swallowed.

The queasy feeling in his throat remained. He lowered his eyes and nodded.

“ is waiting outside. We bring the kill, a whitetailed deer, into the house, before the wolves snatch it,” Ryan said softly.

Then he crouched in front of the little old woman and looked her in the eye. They sparkled like black sapphires in the dim light of a candle. The warm light illuminated hardly more than her face and gave the old woman a mysterious aura. Ryan knew that his grandmother was a medicine woman. He felt the touch of fear that was handed over him. But Ryan also felt the power of the old woman, who gave him safety.

“I'll help you,” Grandmother said softly.

Lucy stepped out of the door with her grandson. Robert and Andy Black Hawk must have heard the truck. They stood next to and talked quietly. looked into Ryan's serious face. He greeted his brothers and finally said only: “Let’s unload.”

When the work was finally done and the fresh meat was stored in the freezer, Ryan, Robert and stood on the porch and smoked.

“Can I do something for you?”, asked.

“Can you take me to the hospital?”, Ryan asked back.

“Of course, it’s a serious matter”, replied without hesitation.

Ryan nodded.

“Mother's heart. I'm scared”, he said softly.

He stubbed out the cigarette after three or four puffs.

noticed well the inner restlessness of his friend. He understood.

“Okay, let's go.”

It was already at three forty-five in the morning when Ryan entered the emergency room at the Indian Hospital at Pine Ridge. The light of dawn was already penetrating through the window into the room where his mother lay. Next to one of the two beds sat a stooped figure. His father did not move. He did not turn around either as Ryan quietly closed the door and stepped beside him.

Anny seemed to be deep in sleep. An infusion bottle and a small box hung above her bed. Lights danced on the monitor.

“How is she doing?”, Ryan asked slightly.

John raised his head and looked at him with tired eyes.

“Better”, he murmured. “Doctor Ethan said she got past its worst moments. She will have to stay for some time.

Relieved, Ryan nodded.

Carefully he sat down on the edge of the bed and put his hand on his mother's. She must have felt it. She blinked at him.

“Hi Mom”.

Weakly she smiled and closed her eyes again.

Only around nine o'clock father and son left the hospital.

Doctor Ethan had assured he would take good care for Anny. John got into his old pickup truck. Ryan sat in the passenger seat and slammed the door.

“Hopefully, the engine will start.”

John looked at his son, raised his eyebrows and smiled barely noticeable. Ryan crossed his arms and waited. It sounded as if the truck would start up again out of sheer defiance. As if the engine understood John's words. Ryan too, twisted his mouth into a grin. They left the place in a westerly direction, left Interstate 18 and followed the bumpy dust track towards Manderson. The rolling Prairie spread in front of them. Scattered pine trees lined the way. From time to time, Ryan looked at John. He had no intention of saying anything.

They were silent for a long time.

When they reached Manderson, John began to talk again.

“We will sell the horses. Anny needs the expensive medications the Indian Health Service won’t give to us.

Doctor Ethan said she can’t survive without this medicine.”

His words sounded level-headed and matter of fact. It was his decision. Ryan breathed air into his lungs. It was like a stabbing pain in his heart. He knew this decision was very difficult for his Father. The horses were her life.

Ryan, who had never contradicted his father in the last two years, didn’t dare now either. He struggled for breath. The horses were also his life, his future, the future of his brothers and the ranch. Ryan kept quiet. His thoughts worked at full speed. He had also made a decision and the idea had been there for a long time.

Now the time had come to talk about to his father.

Ryan asked, “What happens when the money we get from the sale of the horses is used up? What if mother needs surgery? Then she has to go to Rapid City or a special clinic.”

John kept an embarrassed silence.

Ryan noticed that his father was totally helpless and at a loss.

“Father, I'm thinking about leaving the ranch. I go to see the tribal council. Maybe Chief Red Eagle can help me to find a job.“

John was still silent. He seemed to consider.

“We have to tell Lucy, Robert and Andy”, he finally said dejectedly.

Ryan took a deep breath.

He knew only too well that his father's decision was very difficult.

*****

After John had talked to everyone, no one dared to contradict his decision. Her thoughts and pain were hard to hide. Andy let his anger run free and finally slammed the door behind him as he left the room. When Ryan stepped on the porch to light a cigarette, he looked at his youngest brother who led the piebald foal through the paddock. The little stallion followed him wherever he went. It almost looked like they were talking to each other. The little stallion behaved more like a dog.

Ryan grinned.

When he had smoked the cigarette, he went towards them. Andy had noticed Ryan and turned to him. The boy's traits were open, expressing all his anger, despair and fear. He could not hold back his tears.

“It's hard to tell his little brother, Nishunkala, that he has to leave”, Ryan said softly, stroking the little piebald who nibbled cheekily on his hand.

“Did you already tell your friend, your Kolà?”

“No”, Ryan replied and swallowed hard.

He did not avert his gaze from the black stallion.

“I'm looking for a job. Maybe I can preserve something.”

“You want to leave”?, Andy asked horrified.

Ryan avoided.

“I will visit Red Eagle. Maybe he can help me.”

It didn’t sound very confident. Andy also knew how jobs had been affected in the reservation. He sensed that his brother had little chance. Also Andy knew what possibilities existed to get a job in the reservation. Ryan had only learned ranch work, nothing else. A smile flitted Ryan's face. The small pinto tickled on his neck with his velvety lips. Ryan gently fondled his nostrils.

“I will ask father to give me his truck. We’ll win through in the end, Mishunkala, my little brother”, Ryan softly said. He patted Andy's arm in confidence. Then he got up and went back to the house.

*****

Early the next morning, Ryan drove with his father's truck to Pine Ridge and parked right in front of the red brick house. With a glimmer of hope for a job, he entered the tribal building.