"Tom Named By Horse-pt 4 - Revision update"

Howdy Friends! – This morning, as I finished polishing the final pages of “Tom Named By Horse,” the sun snuck through my window carrying the song of our resident mockingbird. I couldn’t help but chuckle as I clearly heard him sing, “It’s about time,” to George Harrison’s, “Here Comes The Sun.” … I’ll need one more run through before it’s ready for public eyes, but I’d like to share here an important scene from one of the final pages … We find Tom heading home to Soft Cloud after completing the tasks asked of him by Red Cloud, but what he finds as he nears home is troubling … I hope you enjoy ~ Gitty Up, Dutch

 To read earlier excerpts click HERE 

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He settled down just to enjoy the pleasures of a peaceful ride on a magnificent horse.  Thunder’s even stride soothed Tom completely and for hours, he rode lost in daydreams of what the future might hold for he and Soft Cloud, before he saw the lodges on the prairie ahead of him.

''What's that all about, Thunder?''  They loped in the direction of the village knowing his position to be about twenty miles north of his ranch and just thirty or so miles from Fort Laramie.  As they neared the Indian village, he recognized it to be the village of Red Cloud and Iron Shell.  In the weeks he had been gone they must have abandoned their winter village to relocate on the open prairie, but why here?

Tom was greeted at the camp’s edge by his friend Iron Shell.  Iron Shell had worked on his English and Tom had polished his Sioux.  The two friends no longer needed an interpreter.  Iron Shell informed Tom they had moved the village to be closer to Fort Laramie for his father was demanding to be heard by the leaders of the US Army.

      ''Why does Red Cloud want to speak with the Army?''

''My father is angered that the white man is now building a road to take the white man into our hunting grounds at the Black Hills beneath the Big Horn Mountain where the Powder River Runs into the Big Horn.  Red Cloud told the General that was our land, wrestled from the Crow nation.  He is also angered at the men who make marks on the prairie for another road.  A road he has been told will be made of iron.  Many Sioux, Cheyenne, and Arapaho will be coming to join my father's village here near Fort Laramie.  Their chiefs will speak with us one day soon of making war.  They speak of a great war when thousands of braves will stop the U.S. Army.  My father cannot allow these two roads into our hunting lands.  This land that was our ancestors’ since before time, and we stand today on all that is left of our proud nations.  Perhaps it is time now for us to make war.  Perhaps it is time for us to stop the white man who only wants to take the shiny metal that is in our land.  Perhaps it is time to stop the white man who kills our sacred buffalo only for it rot under the sun of the prairie.''  Iron Shell’s eyes showed his sadness.

''But your father is a leader of peace.  He has not wanted to make war with the US Army.'' 

''My father wants only peace but most white men are greedy, they force my father to listen to the war councils.  It is not for him alone to decide this great and terrible thing.  My father believes that perhaps there is time still, to save our sacred buffalo.  He believes it would be a terrible thing for the once mighty herd of buffalo to disappear from the great lands.  But he has seen a vision that tells him the white man will one day kill all the buffalo.

''The bones of our sacred buffalo already are scattered and white over the plains.  To the greedy white man, these things are not precious.  To the greedy white man the buffalo means money.  To the greedy white man, shiny metal means money.  To the ancient Sioux the buffalo means all of life.  The Sioux have no use for the shiny metals that lay buried in the great mountains.  We have no need to scar the face of those mountains that were here since before the Sioux and Cheyenne, Arapaho and Crow. Grandfather Mystery has given us all these things.  The white man must not be allowed to spoil them.  Already there is a great gathering of Chiefs on this spot, on our grasslands near the Fort Laramie.  Chief Spotted Tail, Standing Elk, and also Chief Dull Knife have come to talk with my father.  Many other Chiefs and their villages will be here soon.''  Iron Shell's dark eyes burned red with sadness.

Tom felt as if Iron Shell had delivered him a tremendous physical blow.

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To read earlier excerpts follow this link -

"Tom Named By Horse- Pt 1"

Howdy Friends,

 Many of our Coffee Clutch and Facebook friends know  I'm polishing and fixin' up my novel, Tom Named By Horse. For some, this is the first you've heard of it. Tom Named By Horse is the first novel I wrote, (long before "We'll Have The Summer,") and the first of a trilogy about Tom Named By Horse. An Historical Fiction spanning the years from 1850 to1910.  Of course it's a love story, and much more than that. The first book tells of a young Tom, orphaned on the prairie, sold to a sadistic buffalo hunter from whom he escapes – and immediately befriends Chief Red Cloud's granddaughter. Charged with a mission by Red Cloud, Tom selects the chief's granddaughter to travel with him. And that is just the beginning. This excerpt is from the first chapter, only days after escaping the miserable hider, Tom finds himself in Red Cloud's village. I hope you enjoy, and please leave your comments. Thanks!

Kessy & me

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Tom Named By Horse –  

They guided the wagon west, never speaking, both lost in their own thoughts. The day faded as they trudged along. Occasionally the brave would offer an outstretched arm, pointing the way. Darkness began to descend upon them, then the glow of many campfires became visible on the horizon. The boy kept the mules stepping out at a good pace and soon they drove into the Sioux village. When the wagon stopped they were quickly set upon by many interested Sioux, other braves, children, and women. Two Sioux women helped the wounded brave from the wagon. A small group of women carried the dead brave away.

He sat quietly watching, as those gathered round the wagon were told of the day's events in a language that he knew only a very few words. He allowed his hand to rest on the revolver at his side.  But was still watching with great interest, wondering how long he would need to sit there on the wagon. Wondering how long they would allow him to live, when a woman came to his side, and in perfect English asked “Do you have a name?”

The young man spun about. His eyes must have betrayed his surprise. “Yes, I speak English well, don’t I?”

“Yea ... I mean ... Do you ...I mean … why do you?”

“Why don’t you tell me your name first?” Her voice was soft and kind. Kind as her blue eyes, and soft as the feel of her hand on his knee. He wasn’t used to anyone asking his name. Or even anyone caring. He had long ago tired of “Boy.” What should he say? Until this very moment, the boy had never thought about a name. It had never been important. He sat looking at her, wondering why a white woman was in a Sioux camp.  She looked like a Sioux, but he knew she was white.

“Well?” she prodded.

“My name is ... Tom,” he said, taking the name of his horse.

“Hello, Tom. My name is Rebecca, but the Sioux call me Still Water. I have been with them many years now, but they still find me mysterious. Which I can often use to my advantage.”

He studied her.  She was a very pretty woman, and very white. She was dressed like the other women in the village, but she stood out with her fair hair, and blue eyes. Blue eyes like his own. 

Now, many hands were going through the contents of the wagon.

“Would you like to come with me and meet my family? And oh, did you know you are a hero?”  Tom climbed from the wagon and followed Still Water to her lodge. He had never been in a Sioux village before, much less one’s tipi. “I have asked a young brave to take care of your horse and mules.” Still Water told him as they walked.

“What will he do with them?”

“He will take them to the prairie where the Sioux ponies graze. The young boys watch over them there.” She raised the flap entrance to her lodge and signaled he should enter.

It was bigger inside than he imagined. Animal skins covered the floor. In the center a small fire made a peaceful warm light, which created dancing shadows on those seated round it. He stood inside the entrance and examined the faces of an old man, two grown braves, and one beautiful face of a young woman. All were seated cross-legged on the opposite side of the fire. No word or gesture was exchanged. Tom stood ridged, as if ordered to. His arms hung heavy at his side. The girl began to giggle, and then the young braves laughed and nodded. Their laughter made him uncomfortable, so he turned and fled to the outside.

From where he stood, Tom could see beyond the campfires, to where the horses were grazing. Thinking this would be a good time to be with an old friend, he found his way through the village to look for Tom Gray. As he hurried along to the moonlit open grassland, he could feel many eyes watching him.

It was a very large herd of horses. Perhaps hundreds. Most of them were boney and ribby. In the dark, with only the light of the stars and a thin slice of moon, he walked among the herd searching for his friend. Having no luck, he let go a loud whistle. Tom Gray responded instantly with his familiar nicker, and they found each other along the outer edge of the herd.

“What have I gotten us into?” Tom sat in the damp grass, watched the horses, and listened to their munching as they grazed. He'd always enjoyed just listening to his friend tear at the grass. This was a peaceful place. A place he could stay forever. All at once, the horses raised their heads, signaling someone’s approach.

“The mother of the injured brave you returned to us is in my lodge crying. Her son died in her arms.” Still Water told Tom in her soft, friendly voice.

Tom stood and faced her not knowing what he should do.

“The other brave you saved today, Iron Shell, is waiting at his father's lodge to meet with you. Come with me I will take you to him.”

He could feel the warmth of the small fires as they walked together through the sleepy camp. Mothers holding their children slept on blankets near their fires. Dogs followed them at a safe distance. Most of the lodges had fires inside, lighting the village in a fascinating way, with shafts of light escaping through slits in the buffalo hide walls, and open door flaps. As they walked along they assembled a line of followers, so that by the time they arrived at Iron Shell’s campfire close to twenty curious Sioux arrived with them.

Iron Shell rose to greet Tom, and signaled a place for him to sit, by the low fire. The ones who had followed formed a half circle behind them around the fire. Tom returned the greeting, and took the seat offered. Still Water found her place next to Iron Shell, who was seated beside his father, Chief Red Cloud.

A brave tossed a pile of branches to the fire, and for a few moments the group watched the flames jump, and a fine display of exploding sparks that drifted high overhead on the rising hot air. A bowl of meal and buffalo meat was passed around, and Tom took a healthy portion before passing it on. They watched the fire and ate for a long while, then when he was ready, Red Cloud turned to Still Water and spoke, using his hands to emphasize almost every word.

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I hope you enjoyed this tidbit – Please share your comments. Perhaps from time to time I'll post a few excerpts as I polish. …. Gitty Up ~ Dutch Henry

To read pt2- CLICK HERE