Chapter VI
Little Fox smiled at her uncle. "Uncle, I'd like you to meet, Running Buck." She said, getting to her feet and embracing the older man. Stepping back, she held out her hand, motioning for Buck to join them. Buck cautiously greeted Yellow Hawk in Kiowa. He wondered if Yellow Hawk knew he was part white.
"I am truly honored to be a guest in your home, Yellow Hawk." Yellow Hawk's grey eyes inspected Buck from top to bottom, making Buck feel small.
"You are new to this area, correct, Brother Running Buck?" Buck nodded, holding his breath. Yellow Hawk smiled broadly and clapped Buck on the back. "Then we must have feast to welcome and honor you properly!"
"Thank you, Yellow Hawk." Buck told him. He felt tears form in his eyes, overwhelmed with emotion. "I would like to rest after the ordeal with those angry ranchers. Do they really think the Kiowa are responsible for taking their cattle? Is it possible they are wrong and it's another tribe or even done by someone looking to blame both tribes for their own gain?" Yellow Hawk shrugged his shoulders. So there was a mystery to be solved. Buck wondered if he was told to come here for this purpose.
Yellow Hawk glanced in Little Fox's direction. "We must prepare for the feast," he said, taking his niece by the arm. "We'll let you rest now, Brother Running Buck." Yellow Hawk and Little Fox left the teepee, leaving Buck in peaceful silence.
So many thoughts ran through Buck's mind. He wondered if Jimmy knew about this and if he didn't; how was Buck going to find him so he'll know? Buck pushed the thoughts away as he lay down on his bed roll.
Evening fell when Buck woke up; he didn't realize how much the ordeal by the stream had taken out of him until then. Subsequently changing his clothes he left the teepee. Now dressed to fit more among the Kiowa he felt his heart lift a bit as he walked among the village. Buck could see the large bonfire constructed in the center of the village. The feast was coming together now. He could recall days like this from his childhood. He let out a sigh; those days were long gone.
"What troubles you, Brother Running Buck?" a melodious voice whispered gently in his ear from the shadows. Buck stopped abruptly. His eyes searched the shadows for the owner of the beautiful voice. He felt himself instantly drawn to it. When his eyes had adjusted to the dim light, he saw a young woman.
Her braided hair shone in the moonlight. To Buck she was prettier than Little Fox. Stepping closer to her, Buck noticed she came up to his chest. "What are you called, little one?" he inquired, speaking in Kiowa.
Her face brightened up with a wide smile. She slipped her hands into his. "I am Prancing Calf." Giving his hand a tug, Prancing Calf led Buck back to the bonfire. "Come, the feast waits for you, Running Buck." Once the light of the fire hit Prancing Calf's delicate features, Buck thought her to be even more beautiful. Buck felt his breath hitch in his throat. Her high cheekbones were very Kiowa, but like Little Fox, she too had features of another tribe. A little curious, he asked her about her family.
"My mother is Kiowa and my father was Cheyenne. I live her with my mother, Tiny Sparrow and two brothers, Buffalo Eyes and Grey Owl. My father, Red Dog was killed by a rock slide four summers ago."
Buck's heart went out to her. He did note she was honest up front about her family, even more so than Little Fox. It made Buck feel better and enjoyed himself during the feast as it lasted into the night.