Chapter

Unlikely Companions

"Hoss, Hoss. Hey monster." He'd still been unable to shake off the title though the class was on to a new book. Travis stood beside his tormentor as the others stood on watching from the schoolhouse. "Have you ever thought about joining the circus? I'm serious. I once saw someone who was so ugly people paid to see him. You could probably make a lot of money that way. More money than you'd ever make on a ranch. My dad says you have to be pretty smart to run a ranch. I've heard the way you read. You're about as stupid as they come."

"Yeah I get it. I'm stupid and I'm ugly."

"What'd you say to me? Don't talk back to me." He slapped him on top his head. "You better know who it is you're talking to like that. Apologize. Tell me you're sorry." He yanked his hair. Socked his arm. "Say it Hoss! Say it!"

"I'm sorry." He humbled himself before Kyle's oppressively ugly demeanor.

"What?"

"I'm sorry." He pushed out, fighting the tears threatening to fall.

~.~

"Hey Hoss." He stood in the doorway. Hoss at the looking glass. "Pa's got a letter from Adam today. Hoss did you hear me? I said Pa's got a"

"Yeah I heard you."

"Well don't you want to read it?"

"Not right now Joe." He went over and plopped down on his bed.

"You want to play a game?"

"I'm busy Joe."

"You don't look busy."

"Well I am."

"You're always busy doing nothing at all. Just staring at yourself in the glass. You're nothing but a big galoot."

"What did you say to me?"

"You heard me you're nothing but a big galoot."

"Don't talk back to me you little rapscallion. You better know who it is you're talkin to." Little Joe got scared but instantly fired back.

"I know who it is I'm talking to. You're nothing but a big ugly galoot."

~.~

"Hoss, you're hurting me!" Ben heard his youngest scream from his room. "Get off! Get off!"

"Say sorry."

"I'm sorry!"

"Say sorry!"

"Please. I'm sorry!" Hoss had Joe pinned on the floor with the weight of him and he was striking the boy over and over while Little Joe was doing nothing but covering his own head with his arms and crying for Hoss to stop.

"Hoss!" His pa bellowed. "What is the matter with you?" The little boy squirmed out from underneath his brother and ran to his father crying. "What is the meaning of this?"

"He was calling me names. I don't like it."

Ben looked down at the small framed boy gripping tightly and burying his face in his trousers. "What did you say?" The boy looked up, face streaked in tears.

"I called him a galoot. I always call him that." He tried to justify. It was true. Hoss has never reacted like this before. He's always been good humored about it.

"Little Joe, that's not a nice thing to say. I don't want to hear you call him that anymore. Do you understand?" He buried his face again in shame. "Little Joe?" He nodded his head still buried in his father. "Apologize."

He knew he did already. Maybe his father didn't hear. "I'm sorry." He mumbled within the cloth.

"Go to Hopsing. Maybe he can get you cleaned up." He took off in flight out of the room, wiping away his tears as he ran. His pa stood in the doorway for a moment staring down at his teenaged son, digging deep to find the words.

"Hoss, I don't know what's gotten in to you lately, but I'm not liking what I'm seeing. Maybe you're upset about Adam leaving. Maybe you're having a difficult time adjusting to him being gone. I know we're all upset with him being gone. Maybe I overlooked the way you were feeling. I thought you were handling it well and now I'm not so sure with you boy. I was very proud of the way you stepped up when Adam left. Now it seems, lately you've been going off. Losing your temper. Taking it out on your Little Brother."

"I don't like being called fat."

"Hoss, people are going to call you names. It's a part of life. You can't go settling your arguments with your fists. You have to learn to control your emotions. Talk things out. Sometimes sure, you won't have a choice. You're going to have to fight to defend yourself. I have a feeling, this wasn't one of those times." His teenage son lowered his head in shame. "Do you see how much smaller he is than you. He's a six year old boy, Hoss. You're 13. What were you thinking?" The teen shrugged in reply. "You were best friends three weeks ago. What happened to you two? Do you still love your brother?"

"Of course I do."

"I believe you're telling me the truth. Little Joe on the other hand."

"What are you saying?"

"Little Joe was crying to me, just before you got home today asking what he'd done to make you not love him anymore. You know he's a fragile child. He's been through a lot these last few years. People coming in and out of his life, myself included. I'm afraid that's done nothing for his sense of security. You Hoss, remain the one constant. His last thread of security and now he's under the impression you hate him."

"I don't hate him."

"I think he needs to hear that from you." He nodded humbly.

~.~

He found Joe in the kitchen sitting on the counter-top. This was where Hopsing had cleaned him up. When Hoss walked in Hopsing went to straightening up the mess, waiting for Hoss to speak. "Hopsing. You mind if I have a moment with Joe?" Hopsing smiled and scooped up what was left of the mess and walked out. Little Joe lowered his head, kind of afraid to be left in the same room as Hoss. He didn't like that feeling. He didn't like being afraid of the person who used to be his best friend. "Little Joe." The tyke kept his head lowered. He was shutting himself away from Hoss. Hurt and afraid of his wrath. What more he could do to him if he gets mad. Which lately seemed to be at anything or at nothing at all. "Little Joe. I'm sorry. I was wrong for doin that to ya." The boy said nothing. He sighed. He wasn't sure what he could say to Joe to get him to forgive him. His relationship with his little brother from this day forward could forever be severed if he couldn't find a way to fix this. "Little Joe look at me. Did ya here me? I said I was sorry." He reached for Joe's arm which Joe yanked away. "Come on Little Joe. Don't be like that." Joe said nothing just sat there with a hurt scowl. When Hoss was just about ready to give up and walk away, Joe finally broke the silence.

"Do you hate me?" He finally asked. Hoss turned back.

"Dabburnit Little Joe, why you go ask such a silly question like that. Of course I don't hate you."

"Then why are you mad at me all the time."

"I ain't mad at you. I just, get mad sometimes. Just like you get mad sometimes.

"When I get mad I don't hurt you."

"You sure do try though don't you?"

"Am I gonna be big like you someday?"

"Well I don't know Little Joe. It's hard to think you'd be any bigger than a momma coon but maybe." Little Joe giggled at the reference. "You can fight just as mean though."

"Not like you." Joe responded sullenly.

"Duggunit' Little Joe. I said I was sorry."

~.~

He stared out at the open road ahead. He hated school. He hated what school was making him become. It was turning him angry. Making him into something he wasn't familiar with. Something he didn't like. Tearing him from his family. Causing an ever growing rift. He was watching his family slip further away. He was standing on the edge of a great precipice. The gorge growing ever wider with each passing day. His family was on the other side. He shook away the imagery and pushed his horse onward. He felt sick to his stomach the closer to town he got. If he could just get a break. A break was all he needed. He stopped his horse again. He would be fine if he could just get a break. He stared out at the thistle and the long pines beyond. His father would never know. One day couldn't hurt. He'd never been a bad boy before. He had minor gaffes. Nothing like this. Due to this, he recognized right off that it was the devil talking to him. Encouraging him to go. But the words were loud in his head. So loud they could not be ignored. One day. One day couldn't hurt. You just need a break.

He laid against the tree staring out at the lake. If only everyday could be like this one. The only thing missing was his fishing pole. But this was nice anyways. Still, it would be nice to have it. He'd have to remember to bring it tomorrow. Who was he kidding? He couldn't get away with this two days in a row. Why not? Couldn't he? His teacher would ask questions. It would definitely get back to his father. Oh then, the trouble he'd be in. Other kids stop going to school, why does he have to? If his teacher believes he's not going anymore, than she wouldn't ask questions. It wouldn't get back to his Pa.

~.~

"Ms. Harper. I wasn't here yesterday, because my Pa needed me at the ranch."

"Oh. I was concerned you'd gotten sick. There's been something floatin' around, you know."

"No mam. I'm just fine in that regard."

"Well good, I'm glad to hear. We've still got a little time before school starts. Why don't you go out and play a bit?"

"Actually mam, I just came by to tell you that my pa's going to need me for a little while longer. He sent me in to town to let you know."

"Oh. Well give your Pa my regards."

"Yes mam." He tipped his hat, and like that he was gone. That was easier than he thought it would be. His heart was giddy with excitement.

Still without his pole, he spent the second day swimming.

~.~

That night he snuck out with his fishing rod in hand and hid it behind the barn, so he could grab it easy-like in the morning. No way was he going to get away with walking past his father pole in hand without there being questions.

Nothing bit that next day but it was nice anyways. He decided to leave his rod behind a tree. It was less of a chance of someone coming across it way out here, than being able to keep hiding it behind the barn. Now he was committing two sins. Lying to his father and not putting his tools away after using them. He was becoming a regular bad boy.

He pulled his pole out from the spot behind the tree taking up his usual spot. Falling asleep at the serenity of it all. Two hours later he awoke to the tugging. He'd caught something. It took ten more minutes to pull it in.

Now what was he going to do with this fish? He hadn't considered before now, what he would do if he'd actually caught something. Now he had a decision to make. He'd hate to let a fish like this go. He couldn't take it home. Then his Pa would figure out his exploits. It was such a pretty fish. It bothered him to throw it back. His stomach was awfully rumbly. There was no real reason why he couldn't enjoy it now.

The fire was crackling pretty good. The shimmering lake lay before him and the smell of burning fish filled the air. Boy how his tummy grumbled. This was what life was about. This was what life should be about. At this moment all was right with the world. The heat burned at his front. There was even a strange warmth behind him that seemed to be misplaced. His mind came back from wherever far off place it was visiting. The warmth was out of place. He turned back to see if he could locate the source. All at once he was filled with dread. Oh No. The brush was on fire. The trees were soon to catch. He was going to burn the whole forest down. He couldn't let that happen. He immediately jumped into action. He slapped at the fire with his hat and danced over it. The flames licked at his calves. He shuffled around kicking dirt into them but to no avail. The flames seemed to grow faster than he could fight them. He was losing the battle. His stomach knotted. Countless homes would burn and it would all be his fault. He couldn't let that happen. His fool's soul should die in this fire 'fore he let that happen. He leaned on a tree and stomped again with his foot. As his focus was on the flames at his feet, a small black shadow whizzed by his head pulling him from his thoughts and embedded itself in the tree he leaned on for support, with a sickening thump. He looked at the object just above his right hand. The white ivory handle of a knife protruded out. Small decorative feathers swinging below. The knife had just enough traits of a Whiteman and just as much traits of an Indian for Hoss to not really be sure to which it belonged. His eyes darted back to the direction from whence the knife flew. A slender man sat tall on his horse, backed by two more of the same, giving him his answer. All three shirtless, giving him full view of their creamed coffee skin. Their dark hair fell over their shoulders. Their pants were white leather. At this point Hoss didn't know what was more terrifying; the fire at his feet or the fire which burned in their eyes. The lead brave jumped down and charged forward waving his arms and shouting wildly. Hoss swallowed his fear and instinctively stepped back. The Indian shoved him aside and stomped at the fire with his own foot. He shouted at him again, than shouted at his companions who dismounted and went to join in the efforts. They dumped their buffalo skins on the fire and stomped. Moments later, when the fire had been extinguished, the Indians relaxed and shared a smile between them which turned into a chortle and grew into full blown laughter. At this Hoss allowed himself to chuckle with them, to which the lead Indian stopped and stared him down, forcing Hoss to stop his laughter. He said something to him. Something he didn't understand. His tone of voice and body language suggested it wasn't pleasant. There was definitely a language barrier between them. At that moment he wished he knew what they were saying. At least the kids at his school insult him in words he understood. Well not always. Than he wondered, maybe it's better to not know?

"You here." He looked at the seriousness in his eyes. Those were words he did understand. Those were English words. "You burn down forest for one fish." His English was broken but discernible. Each word considered before being spoken. "Where is your…" The brave stopped. He didn't know how to finish. The word he sought escaped him. "Naa'a." He finally said. Hoss shook his head not understanding. "Naa'a." He drew his fingers down the length of his cheek then pointed at him. This was sign language. He was told about the Indians being able to speak with their hands. It wasn't enough to have tongue words the Whiteman couldn't understand, but they had to have finger words too. Hoss shook his head again. "Naa'a." The brave said again, lifting his arm above his head to indicate something great in size. At Hoss's confused stare he repeated his movements and said again. "Naa'a." Somehow Hoss thought he caught on to what he was asking.

"My Pa?" The Indian repeated the word, though with his accent the young brave made this simple word sound foreign.

"Pa?"

"Father?"

"Farder." The brave repeated this one with confidence. This word he was sure of. "Farder. Yes. Naa'a." He was asking where his father was. Would he be signing his own death warrant if he admitted to them there was no one around to protect him?

"He's out there, in the trees. He'll be back soon." His father didn't approve of lying. He'd approved less of him being dead.

"Naa'a no here." They called him on his deception. "We watch, long time. White boy lone." His heart skipped a beat. How long had they been watching him? He glanced behind him at the knife still protruding from the tree at face level and pondered his chances. The young brave smirked. "I think Cawtrite lose boy." Did he hear him correctly? The brave's friends laughed behind him. Was that an Indian word or did he say Cartwright? I know you. You Cawtrite boy. You are Adam's brodder. You are Horse because you are big boy. Hoss was too astounded to correct him. Horse not remember me. I am Young Wolf." The name was familiar. "Son of Chief Wannamucca." The recognition flooded back. It was years since he'd seen him. He was Adam's friend. He's grown a lot in a few years. He was a man now and he barred little resemblance to the boy that he once was. Hoss wondered if Adam would recognize him if he was looking at him now.

He relaxed a bit. "Oh boy, I sure am glad it's you. I guess that means you're not going to scalp me?" He joked. The braves face turned from humor to offence. Hoss scolded himself. Why would he say that? Young Wolf's face was serious and cold as he approached the boy. He reached his arm out and took hold of the knife at his side. The boy gulped uncomfortably. "You're not going to scalp me are you?" He asked seeking assurance. The brave looked at his companions and back at the stammering boy. He yanked the knife from its bedding and held the tip at young white's face.

"Maybe I should. Teach boy." Hoss gave a hard swallow. They held each other's gaze for a long while. The brave didn't think the boy could get any more paler than he was naturally, but somehow he managed. Hoss wasn't sure who snickered first. It seemed to happen all simultaneously. The braves relaxed and scoffed at his expense. "Boy see tribe man. He think scalp. Farder nice man, but not teach boy Whiteman scalp first. He gave his blade two quick swipes against his trousers, then placed it in its sheath and went back to his horse.

"Why Horse alone." Hoss glanced at his mount before realizing he was speaking of him. He shied up and shrugged his shoulders.

"Does farder know you here?"

"I don't reckon."

"Are you lost?" He asked mounting up.

"Not exactly."

"Boy should not be out lone. Many dangers for boy far from home." The Indian brave sat resolute. He considered his actions. Looking to his friends he spoke before getting their approval. "Horse, ready horse. We ride gether. I take home." He looked to the youngest, maybe Hoss's age. 13 or so. The middle one a year or two older. Young Wolf was definitely the leader of the group. He was Adam's age, so that would make him about 18 or 19.

They crossed into open pasture and the humble ranch house came into view. Hoss pulled the reins on his mount. "I think this is plenty far enough. I can take it the rest of the way. Thanks for the company."

"We can take you all way. No problem. We have come most way. No trouble go rest. Perhaps I stop in. Say hi to farder. It be many years."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why Horse? Your farder still like us or have we made enemy with him too? Is that why not teach son bout Whiteman crimes?"

"No, it's not that at all."

"Then what Horse?" He lowered his head. The brave answered wisely, saying the words Hoss couldn't say. "If we go house, then Horse must splain how we met. Horse not spose be out lone." At horses reaction he knew he was correct. He was pleased with himself for guessing. "Why is Horse out lone? Did you run way?"

"Not exactly."

"Yes. I think Horse did run way. Horse run from troubles, but I don't think Horse troubles at home." He's figuring it out. "If Horse troubles not at home, than where?" He couldn't answer that. He's figured too much out already. Boys like them would never understand. It was the middle boy who offered.

"White boys go school." Young Wolf considered.

"Horse not at school. I think Horse trouble at school. Does Horse run from school?"

"It just ain't for me, is all."

"Farder not know, Horse not go school." Hoss was embarrassed. How did a few native boys figure all this out so quickly? "Will Horse go school morrow?"

"Well, yessum, I guess I have to." The braves glanced at each other.

"If Horse not go school, we not know." He chuckled. "Unless, Horse be with us morrow." What? He continued at his confusion. "Would Horse like be with us morrow?" Was he inviting him? This felt like an invite. Lest his ears deceive him.

"Are you saying?"

"If you want, we see you morrow." He gave into a smile. This was an invite. The first real invitation he's gotten to do anything in a long time.

"Well, yessum." He stammered shyly. "I think I might."

"Morrow, we see you at lake."

"Yessury." His smile broadened. "I'll be there."

"Early."

"As early as I can. That's a promise." The braves smiled at their new pet.

Hoss came in still holding onto a smile. Ben wasn't sure what's changed, but Hoss has been a lot happier lately. Perhaps his little talk did something. Today he had the biggest smile he'd seen in a long time. Little Joe ran to him and the bulking teen lifted him into his arms.

"Howdy "Little Joe."

"You want to play a game?"

"I'd love to."

"Pee-ewe." The tyke scrunched and pinched his nostrils. "You stink." He recalled the fish and fire, and imagined the stench he was giving off.

"I guess I should get cleaned up first." He put the boy down and scurried off to his room before he'd be made to explain.

That night it wasn't fear and resentment that kept him awake. It was anticipation of an adventure like he'd never known before. Invited by Indian braves to hang out. Boy he'd never imagine something like that happening. They didn't know him for the loser the boy's at school knew him for. These braves saw him for the boy he was. They accepted him for the boy he was.

He wasn't sure what the day's adventures had in store for him. Maybe a day of fishing or swimming like Joe liked to do, or just a day of aimless wandering. Maybe they'd bring him to their home. He'd get to see the inside of a real-life Indian camp. They'd introduce him to family and friends. He'd get to talk with the elders. Maybe even the chief himself. Play with the Indian kids. His mind swirled with exhilaration.

~.~

He ate a hearty breakfast about as quick as he could manage.

"Number 2 sons' appetite has returned."

"Yessury. This is mighty fine cookin'. Cain't keep me away from this for too long."

"Hopsing velly pleased. You make Hopsing doubt his cooking."

"No sir'ee. This is about the finest cookin' this side of the Mississippi. Of course I ain't ever seen the other side." Hoss was in an exceptionally cheery mood. It warmed his heart to see it. His boy finished up his plate and rushed out of the house even kissing his brother as he left and off he went.

~.~

He met the braves bright and early at the spot they'd met the day before. They were waiting for him by the lake as he rode in. "This is Sagwa-ni Kasa." Young Wolf pointed to the frail thin boy about 14 or 15. "Uh, Little Feather, and this is Numi Tubu Honi." Hearing his name, the chubby one smiled shyly. Young wolf, stopped a moment considering the translation, than spoke again. "It means, looks like bear when walks."

"Walks Like Bear?" Hoss re-translated.

"Yes. Walks Like Bear."

"Howdy."

"Sagwa-ni Kasa, Numi Tubu Honi, esoo padzukatudu pooggoo. Horse."

"Horse. Pooggoo." Little Feather repeated.

"Horse have Indian name?" Hoss felt kind of embarrassed about the confusion. Not quite sure if it was worth correcting.

"Horse because he big boy." Young Wolf explained with confidence. Hoss rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. Sure let's go with that.

"You are ready Horse?"

"Ready for what?"

"Must go?" They all mounted their horses.

"Go?"

"We cannot be at lake day long. We must go."

"Yessum. I guess I am." The braves turned their mounts and he followed them into the heart of the forest.

As it turns out the days adventures wasn't anything he could ever imagine. It was better. The braves were working. They had work to do. It was their job to bring food back to the tribe. Not their job alone. Many scouts were sent out daily as the tribe was quite large. There were a lot of mouths to feed. As it turned out this small band was working to feed their tribe. In fact that is what they'd been doing the day prior when they helped Hoss put out his fire.

The braves were unsuccessful in catching anything that day. They parted ways empty handed but promised Hoss that the next day they were sure to get something. He was ecstatic that they would invite him out a second time. The second day wasn't looking very promising either. As the day wore on, he could see the patience of his new companions being tested. He figured that going home empty handed was probably not the normal way of things for them. He started to come to the conclusion that the reason why they were going home empty handed was likely because of Him. He was the odd man out. The figure that screws up the equation. They put too much faith in Hoss too soon and he was letting them down.

That feeling of worthlessness that he'd become accustomed too was beginning to creep back in. It wouldn't take these boys too long before they realized just how stupid he was and rejected him like the kids in his school had.

Young Wolf was at the lead while Little Feather and Walks Like Bear rode behind, leaving Hoss right in the middle. Little Feather and Walks Like Bear were always whispering to each other. They did so in their own language so Hoss could hardly see the point of their whispering. He didn't think that it was so much to keep their conversation from Young Wolf. Young Wolf knew what they were doing and gave no interest. Young Wolf was always focused on the catch. Hoss pretty much figured their conversations were about him. They whispered about him like the kids did at his school, when the kids thought they were being slick. Like Hoss was too stupid to realize he was being talked about. The braves were frustrated in him. They were talking about how bringing him on was a mistake and about letting him go.

Little Feather kicked his horse away from Walks Like Bear and strode next to him.

"Can I ask question Horse?" This was it. The end of a friendship. Even before it began. He lowered his head.

"Sure." Little Feather took a breath before he began.

"Why stomach hurt?"

"What?"

"You have stomach hurt. Why stomach hurt?"

"What do you mean?"

"We saw you in lake. You swim. No shirt. You have stomach hurt." Hoss wasn't swimming the day he met them. That could only mean they were watching him before that day. He wondered for how long he was being watched. "Your chest." Little Feather explained. "Numi Tubu Honi, first to see. Does, Farder hurt your chest?"

"Sagwa-ni Kasa." Young Wolf snapped. "Tuggwe. Napidzia." Hoss wasn't sure what Young Wolf said to him, but it was enough to silence Little Feather. Hoss could have left it at that. He wasn't sure he wanted to talk about it, but he didn't want to leave Little Feather with a bad impression of his pa. Something about these boys thinking the worst of his pa didn't sit well with him. It was an undeserved mark on his father's character.

"No." Hoss answered. "My father doesn't do this." Against Young Wolf's discomfort, Little Feather used this as an opening to ask further questions.

"How chest get hurt?"

"Troubles not at home." Young Wolf restated what he had said just a couple days prior when they rode Hoss home for the first time. He clarified to his brother's to save Hoss the trouble.

"Where do hurt come from? You fight lot?"

"I don't fight. People fight me."

"Who fight you? Men?" It was difficult for Hoss to admit, but admit it he did. For the first time in a long time he admitted what was happening to him. He had never really talked about it with anybody except Adam, and even Adam didn't know all of it. He only really knew what he had the privy of walking in on. He wondered with these boys growing up in the tribe if there would be a language barrier, like some things might get lost in translation; or if there was just too much of a cultural difference between them that they wouldn't understand what it was he was telling them. They were quiet and let him talk. Whether they understood or not, it felt good to finally tell someone. Even if they judged him for it, it wouldn't much matter anyways. He couldn't see how telling them would come back to haunt him other than being judged and rejected by them. He wouldn't be any worse off for it. Things would go back to the way things were before he met them. What mattered was that they had no relations to anybody he knew. Not to his family nor anybody in town.

When he had finished the three remained silent. After a moment Little Feather asked him.

"Why don't you fight them?" Hoss thought about it. That question was only natural. It's what everybody thought he should do. Adam would tell him that often. He was encouraged on multiple occasions by the kids at school to fight. Truth was he didn't really know why he didn't.

"I don't know." He answered honestly. "I guess I just don't much feel like it."

"Do you not know how to fight?"

"I know how. Adam taught me."

"Are you afraid?"

"No. I don't think so." He thought about it. "I don't know. Maybe. I'm just not a fighter is all."

"Walks Like Bear does not fight. Sometimes other brothers fight him. I fight them. I say to Walk Like Bear, sometimes have to fight, even when not want to. Still he does not fight."

"That's what Adam says. He thinks I should fight."

"Adam?"

"My older brother."

"Adam good brother?"

"Yeah, he's a good brother. He used to protect me, like you protect Walks Like Bear."

"He not protect anymore?"

"Naw, he's not here anymore."

"Did Adam die?"

"No, he just went away."

"Where go?"

"He went to school."

"Different school than you?"

"Yeah, college. He went all the way to Boston."

"That far away?"

"Yeah, that's far away."

"You miss him?"

"Yeah. I miss him."

"It sad your brothers go away. My brothers not go anywhere unless they go to Great Spirit. Then, they not come back."

"You have many brothers?"

"They are all my brothers. Numi Tubu Honi is my only brother, brother."

"What is Young Wolf?" Hoss was curious.

"Young Wolf is son of Chief Wanumucca."

"I know that. I thought you were too."

"No. Not us. Young Wolf like prince. One day Young Wolf be chief."

"But what is he to you?"

"Young Wolf is Mother's Sister's child."

"Your cousin?"

"Cousin." He nodded.

"Do you have any other brother, brothers? Not cousins?"

"No. Just Numi Tubu Honi. Walks Like Bear."

"How about Young Wolf? Does he have other brothers? Not cousins?"

"No brothers, but he have sister."

"He does?"

"Saratucci. Daughter of Chief Winemucca. She is like princess. Young Wolf is like prince."

"How old is she?"

"Too young for you." Little Feather chortled.

"Ah shucks. I wasn't thinking about me."

"She is this high." He indicated by raising his hand to his thigh.

"That's about the same as my little brother."

"Kawe yadooa." Young Wolf interrupted the two conversationalist reminding them of their task. Little Feather frowned.

"What'd he say?"

"He say, I talk too much."

"Come here." The two came over as Young Wolf jumped off his horse. "Look at this." He lifted some branches of a mid-sized bush. Hoss wasn't sure what it was Young Wolf was trying to show them.

"The branches that are broken. What kind of plant is it?"

"Elderberry." Hoss answered.

"Is it snapped or chewed?"

"Chewed I think."

"So it was eaten. What kind of animal eat this?"

"Well me for one."

"Yes, you and many people. Do people eat off of plant or gather?"

"If I was hungry enough." Little Feather laughed aloud but stifled it at Young Wolf's look of aggravation.

"Okay, okay." Hoss focused. "People gather."

"But this is chewed so not people." He glanced back at Little Feather who held an ornery smile. He was amused with Hoss. Hoss got him to laugh at his joke as silly as it was. He was the funny one. He was never the funny one. "What kind animal eat this plant?"

"Well lots of animals. Rabbits and squirrels and deer."

"How high is it?" He examined the height and imagined the beast.

"What you think kind of animal?" He considered.

"Look at these." Little Feather picked something off the dirt.

"That's poop!" Hoss scrunched his face. At his reaction Little Feather held it out to him taunting him with it.

"Are you afraid?"

"No." He shot back not wanting to be seen as squeamish. He wasn't so much squeamish of poop. He just wasn't used to holding poop in his bare hands.

Lone Wolf wasn't much of a conversationalist. Although he'd been the one to initially invite Hoss, he'd kind of taken a quite mien. Mostly what was spoken between them were tricks of the trade. He was always continuously teaching Hoss. Trying to get him to say anything more than that was like pulling teeth.

He was patient with Hoss. On the third day, he'd taught Hoss, step by step, how to set a snare for rabbits. They left the snare to see what else they could hunt. Before the day was over they went back to see if it had been successful. Hoss was downright elated when they saw a hare flailing about vigorously upon seeing the group approach.

Young Wolf pulled it from its entrapment. Hoss's thrill washed away as Young Wolf who held the creature by its hind legs swung it down onto the dirt. He startled at the brutality of it. It shrieked the most god awful cry. It sounded just like Little Joe sounded the day he pushed him into the door. He tensed. Hoss wanted to clasp his hands against his ears to block off the scream but stopped himself, not wanting to appear weak to these other boys. Instead he clenched his fist and tightened his shoulders feeling the screech reside there. Though the hare was dazed it was still kicking.

This wasn't the first time he'd heard a hare scream. He found an injured hare once hiding in the corner of their stables. When he reached for it, that one screamed too and fought with the same vitality. He was trying to help that one, though that one had no way of knowing Hoss's intentions. His pa was upset at him when he saw the scratches and bite marks on his hand and arms. Both his Pa and Hopsing seemed grateful the animal would probably die and thought Hoss foolish for trying to rescue it. They wanted to place blame upon this single creature for Hopsing's eaten garden.

This one sounded much like the other. This one though, they weren't trying to help. This one they were killing. Young Wolf swung it again and again slamming its head against the forest floor, until the fight was gone and the animal was still. Hoss flinched at each thud. He gave it back to Hoss to hold but stopped at Hoss's ill look. Young Wolf urged him to take the animal which Hoss submitted to. The hare still had a heartbeat. Fast against Hoss's fingers. Hoss held the hare between his hands as Young Wolf twisted its neck to finish off the kill. Hoss had to look away. He felt the muscles convulse and the heartbeat eventually stop. It was a horrible thing for Hoss to witness. To aid in. It was weird taking a life. This of course wasn't the first time he'd taken a life. He fished all the time. He never once found a hurt fish that he considered rehabilitating. So why was this so different? He wasn't sure what he expected hunting would be like. He didn't quite figure he'd react this way. He knew hunting was a necessary part of survival to many people, just like fishing. Wasn't it the same thing? Just fishing for creatures outside the water. He thought that when the time would come he'd be more open to it. But feeling its struggle and the life leaving the little creature, he couldn't help but mourn for what he had done.

Young Wolf saw it. The internal battle he was having and because he saw it, Little Feather and Walks Like Bear saw it too. Little Feathers first response was to smirk in mockery. Young Wolf's seriousness stifled him. He understood just then the white boy's hesitation. He knew he and the white boy were worlds apart. This was just one example of that.

"The Great Spirit has given us charge over the land." Young Wolf explained as the three rode him back to the lake. "This is a responsibility not to be taken lightly. Animals die. Animals kill. Some Animals grow in numbers while others perish. Our people must eat. Though we may appear superior we are in the great web of life. We too die and are killed. We are superior in just one way. We have the knowledge we need to keep this world balanced. If we care to use that knowledge. White men kill without caution. They see creature they kill creature. We see creature we think, should this creature be killed. Some seasons bears are strong in numbers. Some seasons they are not. The seasons they are not, elk might then be strong in numbers or rabbit or striped ones."

"Raccoon?"

"Racoon, yes."

"We look for the strong ones to kill, so they do not over power the land. This is our job, given to us by the Great Spirit. Do you understand?"

"Yes. I think so."

"We do one more thing that the white man does not do."

"What's that?"

"We say thank you."

"We do that too."

"You thank the great spirit, yes. That is good, but we thank the rabbit too for the sacrifice it has made." Hoss chewed on this.

"What in tarnation do you do that for? It's not like the rabbit had a choice." If it did he didn't think it would have agreed.

"Every life is special. This should never be forgotten. We are not owed the life of the rabbit. We should not forget what has been given to us. We must always be grateful."

~.~

"They accepted him as one of their own. Hoss didn't know too much about hunting. This wasn't the first time he'd gone out on hunting trips. His Pa has taken him and Adam a time or two, but with them he'd more just tagged along. Adam was the oldest and who his pa depended on to carry most of the burden. His father only really allowed him to come along so he wouldn't feel left out. In this case though the boy's expected him to work just as hard. They taught him though, what they knew, allowed him time to catch on. They had patience and kindness with him, like Will Reagan had when teaching him the ways of the ranch. They taught him many different ways to set up snares. Most days they'd come home with small critters; rabbits, squirrels, and coon. But that's not to say they didn't hunt for the large stuff too and on some days they'd get something. Of course then he might not see them for a few days after, if they caught the big stuff.

About three weeks in, after pulling in a deer and watching Young Wolf cut its throat with his hunter's knife to finish off the kill. He had washed the knife and himself by the lake. Instead of sheathing it when he was done, he turned to Hoss.

"Do you know where I get this knife?" Hoss answered with a shake of his head. "Your Farder Mr. Cartwright give it to me." He didn't know that. "I was young. Little older than your little brother."

"Joseph?"

"Adam and I play together. You were much small then."

"He used to talk about you."

"Horse. Your Farder not like other white men. I make friend Adam. He make friend Paiute. Other white man not like that. Not all white man bad. Not all white man want hurt Paiute. Some cautious. Some scared. Some white men hurt Paiute because scared. Not understand Paiute ways. Paiute must talk to white man. Make them understand. Your brother smart man, but not know more to education than learning in building. True smart is learning where one lives. You see my people. One hundred years ago not important to learn Whiteman's language. Now Whiteman live where we live. Now we must learn of Whiteman. We must know Whiteman language so we can talk with Whiteman. Teach them Paiute ways. Adam was good friend. He taught me many words. I teach my people many words. It has been long time since I have friend like Adam. I forget many words too." Young Wolf glanced at his brothers before continuing. Little Feather and Walks Like Bear stood by and let Young Wolf speak. He looked back at Hoss. "You think, I take you out every day because I'm good friend, but that is not true. My reasons are selfish. You teach me words. Words I forget. I teach you land. This is good trade." Hoss scowled. Little Feather felt bad for Horse. He could tell the words of Young Wolf had hurt him. The words did have a sting to them. Hoss was hoping Young Wolf would see him as a friend like he saw Adam. As he thought, he guessed it was okay he didn't. At least he was friendly. Even if they weren't friends. At least he didn't mock or ridicule him like the kids at his school.

Little feather was the talkative one. What Young Wolf lacked in personality, Little Feather made up for. He became the friend Hoss had always hoped for. Perhaps Little Feather felt close to Hoss because of their age, or maybe it was just who he was as a person. Just the friendliest boy he ever did meet. Except his little brother, that was at least until Joe's fiery temper would rear its ugly head. They talked about home and what it's like growing up in the tribe. He asked Hoss a lot of questions about his life and what it's like for him growing up on a ranch. They talked about family and food and money and belongings. They talked about fishing and hunting and trees and animals. About cliffs and meadows and about the other tribes in the area. Little Feather has been to every tribe in Nevada. Young Wolf would go all the time and he'd go with Young Wolf. They'd go out on hunting parties with the other tribes. They'd also go to trade with them. Sometimes they'd go to talk about the white man and what they were doing to them and what they planned on doing back. The talked about getting things in exchange for paper versus giving things to someone that they could actually use or eat. Hoss just explained that you could take that same paper and give it to someone else in exchange for something you could use or eat. Little Feather thought that was a queer way of doing things. An unnecessary step in the process. Little Feather asked him what it was like to sleep in a bed. Little Feather had never slept in a bed. He always slept on the ground. Well not on the ground, ground. Little Feather was adamant about not letting Horse think he slept on the dirt. He always slept on a bed of blankets. Though he was curious about Horse, he never saw himself as being poor. Just different. He was rich. But a different kind of rich.

Walks Like Bear was a shy boy. Didn't do much talking of any kind except in his own language and even those words were few and far between. Any questions he might have he usually asked through his brothers in his own language. Hoss knew Walks Like Bear knew English, but maybe he wasn't very comfortable speaking it, or maybe he wasn't very comfortable with Hoss, or maybe he's just shy all around. Kind of chubby like himself. He could see why he might be shy. He was a short chubby though, not large and round like Hoss was. Little Feather was about the same height as Hoss, maybe an inch or two shorter. Skinny though like Little Joe. He'd imagine that'd be about the build his little brother would grow to have.

~.~

"See those prints?" Young Wolf asks.

"Yessum."

"Are they Whiteman or Brave?"

"Whiteman, I imagine. The grounds been trompled all through." The young men laughed.

"Not Whiteman."

"Injun?"

"No."

"Bandeleros."

"No."

"Well are you going to give me a hint?"

"Not man."

"Woman?" They laughed.

"Not man, not woman and not child."

"Horse. Of course. I can make them out now."

"Not a horse either."

"What then?" Little Feather fanned his hands out at the side of his head, sneaking the answer to Hoss.

"Now how can you tell that?" He asked disbelieving.

"Feet smaller and in line."

"Ahhh."

"But before I see that, I see this." He pointed to the trees the prints walked between. There were scars in the tree. Little Feather jumped from his horse, fanned his ears again and made a scraping motion against the bark; imitating a deer. "The females and babies aren't going to show that. But you can look for other signs. See the instep."

~.~

That evening, about six weeks in, as they made their way back to the house Young Wolf spoke.

"Tomorrow we were thinking of going on a night hunt."

"A night hunt. How do you expect to see anything at night?"

"It's different. But in a lot of ways it is easier. The moon makes things stand out in a way you don't get in the sunlight." Hoss's face spoke his feelings. "You don't believe me?" Young Wolf asked amused. "Would you like to come with us? I can show you what I mean. You will see the difference." He thought about it, this would change things. He'd have to sneak out tomorrow. Something about a night adventure he just couldn't pass up. He nodded eagerly. "Tomorrow, by the lake when the moon is high."

"I'll be there."

He'd made the mistake of sleeping in this morning. It was hard to fall asleep the night before thinking about the adventure to come and with no responsibilities and nowhere to be he took advantage of the morning. It was Little Joe that woke him. Not softly neither. He was awarded with the full weight of his little brother as he jumped on him, bony knees meeting his ribs. Though it was a shock it didn't hurt all that bad. The boy was too thin to cause any real damage. Once he came into his senses he took hold of his brother before he could escape and dug his fingers into his side. "You little scamp." Too which Joe seized and giggled aloud, fighting to get out of his hold.

"Pa told me to wake you up." He said between laughter.

"Not like that." He retorted. When Joe was just about out of breath, he let up and Joe squirmed away ran out the door laughing the whole way.

He got himself dressed and played off his languor and ate breakfast under scrutinizing eyes.

"Don't you have someplace you've got to be getting off to?" His Pa pushed.

"Yes sir." He finished up and walked out.

Without any direction he went back to the lake and spent the day to himself, even taking in a midday nap. He knew he would need the sleep for the night to come. He made it back to the house hitting the sack early, not because he was tired. More so, hoping the others would take his cue and follow suit. Little Joe went to bed at the normal time. Hopsing and his Pa stayed up a while longer. He could hear Hopsing retire. It wasn't until about ten his father called it a night. It came none too soon.

He didn't want to chance opening and closing his door. Sneaking across the living room floor and chancing the front door. His window was the quickest way out. Little Joe was his biggest contender. Fortunate for him he was a heavy sleeper. He may not like going to bed but once he was out he was out. Except for when he was having night terrors which happened a lot after Ma died, but he hasn't had too many of those recently. Tonight he was sleeping soundly. He scurried across to the stable and saddled his horse by the light of the moon. He walked it a ways from the house. When he thought he was far enough he mounted up and rode like the wind hoping he hadn't missed his friends. He was late but his friends had waited for him.

They found tracks just like Young Wolf promised they would, and it wasn't hard neither once he knew what to look for. He could see the shadow affect off of the prints. It gave them features that couldn't be seen during the day. Hoss was just tickled with excitement. The others were tickled too at their toys delight.

He got back to bed before the sun came up not thinking he could fall asleep, but fall asleep he did. It was his Pa that woke him up this time.

"Sleeping in two days in a row." His Pa chided. Hoss shot up to his voice.

"Sorry Pa." He scrambled out from beneath his covers frightened and scurried to his bureau. With red shot eyes and trembling arms, he fumbled through the contents of his drawer. He wasn't sure what time it was, but it was much later than it should be. Boy he really screwed up this time. His father watched him in bewilderment. He dressed in a hurry and made his way to the breakfast table looking scuffled and askew. They hadn't eaten without him. Why would they? Of course they'd wake him up for school. He shoveled down a good helping and kissed his brother as he walked out the door. Watching him dress and then eat like he had, bewildered Ben, than amused him. He was curious. Does he not know? He couldn't let this carry on any longer. He walked out the door and watched as Hoss finished securing the saddle on his horse in the yard.

"Where are you going?"

"To school, Pa." He responded innocently.

"Hoss, its Saturday." The boy stopped to consider. Then smiled meagerly with embarrassment. He scratched his head wondering what his next move was. "That's okay. Leave the horse saddled. I was thinking about making a trip into town. Thought you might like to join." He felt pretty exhausted he could use a day of rest, but he could make it through a trip to town. He hasn't seen it in a while, though his father didn't know that. He'd almost forgotten what it looked like.

~.~

Hoss stared at the ground following the tracks on the main path, which grew in number as they got closer. It was mostly horse and man and even wagon wheels, which again was horse and man, but he spotted other things too, deer and rabbit and squirrel. They didn't walk the path so much as cross over it. Their first stop was picking up supplies from the feed store, then the local market.

"Can we get some sweets Pa?" The little one asks.

"Sure, you can pick yourselves out a few pieces. You want some sweets Hoss?" He knew that was a silly question as he asked it.

"Sure Pa." But his son was someplace else. He was staring at a stack of books on the rack. He walked to them engrossed in what he was seeing. He lowered down and stared at one book in particular. Frederick Mason, Scats and Tracks, An Illustrative Guide. He pulled it from the pile and turned the pages. There was an abundance of information for being such a thin book. Animals listed in alphabetical order. Each page containing sketches of footprints and the animals they belonged to. There was descriptive texts to depict how they would appear on land. He sure would love to have this book. He'd never thought he'd say that about a book, but did this really count as a book? Young Wolf would be surprised at how smart he would get. "Pa, can I get this." His Pa, was surprised when his middle went to the books in the first place, disregarding the temptations of sweets. He watched in wonderment as his boy pulled the book and flipped through the pages. Not wanting to disturb him.

"Yeah sure." His middle has never been interested in books like Adam has. Perhaps it was because they hadn't found the right subject matter.

"I got some pieces for you Hoss." Little Joe held up his bag of prizes. Normally Hoss would pick out his own, otherwise Little Joe was liable to get the type of sweets only he enjoyed most of all, in hopes that Hoss would decide he didn't want them and hand them over as was the case here. Hoss didn't call him on it though. He accepted his offering with amiable regard.

~.~

"Mr. Cartwright!" The call came from up the street as they left the shop. Ben let out a heavy sigh. "You think you can steal that land right out from underneath me?" He was creating quite a scene, drawing the attention of bystanders.

"Come on." Ben ushered his children the other direction.

"Don't you walk away from me!" Ben heard the thudding of footsteps fast approaching. He turned to face the man as he was right up on them.

"Mr. McCabe. I won that deal fair and square. Now if you'll excuse me." He turned his back on him again.

"You look at me when I'm talking to you." McCabe grabbed at his arm and forced Ben to face him again.

"I'm with my kids." Ben said evenly. McCabe glanced down at the two peering from behind their pa.

"Don't use your kids as an excuse. Not when they're just as much a part of this as you are." Ben could feel his face turning flush.

"Is there a problem here?" The deputy interposed as he approached. McCabe suppressed his displeasure at being interrupted.

"No." Ben excused. "It was just a misunderstanding." McCabe bit down his anger. He stood upright taking his hand from Cartwright's arm.

"William's." Ben nodded to the young lawman before turning his back on McCabe again.

The crowd had begun to stare as the father took his two sons across the street, to his awaiting buggy, never once looking back.

One of these days Cartwright, I'm going to force you to face me. He thought. He passed a glance towards William's before turning his back on him. William's watched McCabe walk back up the street to the saloon.

He went over to Ben who was lifting Joe into the cart.

"You sure everything's alright?"

"Yeah, everything's fine. He's just blowing off steam."

"You don't want to press charges or anything?"

"For what? Really, nothing happened. He talked that's it."

"Well if he causes anymore trouble you let me know."

"Roy's still out of town?" Ben asked the young deputy.

"Yes sir. Looks like he'll be out the rest of the week. The trial in Silver Springs took longer than expected. It's been just me and Browns holding down the fort."

"Well, you keep up the good work. You're doing a fine job sonny. I'll be sure to give Roy my reference when he returns." McCabe watched the interaction of Ben and the deputy. He watched as William's tipped his hat with a halfcocked smile and strode away. McCabe brooded as he dipped inside the Red Dragon Saloon.

"Pa, why is that man mad at you?" Joe asked when William's was out of earshot.

"Son. It's just grown up stuff."

"It looked like he wanted to fight you."

"I wouldn't worry about that. He's all bark and no bite." The father assured.

"I wouldn't have let him talk to me like that. I would have walloped him a good one."

"I know you would have Joe, and that's not a good way of thinking. That way of thinking is going to get you into trouble one day. You can't go around settling your differences with your fist. You're going to have to learn that." Hoss lowered his head and let his father's words sink in. He's heard his father say this so many times before. It was a lesson he took to heart. Maybe this was the real reason why he'd never fought the kids at school. He didn't want to disappoint his pa. Fortunately he didn't have those problems to worry about any more. The problems he had before were no longer his problems.

~.~

The moon was a pale one and high in the sky. Hoss with his book in hand and Little Joe at his side, surveyed the ground in front of the house. "Do you see the way the moonlight shines off the tracks? It's a lot different hunting tracks in the night as it is in the day. Some people might think it's harder, but sometimes it's just the opposite. The moon offers a different kind of light. It cast a deeper shadow which causes each print to stand out more. In the daylight it doesn't do that. There's hardly any shadow at all especially when the sun is right overhead. The footprints will look more flat. Look out over there. See that? This is a perfect night. Look how far you could see those tracks go." Little Joe feigned interest and danced in and out of the hoof prints marking the land with his own small prints. Hoss averted the attention to Joe's prints. "See that Little Joe? Look how much smaller your feet are? There's a heavier impact with your left foot than with your right, probably because your left leg is stronger. Look here too. See your right foot? It kind of slides a little."

Ben watched his son's actions amused. His son has been happier lately, ever since he had that talk with him, something had changed in him. It's like he found himself again. He's found this new interest and delved head first into it. Most of all it warmed his heart to see the two getting along. He and Little Joe have gone back to being the best of friends they once were. Little Joe is happiest being at his brothers side.