Chapter 5

1 ½ years after Five Horses’ Death

Running Buck lay awake in Red Bear’s teepee listening to the sounds of the night. The gentle rustling of the summer breeze through the leaves of the cottonwood trees, the melody of the cricket’s song , the call of the bullfrogs. Peaceful sounds. Running Buck wished with all his heart that his soul could find a moment of such peace.

Sitting up on his bed Running Buck surveyed the interior of his brother’s home. After adjusting to the dim light, his eyes rested upon Red Bear’s daughters sleeping with the innocence of childhood on their pallets. “Such lucky children,” he thought to himself. Red Bear was a good father and he was envious of the little girls.

His eyes moved to Red Bear and his wife, Wind Dancer, sleeping peacefully entwined in each other’s arms. Running Buck wondered sadly if he would ever find that kind of love with a woman. “Probably not,” he answered himself. “Who would want me?”

A great sweeping sadness overcame Running Buck as he remembered the events of earlier in the day and similar incidents in the months since Five Horses’ death. His shoulders hunched forward and his head hung low like a wounded
animal as the memories weighed heavily upon him. He could take no more.

Running Buck continued to be the victim of jokes, insults and physical abuse after his mother’s death. He felt the suspicious eyes of the Kiowa on his every movement. Even Red Bear’s wife, Wind Dancer, looked at him with distrust. She had made a place for him in their home after Five Horses died, but it was clear to Running Buck she was uncomfortable with his presence there.

While Five Horses was alive Running Buck could confide in his mother and she shared in his despair. Five Horses understood her son’s misery, the Kiowa showed her no kindness, either. Now that she was gone, Running Buck had no
confidant.

Little Bird, a white girl taken in a Kiowa raid on a passing wagon train, had filled the void in Running Buck’s life for a short while. But she had been returned to the white world leaving Running Buck alone, again.

The boy tried to talk to Red Bear about his life in the village but his tormentors were careful to inflict the worst of their punishment when his brother was away from the Kiowa village. Red Bear honestly didn’t see the most severe abuse. The minor bruises he did see were simply dismissed as the rivalries of adolescent boys. He knew some of the adults in the village did not approve of Running Buck’s presence but, in general, Red Bear felt his little brother was overreacting. His eyes could not be opened to the truth.

Since no one would listen, Running Buck simply stopped talking about the difficulties in his life. Instead, he held his pain and anguish deep within himself, swallowing more and more anger and humiliation until it began to eat at his insides. Lying awake at night, curled up in a tight ball, he fought the burning sensation and pain in his stomach that would not allow sleep to come.

At thirteen summers old, Running Buck’s primary responsibility in his brother’s household was to care for the horses. He had a quiet way with the animals and they responded well to him allowing him some much needed self-confidence in his abilities, but tending the horses, also, brought back the painful memories of Five Horses last days with them.

Next summer he would be old enough to accompany the adults in raiding or hunting parties, although even then, a boy’s duties consisted of caring for the horses and tending to the animal carcasses taken in the hunt. Running Buck dreamed of doing something important in a raid or dropping a mighty buffalo with one well placed arrow from his bow. The men would be impressed and he would be able to prove himself Kiowa. He looked forward to next summer.

But until then, he tended Red Bear’s horses.

Sliding off the back of his mount Running Buck quickly scanned the herd and accounted for each animal as they began to drink from the lake. Satisfied that all were present, he took a seat in the cool grass and leaned back against a large rock at the water’s edge watching the animals as they began to graze in the tall prairie grass.

Running Buck leaned his head back against the cool surface of the rock allowing the summer sun to warm his face. It felt good, almost relaxing. He had not slept well the night before and was tired. Closing his eyes, listening to the hypnotic sound of water lapping against the rock, he promised himself he would rest for just a moment.

Raven Wing, Dark Feather and Gray Wolf had been rabbit hunting and were returning to the village when the spotted Running Buck asleep against the rock. They had intended to take a dip in the lake to escape the summer sun but tormenting the half-breed would be more fun.

The three troublemakers quietly approached the sleeping boy and knelt down in the grass beside him, motioning to each other to be quiet. Raven Wing pulled a blade of grass from the earth and began to brush it across Running Buck’s face.

“Wake up, White Face,” Raven Wing teased as he continued to tickle Running Buck’s face with the grass, quickly removing it as the boy tried to brush it away in his half-sleep.

Squinting in the bright sunlight overhead, Running Buck opened his eyes to see the familiar forms of his tormentors hovering over him.

“You should not be asleep, White Face. What would our war chief think if he knew his horses were cared for in such a careless way?” taunted Raven Wing, shaking his head in disapproval.

Running Buck, clearly at a disadvantage with his back against the rock, tried to get to his feet, but was roughly pushed back to the ground by Gray Wolf and Dark Feather.

Raven Wing continued in his string of insults. “White Face, you spend so much time with horses you smell like one!”

Leaning forward into Running Buck’s face he sniffed the air and then quickly turned his head away. In mock disgust, he waved his hand back and forth under his nose. “White Face, you stink like a horse’s rump. You need a bath!”

The three older boys grabbed Running Buck’s arms and legs and carried him into the water, clearly amused with the struggling boy. Running Buck twisted and kicked at his captors with all his strength, but could not break free. Swinging him through the air the boys threw him into the water, laughing with glee as Running Buck splashed unceremoniously into the lake.

Running Buck quickly gained his footing and stood in the waist deep water glaring with anger filled eyes at Raven Wing and his friends. He tried to gather his dignity and began walking toward the shore as the boys gathered around him.

“You are not clean, yet, stinking half-breed. We will help you,” offered Dark Feather with feigned sincerity.

Lunging forward at Running Buck they pulled him further into the lake where the bottom dropped off sharply and pushed his head under, holding him just beneath the surface. Unprepared for the dunking, Running Buck took in water
and began to choke as the air left his lungs.

The boys released their hold and allowed Running Buck to raise his head above the surface gasping for air. Escape was impossible as the three boys surrounded him.

“My mother said Black Water Woman tried to drown White Face when he was born, but this evil white bastard took her mind and made her crazy. I think we should do it for her,” stated Gray Wolf with a malicious tone in his voice.

“Great,” thought Running Buck as the boys pushed him under the surface again. Now he was being blamed for Black Water Woman’s insanity.

Struggling against the pressure on his head and shoulders Running Buck began to panic. As he used the last remnants of air in his lungs, the boys released their hold and allowed him to break through the surface, his mind dazed, his body pleading for air. Somewhere in the distance he heard the sound of laughter.

The boy’s game was quickly becoming something much more dangerous. Running Buck genuinely began to fear for his life as the three pulled him under again. Fighting desperately against the hands holding him down, his lungs began to scream, his heart pounded as it threatened to explode from his chest. Darkness began to overtake him as he felt himself beginning to slip away. This was not how he wished to die.

Red Bear was returning to the village from a visit to a neighboring band of Cheyenne with a new mare. He had bargained back and forth with the Cheyenne chief for weeks until they agreed on a price for the animal. She was a
strong, gentle creature with excellent confirmation, her coat the color of red clay. Red Bear was delighted with his new prize and was certain she would serve as a trusted mount and excellent breeding stock, supplying the Kiowa with generations of fine horseflesh. He was anxious to show the horse to his brother and was fairly certain he could find Running Buck at the lake with his other animals.

Gray Wolf spotted the approaching war chief and alerted his companions. They released their hold on Running Buck and quickly swam to shore greeting Red Bear as they emerged from the water.

“We were swimming with your brother. I think he got a cramp. It is a good thing we were with him,” stated Raven Wing, completely comfortable with his lie. The other boys shook their heads in agreement.

Red Bear eyed the boys with suspicion, not quite believing their explanation. With a nod of his head he ordered them to leave.

Released from his watery grave, Running Buck fought his way to the surface with the small amount of strength left in his body, dazed and gasping for air. Regaining his senses, he realized his enemies were gone and slowly moved toward the shore wondering why they had let him live.

Unaware of what he had just interrupted, Red Bear stood on the bank waiting impatiently for Running Buck. The exhausted boy pulled himself from the water and staggered onto the bank, collapsing in the grass breathing heavily
and coughing up water.

“Thank you, Red Bear. They were trying to kill me,” Running Buck muttered as he rose to a sitting position understanding that his brother’s appearance had prevented his death.

“It was just a boy’s game that got out of hand,” rationalized Red Bear as he walked toward his brother.

Running Buck looked at Red Bear in disbelief. “A game!” he shouted in amazement. “They want me dead!”

“Running Buck, why would these boys want to harm you? They are good boys. There is no reason for such accusations.” Pausing for a moment Red Bear continued in an authoritative voice, “Perhaps you should try harder to make friends, not spend so much time alone. ”

Running Buck jumped to his feet. He could not believe his ears. “How can you be so blind! I want to stay away from them! Every time you go away they hurt me! Have you not seen the scars?”

Clearly injured by his brother’s disbelief, Running Buck continued, “They hate me! All the Kiowa hate me! I will never be accepted and you will not see that! When they kill me will you then understand?”

Running Buck had never shouted at his brother before but could not hold back his frustration and anger any longer. He nervously paced back and forth before Red Bear, his arms firmly crossed over his heaving chest.

Trying to calm a clearly agitated Running Buck, Red Bear reached for his brother’s shoulder, “I know at times it is difficult for you, brother, but when you are older…”

“If they have their way, I’m not going to get any older!” Running Buck interrupted, angrily pushing Red Bear away. Too hurt and angry to continue the conversation, Running Buck turned and stormed away. For the first time in his life he was angry with his brother.

Gathering his few belongings Running Buck quietly rose from his bed. He silently made his way across the teepee and stopped at the opening, a hard lump forming in his throat. Drawing a deep breath he turned to look at the man he loved so dearly. That love was no longer enough. It was time to leave.

Running Buck emerged from Red Bear’s teepee and let his eyes wander across the slumbering Kiowa village. He had spent his thirteen years among these people. He knew their names. He watched as they celebrated the births of children and grieved for departed loved ones. But always forced to watch from outside their circle. All he had ever wanted was to belong. If any one of these people could have given him the smallest indication he was welcome among them, it would have been enough. Five Horses had told him not to be afraid to look for his place in the world. Sadly, Running Buck was certain he would not find his place here.

He walked away from the village to Red Bear’s horses searching for the gray gelding that was his usual mount. A pang of guilt began to settle upon him as he realized if he left, there would be no one to care for the horses. How could he leave when Red Bear needed him? Running Buck began to have second thoughts about leaving.

He grew nervous as thoughts whirled through his mind. He knew next to nothing about the world beyond the village. Where would he go? Little Bird had taught him some of the white language, but would it be enough? Maybe this was a mistake.

Red Bear was a powerful chief. He could make the Kiowa listen. He could make them change. Things could be different if…..

Running Buck frowned as he realized he was fooling himself. How could Red Bear make the Kiowa listen when he would not listen himself?

He found the gelding and started to swing onto the horse’s back but stopped. The horse belonged to Red Bear, not him. It would not be right to take it. Patting the trusted animal’s neck Running Buck bid the gelding “goodbye” and began his walk to the white man’s world.

Red Bear woke early intending to speak to his brother. They had never before argued or even spoken a cross word to each other and their quarrel bothered him. Running Buck had gone to bed early without saying another word or even looking at Red Bear.

Running Buck had grown sullen and moody since Five Horses’ death. Having lost his own father at thirteen, Red Bear felt he understood the boy’s grief. He tried to be both brother and parent but had to admit much of the time he simply didn’t know how to deal with his younger brother. Red Bear did not know exactly what he had done to upset Running Buck so, but he was anxious to try to make things right between them. If he could find him. Red Bear grew worried as he noticed Running Buck’s belongings were gone. Had his brother been that angry with him?

Red Bear was startled to find Running Buck’s familiar footprints leading away from the teepee, through the horses and into the prairie. “Have I taught you no better than this?” he wondered to himself. Red Bear had spent a great deal of time teaching his brother to track and the necessity of covering your own. It disappointed him greatly that Running Buck had not paid attention to the lessons, until it dawned on him that his brother wanted to be found.

Red Bear easily followed Running Buck’s tracks through the day and into the evening. It had not taken long to catch up to the boy since he was on horseback and Running Buck was on foot but Red Bear stayed out of sight, not showing himself until night fell when his brother would be tired and ready to go home.

“You must remember to cover your tracks, little brother,” advised Red Bear as he entered Running Buck’s camp. The boy had built a small fire and was roasting a jack rabbit on a spit over the flames, watching the juices of the meat drip into the fire and sizzle as they danced on the hot coals.

Running Buck was not at all surprised by his brother’s appearance and did not look away from the rabbit until Red Bear stood directly in front of him.

“I am sorry we argued, Running Buck. Come. It is time to go home.”

Not yet wanting to look directly at his brother Running Buck cast his eyes downward and mumbled, “I’m not going back.”

Becoming a bit exasperated Red Bear tried again. “I apologize, brother. Please do not be angry with me.”

Running Buck raised his head and looked at his brother pausing for a moment before he spoke. “I am not angry with you, Red Bear. Not anymore. But I am not going back.”

Red Bear drew a deep breath and looked back at the boy. “Why was he being so difficult?” he wondered to himself. He was tempted to throw his brother over his shoulder and haul him back to the village kicking and screaming but
the sincerity in Running Buck’s voice and the desperate look on his face that told of his need to be understood made Red Bear reconsider.

Sighing heavily, he took a seat on the ground beside Running Buck and finally began to listen.

Running Buck was aware that at long last he had his brother’s attention and hesitated before speaking, searching for the words to make him understand. Drawing a deep breath he turned to face his brother and began.

“Red Bear, I have tried for so long to make you realize how hard it is for me to live with the Kiowa. They do not trust me. Their eyes follow me with suspicion as if at any moment I could bring the white man upon them. I have never even seen a white man.”

Running Buck stopped for a moment to make sure Red Bear was listening. “I am insulted, humiliated and beaten for their amusement. If it rains too much, it is my fault. If it does not rain enough, it is my fault. If the buffalo are scarce, it is my fault. I have done nothing wrong but to be fathered by a white man. They do not accept me and they never will.”

“You are Kiowa!” broke in Red Bear.

“Red Bear, please listen! To you I am Kiowa, but to the others I am nothing more than the bastard son of a white man and always will be. I despise that white man and if I was ever to find him, I would kill him a thousand times.”

Running Buck stopped to try to gauge his brother’s reaction. Speaking slowly to emphasize the importance of his words he continued, “I need to find a place where I belong. I can no longer live this way. My spirit dies a little more every day and I do not wish my life to end this way. Red Bear, I will love you until my heart no longer beats, but I cannot go back.”

Red Bear did not know how to respond. Could his brother’s life really be as miserable as he described? Needing a moment to think he diverted his eyes from his brother, looking at the ground, a tree, the fire, anything but the hopelessness in Running Buck’s face. Deep furrows formed on Red Bear’s brow and his eyes narrowed as he tried to make sense of the boy’s words.

Grasping at the first idea that presented itself he offered, “I will speak to the fathers of the three boys who torment you. Everything will be fine then.”

Running Buck was amazed that his bother could be so naïve. Five Horses had been right, he only saw what he wanted to see. As a war chief, Red Bear was well known for his ability to plan and carry out a large scale attack. He had never lead the Kiowa into a fight without first assessing all sides of a situation and taking precautions for any possible counter measures. How could a man so capable of seeing all things at once not see this?

Running Buck smiled briefly at his brother’s attempt. “It is not only Raven Wing and his friends, brother. No one wants me there. Not even your own wife.”

Taken back by the comment Red Bear reacted strongly, “That is not true! Wind Dancer loves you as I do!”

“No she doesn’t, Red Bear. She tolerates me because of you. That is all. When I was gone this morning was she concerned?”

The question surprised Red Bear, causing him to think for a moment before answering. Lowering his head slightly he answered quietly, “No.”

A silence fell between them as Red Bear began to allow himself to believe that perhaps there was some truth in Running Buck’s words. Slowly and sadly he resigned himself to the fact his brother would not be returning home with home. Finally, Red Bear asked, “How will you live? You are too young to be on your own. Where will you go?

“I have my bow and my knife,” responded Running Buck confidently, motioning to the large hunting knife that had been a gift from Red Bear to commemorate his thirteenth summer. “I will not be hungry.”

“Little Bird told me of the villages of white men where there are places to learn the white language. Surely I can find such a place.”

Red Bear shook his head in disapproval of the boy’s plan. “I fear for your safety, little brother. The whites are evil. Remember your father, Running Buck.”

“Little Bird told me not all white men act as my father did. If all whites were bad then Little Bird would have been bad, too, and she was not.”

“Little Bird was different,” rationalized Red Bear.

“How was she different, Red Bear? She was white,” questioned Running Buck.

Red Bear evaded the question for which he had no answer. “Your father’s people will not see you as white.”

“And my mother’s people see me only as white. Red Bear, I know the life I will have if I stay. Perhaps I will find something better if I go.”

Reluctant to give up, Red Bear placed his hands on his brother’s shoulders and made another plea. “Please return with me, brother. I will help you to find your place with our people. Please reconsider.”

Answering Red Bear was the hardest thing Running Buck had ever been forced to do. “I cannot, Red Bear. It is too late.” The look of disappointment in his brother’s face was almost too much for Running Buck to bear.

Realizing he would not win this battle, Red Bear rose to his feet and turned away as if to leave. Running Buck was not ready for him to go. They had not said goodbye. Hurrying to his feet he started after his brother. “Red Bear...”

“Wait,” Red Bear replied.

Red Bear disappeared into the trees surrounding the small camp and returned leading the gray gelding and his red mare.

“It is a long walk to the white world, Running Buck. You will need a good horse,” he said handing the reins of the red mare to the boy.

Shaking his head Running Buck refused to take the reins. “No, brother, she is yours. I cannot...”

Holding his hand up to silence the boy Red Bear continued, “She is a strong horse. She will serve you well. Take care of her.”

“Red Bear, I cannot take her.”

“Treat her well.”

Running Buck nodded his head in affirmation. Emotions that he did not wish to deal with began to surface as he took the reins from his brother. “Thank you.”

Red Bear drew a deep breath. “Go if you must, little brother, but remember, when the white world turns you away there is a place for you in my home.” Hesitating for a moment he added quietly, “You will always have a place in my heart.”

Red Bear removed one of his matching silver bracelets and slipped it on Running Buck’s wrist. “My father, White Eagle, and I wore these bracelets as a symbol of the bond between father and son. I removed it from his body the day he died and have worn them both since. Now they are a symbol of our bond as brothers.”

“No, Red Bear. You should save it for your own son.”

Chuckling for a moment in an attempt to lighten the somber mood Red Bear replied, “Wind Dancer gives me only daughters.”

Tears beginning to stream down his face, Running Buck firmly embraced his brother. Fighting the wave of emotion that threatened to overtake them both, Running Buck managed to whisper, “I love you, Red Bear.”

Holding his brother tightly in his arms Red Bear silently cursed the Kiowa beliefs that were driving his brother away from him. He feared greatly for Running Buck’s safety among the whites and was certain the boy would find no better treatment among them, but he had to let him go.

Reluctantly Red Bear released Running Buck from their embrace. The war chief and the half-breed each stood silently looking into the face of his brother allowing their eyes to speak the “good bye” neither of them could voice.

Without another word and with a heavy heart, Red Bear mounted the gray gelding and returned to his people.

Running Buck settled down by the fire for his first night on his own, dreaming of a better life, praying to any spirit who would listen.