Jesse has inherited his Grandfather's ranch. Now he must fight his father to keep it while he must honor his Grandfather's last wish of seeking Coyote. The White Wolf Chapter 41 Crooked Tail by Barbara Allan Copyright © 2013, 2014 Barbara Allan All Rights Reserved.

Author's Note: Thank you Hope for your encouragement and help in editing. Thank you Sephrena for making the post appear professional. Most of all thank you to all who have commented or left Kudos. For those who have left comments, I answer them with what I hope is something witty and appreciated. ~Barbara.

Debbie walked into the kitchen, “What do you need?”

“There are some potatoes by the sink. If you can get Merry to help you wash them and the salad greens, I'll finish getting the pork chops ready.”

“How are you going to cook them?”

“I thought I would pan fry them. Do you have a better suggestion?”

“I guess after tangling with those rustlers you probably had your fill of fire grilled beef.”

“My food choices remind me that I used to be a boy. I could eat grilled steaks every meal. If not beef then anything else that can be thrown on a grill. My favorite has always been fresh caught fish. I loved when Granddad and I would go fishing and camping. He would gut the fish and grill them right by the lake. The smokey flavor was great with just a little salt and pepper.

“Anyway, I'm just going to dredge these in some flour with a little salt and pepper. After frying them, I am going to make a gravy out of the drippings for the potatoes. I would mash the potatoes, but I didn't want to have to peel them then cut them up, etc. That sounded like too much work after our long day of shopping.”

Debbie went and got Merry and they started washing the vegetables. They placed the potatoes on the rack in the oven to bake them. It was faster in the microwave, but it just doesn't taste the same. They were sitting at the bar watching Jesse when Two Bears walked into the kitchen with Gabriel.

Debbie was the first to see them, “Oh hi.”

Merry turn around looking and stated, “That's just Two Bears.” She turned back to the table to continue tearing up lettuce for a salad.

The old man laughed, “There is nothing like a child to humble one. When one gets too full of himself, a child can put you in your place immediately.”

“Debbie, let me introduce you to Mr. Two Bears. Mr. Two Bears this is my sister, Debbie. Mr. Two Bears is Jesse's mentor.”

“It is very nice to meet you Mr. Two Bears.”

“The pleasure is all mine, stated the older man. “But don't call me mister. It makes me feel older than I am. Please call me Matthew or just Two Bears.”

“Gabriel said you are Jesse's mentor?”

“Yes, you could call me that. It is my task to teach the young wolf the ways of a shaman.”

“Shaman? You mean like a medicine man?”

“Yes those are the words that the white man called the teachers of the People. Although, the names are inaccurate. There is more to being a shaman than dancing with rattles and chanting a few phrases. There is no word in the ancient language that translates to shaman, but we use it for those who need to call us something.”

“Dinner is almost ready,” said the wolf. “Let's set the table and then we can discuss this while we eat.

“Debbie, what do you know about the Native American culture?” asked Jesse.

"You can't live in Montana without learning some of their ways, but it is like learning about another country. I know that they refer to themselves as the People or the First Nations, but that is about it. I went to school with a few, but they didn't share their history with me. I was jealous of the jet black hair of the girl in my class. She kept it long and well cared for. She didn't dress any different from the rest of us. Like most children I was so wrapped up in myself, I didn't take the time to get to know her."

"That is typical of most people," said Two Bears. "Here in Montana we probably know more about Canada that your average American, and we probably know more about Canada than we do about Florida. People get caught up in their day to day lives just trying to feed, clothe and house their families. They miss out on the richness of their own country and the neighboring countries. Most Americans know almost nothing of England or any of the countries from which they immigrated unless they are either a first or second generation immigrant. The heritage of the Hispanic and African probably stayed with those races longer as their skin color or sheer volume of family kept them more isolated. If you were to take an American of African decent back to Africa, he would stick out almost as bad as someone with European decent. It is hard for the People to maintain their identity.

"The People struggle with their identity as they are few in number and have assimilated into the white man's world. Still there are pockets of the People who refuse to give up their heritage. A good example that most Americans know about are the Navajo. There are others, but do they remember the ancient language. The Cherokee had their own newspaper and written language. Does anyone speak it any more? Being an Indian, I still don't know as much about my people as maybe I should.

"Around these parts were mostly Plains Indians, the Sioux, the Blackfoot, Flathead and Crow. The Blackfoot call the Great Spirit Napi or Old Man. The Crow refer to him as Old Man Coyote. The Flathead consider Coyote as a trickster. The Blackfoot don't have Coyote in their legends. He does play parts in the legends of the other tribes I named. Although, I think He came more from the Southwest religions. Even there, they don't worship him. He was a mere player in the beginning of the world. Some of the tribes even mock him as one who was easily tricked. I relate to Coyote as a messenger from the Great Spirit. He is a friend that I respect because he has some powers, but he gets those from the Great Spirit and gives powers to those to whom the Great Spirit decides should have them. He is easier to believe than angels with wings."

"When I think back to my school days," said the sister, "we were taught about famous leaders and battles and wars that were fought between peoples. We know almost nothing about the actual people. You want to compare them to the people around you, but you don't know the base of their faith or sometimes in what they believe. We were taught that the serfs in Europe were hardly more than slaves paying taxes to the government for protection. What did they do for fun or entertainment. They loved and had children, but was there more to their lives than living in a frighten squalor.

"We learned in history about Native Americans living in teepees," continue the sister, "but some tribes lived in lodges. Some tribes were Sun worshipers, and some were mound builders. Most of our lessons were on how to survive in this modern world, and by that, I mean, How to read, How to add and subtract, How to write. We were taught some sciences, but how many people remember what a stamen is. If it doesn't apply to their day to day lives, why remember a fact. And children very seldom see past their own wants and desires. They're not mature enough to understand life or time to want to understand history or how the world works."

"You sound as old as me," laughed the old shaman.

"This last year of college was a bit rough. I interned at a nursing home. I made friends of some of the more lively patience. The head nurse told me not to get too close, so you don't tear yourself apart when one of them dies, but I am glad I spent sometime with them. I saw things through their lonely lives and matured. I would sit and listen to their tales. I wish I had recorded some of them. Some were World War II vets and some were just ordinary people who grew too old to care for themselves. Their families may come to visit, but the families had busied themselves with the burdens of daily living.

"I don't regret getting to know my patients. It was sad when they would pass away, The most restless of my patients were Native Americans. The one lesson I learned from them is that dying is a part of life. In dying, our spirits are released to be with God or the Great Spirit. I think some of the Indians resented having to live in a frail body that kept them trapped on this earth."

The old man sighed, "I have lost many a friend from thinking themselves to death as they could no longer pull the bow. They didn't realize the importance of their knowledge to pass on to the younger generations. Many ways of the ancient people have died with them as they withheld this knowledge. They thought the younger people too arrogant or lazy to want to learn, and they resented it when the younger ones would come when the old ones mind began to fade. As the younger generations grew and learned the importance of the knowledge of the old ways, it was too late to learn from the old ones."

"Is that why I was chosen to become a shaman, because I loved to learn from my grandparents?"

"I'm sure that played a part. Answering the call of the wolf was another part. Because you didn't resent dressing as a girl for your grandmother was still another part. It let you see both sides of the gender equation. Although, I'm sure that dressing as a girl and being one is totally different."

While the others talked, Gabriel had been entertaining the small girl. She was showing signs of sleepiness. "Merry and I are going to bed. Y'all can sit here all night, but there is a little one who needs her sleep."

"Gabe, if you will get the bath started I come up and help her take a bath," said his sister.

"Humans take too many baths," the little girl pouted.

"I agree." laughed the old bear.

"Tonight, she won't have to. I'll help her get into her PJ's and read her a story. That way you can continue to visit." The cowboy picked the little girl up and carried her up the stairs to her room. He pulled her shirt up over head, and helped her out of her shoes socks and pants. "Which PJ's do you want to wear tonight?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said.

"Which are your favorites?"

"Maybe the green ones."

He reached in the drawer and pulled out a set of green pajamas. They consisted of a pair shorts and a pull over shirt. He held the shorts open where she could step into them and he helped her pull them up. "Hold your hands up" She stuck her arms in the air and he slipped the shirt over head. He tickled her bare tummy as he pulled the shirt down.

"Let's go to the bathroom and brush your teeth and then we will come back and crawl into bed."

They walked into the bath. The future father stepped outside while the little girl urinated. He stepped back inside to help pull her pants back up. And he supervised her brushing her teeth. They walked back into the little girl's room. He sat on the bed and picked up her hair brush. "What story do you want me to read tonight?"

"Can you make up a story like my wolf daddy does?"

"I can try. Here you lie down as I will see what I can do. I'm sure it won't be as good as the one your daddy tells.

"There once was a wolf named Crooked Tail."

"Why was he called Crooked Tail."

"That is what this story is about. The wolf was out hunting and had lain down behind a bush watching deer feeding in this high meadow. He was waiting for them to get closer to his bush before he jumped out to catch one. The moon has half full, but he had chosen his hiding place well. It was dark and the deer couldn't see him. The wolf laid perfectly still and concentrated on the deer. He was watching the deer in the meadow so intently that he didn't hear the noise behind him. It was the time of year when the bucks chase the does."

"Why are they chasing the does?"

"That is another story for later. So the wolf was laying behind the bush watching. A big buck came running down the trail and didn't see the wolf laying in the shadows The wolf had his tail stuck straight out behind him, but he didn't know that it lay in the trail. The large buck came to where he could see the deer. He started prancing and jumping up and down to get the attention of the does. The wolf slowly looked back over his shoulder and saw the large sharp antlers on the bucks head. The wolf thought I had better lay still or the buck might stick me with his antlers. The buck didn't see the wolf and as he was jumping around, he jumped right on the wolf's tail.

"The wolf yelped and which scared all the deer into the woods. The buck watched all his does scatter into the woods and then saw the wolf running away. The wolf ran all the way back to his den. His tail hurt so bad he didn't know what to do. His mate came in a little while later and saw him lying licking his tail where it had been stepped on. She asked her mate what happened and he told her a big buck jumped on his tail. His mate tried to keep from laughing. His tail was broken where it was jumped on. He had to lie around the den for a moon until it quit hurting enough he could go hunting again. His tail was never straight after that night, so his friends started calling him Crooked Tail. Do you know what he learned that night his tail was stepped on? Never lie down with your tail stuck out behind you.

"How was that for a story?"

When the little wolf didn't answer he looked over to where she was sleeping. He kissed her head and said, "Sweet dreams little one" and went back downstairs.