Part of the Short Stories Series.
She was a unique horse that had a special sense of human understanding. Of all the horses in the tribe, this one stood out. She was spotted gray and had a black mane and dark tail. It was her swift speed that earned her the name, Native Winds.
Native Winds was the Chief’s horse. She was his most prized possession. He too had his own special sense of the world, making the match between them powerful. Whatever he needed to teach her, she learned quickly.
In many buffalo hunts over many Moon’s, Native Winds allowed the Chief to collect many hides by her speed and agility during the chase. The tribe respected them both for their generosity in providing for all members.
Native Winds never had any offspring. The Chief understood her magic was not to be diluted through mating. Native Winds was too perfect for rearing offspring, they could never be her equal, The Chief was a very wise man to protect her that way.
Through the numerous seasons of life, the man and animal walked together, ran together, raced together and fought together. The bond was never closer between human and horse. Surely the Great Father intended their lives to be this way for a long time, and it was during their zenith.
It was the final battle for the tribe’s freedom to exist in their ancient ways that brought the end to Native Winds and The Chief. All the surviving warriors of the fight spoke in reverence of how man and horse charged the enemy in defiance of the discharging weapons, counting many coup before being simultaneously brought down.
The legend still exists for both of them in the Native American Nations of the Plains. To experience that story firsthand, go to the Great Plains and stand alone in solitude among the vast, wide-open prairie. Breathe in deeply the cool, crisp air. Clear you mind of everything but the sounds you hear. Listen closely, you may detect the nearby galloping hooves of Native Winds with The Chief’s war cry pass you by and count coup upon you.