Thunder Moon by Max Brand

Author:Max Brand [Brand, Max]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Western
Publisher: Roy Glashan's Library
Published: 2017-01-10T23:00:00+00:00

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CHAPTER XVIII.

THE tepee of the war chief stood toward the center of the village, and Lame Eagle himself was at the entrance to his spacious lodge, examining, in detail, a horse which had been presented to him that same day. It was a beautiful, cream-colored mustang, perfect in every part. Thunder Moon stood by and admired it in his turn.

“You have come to tell me if this is a good horse, Thunder Moon,” said the chief, “because you know all about horses.”

“My father knows,” said the young man modestly. “I only remember what I have heard him say. But if you wish me to speak of this horse, I should say that he would be good for hunting buffalo. But I would not ride him to battle where the race might be a long one and where there are not apt to be many other horses to change to.”

Lame Eagle frowned a little at this unpleasant news.

“Why do you tell me that? I was given fifty horses to choose among, and I chose this cream-colored horse.”

“He has a good color, and he will not sweat soon,” said the boy, “but his shoulders are not good. They should be more sloping. Do you see how upright they are? Note also, that he is too rangy, too long of back, too light in the loin to pack much weight. He would carry a boy or a small man very well. But he will be ruined if he runs very far under your weight.”

The war chief turned, and the feathers in his headdress nodded at the youth. The frown presently vanished from his face.

“You are a truth teller, Thunder Moon,” said he. “And some day you will grow so wise that you will know only old men. No others are able to put truth in the stomach and grow fat on it!”

“I don’t understand what you mean by that,” protested Thunder Moon.

“You will remember it some other day, however,” said the chief. “There is White Rain. He looks sad today, does he not?”

The medicine man went by with a long stride, muffled high about the face in his robe, so that only his hooked nose and his burning eyes showed above it.

To the war chief he raised a hand in salutation, and then he passed on.

“He did not see me,” said Thunder Moon grimly. “I have brought him more presents than any ten of the other young men of the nation, and yet he does not see me, Lame Eagle. Can you tell me why?”

“He grows old,” said the chief, “and old men sometimes see only their own thoughts.”

The young brave smiled, as grimly as before. “That answer,” said he, “went around a corner before it came to me.”

Lame Eagle shrugged his shoulders, as he saw that he would have to give a clearer explanation.

Then he said: “Where shall we talk?”

“It is serious talk,” remarked Thunder Moon.

“Then come with me into the tepee.”

They went in together. The chief sat opposite the

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