Montana Madness: A Novel - Sioux Dallas

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      Tokala

      two klah - means strong hearted (James Deerhunter)

      My daughter, Verta and I toured fifteen western states one summer, visiting historical sites, museums and meeting remarkable people. I loved all of them. Montana had breathtaking land and views.

      Another time I was visiting friends and they took me to an old fort which had been renovated into a restaurant. We had excellent food. I ate rattlesnake meat and thoroughly enjoyed. They then asked me if I would like Rocky Mountain Oysters. I love oysters and was eager to try them, wondering where they found oysters in the mountains. I took one bite and almost threw up as I spit it out. They laughed at me and they ate them. When I learned what they were, I was glad I had not tried them. They are the testicles of a calf, and sometimes sheep, deep fried and considered a delicacy in the west. When the calves are cut to keep them from breeding, the testicles are saved for mouth watering dishes. (Their words, not mine.)

      In the book I tell of gymkhanas. These are games of skill on horseback. A lot of them were instigated by the Plains Indians to keep in practice for their life style. Barrel Racing, Pole Bending, Rescue, Trail Class and games of skill on horseback.

      I speak of horses being so many hands. A hand is measured from the top of the withers (top of shoulder), down the front leg to the ground. A hand is four inches, or the width of a man’s hand. A fifteen two hand horse would be fifteen times four plus two or sixty-two inches. Five feet, two inches. A sixteen hand horse is sixteen times four or sixty-four inches at the withers.

      Yes, cattle rustling, horse stealing and murder still exist in the U. S. A.

      A male breeding stallion is called a sire.

      A female breeding mare is called a dam.

      The baby is spoken of as by a sire and out of a dam. (by Ranger out of Flower)

      A just born is a foal. A few months old and being weaned is a weanling.

      A year old is a yearling. A just born male horse is a colt; a new female horse is a filly. Filly foal - or - Colt foal.

      Crow hopping - all four legs stiff and jumping up and down as well as forward.

      I learned a lot about cattle but my heart broke when I learned that a Bobby calf is one killed at four days old for veal.

       Chapter One

      Thunder rolled and crashed over the ranch house until the walls shook. Frequent bursts of lightning lit the night sky as bright as day. Ginger Proudfoot had been awakened by the storm overhead, but was brought straight up in bed when her two Border Collies leaped on her bed and landed on her body.

      “Hey! You cowards. What’s wrong with you? You’ve heard storms before and you’re safe inside. Now move over.”

      The dogs continued to stare at her and then look toward her bedroom window that looked out over the barn and pastures. She finally heard the angry barks of the guard dogs, two Blue Heelers and two German Shepherds in the barn. It penetrated her sleepy brain that something was not right.

      Ginger hurriedly got out of bed and looked out the window. She always checked the barn with the prized personal horses, just before going to bed and then closed the big doors. The doors now stood open and were crashing back and forth in the strong wind.

      * * * * *

      Ginger’s parents had been killed in a flash flood as had the horses they were riding. She was only sixteen and her widower paternal, Grandfather Chaska Magi Proudfoot came back to live on the seventeen hundred acre ranch and take care of it until she became of age to take over. He was full blooded Comanche, but his beloved wife was Scots and Sioux. He called her Angel and she called him Mike.

      Grandfather Proudfoot had a contract with the BLM (Bureau of Land Management) to take care of several head of wild mustangs on about five hundred acres of the ranch. He gave them the land making sure the Big Horn River ran through it. Other ranchers also protected the mustangs.

      These mustangs were the old, sick, lame and very young who could not be adopted. The younger ones would probably be adopted, but the others would live out their lives in peace.

      Grandfather had died the year before at the age of ninety-six. Ginger had just finished college and had returned home with her degree in Animal Husbandry and a minor in Accounting. The Majestic Equine Ranch was dear to the heart of Grandfather whom she loved and she determined to do the best she could to make it grow. She loved the ranch life and didn’t mind the hard work. She was breeding and raising Quarter horses, training them for cutting cattle and for gymkhanas. At twenty-two she was the youngest ranch owner in the area.

      Forty horses, for workers’ use, were in a separate pasture, but the personally owned horses were kept in the barn at night and allowed out to graze and run during the day. The pasture horses had three-sided sheds for shelter. Borders’ horses were in a separate barn and pasture.

      Ginger exercised her horses every day in addition to the training of the horses she hoped to sell or the ones the boarders left to be trained. She refused to sell to someone just because they had the money. The buyer had to prove to her that they had a suitable place to keep the animal and were willing to care for it properly.

      * * * * *

      Quickly dragging on a pair of jeans and a green and blue flannel shirt, she stomped her feet into her old, worn boots, grabbed her rain-proof poncho and rain hat and ran out to the barn. Thankfully it wasn’t raining hard yet, but she knew the noise of the approaching storm would cause the horses to be jittery. Too, she couldn’t understand how the big doors had blown open. Where were the guard dogs?

      Stepping inside the barn she called soothingly to her four-legged babies.

      Just as she reached to flip the lights on, something dark rushed at her striking her on the head and knocking her down before running out the door. She was woozy and had trouble focusing her eyesight.

      Her heart beat rapidly, fearful that someone had harmed the horses or tried to steal them. They were all registered, healthy and well-cared for. Staggering up she had to push the house dogs off her as they tried to lick her face. She wondered why the guard dogs had not attacked the intruder.

      Feebly turning on the lights, she went down the aisle checking to see if the horses were all there and all right. Hearing the guard dogs barking and throwing themselves at the door, she opened the feed room where they had been shut up. She jumped out of the way as they rushed out angrily.

      Visitors, or non-horse owners, often thought the barn didn’t smell good. Ginger loved the aromatic odor of horses, feed, hay and, yes, sweat.

      In the first stall on her left was Hank Baxter’s sixteen-two hand liver chestnut, Sunset Serenade. Hank had been the foreman before twenty-two year old Ginger had been born. In the next stall was her favorite, a fifteen-two hand bay with dark points, War Shield. In the third stall was a big, rangy, sixteen hand piebald, Dakota Joe, one of the best cutting horses on the property. In the fourth stall was her Grandfather’s favorite, sixteen-two hand, Wind Eagle, a big, strong Appaloosa.

      On the right side in the fifth stall was Sierra Sioux a fifteen-two hand chestnut mare that had given them three beautiful babies that sold for an average of twenty-two thousand each as yearlings. In the sixth stall was sixteen-two hand Macho Man a tall Quarter/Thoroughbred who was everyone’s dream horse. He was excellent at just about anything that needed doing. In the seventh stall was a fourteen-two hand mustang mare, Shy Anne who had become a ranch favorite. In the last stall was a fifteen-two hand Palomino, Butter Cream, who had also been an excellent brood mare.

      The barn dogs were so agitated that Ginger knew there was more to be concerned about. She apologized to War Shield and quickly saddled him. Placing a rifle on the saddle, she checked to be sure she had plenty of ammunition. She knew a two legged animal had been responsible for attacking her. What was he doing in

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