THE WAGER

chapter 1

Reverend john louis, a short, heavyset,dark haired man, was the missionary who'd been visiting karan's village for many years. He sat opposite the chief in this tipi now, his expression  serious as he tried to explain the fears he harbored in heart about the future. "My people are coming to your land,Karan. There is no longer any way to stop them. Already you've seen the railroad cross the plains and now the towns are here and growing. I have just received words that your land is now being called Liga territory, and there is much talk about it becoming a state."

The chief spoke in disgust. "so it is not enough that we have touched the paper with the pen and that we want to be left alone to live in peace."

"You know as well as I do that as long as one man has something another man wants, there can be o peace. Greed is an ugly thing, karan. There are many who try to take want no matter what the law says or who it belongs to."

The two men regarded each other in silence. "I have an idea that might help you and your people," Reverend john offered, and at karan's questioning look, he went on. " You know I've been teaching Yash for many years now." He waited  until the the chief nodded, then continued, "Well' I've taught him everything I can. He's smart and quick, and I want him to go east to school. If he learns how to deal with the white men on their terms, he'll be able to help you with with those who are sure to come."

"Why do the white men not send their young ones to us so they  can learn our ways?"

"Because most white have little respect for other people's ways. They think their ways is the only way. That's why it's important we convince your grandson to do this. He has a sharp mind,and since his father was a white man, he'll have insight into both sides. It would be good for the tribe if he were to do this.'

Karan regarded the missionary in silence for a moment, knowing he was right. Karan had watched as the whites crossed the cheyenne land, first in their wagon trains, then in stage coaches, and now on trains. He had seen the destruction they wrought on the land. "I will speak with him."

When Reverend louis had gone, Karan sent for Yash.  As he waited for him to come, he thought about the reverend's advice. Karan knew he was a good friend to his people.

He agreed with him that Yash was a quick learner, but he wondered how is grandson would do, completely surrounded by whites. In spite  of  his mother's urgings, Yash had never fully embraced his father's heritage, and the chief worried that he would balk at the idea of leaving the the only home he'd ever know. At sound of a horse coming into the camp, Karan looked up to see his grandson riding toward him. He knew he would soon have his answer.

The chief's summons had surprised Yash , and he'd hurried back to camp quickly. He reined in before him and dismounted quickly. "You wanted me?"

"I have spoken with reverend louis. He thinks it would be wise if you learned more of the white man's ways"

Yash frowned. "why? I am cheyenne."

"It will make you stronger to defend our tribe."

"I  will defend our tribe with my bow and lance as my grandfather does!"

Karan  lifted his gaze to the east. In the distance, dark clouds stained the horizon. He suddenly felt old, his insight to the future sapping his strength and spirit. " The whites  are no longer  just crossing our land. They are coming to take what is ours."

"Then we will fight them," he stated with the boldness of youth, "We will drive them away."

"They are too many, Yash." He put a steadying hand on his grandson's arm, understanding his eagerness to fight and wanting to temper it. "We must find a better way. You could do that  if you went to the white man's school."

"Why do you say their way is a better way?"

"I do not. I only know that they will not turn back and we must do what we can to survive. You alone among our people, have the power to help."

Yash frowned. Karan had always treated him as a true cheyenne, but now, suddenly, he was appealing  to his white side  and it troubled him. He was cheyenne, not white! Still, he knew his chief and the missionary were wise men, and he valued their counsel. "I will speak with Reverend louis."