Forever Strong

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short horsey story i wrote for an english assignment.To summarize it takes place Canada as it is being settled by Europeans.The Native people here are still unsure about how they feel about the "white men".Of course there are the main characters a small aboriginal girl named Adsilia and her horse Shasta. But i don't want to give too much away!Enjoy!
P.S: Sorry for spelling mistakes and such not very good with spelling!

Submitted: April 28, 2010

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Submitted: April 28, 2010

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Fall came as it always came for the Obijoak people. Summer heat pressed down, and then ever so gracefully gave in to the colder weather. The trees always acted accordingly to this, changing their leaves to yellow, red and orange. Adsila loved fall the best out of all seasons the Creator gave to First Nations. Peti, her mother, told her that it was the time when Adsilia had meet Shasta. Maybe that was the only reason she loved autumn so, but Adsila stuck to that she enjoyed the tress new colours, and the feel of the preparations made by her tribe to get ready for winter. Shasta liked fall too, the flies started to die off by this time, which meant less flicking constantly at them with her tail. Also it was still warm enough for her and Adsilia to go on long gallops threw the forest.
This was perhaps the most favorite activity for both of them. If Adsilia was lucky she could get her chores done in the morning and then spend the rest of the afternoon riding in the forest. They had no need for a bridle or saddle. They horse and rider were so intertwined, a miniscule movement to the left, would send Shasta in the proper direction. On those days where they would gallop through the forest, when no one would bother them, there was no need for steering. Adsila would let Shasta take her wherever the horse pleased. Shasta’s legs would become a blur, her mane and tail blowing in the wind like sails. That was the time, when Adsila believed they could fly. The birch, and pine trees zoomed by, Shasta and Adisla became ghosts of the forest. Silently as spirits they could find their way through the forest.
It was a day like that when Shasta lead Adsila to a ravine. Usally they stayed far away from this large hole in the forest floor, but Shasta felt like something was wrong. This ravine was especially well known by the Natives, it had large trees and bushes around the rim hiding the deadly drop below. Adsila quickly dismounted her horse and went to investigate.
Studying the ground she found a large hoof print in the soggy leaves. This print was different from all other hoof prints she had seen, the rim of the print was more defined and flat, like someone had made a wooden carving and pressed it to the leaves. Next she examined the trees, which had large limbs lying on the ground next to them, one limb was even still attached by a strand of bark. As she moved closer she noticed splotches of smeared blood along on one of the smaller branches. It looked like someone had grabbed the branch, then it was ripped out of someone's hands, the sharp edges of the branch then scratching their palms.
Adsila heard a moan. It was a long, suffering, sickening noise that froze Adsila in place. Carefully she leaned toward the edge of the drop. She let out a gasp of horror as she understood what her eyes were showing her. At the bottom there was a horse and a boy, both alien to her in appearance. The horse had a broad back and no spots whatsoever, and his hide was a flowing brown colour, changing shade slightly near his head and rear. The boy was different too, he had hair the colour of dried wheat and skin the colour of white coals. He was making the moaning noise. From where Adsila stood she could see one of his arms was twisted the wrong way. Swiftly Adsila jumped up onto Shasta’s back. Adsila knew the one spot around the ravine which wasn’t a straight drop, which was the only safe way in and out. Within seconds they found the break in the bleached white birch trees. Adsila clucked Shasta forward slowly down the slope leaning back to help Shasta with her balance. The leaves on the slope were slippery, but Shasta was bred with sure feet for this type of terrain. At the bottom, Adisla finally got a better look at the odd pair. The horse, which didn’t look that big from above, was huge! Her head barely reached the great horse’s shoulders. She could also observe his colours better down here and noticed all the different shades of brown that coated his hide. Past the broad horse, the boy let out a painful moan. Adsila took half a step closer to see the boy’s face. It was as pale as the moon, all the colour had drained away. Suddenly the boy realized what he was seeing and his dark blue eyes widened. Adsila spoak in her tongue to the boy hoping he would understand.
“Who are you?” She asked curiously. The boy’s eyes widened more and his ivory jaw started to drop. Adsila took another half step closer, as well as letting herself drop into a crouch. From this angle she tried to access his injures. Unfortunately this frightened the boy and he tried to shield his face with his good arm. He put his weight on the broken arm to prop his upper body up. With a yelp, his broken arm gave way and his upper body fell with a thud to the forest floor. Adsila took this as her chance to get even closer to the boy. Suddenly a huge leg appeared in front of her face. Sliver metal gleamed on the outside edges of the hoof. She was terrified that the deadly hooves would kick her, but when she looked up she saw the giant horse nuzzling the boy. Slowly she rose up and made a summoning whistle. The giant whipped his head around in alarm, and the kindness faded in his eyes. Fortunately Shasta was right behind her breathing on her neck, which Adisila found reassuring. Legs shaking, she rose her hand up to the horse’s face, seeing if he would touch his nose to her hand. His amber eyes bore into her face for a moment, all the while Adsila begged her legs to stop shaking. Luckily the kindness returned to the horse’s eyes and he nuzzled her hand. Shasta reached her neck over Adsila and started to sniff the other horse. Carefully Adsila ducked under Shasta’s neck, and moved closer to the boy, who was now propped up by his good arm. Adsila tried again to talk to him she pointed to herself and said,
“Adsila.” The boy nodded slowly, acknowleging her name. Then she pointed to Shasta,
“Shasta.” She said in the same tone. The boy gave her the same response. This time she pointed to the boy. He understood her gesture and pointed to himself.
“Salinero.” It was Adsila’s turn to nod. Adsila pointed to the huge brown horse. Salinero nodded and answered,
“Sunday.” Adsila smiled what a beautiful name! Now Adsila had to get the big problem taken care of. How could she get him back to her village for treatment? She couldn’t just leave him and get help; the risk was too large that wolves would find him. Adsila knew that wolves would find him in minutes because the wolves in the area loved this ravine. There was only one way out and in, so it was perfect way to trap prey. A sling for his arm would be the first thing to make. It would impossible to move him with his broken arm.
Effortless she scanned the edges of the ravine for a branch to support his arm. Finally she spotted one on the far side of the clearing. Gracefully she strode over to the spot, picked up that branch, and was back. Adsila scanned her surroundings once more, looking for a piece of cloth. Her eyes fell upon Sunday’s saddle pad. Acting quickly she removed Sunday’s saddle, to get at the pad. Unfortunately she under-estimated the weight of the saddle, and she could only hold it in the air for a few seconds. It crashed to the ground with a huge thud. Sunday and Salinero starred at her, then she smiled meekly at them. Continuing with her quest, she tore along the seam of the saddle pad, because it was far too thick to be a sling. She moved the new cloth she removed between her fingers, perfect. When she crouched down beside Salinero, she was afraid at first that he would jump away, but he didn’t. Looking in her eyes Salinero raised his broken arm a minuscule movement to let her continue. Expertly she placed the branch under his arm to support it and placed the cloth around his neck to steady the arm. Adsila did a little bow, signaling Shasta to kneel so Salinero could get on easily. The boy glanced from Shasta to Adsila and back. Adsila reached out and squeezed his shoulder, hoping it would reassure him. Once Salinero was on Shasta, Adsila grabbed Sunday’s reins, and clucked Shasta forward gently. They traveled slowly never going fasted than a smooth trot.
Eventually they entered out of the gloom of the forest. A small village was laid out in front of them. The log house clustered together in tight rows, smoke slowing rising from the chimneys. Men practicing hunting skills, women skinning animals and children playing, made this small village a hive of activities. Many of them stopped and starred at the strange travelers that entered with Adsila. Adsila ignored them all, she had only one thought now, how could she convince her father to let them stay? A large, colorful tent loomed out of the dust of the village, the chief’s tent. Adsila tensed, Salinero felt it and suddenly he felt scarred. Sunday didn’t mind he was too busy trying to touch noses with all of the new horses he saw. Adsila dismounted and signaled Shasta to bow again for Salinero to get off. She murmured for Shasta to go and tied Sunday’s reins to a small post in front of the tent.
She reached for the tent flap, and held it open for Salinero. He was hesitant at first, he had sensed her fear, but trusted her enough so he went in. Briskly Adisla followed. The tent was decorated with bright coloured paintings of Native spirits on the outside. On the inside their silhouettes reflected off the simple furniture and furs lining the room. A bed of coals was smoldering in the middle of the room, distributing sweet incense. A tall broad man sat in the only chair in the whole room. He had feathers tied in his hair and wolf hide pants on. He wore no shirt and his chest was adorned with the same pictures of spirits that were on the outside of the tent.
“Father.” Adsila said to the broad man. Salinero’s pulse quickened what were they saying. He tried to read their expressions but they were both concentrated and stubborn.
“I found this boy,” Adsila continued, “he is injured and needs help. I will take care of him till he is better and can go back to his own people.” Salinero studied them once more. Their expressions were the same but Adsila’s hand shook slightly.
“No.” Adsila’s father thundered.
“Why not?” Adsila voice was stern, but she was obviously afraid but showed none of it.
“Because of what all his people have done to destroy the land. Upsetting the great Creator. They do not deserve it.”
“You cannot blame one for the wrong deeds of a nation. Father, look at all the things the white men have giving us, the pots and pans, and the rifles to help with hunting. Surely that can redeem the boy.” She looked at Salinero hopefully.
“What could this boy give me in return?” Adsila paused before saying anything, what could the boy give? He had nothing, just a horse. Suddenly it made sense to her.
“He will give you the one thing every man always has his honor, love and gratitude. Surly this is enough for you.” The man’s leather like face wrinkled into a smile.
“You are correct my daughter. You have used your wit. I will give the boy two weeks.”
“Thank you Father.” Then she returned her father’s generous smile and left pulling Salinero along in her wake.
Leading him threw the maze of people and houses; Adsila finally went into her long house. Salinero nervously followed. In words to quick too catch, Adsila explained to her mother what had happened. They sprang into action. Salinero lied down on a blanket laid out on the floor where they bandaged his wounds and put on ointments to help them heal. Once they had done all they could, Adsila sat near Salinero and kept him company.
As the days passed they learned more and more about each other. Adsila started to help Salinero communicate with her people, and Salinero taught her some English words. Adsila leapt onto the new words Salinero told her. Devouring them like a hungry bear. Slowly Salinero also help up his end of the bargain. He helped out the people whenever he could, and did little jobs that helped the family run smoother. Salinero gave all of Adsila’s family love. He respected them and did his best to understand what they were trying to tell him. He loved them for all the care and guidance they gave him through out the time he healed, and they gladly loved him back. Soon two weeks passed and he had to leave. The chief would have let him stay longer, but he knew he had to get back. So when he left he told the chief (well the best he could) that someday he would come back to repay him. Adsila found it hard to say goodbye, since they had formed such a strong friendship. At last they knew he had to go, but he couldn’t leave without giving her anything. So he gave her two words, “Forever strong”. Then he mounted Sunday, and with a last look into her eyes, he left for the gloom of the forest.


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