Free eBook - Neil Waring's - Ghost of the Fawn

Free Book – download here.  Ghost of the Fawn. Set in modern-day central Wyoming.

Last week I mentioned that I would soon have a book up for free.

Free today through the weekend. This book – Ghost of the Fawn, has not sold as well as many of my others, not sure why. It is a story of two Native teens trying to find themselves until they get in the middle of intrigue and murder in Central Wyoming. I love the story and think you might too.

Give it a try eBook free through the weekend.

Thanks, and enjoy!

This year, here in Wyoming, this is spring.

How I spent my Summer

Didn’t get much writing done this summer but did get in Lots of travel and a lot of fun. Now I am back in the classroom, starting my 41st year teaching.
My List of best places I visited this summer---In no particular order of importance.
1. Fort Robinson –Where Crazy Horse was killed. I have visited several times and it is always worth the visit.
2. Murray State Park in Oklahoma—family and fun.
3. Grambling University in Louisiana –neat and interesting place only wish we would have been a few weeks later and been able to watch the football team and band practice.
4. Estes Park Colorado—always fun and only three hours away—took our five year old grandson with us both times. Am just starting to realize that old guys and little guys like a lot of the same stuff.
5. Route 66 through Texas – I still remember the old TV show
6. Mountains of the Snowy Range (only thirty miles away but still great fun) we walked through snow three and four feet deep in late June.
7. The Wyoming Territorial Prison in Laramie (O.K. I know that it is just on the other side of town) but it is still a great place to visit. Butch Cassidy spent some time there and I love visiting the broom factory and watching them work on the old machines.
8. Wyoming Cowboy Football practice—several times
I also read several good books and more than a few average ones and one bad one, but who’s counting.

Week End Powwow

Spent some time at the, Keepers of the Fire Powwow, over the weekend, I have always enjoyed the dancing, drums and costumes from these events. Shoshone, Arapaho and Sioux dancers put it all together but there were representatives from other tribes there also. Several venders selling southwestern jewelry and native trinkets and some tasty fry bread and tacos made the day both fun and filling. Although this powwow was inside and at the university if you try hard enough it’s possible to take yourself back to another time, maybe one where everyone was not in such a hurry and took the time to see life and live life.
My favorite part of the day—I bought a nice bracelet for my classroom, Indian crafts display, and the evening opening ceremonies that featured the bringing in of the flag, the victory chant and eighty or so dancers on the floor at one time. All in all, something everyone should do sometime.

Times of the Old West

What part of the old west do you like most? There are at least four distinct periods of time in the old west. (All overlap and dates are very general.

The first people - anything before 1800
The Mountain Men - to about 1850
Settlers and Cowboys - up to 1900
The recent west - anything after 1900

I am sure that we could break this down into many smaller groups but this is the way I see it. Now which is your favorite? Many people hedge and say, “all of them,” and I guess that's all right. But really do you have a favorite?

American Indian Wisdom

"Everything the Great Spirit has given you, you have to walk through,
you have to experience it. You can’t always walk in the grass, sometimes you have to walk in the sagebrush."
Anonymous—American Plains Indian

Today Non-Fiction

The First Tribal Indian People of Wyoming
Only the rocks and the mountains really know, only the rocks and the mountains have been here long enough to know and they are not saying anything. No one knows when the first tribal type American Indians first settled in Wyoming. We know for sure they were here before John Colter and the trappers came to Wyoming in the early 1800s. It is probable the introduction of the horse was responsible for bringing most of the Indian settlement to Wyoming and populating the state with several language groups of Indians. Most historians would agree only the ancient Sheep Eater tribe lived in Wyoming before the horse became a part of everyday live for the tribes of Wyoming.
Because the horse brought the Indian to Wyoming the Spanish were most responsible for the settlement of Wyoming. The Spanish and their flamboyant leader Francisco Vasquez Coronado, in 1540 explored much of present day Arizona and the American southwest, looking for the famed but mythical Seven Cities of Cibola. They failed to find the magnificent golden riches of the Seven Cites and Coronado turned northeast leading his 300 men to the fabulous area of Quivira in search of riches. After a long and fruitless search they turned back but not until they had reached southeast Nebraska near the present day city of Fairbury. On the way they left behind dozens of horses that would be the beginning of the famous Indian ponies of the plains. Coronado found no riches, instead found poor tribes leading a day to day agriculture existence, often living in crude stick and mud shelters, some tribes, of better hunters seemed a little better off, but no gold, not then and not today.
If all this makes sense then the Indian tribes of Wyoming were not here until much after Coronado introduced horses in the 1540s, best guess, the early 1700s. Indians of early Wyoming had already domesticated the dog and with the horse there were two animals to help with their day to day chores.
For more than a century (early 1700s to early 1800s) these, now indigenous, people roamed free on the plains and in the mountains of Wyoming. They may have experienced the freest existence in the history of the North American continent. Living a nomadic, buffalo hunting life fit these people well and they thrived, until the white men came, forever changing the life of Indians in Wyoming.
More than any group of people since, they respected nature and the powers of nature. Living a simple existence in the world’s first camper, the very mobile teepee, following the vast herds of bison and adding to their diet with antelope, rabbits other game animals and various wild roots, berries and other nourishing plants.
Life among these people could best be described as harsh and often short—but a better life may not exist. Who was first, the Sheep Eaters, as mentioned above, are thought by many historians to have been the first permanent residents of Wyoming and the one group to predate the horse in this area.

My Favorite Western Writers

In the past week I have been asked what western authors I read. We see so many lists, top ten’s, top twenty-fives and things like that, no list for me. I will give you a few of my favorites—my top 7. In order, my favorites
William L. Johnstone—Two of the best western characters you will ever find—Preacher and Smoke Jensen
Tony Hillerman—Modern day mystery westerns set deep in the Navajo country of New Mexico
Elmer Kelton—I live in Wyoming and he wrote Texas westerns but they are terrific
Larry McMurtry—Lonesome Dove
James Michener—Centennial—my favorite western
Don Coldsmith—Not as well know as some of the above but his White Indian series is a great read
Fred Grove—Another not as well know author but I never read one of his books I did not like
Well there you have it—my list of seven. Who do you like?

John G Neihardt

Today it the birthday of the great John G Neihardt, I have read “Black Elk Speaks,” at least a half dozen times. As a kid growing up in rural Nebraska we were fed a steady diet of Neihardt and I am sure that, at the time, I did not appreciate him as I do today. If you have never experienced any of his stuff, take a look, what a great writer he was. He was first published at 16 and last published at 90, a remarkable career.

He is a word sender. This world is like a garden and over it go his words like rain, and where they go they leave everything greener. After his words have passed, the memory of them shall stand long in the West like a flaming rainbow. —Black Elk

http://www.neihardt.com/jgn/index.html

Excerpt of YA Novel

WOW-Have I got a streak of lazy going on lately. With thanksgiving and my beloved Wyoming cowboys looking for a new football coach I have written very little, actually none, in the past week. I did spend some time ordering some Christmas presents on-line. Not really a big fan of huge black Friday crowds so I shopped from my easy chair.
I am back to working on my young adult, modern time, western. Thought I would post an excerpt so here goes—enjoy. But as the old cowboy saying goes, “I ain’t about to give any thing away, for free that is.”


From Chapter 2 of - Occurrence at Hell’s Half Acre Wyoming

Jimmy Bison-Man and Robert Lincoln sat shivering in the back of a small, crumbling cave tucked away on the west side of the canyons of Hell’s Half-Acre Wyoming. Shivering from the early morning summer cold, and what they didn’t want to admit, fear. Fear of what, of things they didn’t know? It wasn’t the cave the darkness the bats or the howling winds, nothing to do with their present living accommodations; it was about who they were and where they were going, these two big city Indian boys. Maybe, just maybe this cave, this canyon and their lives were supposed to be together, tied together by fate through their elders generations ago.

Silently they sat looked at each other across a very small nearly smokeless Sage wood fire. Both were thinking and probably thinking the same thing, “What are we doing here?” Each knew the answer, but were there really great treasures or anything else here, or was this just imagination, running wild, in the heads of two seventeen year olds? Silence padlocked them in the cave as they looked into the glowing fire, then at each other, and reluctantly out into the vast badlands of Hell’s Half Acre. And they listened, listened to the eerie sounds of the wind and it’s oowoo, oowoo howl as it turned and talked its way in, out and through the canyons, caverns, caves and spires of this Wyoming wasteland, all the time wishing they could magically vanish and reappear back home in Fairborn Indiana. But they were not home they were in Wyoming trying to find their past, follow their dreams and face the present.

Short Story

Finished a new short story today, pretty good for me to complete in one day, it runs about 1,300 words and was a lot of fun to write.

This is my first in a bit of a cross over genre that I will call, western science fiction. Even I think it’s weird for an old guy like me to write anything except straight westerns, humor or notes to myself. If anyone is interested I spent about four hours and may need another half hour after I get some feedback.

Excerpt--"I Should Have Crossed Over"

Runs-With-Fire sat sunning himself high above the North Fork of the Shoshone River and wondered why he was here. Not here in this place but here in 2008. Runs-With-Fire had not died, had not died and passed over to the other side. Here he sat on the same rock he had sat every day, early in the morning, as he had been doing for the past one-hundred and thirty-two years. All those years since he came back to this river from the Greasy Grass and the great victory over the blue coats at the battle the soldiers called, Little Big Horn.

© 2008 NA Waring
Westerns for Today

Ancient Buffalo Hunt

This is one of twenty stories from an unpublished work, "Goodnight Wyoming--Bedtime Stories for Adults and Children alike." It is a tail from long ago--
Enjoy
It’s a Great Day to Hunt Buffalo

Runs-With-Fire and Small Bear stood warming themselves over the cooking fire alternately rubbing their hands together and then rubbing their chest and arms. It was cold outside, but not as cold as it had been just a few days ago. Neither spoke as they watched the smoke figures dance in the tipi and then escape through the hole in the center of the lodge.

The two, friends since their youth, and now the best hunters of their people had spent the early morning scouting for sign of a return of the great herds. By instinct they knew that as the days grew longer it would soon be time to jump the Buffalo. Small Bear and Runs-With-Fire now talked trying to decide who in their tribe they should take to help them lead the big spring hunt. A large hunt in the spring and another one in the fall kept the people alive, and choosing the right people could decide weather the tribe lives or dies. This spring hunt would be the most important in their lifetime as the starving time (winter) had come early and many in the tribe were ill or weak from lack of food. Several days had passed and Runs-With-Fire and Small Bear knew it was time.

The two stood stoically at the Tipi opening, enjoying the warm morning sun, and greeting the five hunter-warriors they had selected be hunt leaders. Each of the five were chosen because they had proved themselves and each had a special skill, like White Weasel, selected for his cunning and stealth and Wind-At-Night selected because of his superior vision and hearing. Although it was an honor to be chosen each knew it was a time for great seriousness and careful planning. All of this made the selection of the sixteen-year-old Smiling Dog a mystery to the others because he seemed to be always joking and laughing but they would admit that he could throw his hunting spear farther and more accurately than any one else in the tribe.

This was a time long before the whites had come to the west and a time when the British still ruled America. This was a time when the natives of western America ranged free without horses, living season-to-season and year-to-year. This was a time when these seven men, none more than thirty yeas of age held the lives of their four hundred fellow tribe members in their hands. This was a time when life was hard, life was easy, life was sure and life was unsure. This was a time when the American Indian reigned supreme in his part of the world, the American West.
After three hours of smoking, offering prayers, burning the sweet grass and much planning for the upcoming hunt the council of seven was ready. Each of the seven picked two or three warriors to help with their part of the hunt, the rest of the tribe would wait nearby until they could hear the awful chunking sound as the buffalo hit the canyon bottom. When the sound came they would hurry to the area and begin the tedious skinning and butchering of the dozens of animals. The hunt plan was simple, the same as the ancients had used, run the buffalo off the cliff, kill the cripples, and collect the meat. The council could only hope that the kill would be that easy.

As the buffalo ranged ever closer to the jump sight the council and their helpers worked feverishly to repair the rock wall that would help turn the shaggy beasts into the cliff and into a six months supply of food for the tribe. No member of the tribe could remember the original building of the wall; it was so long ago that none of their stories or songs told of it. The tribal elders simply said it was built before “the sun brought light and warmth to the people."

The jump sight had not been used in many years because the people always let the wind and rain and the seasons scrub the area clean of all scent and color related to a kill. Now the time was right and the buffalo were close. This night all of the tribe would sing and dance the buffalo dance around the fire tomorrow would be a good day!

A dreary gray March morning arrived but it didn’t dampen the spirit of the council because today was the day, Buffalo jump day. Their camp was nearly an hour’s walk from the jump sight and the warriors left well before the first sight of light in the sky. They walked by instinct in complete silence until Wind-at-Night stopped them with a barely audible shee, shee. Wind-At-Night could smell the great heard as it had moved closer to their camp and farther from the jump sight. Runs-With-Fire and Small Bear looked at each other and smiled, the buffalo were not where they had expected but it still would be a good day because they had prayed and danced around the fire last night and the buffalo were waiting.

In a matter of a few short minutes White Weasel let out the low cry of a morning dove telling the others that he and his three helpers were in place, just behind the herd. They were crawling now within a few feet draped in wolf skins with the buffalo completely ignored them. When the spear from Smiling Dog landed almost silently beside them Gray Antelope and Old Tree lit their torches and the torches of the four warriors with them from the hot coals they carried in a hollow buffalo leg bone. The buffalo started to snort and move away startled as much by the men as by the fire. But it was too late. White Weasel and his followers were on their feet wildly swinging the wolf hides in the air and screaming pushing the herd forward. The prairie was being lit on fire beside the hairy beasts and the buffalo were now starting to move away from the fire and away from the wild wolf men but the rock wall blocked the other side. Panicking the buffalo stampeded over the cliff to what they thought was freedom and in some strange way it was.

The old people sang as they skinned and butchered the pile of buffalo flesh, assuring themselves health, wealth and shelter for many moons.

It was a great day!