Disclaimer: The characters of The Young Riders were created for television by Ed Spielman. The series aired on ABC TELEVISION from 1989 - 1992. Thanks Debbie for all your help.
The stars twinkled overhead, sparkling like diamonds flung onto a dark velvet cloth. The moon was hiding its face so the darkness was almost complete – except for the brightly shining stars. The evening was perfect, yet filled with a restless spirit. The nearby stream babbled its way over the rocks that lined its bed as if it were unable to make itself comfortable. The gentle breeze stirred the few remaining leaves which were unwilling to let go of their branches, clinging in a useless attempt to stay connected to their life purpose. Gradually they all let go and drifted on the evening air to a new resting place.
The horses' bridles made soft clinking sounds as the animals tried to settle themselves for the night. They too felt the restlessness in the air. They were having difficultly calming themselves despite the hard day's ride. This wind was trying to tell them something; it was whispering softly to all the creatures. It was sharing a secret of upcoming change and adventure. It was teasing the listeners by not telling the news loud enough to be understood.
Even the horses' owners were troubled by the wind's story. They both slept, or rather tried to sleep. They were restless – tossing, turning, unable to settle down completely. They too were trying to understand the message the wind was carrying – the news of what was ahead, the events that would change their lives forever.
Ike sat up. He'd heard something. He calmed his breathing and sat listening. He couldn't hear anything clearly, except the horses and the stream. Yet there was something else; something so evasive he wasn't able to catch it. He got up and went to calm the horses. That was when he heard it again. It sounded like someone was crying or laughing softly. He couldn't decide which it was. He turned towards the sound and carefully began walking. It was leading him back to the campsite and the small fire they had built to ward off the evening's chill. He glanced at Buck's bedroll; it was empty! Buck wasn't in the camp area. Ike quickly surveyed the surrounding trees. After a few minutes, just when the panic was about to take control, he located Buck sitting at the edge of the stream. He was perched on one of the larger rocks on the bank, facing the stream. Ike went to his friend's side. The sound grew louder, but still Ike couldn't decide what it was – crying or laughing.
Ike quietly crouched next to Buck. He studied his friend closely. Buck wasn't making the sound; but he was listening to someone or something. He didn't seem to notice Ike at all. Whatever he was listening to had him completely under its spell. He was speaking, answering in a language Ike had never heard before. Ike sat quietly and watched, not wanting to leave Buck unattended, but afraid to interrupt. Soon, the sound stopped and Buck woke up. He glanced around, confused. When he saw Ike sitting next to him, he asked, “What happened? How did I get over here?”
Ike shrugged. *I'm not sure. I heard something, and I went to check on the horses. When I came back, you were here. You were talking to someone, but I couldn't understand what you were saying. It wasn't in English.*
“Did you see anyone else?” Buck asked as he returned to his bedroll. He added a few sticks to build up the dying fire. He was suddenly chilled by the night air.
*No, but I heard what sounded like someone crying or laughing. I couldn't decide which it was. Maybe it was both,* Ike said as he joined Buck by the fire. He glanced at his friend with concern. *Any ideas?*
Buck sat quietly thinking for a few seconds before nodding. “You're going to think I'm crazy, but I swear I was talking to my mother.”
*How?* asked Ike.
Buck sighed, “When I was going to sleep, I was thinking about tomorrow; worrying about what will happen. I was afraid that they would want you, but not me. Or. . .” he let the sentence die when he saw Ike's face. He waited a few seconds before he continued talking, “I must have fallen asleep and started dreaming.”
*How does that get you to talking to your mother?* Ike asked.
“She can reach me in my dreams,” Buck replied.
*Do you remember what it was about?* Ike inquired.
Buck nodded and smiled. “I was around five summers old. I hated leaving my mother during the day. I kept getting in her way while she was trying to work because I was worried someone would take her away if I let her out of my sight. . .”
“Running Buck, go play,” Shining Star instructed her son as she tripped over him for the third time that morning.
“There's no one to play with,” he answered as he scurried out of her way yet again.
“Then go watch the older boys practice their knife throwing,” she suggested.
“They throw at me,” the youngster said. “I don't think they want me there.”
“Then find Red Bear and bother him,” she sighed in desperation.
“He's with Lone Wolf,” Running Buck replied, equally frustrated.
At the mention of her husband's name Shining Star sighed deeply. “Fine, then help me work instead of tripping me. Here, bring this.” She handed him a basket and walked away.
The young boy quickly jumped to his feet, grabbed the container and followed after her. He caught up with her as she passed the edge of the village where his step father was teaching his half brother how to shape a knife blade. His older brother winked at him as he hurried past – doing his best not to give Lone Wolf reason to notice him.
Shining Star stopped at the edge of the river and began filling the water container. Running Buck sat next to her and waited. When she finished with hers, she took the one he had carried and started to fill it.
“Do you know where we are?” she asked.
He looked at her to be sure he understood her question before answering, “The river.”
“Yes, the river,” she answered. She paused a few seconds and then asked, “Do you know what happened here five summers ago?”
He hung his head and mumbled, “I was made.”
She put aside the water container. “Yes,” she said. “You were made. Do you know how long it took me to be able to return here?”
He shook his head still looking at the ground, ashamed for being the cause of the pain his mother had endured.
“I didn't come back here until you were over one summer old. I was frightened so I tried to hide from my fears,” she said. “Lone Wolf made me realize I couldn't do that and stay alive. He made me come back. He dragged me here and made me stay until I could do the things I needed to do. As I began to work, I noticed that the place had changed quite a bit; the river had altered its course. In fact, the place where you were begun was now underwater.” She paused and looked around. “It's different now then it was last week. Look.”
He slowly lifted his head and looked around. “See,” she said pointing out a new growth of bushes. “These are new, and by next spring they will provide food.”
He nodded. “What happened there?” he asked indicating a pile of deadwood.
“That's where the river used to go,” she answered. “One day those trees fell and blocked the path. The river carved out a new course. It's only other choice was to dry up and die. Do you understand?”
He looked at her and nodded. She continued, “You need to be like the river. You need to be strong and carve out a course for yourself. You can't be afraid all the time, you must go learn to be a warrior like your brother.” She paused and watched as he sat thinking.
“I need you to go out and explore, discover yourself, your talents. I promise to keep an eye on you, to guide you as the banks do the river, but you must move forward. If you don't, you will die because you will cease to grow.” She smiled as he turned his oh so serious face to hers.
“Besides,” she added, “if you don't stay out of my way, I'll never get anything done. Now, grab the water and let's go home.”
They returned to the village. Red Bear had finished his lessons with Lone Wolf. He joined his mother and half brother as they walked toward their home. “Let me help,” he said reaching for Running Buck's water container.
“No,” his younger brother answered looking up at his mother. “I can do this. Then maybe you can show me how to track something. I need to start learning so I can help take care of Mother.”
Shining Star smiled at her sons as they went off together . . .
*She must have loved you very much to take such time to teach you,* Ike said. He was remembering how the other children at the mission used to taunt Buck about how his own people did not want him and had sent him to be with strangers.
Buck smiled as he thought back to the tender way his mother treated him.
“She does. That's why she came to me here; to remind me not to be afraid; I am to face tomorrow's challenge as a warrior.”
*Was that her I was hearing?* Ike asked.
“I think so. She told me to share her message with my new brother. She must have let you hear her to make sure I would. She knew you would ask questions,” Buck answered as he prepared to return to sleep. “She wanted you to know that we don't have to worry. Everything will be fine as long as we stick together.”
Ike smiled as he too lay back down. He could rest easy now; they both could. They could rest assured that tomorrow would be the start of a wonderful new life together – as brothers, as well as friends.
They woke the next morning, renewed in spirit, as well as body, ready to face the challenges of the day ahead after a restful night's sleep. The wind had quieted; its message delivered.
