Spirit - The Fearless Lakota

Movie: Spirit Stallion of the Cimarron Scene: After being introduced to Little Creek

The large ball of fire strong and high in the sky during the cycle of changing seasons, animals were beginning to awake from their long winter's sleep and emerge from their homes to stretch and warm their fur but also to look for food, the moment that my people had been waiting for. We survive well through the long cold winters with what we've gathered before the first fall of the great snow but once its melted the men from our tribe gather together and set out to track, hunt, and find blossoming fruits or seeds to bring back for storing, trade, tool making and feasting.
    How easy it would be to hunt with those new weapons the white man has. The long weapons that hold such strange power, those that have been pulled on my people countless times in the past and present. But it seems that no matter how much we are determined to give them in exchange for their weapons they never accept the offer. I know the reason though, we alll do.They want our land, for us to follow their 'rules of man,' and with those deadly firearms they can win by force. They enjoy having the power for themselves, they look down on us and if we were to have those weapons there would be more bloodshed than there already is.  But we are not greedy, we only fight for what is necessary, not to satisfy that want for more. Not for greed.
   
    I thought about all this while I sat there on the dirt ground tied up to a thick piece of smooth wood stuck in the ground those white others called "the Post," with no room to move and no shade to sit under from the heat of the godlike sun. "No Food or Water," they had said in their strange tones, rough signs of their treatment told me that I had to leave as soon as I could. It wasn't safe here. But I wasn't the only one that they had held hostage here. They had a beautiful strong orange male mustang tied to another "Post" near mine, and from the looks of him he had been here longer than I had.
   
My attempts to get a response out of him weren't to successful. He seems to keep to himself and doesn't like any contact from those white men either. And that night as we both sat there under the large starry sky it occurred to me that me and this mustang were alike. We were both held prisoners under the white man who didn't understand us, we didn't belong there and we both longed for our freedom.
   
    A wolf's cry pierced the night sky, claiming and breaking the silence with it's deep howl. Straightening my back against the hard wood I lifted my head towards the sky, noticing that the white man wasn't getting up to silence this creature. I was thinking maybe, just maybe, some brothers of my tribe were out looking for me having known my objective to try and steal those foreign weapons and being so far away from home. After the wolf's call I parted my lips and made a small hooting, triggering the wolf to howl once more. Hooting again my eyes caught sight of a flying piece of metal glinting up and over the large fence of the white man's fort which symbolized their power. It wasn't a falling star but a blade, with a familiar hand carved wooden handle, that had been thrown to my aid.
   
I couldn't help the bright smile which spread across my face upon laying eyes on the dagger that would free these tight ropes around my wrists. I turned my gaze over my shoulder to glance at the Mustang behind me, his expression obvious surprise and wonder. 'Oh yes,' I thought as I went back to the dagger, reaching for it with my toes able to grasp the handle and bring it to my open mouth than to my open ready hands. Now all we need is the perfect moment, and we'll escape.