Thunder on the Plains Read Online Free PDF

residents were very grateful. They often gave us cookies, lemonade, and other goodies.
    But I also had to work at being accepted by the other kids in the program. As a newcomer from the city, I took a lot of teasing.
    Our afternoons were spent doing chores around the farm or ranch or whatever it was. With the help of Amanda, Grandpa, and my cousins, I learned how to care for the animals on the property.
    In my spare time, I watched TV, worked on my computer, and exchanged emails with Jesse back home. I showed Crow and Rabbit how to access websites with images on the Internet. I also taught them how to take images from different sources, merge them together,and create new images. They thought it was pretty cool.
    In exchange, Crow and Rabbit showed me how to ride horses. The family owned several of them. The horses were used to being ridden on a regular basis. So a couple of times a week, we headed out for the reservation’s wide open spaces. There ain’t nothin’ in L.A. like that.
    One afternoon, after I had finished my barnyard chores, Grandpa Nathan took me into the house. He led me to a back room where he kept his special collection of old American Indian stuff. He sat me down on a campstool and took a seat in a big, old, faded brown chair in the corner.
    â€œDanny, what did your father teach you about the Cheyenne people before he died?”
    â€œNot much that I can remember, Grandpa. He was always too busy working and trying to make a living for us. We did go to powwows sometimes. But I usually just played with other kids there.”
    â€œThat’s too bad,” he said. He picked up a long wooden box with a black handle that sat on a table beside his chair.
    â€œHe always told me to be proud of being Cheyenne,” I added. “He had a collection of old pictures of Cheyennes in the 1800s, like Black Kettle, that he used to show me.”
    â€œDid he tell you about the Pipe, or the Sun Dance, or the Buffalo People?” He placed the wooden box in his lap.
    â€œNo. What’s the Buffalo People?”
    â€œFirst things first,” Grandpa answered. He opened the box and pulled back a piece of deerskin that covered what was inside.
    â€œThere are things that a Cheyenne boy of your age should start learning. Since your dad is gone, it will be up to your uncle and me to teach you these things.”
    â€œWhat kind of things?”
    â€œImportant things. Cheyenne things,” Grandpa said.
    He pulled an old metal TV tray from the other side of the chair and set it between us. Then he took four little plastic bags from thebox and placed them on the tray. Grandpa opened the bags and poured what looked like cooking herbs out on the tray. What was all this stuff?
    â€œI want to introduce you to four sacred gifts given to us by the Creator for our use,” Grandpa continued. “These are sage, sweetgrass, cedar, and tobacco.” He pointed at each as he spoke its name in Cheyenne. “Each one has a special use to help us as we perform our duties as human beings.”
    He reached once again into the box and took out a fan made of brown feathers. The handle of the fan was covered in beautiful beadwork. He put the fan nearby on the tray. Then he placed a metal bowl in the center of the tray.
    He took a pinch of the cedar and dropped it in the bowl. Then he took a couple of sprigs of sage and crumbled them into the bowl. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small lighter.
    â€œStand up,” he said. I stood up.
    â€œWhat are you going to do?” I asked.
    â€œI’m going to give you a cleansing blessing,” Grandpa replied. He fired up the lighter and put the flame into the bowl. That got the mixture of sage and cedar burning. A stream of smoke that smelled sweet came up from the bowl.
    Taking the bowl in one hand and the feather fan in the other, Grandpa stood up. He began fanning the smoke toward me, spreading it over the front of my body. He sang a