It was a few years back, but the memory of it still haunts me. I was a young Sioux girl living with my people along side the river in the Black Hills. It was late fall and the few leaves that remained on the trees were dark brown, bright red, and a shinny gold. They fluttered to the ground like butterflies. I was walking my horse, White Wind. He was sleek and white, with big, deep dark eyes. He could run like the wind, but was as tame as any horse could be. He had complete trusted in me.
One quiet and peaceful afternoon we were walking in the valley, when there was a loud rumbling noise. We were both startled. Then I realized there was a group of men chasing wild mustangs in our direction. I grabbed White Wind's main and ran. My heart was pounding, and I was scared. So, I let White Wind go and hid among some rocks, thinking White Wind could escape without me. I looked up to see White Wind being herded in with the wild mustangs. There was nothing I could do. I started screaming as I watched my horse, White Wind, being driven away with the wild mustangs.
I am now a few years older but I still miss White Wind. There will always be a hole in my heart. Sometimes, I wander out into the hills to be alone and I think I see a white horse running for his life.