White Horse

Mary was born and raised on the Ute Indian Reservation in Utah and Colorado. The Reservation was larger than some American states with forests, mountains, lakes, streams, and rivers. Mary was not proud of her white freckled skin and green eyes. She envied her sister's jet black hair, brown skin and dark brown eyes. Mary wished to be like everyone else in her large Indian family. She felt shame when other children and some adults stared at her white features. She did not know where the white blood came from, but she hinted that it may somehow be related to her family story about the white horse. She heard the story told many times by her grandfather, her father, or her uncles. Since I have a good memory I will try to write it down as Mary told it to me.

"White Horse was ridden to my great-grandfather's horse ranch sometime after the American Civil War in the late eighteen hundreds. The thin white-man riding the white horse was a quiet-spoken gentle person. He did not sit stiffly in the saddle. He allowed his pelvis to move with the saddle to prevent the saddle from rubbing the horse and causing saddle sores. When the horse trotted, the white-man did not bounce because his knees functioned as shock absorbers, and the toes of his boots were planted in the stirrups. His lanky, loose-jointed body seemed to be part of the horse's motion. The man did not wear noisy spurs, and he held the reins loosely, allowing the skinny, exhausted colt to droop its head. The horse was covered with mud and looked sick. The white-man slid off the horse and led him the last hundred paces to our home. The rider was almost as bad off and weak as the horse. He asked my great-grandfather for permission to stay and rest up. The cowboy was headed west toward California. While resting for several weeks the horseman told my family about White Horse."

The cowpoke spoke slowly to Mary's great-grandfather. "This skinny animal don't look like much now. If I had time I would wait till he fattens up and take him along with me. I aim to trade him for two of your best horses. He is only four years old, and I have trained him myself. Nobody else has handled him. You may wonder why a man on the run would have a white animal. As you know, white horses are easy to find at night. The moon lights them up making them easy to steal because you can see them easier than dark animals. I will tell you why I chose a white colt to work with."

"If a man has secret business to do in a town, he rides in with the horse covered with dried mud. Nobody can see what color the horse is, but most would say they saw a dark horse. On the way out of town the man might be in a hurry, but when he comes to water, he washes the mud off the animal. Sometimes there is a river to swim, and the horse gets washed without stopping. Nobody knows to look for a clean white horse."

"I have taught White Horse some tricks. Here are some of the tricks he knows. When we want to be real quiet I tie soft leather over White Horse's hooves so he will be silent walking on rocks. I taught him to walk quiet through the forest and listen and smell for people. When he senses anyone, he stops to warn me by pointing his head toward the scent or noise. I have taught him to lie down and hide behind a bush or rock. He knows not to move or make any noise. He does not cough or snort. He stays put while I crawl off and move away from him. If I leave my gun belt and holster, he will bring it to me later. I give a whistle like a bird call, and he crawls to where I'm hiding, and he carries my weapon with his teeth."

"The colt is still a baby but he knows a lot. He is tired and sick now, but he will get strong and fat if you give him time and treat him right. He is used to eating grass and won't be needing any grain. I aim to trade him for two of your horses. But first, you must agree not to let anyone abuse him. Do not allow the children to tease him. They must not throw rocks at him or whup him. Will you promise to protect White Horse and get him strong and healthy again?"

Mary continued, "Great-grandfather made the promise and gave the stranger two of his best horses, grain and dried meat to take with him. The white man left behind a parting gift. It was a little copper tea pot, and we still keep it in the family. Before that my great grandmother did not own a tea pot. No one around there had a tea pot, so it was a very special present."

"My grandfather remembers growing up with White Horse when he and his brothers learned to play games with White Horse. They never tired of having White Horse lie down, and hide, and crawl on his knees carrying a toy gun in his teeth. The horse crawled so much, he wore off all the hair on his knees and formed calluses as hard as shoe leather."

"White Horse lived more than forty years and had a good life. Grandfather told me the stranger who had left the tea pot was Jesse James. He may have been the one to put white blood into our family and to give me freckles. Someday I will find out where that tea pot came from in the first place."

After Mary told me the story, I looked in my history books to see if Jesse James was ever in Colorado. In 1878 Jesse James was accused of robbing stage coaches near Leadville, Colorado. Another newspaper reported him staying six months near Chaffee, in 1879. The Daily Democrat newspaper reported in 1881 that one of their reporters talked to Jesse James in Denver. So, it is remotely possible that White Horse had been trained by Jesse James.

Soon after telling me the story of White Horse, Mary returned to the Ute Indian Community in Colorado where she got a chance to rest up from living in hectic places like San Diego.