Kathleen Eagle - A Certain Kind of Hero: Defender Broomstick Cowboy

G ideon Defender instinctively hit the deck at the sound of gunfire. The first person hed learned to defend was himself, and this wasnt the first time hed had to eat a little dirt in the process.

Damn. Tribal game warden Carl Earlie dropped to his knees at Gideons side. Dont see nothin, but my ears are ringing pretty good. How close would you say that came?

Too close for comfort. Another bullet zinged over Gideons head, scattering chunks of oak bark as it ricocheted off the trees. He grabbed the back of Carls belt and jerked him down. Eeeez, that forty-acre forehead of yours makes a nice, shiny target.

Carls eyes widened. You think theyre shootin at us?

You know anything else thats in season this time of year besides Indians?

Carl thought about it, then turned down the corners of his mouth and shook his head. Naw, youre gettin paranoid, Chief. Nobodys out to shoot us. Flashing a quick grin, he stuck his head way up on his scrawny neck, looking around like some big-eyed ring-necked duck. You know what I think is Another shot rang out, and the duck became a turtle. I think I got a job to do. Somebodys poachin.

Just stay down, Carl. Gideon spared him a warning glance. And dont call me Chief.

Sorry. If they heard that, I guess youd be the one theyd aim for, huh?

Not if theyre poachers. Poachersd go after you first, mistaking you for a moose.

Get outta here, Ch

Gideon touched his fingers to his lips and cocked one ear toward the sound of footsteps. Glimpsing the sprinting shooter, they exchanged nods, scrambled to their feet and followed. To anyone who didnt know him, it would have been surprising that a man of Carls considerable girth was able to move nearly as quickly and almost as quietly as Gideon did, but they shared the heritage of native woodsmen.

Taking a little venison, Marvin? Gideon asked as they approached the man.

Marvin Strikes Many stepped between his challengers and his kill as he tucked the butt of his rifle into his armpit and carefully pointed the barrel at the ground. My kids are hungry.

Its fishing season, Carl said. And youre a damn good fisherman.

I saw this buck, and I happened to have my rifle along, so I took a shot. Marvin threw his shoulders back and wedged his thumb between his overlapping belly and the waistband of his jeans, assuming a cocksure, hip-shot stance. There was something about the combination of skinny legs and droopy gut that ruined the effect, but Marvin seemed oblivious to that fact. You call yourselves Chippewa, but you talk about licenses and seasons, just like the whites. I have a right to take this meat home to my family.

Gideon eyed the deer carcass. He almost wished he could let the man take the meat and go his way. A few years ago, that was exactly what he would have done. But these days he couldnt pick and choose on a whim. The tribal chairmans hat was a tight fit for a man who was used to taking some pretty broad liberties. Hed spent most of his life doing things his own way and telling anyone who didnt like it to go to hell. Nowadays he had to choose his words more carefully, even though he couched them in the same tone hed always used when he was challenged. What was once considered offensive was now authoritative.

You have to go by the rules, Marvin. The Pine Lake Band has rules.

And the state has rules, Marvin recited. And the feds have rules. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. You gonna slap me with a fine, Carl?

Got to, Marvin, you know that.

The Strikes Many family has its own rules. The Pine Lake Band doesnt speak for us. Marvin jabbed his forefinger in Gideons direction. You might be chairman of the Pine Lake Band, but youve got no say over the Strikes Many clan, Defender. Were White River, and we didnt ask to be put in with you guys.

We didnt invite you, either, Carl said.

All right, all right. Gideon didnt like being pointed at, especially by a man toting a hunting rifle. Times like this he wanted to throw the damn chairmans hat back into the ring, land one punch and walk away.

But he took a deep breath and calmly made his case. The fact is, the feds included your clan in the Pine Lake Band, Marvin. That all happened way before my time, so I had nothing to do with it. You wanna complain to somebody about your tribal affiliation, complain to the Bureau of Indian Affairs. Let me know if you get anywhere with them. Meanwhile, Im tribal chairman, and Ive got some say over you.

You didnt get my vote. Marvin gave a smug nod, convinced hed just delivered a crushing blow. Nobody did. Election Day, I said the hell with you guys, and I just stayed home.