: Christopher Lloyd King
: Blue Norther The Life and Times of Quanah Parker
: BookBaby
: 9798350911206
: 1
: CHF 5.20
:
: Historische Romane und Erzählungen
: English
: 394
: kein Kopierschutz
: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet
: ePUB
Quanah burns with hatred for the Texas Rangers who abducted his mother and baby sister. He takes his dead father's place as a Comanche war chief. His mission is clear. He must drive the white settlers from his people's traditional hunting grounds and defeat the US cavalry regiments sent to protect them. He outwits their ruthless general, Ranald Slidell Mackenzie, in numerous skirmishes, but starvation finally forces him onto the reservation. He prospers against all the odds. Following the white man's path, he becomes a wealthy rancher and influential politician. Through it all, a single purpose inspires him: to find his mother and sister and reunite his family.

THREE

He tightens his grip on the bridle, winding the horsehair braid around his fist. The pony jibs, reacting to the pressure on her mouth. Leaning over her withers, he calms her by stroking her neck. The position provides some shelter against the squall of ice crystals blowing into his face. Her warmth radiates upwards, but it can’t stop his uncontrollable shivering. He wraps his legs even more tightly around her belly. Buckskin leggings and a thin rawhide shirt are poor protection from the winterstorm.

He knows better than to complain. Now that he’s accepted into the company of men, he can’t show any sign of weakness. But how he wishes he was back in the comfort of the tipi, next to the fire, under the cover of his buffalo skin. He needs to concentrate to stop the shaking. Discomfort is merely a test of resolve: mind overmatter.

He sets his mind to pleasant thoughts. The day before, theNokoni elders gave permission for him to join the hunting party, the first of his age group. AllNumu boys prepare for this moment, so being singled out is a specialhonor.

When he told her,Pia merely nodded and continued her work. It felt like a kick in the ribs. He thought she’d be pleased. What he failed to understand was that, for her, it meant he was no longer a child. Soon he’d be painting his face and joining a warparty.

Shielding his eyes against the snow flurries, he lifts his head and looks forward. Up ahead the other members of the hunting party are strung out, their lances held low along the line of their horses’ bellies. There are twenty warriors, led from the front byAhpu scouting the lie of the land. He pauses occasionally to test the direction of the wind. It’s the first tracking lesson he taught Kwihnai.Tasiwóo don’t see or hear very well but have an acute sense of smell. They can detect the presence of hunters from miles away. To ensure any success, it’s imperative to staydownwind.

They ride into the teeth of the gale. The landscape is entirely flat, an endless vista of grama grass, scorched yellow by the winter frosts. In places, it’s so high the horses’ legs disappear into it. His pony labors under the increased gradient. At the top of the incline,Ahpu reins in and waits for the rest to catchup.

They look down on to the prairie below. Hundreds of dark shapes move slowly across the plain – thetasiwóo they’ve