Free The Long Journey Home by Don Coldsmith Page A

Horse. “He told us about the Olympics.”
    â€œWhat’s that?” asked Charlie.
    They explained the Senator’s enthusiasm and his devotion to the Carlisle school.
    â€œ … and the next Olympiad, in 1904, is to be held in St. Louis,” Little Horse finished. “I think the Senator wants John to try to qualify.”
    â€œAt football?” asked Will.
    â€œNo … track and field,” explained Horse. “They don’t play football in the Olympics. I am made to think John will hear more about it.”
    Â 
    At the suggestion of the coach, John and Little Horse wrote notes of thanks to the Senator.
    There were other football games. In fact, one nearly every weekend through the autumn. John was getting in more playing time. He had proved himself by means of the dropkick, but the injured player was out for the season because of a broken leg. John found himself carrying the ball more. He was quick on his feet, and the coach praised him for his running ability. He could be best described as “slippery,” dodging tackles and threading his way among opponents, rather than relying on brute force. But he still enjoyed putting a smashing tackle on an opposing quarterback.
    Senator Langtry attended a few more games, always visiting with John at some point, encouraging him on to bigger and better things. He did not bring
his family again. He was apologetic that his legislative duties had prevented not only time with his family, but his attendance at many of Carlisle’s athletic events.
    John, making progress in matters of politeness and the social graces, asked that his best regards be extended to Mrs. Langtry and to their daughter, Jane.
    â€œWhy, thank you, John. That’s very thoughtful of you. The ladies were quite impressed with you and Mr. Horse at our dinner outing. I will certainly carry your message.”
    John dared not think that his real message to Miss Jane Langtry might find its way, but he knew of no way to make that contact. It would be unseemly to write to her directly, unless invited to do so. Maybe, if the Senator actually did carry John’s regards, she would understand. If not, nothing lost … .
    The Senator made one remark which certainly gained the attention of John Buffalo.
    â€œNext spring, if my schedule and yours permit, perhaps you’d enjoy a visit to our farm. You’ve been around horses, I trust?”
    The remark about horses was accompanied by an odd sidelong glance, as if it were a joke. John was puzzled. He had been with horses all his life, until he was sent away to school. He longed to be with them again.
    Years later, he realized the subtle meaning behind the remark. The honorable practice of stealing horses to prove one’s manhood, practiced among the natives of the great plains, was not understood among whites, and was frowned upon.

TEN
    L ate in the fall football season, Carlisle’s squad traveled by train to Massachusetts to play a team at Springfield College, a professional school for youth leaders and clergy. This college, the coach warned, was at the forefront of physical education in America. Many of the instructors and coaches in the widespread programs of the Young Men’s Christian Association were receiving their training at Springfield.
    â€œWe can expect to be competing against some top athletes,” warned McGregor. “These folks are hardworking and innovative.”
    This prediction proved true. Although friendly and accommodating, the men of Springfield College proved to be tough on the gridiron. There were new formations and maneuvers, as well as brute strength. As the shadows grew long, the game seesawed back and forth, the lead and the momentum changing several times. The clock ran out with the game tied, 35—35.
    Carlisle would spend the night before traveling home, and there was entertainment planned. After a friendly banquet with a lot of good-natured fun, it was announced that