Happy Funday To You All ~ PM (Oops Late)

 

In 1912, near the Badlands of South Dakota, a Lakota tracker named Amos Red Elk forged an unlikely friendship with a reclusive trapper named Silas McKeen. Silas, a Civil War orphan from Ohio, had wandered west with a rifle and a dog, building a life of solitude along the edge of the Pine Ridge Reservation. Locals called him “Ghost Man” because he rarely spoke and was always seen just before storms.

Amos had been raised in tradition—his grandfather fought at Little Bighorn, and his mother taught him to read the wind and water like scripture. One autumn, Amos found Silas injured in the hills, a rusted bear trap clamped around his leg. He brought him back to his own camp and nursed him through frostbite and fever. At first, Silas resisted—mistrusting the Lakota the way many white men did—but Amos said little, only lit the fire and sang soft in Lakota while the wind howled outside.

By spring, the two were sharing hunts, teaching each other languages, and drinking coffee boiled over pinewood fires. Silas taught Amos how to tan with smoke, and Amos showed Silas how to move with the buffalo-never head-on, always in rhythm.

They became local legends. In 1915, when a blizzard buried the trail to Rapid City, the pair delivered medicine on snowshoes to a dying child, saving his life. When asked why, Silas only said, "My brother said we go."

Amos passed in 1939, Silas two winters later. Their graves are side by side near a ridge of twisted pine.

No family by blood. But brothers, all the same.

Thank You Linda