In my last post I told you about my long-time friend Dr. Bob Miller’s (DVM) work on natural horsemanship and how his book ”The Revolution in Horsemanship” brought back memories of my own boyhood in Wyoming, and of my Native American pal Sakawa.
Now Sakawa remains a real mystery. He “happened” into my life at an amazingly opportune, and I could not say it enough, most critical time. He solved everything. That alone would seem enough reason to leave an impression, but a whole lifetime? It was not just his incredible skill and knowledge with mustangs, but a girth of Native American psychological sayings which bespoke an insight deep into both Mother Nature, animal nature, and most of all human nature.
At the time I was stricken with surprise and at the same time wonder. Anything he had, carried, or wore, was of great interest to me. But the most awesome, and puzzling, was the time he gave me a lariat on probably his last visit to the ranch. Why on earth would he give me this very special lariat? It was almost like a fine bridle or even a saddle. I could see many coils and knew it was really long. It made a profound impression. I was all broken up and trying so hard not to cry. I remember him putting his left hand to my shoulder. I couldn’t believe it, but even then I got to thank him!
And soon afterwards he simply stopped coming to the ranch. It’s as if he simply vanished. Over the years I have tried very hard to trace him, and still am, with the help of a few cherished Native American friends. And the question persisted throughout those years, why would he give me such a lariat?
Recently all the same questions came back again. I had been talking to my friend Dr. Bob Miller (no relation), the renowned author and veterinarian, and he jumped upon my happening to mention my having a braided leather lariat that had been given to me as a gift so long ago by a Native American horseman.
“I need to see it!” he said. So I came down to visit him at his home and brought it with me. When I showed it to him, he took it from me, gently working it between his thumb and fingers, ever so carefully and thoughtfully smelling his fingers, then quickly disappeared out the door.
As I’ve mentioned Bob is the author of many excellent books about horses and horsemanship. I had not necessarily anticipated his reaction to my lariat, but when he came back inside to our small group I saw his dazed pleasure when he carefully laid out the lariat coils on the table. He took one slow, deep breath, and everybody went quiet. He said, “the braid is pure rawhide without end and well over 60 feet long.” He paused, and then said, “it’s made for a left-handed roper.”
Well now! Today’s rodeo ropers, hardly any of them even heard of a leather rope, let alone seen one. And a left-handed one?
Was Sakawa left-handed? Yes, he was! I had not– I don’t think– fully paid attention or known that one more grain of what was Sakawa. Now I wounder if he knew I was right-handed? But still, why would he give me a gift of such workmanship and so very much of him? Was it his lariat? To this day it seems never to have been used. We know it was, but it’s still in its absolutely original and unspoiled condition.
Bob went on to say “we must be in touch with Harold Wadley up in Idaho. Harold was born on the same Indian reservation where your Aunt had taught school. Harold will have a lot more to tell us here. This is really something…”
Ahh, this story continues in my next post. See you all later!
-D.M.
Posted on November 5th, 2007 by dogmaste
Filed under: Memoirs