The next night, we made our way off the train and over to a nearby hill. The moon hung high overhead, bathing the countryside in a silver glow and shining off the tepees strewed out before us.
I froze in place. “This is where the injuns sleep, Wayne.”
“Yep, Shem, sure is. Though sleepin’ ain’t what we’ll be doing.” He grabbed my hand and led me forward.
I whispered in his ear, “But the injuns are kept separate from the rest of us.”
He didn’t respond, just kept pulling us between the odd looking leather homes before he stopped in front of one. Bending down, he split open the entrance and walked us inside. I’d never met an injun before, let alone stood in one’s tepee. This one was sitting cross-legged, dressed in tanned leggings and a fringed vest. “This here is Eagle Feather,” Wayne tol
