The howl of a lone coyote was the only sound that Jesse heard as he lay under a full moon in the middle of the vast American wilderness. Even his horse was very quiet tonight. Sleep would not come, mainly because there was something else pondering his mind.

Now Jesse was a range rover. He would spend months in the wilderness gathering up wild horses and then selling them to the Calvary. He had recently completed one of his yearly trips. While at the Army post he gazed in wonderment at all the Christmas decorations that the fort personnel had set up. Memories of years past flooded his mind and his heart. Family times that were spent in joyous celebration. A single tear formed in the corner of his eye as he remembered the cries of joy from his brothers and sister. The sounds of the choir singing carols echoed down the valley to their small farm. The tear was quickly dried up when he also remembered the other cries. Cries of pain and agony as the Indians massacred his entire family as he hid in the woods and watched.

Never had a twelve-year-old boy experienced as much pain and suffering as he was feeling at that moment. He stayed hidden while the war party destroyed his family and his home. Frozen by fear and despair he would not, no he could not move. He stood next to the smoldering ashes and the blackened bodies of his family, Nary a tear would fall at this time. Only hate for the red man burned in his breast. His mind relived the horror as his body struggled to bury his family. He dug one common grave beside his mother’s rose garden, the only thing the savages did not destroy. His minds eye pictured the look on the leader’s face. A look of pure glee and the laughter as he wiped out Jesse’s family. He remembered his pony, because there was something very unusual, in that he was pure black, so black that he was almost blue like an Indigo snake, but the difference was he mane and tail were bright white. That image burned in his mind. He swore he would find that black pony and avenge his family’s demise on its owner.

"Hello! I say hello there". A stranger standing near by shook Jesse out of his reverie. "Excuse Me," said the stranger, "I saw you staring at the decorations and you seemed to be in some kind of emotional pain." Jesse merely shook his head and started to walk away. "I say brother", Jesse stopped and turned. "Please, may I offer you something?" The stranger held out a piece of paper with some writing on it. Jesse would not tell the man that he never learned to read. Realizing the fact, quickly the stranger quickly continued on with what he had to say. "I’m a preacher from St. Louie here to start a congregation at the fort. We’re having a special Christmas gathering in the mess hall tonight and we’d like you to come." " Why should I?" asked Jesse, "I’ve got a lot of things to do before I go back out there, pointing to the darkness beyond the fort's walls. Jesse explained his occupation. "Sounds like a mighty lonely life," said the stranger. "Anywise, stop by ifn you have a hankering to. " Jesse mumbled his thanks and ambled off.

After loading his supplies on his packhorse, he started towards the enlisted men’s mess for a drink and a bite to eat. But his steps were drawn towards the sounds of Christmas carols drifting across the compound from the mess hall. Stopping next to the open door he listened to the words of "Silent Night", thoughts drifting back in time, back to happier times. The preacher saw the shadow next to the doorway and sang even louder and motioned for the congregation to do the same. Memories flooded Jesse’s mind and heart and soon he found himself inside the door and standing at the rear of the room. The preacher was watching his every move and he was trying his best not to pay him any special attention. Continuing the songs, Jesse soon found himself joining in and singing the holiday melodies from years gone by. After the end of "Away in the Manger" the preacher motioned for the congregation to be seated. A family on the last row with their three children moved closer together so there would be room for Jesse. Hey! Think maybe that old preacher planned it that way?

Jesse listened as the preached talked about forgiveness and salvation. That if a person could not forgive his enemies then he could not expect to receive salvation and live with the Lord. Jesse knew in his heart he would never forgive the Indian on the black pony with the silver mane. In fact he had heard rumors here at the post that he had been spotted heading this direction. Driven from the eastern territory by the military, seeking to destroy him for his crimes against the settlers. Jesse already had made plans for his demise. Still listening to the preacher and still with hi mind on the Indian, Jesse did not realize that he was standing in front of the altar, tears streaming from his eyes. His heart was broken, he was lonely and afraid of his future. Admitting his sins and confessing them in public, Jesse became one of God's children that night.

After the service Jesse was invited to the home of the family with whom he shared the last bench. The children were much the same age as when that fateful night occurred. The mother bore an uncommon resemblance to his own mother. Although the father did not resemble his in the least. Gifts were exchanged between family members, there was even one for Jesse. Feeling overcome Jesse gave the family 5 lbs. of flour and a slab of bacon. This was greatly appreciated, because times were hard and any food was welcome. Saying goodbye Jesse mounted his horse and headed back to his camp. Now as he stared into starry sky the day’s events kept his senses from hearing something else, something not quite what he expected.

Gazing from the hillside, the lone warrior watched as the white man settled down for the night. He tied out his mount and gathered some extra firewood. Hearing his own mount whimper, the warrior turned to see the black pony with the silver mane and tail shake of the night’s dampness.

Along with his horse gathering, Jesse did some trapping and he had quite an impressive stack of furs, not to mention a new rifle, traps and other supplies. It was these that the warrior was keeping his eyes on. Restfulness and sleep was finally overcoming the day’s events. His mind wandered back to the Christmas celebration at the fort. Unaware that his own death and possible destruction was only a few yards away.

During his many months on the prairie, living off the land one learns the sounds and even the lack of sounds. Drifting off to sleep it was these that brought Jesse full alert and wide awake. First his horse stomped his feet and whinnened. The owl nearby who had been steadily hooting suddenly stopped even the crickets stopped their chirping. This was a three alarm-warning bell to Jesse. For the Indian had already crept down the hillside and was approaching Jesse's camp. Yet Jesse knew that he must not show alarm lest he play into the hands of whatever or whoever was out there. His rifle lay beside him; his bowie knife was next to his hand under his blanket. Slowly he opened one eye and then the other, careful to maintain the steady deep breathing rhythm of a person sound asleep.

The warrior had reached the furs and was starting to gather them up when he heard the unmistakable sound of a round being rammed into the firing chamber. There before him stood a young cowboy, red hair disheveled, and shirt half way pulled out and barefoot. The only menacing thing about this young man was however the muzzle of the rife pointing right between the warriors eyes. Motioning for the warrior to move away from his trappings, Jesse was suddenly alert to something else about this particular Indian. He could not put his finger on it right away. Then… with sudden clarity he realized who was standing there before him. For around his arm just above the elbow was tied a scarlet ribbon. This might not have meant much to anyone else, but Jesse had given that ribbon to his mother on her last birthday. Anger swelled up inside him as hot bitter tears filled his eyes. His finger instinctively tightened on the trigger. Even in the darkness the warrior could tell something was about to happen. He could see Jesse’s knuckles growing with the tension he was placing on the trigger. Finally intending to send this Indian to his happy hunting ground, Jesse heard the melody in his mind of "How Great Thou Art". Walking closer to the Indian Jesse looked straight into his eyes. He reached forward and took the ribbon from the warrior’s arm. He held it up to his face and said, "This was my mother’s. I watched you and your followers destroy my family and my home. I have held hatred in my heart for you since that day. I swore that I would destroy you the way you did my loved ones, and...

While Jesse was talking to the warrior he did not realize that he understood every word Jesse said.…"and" continued Jesse, "now I find you in my camp, I still did not realize who you were until I saw that ribbon on your arm. Now there is only one thing to make sure of." Hey! Jesse thought, I wonder if this redskin even knows what I am saying. "Do you speak the white man’s tongue?" asked Jesse. To his amazement the warrior answered, "My mother was also white, but the long knives came to our village and killed her before she could utter a word. I swore a vengeance on all white men from that day on. So I understand you when you say your heart is filled with hatred for me for what I did. My heart was also filled with the same anger when the white man killed my family.

"Where is your horse?" asked Jesse. The warrior put his fingers to his lips and let out a shrill whistle. Galloping over the hill came the black pony with the silver mane and tail. Confirmation that he had the right Indian, Jesse continued. "I have every right and every feeling in my body says to kill you here and now!" The warrior stiffened and held his head erect. "I am ready to die, for I go to a far better place." Jesse held up his hand. "No!" he said, " I will not, my God has given to me this night a peace and I will not take a life. But I will do one thing this night before you and my God. I will forgive you of the sins you committed to my family and me. This I do now!"

Well, the warrior was shocked to say the least, as Jesse lowered his rifle he said, "I can kill you now and ride away with all you posses." "Yes" said Jesse, "except my God will not let you. You may go and I pray some day you may lose this hatred you have for the white man." As Jesse turned away the warrior reached for his knife. but try as he might he could not remove it. As the black pony approached, the warrior swung easily up on his back. "Your God has saved you this night white man, however you may not be so lucky the next time we meet." Jerking the reins the warrior galloped off into the night.

Every muscle in Jesse’s body was shaking, every nerve tingled. He lay on his blanket, he knew in his heart that he had done the right thing. But as he raised the ribbon to his eyes his heart was broken all over again. As dawn approached, Jesse still had not slept, his gaze went around the camp, and everything was in order. The ribbon was still in his hand. As he surveyed the surroundings he attention was caught by a thin stream of smoke pasted against the glow of the morning sun.

Jesse grabbled his rifle and ran to the area where the smoke was coming from. Silently moving closer and closer, what do you think met his eyes? Tethered to a cactus stood the black pony. Sitting cross-legged next to a small fire was the warrior from the night before. Jesse approached cautious and at the ready. The warrior looked straight into Jesse’s eyes and said "Tell me of your God"