Julian Leaping Frog, or Julorg, as he was most commonly called by, sat alone on a rock looking out across the vast land which lay before him. Little Bighorn River, named after his people’s brave leader, could be distinctly seen flowing across the great plains of grass and dirt.

     Julorg saw his leader as a great man, though in reality he knew very little of the man and in fact all he did know of him was that which he heard in stories passed around the encampment, most of which proved to be entirely over-exaggerated into grotesque pieces of fiction. He sighed, a deep, sorrow filled sigh for a boy of eighteen. He had seen so much pain, and violence, not only from the American soldiers but from his own people’s hands. Like some of the others, Julorg was tired of fighting, battle after battle, each fight claiming another life, a friend a cousin. His own brother had died in a raid three days before.

    There was a sound behind him coming from farther down the small, dirt foot path. Julorg turned and grabbed his bow, then smiled.  “Tia”, he said as he stood. Tia was three years younger than Julorg. The daughter of a wealthy settler who lived near Chief Joseph’s encampment, the two had met one afternoon in August while Tia was out riding and Julorg was watching at his post for soldiers.  After weeks of meeting in secret, neither of their families knew for fear that they would not be allowed to see each other again, Julorg had learned enough English that they could communicate. For hours they would sit, side by side on the side of the mountain staring down across the beautiful land which had been the cause for so much strife between the two powerful races.

            Today Julorg had much on his mind. He felt happiness and relief flood his soul as he watched her approach. She was dressed in a green riding dress, much lighter material for the hot climate. Her long brown hair was tied back in a white ribbon and in her hand she held a straw sun bonnet covered in more ribbon and flowers. She smiled as she walked up to where Julorg sat watching her in silence. He always looked so solemn that she wondered why he kept asking to meet her. She supposed he was tired of spending so much time around the rest of his gruesome people. “Hello”, she said as she sat down beside him and sighed as she looked out across the prairie before her.                                                        

     “ You tired”, he asked as he stared at her.

     “ Not any more so as yesterday or the day before or the day before that”, she laughed as she turned to look at him,” you never have told me why you always ask me this question.”

     “You look tired today you look tired yesterday so I ask you?” he grinned slightly and turned to look again down on the land below. As they sat together there on that dry brown soil which was so often stained with the blood of fighting men, they looked the picture of complete peace. Beauty and strength together in peace, a feat thought rather impossible at the time. That beautiful land which was fought over by the Indians and American’s weapons and strength, now bore the picture of heaven to so many of those same mighty warriors.