One to learn from: Bob Little Hawk | TheFencePost.com

One to learn from: Bob Little Hawk

Richard A. Payne
LaPorte, Colo.

He was wearing a beaded hat-band, a beautiful beaded bolo tie and a great beaded vest, made with his own hands. They were as impressive as the man himself. He was charming, intelligent, articulate and kind, he was clearly a gentleman and yet he radiated a real strength of body and character. I estimated his age at perhaps 50; he had passed his 80th year. He had aged like a fine German wine, yet he didn’t seem at all European. He was as tough and rough as the Old West.

I went on a routine and regular visit to Barnes & Noble Booksellers, and noticed him as I was leaving. I at first thought that he was like me, a collector of Native American art. The beadwork he carried reflected traditional Crow, Sioux and Cheyenne designs. It was detailed and well-executed. I inquired as to the artist’s name, and he replied “Bob Little Hawk!” I asked him if he was a friend of the artist, and he said, “I suppose; I am the artist.” We began to speak and he invited me to his little red station wagon to see some more samples of his beautiful beadwork.

“You live on the Poudre River, he asked?”

“Yes I do!,” I answered. “When I ranched at Granby, during the spring and fall we would herd 75 horses across country. We would ride cross-country, through North Park, up Cameron Pass, down that beautiful Poudre River to what is now Horsetooth Reservoir. In those days it was a big operation owned by the Soderberg Family, who now live up in Wyoming. It took us three days in the fall and four days in the spring to get back to Granby. We didn’t get much food or sleep, but it was a “delightful” trip (he was smiling ear to ear). Our highlight of the trip was getting a big cold milk shake at the Old Creamery in Fort Collins ” guess it closed years ago!” He was clearly talking about a time long before mine and I wanted to listen.

He was wearing a beaded hat-band, a beautiful beaded bolo tie and a great beaded vest, made with his own hands. They were as impressive as the man himself. He was charming, intelligent, articulate and kind, he was clearly a gentleman and yet he radiated a real strength of body and character. I estimated his age at perhaps 50; he had passed his 80th year. He had aged like a fine German wine, yet he didn’t seem at all European. He was as tough and rough as the Old West.

I went on a routine and regular visit to Barnes & Noble Booksellers, and noticed him as I was leaving. I at first thought that he was like me, a collector of Native American art. The beadwork he carried reflected traditional Crow, Sioux and Cheyenne designs. It was detailed and well-executed. I inquired as to the artist’s name, and he replied “Bob Little Hawk!” I asked him if he was a friend of the artist, and he said, “I suppose; I am the artist.” We began to speak and he invited me to his little red station wagon to see some more samples of his beautiful beadwork.

Recommended Stories For You

“You live on the Poudre River, he asked?”

“Yes I do!,” I answered. “When I ranched at Granby, during the spring and fall we would herd 75 horses across country. We would ride cross-country, through North Park, up Cameron Pass, down that beautiful Poudre River to what is now Horsetooth Reservoir. In those days it was a big operation owned by the Soderberg Family, who now live up in Wyoming. It took us three days in the fall and four days in the spring to get back to Granby. We didn’t get much food or sleep, but it was a “delightful” trip (he was smiling ear to ear). Our highlight of the trip was getting a big cold milk shake at the Old Creamery in Fort Collins ” guess it closed years ago!” He was clearly talking about a time long before mine and I wanted to listen.

He was wearing a beaded hat-band, a beautiful beaded bolo tie and a great beaded vest, made with his own hands. They were as impressive as the man himself. He was charming, intelligent, articulate and kind, he was clearly a gentleman and yet he radiated a real strength of body and character. I estimated his age at perhaps 50; he had passed his 80th year. He had aged like a fine German wine, yet he didn’t seem at all European. He was as tough and rough as the Old West.

I went on a routine and regular visit to Barnes & Noble Booksellers, and noticed him as I was leaving. I at first thought that he was like me, a collector of Native American art. The beadwork he carried reflected traditional Crow, Sioux and Cheyenne designs. It was detailed and well-executed. I inquired as to the artist’s name, and he replied “Bob Little Hawk!” I asked him if he was a friend of the artist, and he said, “I suppose; I am the artist.” We began to speak and he invited me to his little red station wagon to see some more samples of his beautiful beadwork.

“You live on the Poudre River, he asked?”

“Yes I do!,” I answered. “When I ranched at Granby, during the spring and fall we would herd 75 horses across country. We would ride cross-country, through North Park, up Cameron Pass, down that beautiful Poudre River to what is now Horsetooth Reservoir. In those days it was a big operation owned by the Soderberg Family, who now live up in Wyoming. It took us three days in the fall and four days in the spring to get back to Granby. We didn’t get much food or sleep, but it was a “delightful” trip (he was smiling ear to ear). Our highlight of the trip was getting a big cold milk shake at the Old Creamery in Fort Collins ” guess it closed years ago!” He was clearly talking about a time long before mine and I wanted to listen.

He was wearing a beaded hat-band, a beautiful beaded bolo tie and a great beaded vest, made with his own hands. They were as impressive as the man himself. He was charming, intelligent, articulate and kind, he was clearly a gentleman and yet he radiated a real strength of body and character. I estimated his age at perhaps 50; he had passed his 80th year. He had aged like a fine German wine, yet he didn’t seem at all European. He was as tough and rough as the Old West.

I went on a routine and regular visit to Barnes & Noble Booksellers, and noticed him as I was leaving. I at first thought that he was like me, a collector of Native American art. The beadwork he carried reflected traditional Crow, Sioux and Cheyenne designs. It was detailed and well-executed. I inquired as to the artist’s name, and he replied “Bob Little Hawk!” I asked him if he was a friend of the artist, and he said, “I suppose; I am the artist.” We began to speak and he invited me to his little red station wagon to see some more samples of his beautiful beadwork.

“You live on the Poudre River, he asked?”

“Yes I do!,” I answered. “When I ranched at Granby, during the spring and fall we would herd 75 horses across country. We would ride cross-country, through North Park, up Cameron Pass, down that beautiful Poudre River to what is now Horsetooth Reservoir. In those days it was a big operation owned by the Soderberg Family, who now live up in Wyoming. It took us three days in the fall and four days in the spring to get back to Granby. We didn’t get much food or sleep, but it was a “delightful” trip (he was smiling ear to ear). Our highlight of the trip was getting a big cold milk shake at the Old Creamery in Fort Collins ” guess it closed years ago!” He was clearly talking about a time long before mine and I wanted to listen.