Sagebrush Read online

  He fashioned a spearhead from one of the hinges and fastened it to the end of a long, straight pole with rawhide, making a very effective spear. He practiced every day until he could throw the spear with enough force to impale a large animal. He had no one to teach him, so he had to learn from nature’s greatest experts—the animals themselves. He spent hours watching the animals so he could learn from them. They had learned to blend with their surroundings, and he noticed that if the animals remained still and hidden, they were difficult to see. Only when they moved could he notice them. He practiced sitting completely still for long periods of time. When he dressed in skins that blended with his surroundings and sat completely still, the animals didn’t see him. The predators had to find him by their sense of smell, which gave him time to defend himself. When the predators had to face the point of his spear, they moved away. It was important not to look directly at the animals. If he looked directly at them, they could sense his presence. Placing branches before his eyes helped him to remain unnoticed.

  He practiced using all of his five senses—seeing, hearing, smelling, feeling, and tasting. He learned to identify the sounds of the day, and the sounds of the night. He could identify plants, trees, and everything else by the way they looked, felt, and smelled. He knew the seasons by watching the plants and animals.

  In spring, the earth renewed itself. Bright new plants sprang up, flowers bloomed, bees and other insects came to harvest the pollen, and pollinate the flowers they took the pollen from the plants to reproduce. In summer, the seeds grew to maturity, and in autumn they ripened, dropped their seeds, and then grew old and died. Their seeds would fall to the ground, thus beginning the process all over again. The winters were brutal and cold; the days were short and the nights were long. Some animals made dens and hibernated through the cold winters. Others, like Michael, had to struggle to survive.

  Each season brought its rewards, and each season made demands on him and the animals. In autumn, he gathered dry wood and stored it in his cave. He had to be sure he had enough to cook his food and warm his cave. He cured hides and used them for shelter and bedding. A pile of dry grass with a buffalo hide over it made a good bed; it was warm and comfortable, even on cold winter nights. He hung buffalo hides from the ceiling to form enclosures to contain the heat from his fires. The stream provided water for cooking, drinking, bathing, and washing. It was an underground stream, so it didn’t freeze in the winter. It remained about the same temperature all year round. Since it was fed by springs, it was unaffected by flooding.

  Surviving kept him busy most of the time. However, sometimes in the hot summer afternoons, he liked to lie on his back under one of the trees and watch the clouds drifting past the openings of the branches, giving dimensions to the clouds’ movements. The clouds gathered into towering thunderheads and produced flashes of lightning. Rumbling thunder reverberated across the plains, sounding like the wheels of wagons rolling across wooden bridges. At times, the thunder was like the cracking of a coachman’s whip echoing through the canyon.

  From the clouds, rain came—slowly at first, leaving the smell of raindrops on the dry ground. Sometimes, the rain fell in torrents, flooding the creek with turbulent cascades of brown water. Animals scurried for cover. Squirrels hid in hollow branches, rabbits hid in hollow logs or under overhanging rocks. Grazing animals sought shelter under the large trees, and then waited patiently for the rain to pass.

  When it passed, they shook the water from their coats and went on about their business of living, as though nothing had happened. After the rain, the air smelled clean, and everything was refreshed. Mother Nature had given the world a bath.

  On long summer evenings, Michael sat on the rock ledge in front of his cave listening to the night sounds and learning what kind of animal, or thing, caused each sound. Many creatures and things created sounds, such as the creaking of tree branches moving in the wind, fish splashing in the ponds, and the mating calls of the animals, birds, and even insects.

  Everything made sounds; each sound was distinct to whatever made them. He listened carefully and noted who or what made the sound and learned to identify them.

  Baby and adult animals made different sounds. Mother animals called to their babies, and the babies replied. Michael learned that animals talk to one another. They didn’t use words, but they had ways to express fear, anger, pain, and love. They warned one another of impending danger, and when they found enough food to be shared, the called others to share it.

  During mating season, the males and the females would call out with different sounds, each letting the other know of its needs. Michael learned about life by watching animals mating, giving birth, and caring for their young. He watched them grow old and die.

  Plants live in a world most people never notice. In certain environments, the plants are happy, and when they are happy they thrive. If plants are unhappy, they don’t do well. Plants must fight for their right to live, and they must fight for their place in the sun, or in the shade, whichever the plant need to live out its life and fulfill its destiny. Plants fight for moisture, space, nutrients, and sunlight. They fight against being destroyed by grazing animals, by growing new branches when they are cropped off and eaten. Michael learned to revere all life and respect each and everything, because each thing has its place and fulfills a need in the larger scheme of things.

  He learned to determine when a predator was in the area by listening to the sounds, or lack of sounds, of the animals being preyed upon. For instance, when a wolf or a mountain lion was preying upon them, they remained still and quiet until the predator went away.

  In the evenings, he read his mother’s books until he could recite some of them from memory. He learned math, history, and language from the books. He read his mother’s Bible. He didn’t understand it, but his mother would have wanted him to read it, so in her memory he read it.

  He spent days exploring the countryside, looking for signs of other white men. He knew he was far south of both the Santa Fe and the Cimarron Trail, but he had no way of knowing how far.

  Occasionally, he saw Indian women gathering fruit, roots, nuts, and vegetables, and placing what they gathered in baskets, woven from branches or vines. Some of them used bags made from the hides of animals. They wore clothing made from the skins of animals. Some wore their long, shiny hair hanging around their faces and shoulders. Others wore their hair braided or tied back from their faces. They chattered and laughed as they worked. Michael wasn’t afraid of the women, but he knew they were a source of danger, so he remained hidden. If they knew he was there, they would tell the men, and the men would come hunting him. Sometimes he followed the women to their villages, remaining well back so as not to be detected.

  His highly honed senses of seeing, hearing, smelling, and feeling, and his practiced awareness of the presence of danger, enabled him to remain concealed. On occasions, he saw bands of Indians on horseback. He watched them from a distance, but he didn’t see his old enemies. These men’s villages were to the north or east. His enemies had gone south after they plundered the wagons.

  Michael wanted to know where the Indians lived, so he could avoid meeting them accidentally. As far as he was concerned, all Indians were dangerous. After the experience he had with Indians, he didn’t trust any of them.

  * * *

  One day, while searching near his cave, he found a narrow opening to a blind canyon that would make a perfect corral for animals. The canyon’s opening was only a few feet wide until after you entered it, and then it opened to about one hundred feet wide and several hundred feet long. The enclosure had an abundance of grass with a small stream running through it. It looked like it had been an underground stream at one time, and the top of the cave had fallen in, forming a hidden valley with vertical walls. Like his cave, you had to stumble onto it to find it. It couldn’t be seen from a distance.

  This would be a perfect place to keep animals. If I could catch wild horses and train them, I would have ho
rses to ride. Having horses will help when I’m ready to leave my cave in search of the place called Santa Fe.

  * * *

  Years passed, and Michael became adept at living in the wild. He grew too big to get through the opening of his cave, so he carefully enlarged it, just enough to squeeze through. He concealed the opening by planting more willows. He never stepped on bare ground, or left a track. Stealth was his way of life.

  In winter, when the ground was covered with snow, he didn’t venture out. He couldn’t prevent leaving tracks, so he waited for the snow to melt. He spent these times making tools and practicing with the ones he had, honing his ability to throw his knife, spear, and ax with deadly accuracy. He was far enough south that the snow would seldom last more than a few days.

  He had enough food stored to last him for extended periods. He spent hours exercising, to build up his strength and agility, always preparing for the time when he would go against his enemies. He made clothes and fashioned covers for his feet by taking long strips of buffalo hide, pulling the ends up around his feet and legs, and then lacing the sides together with thin strips of the hide. He made thick soles by placing extra layers of buffalo hide in the bottom. The coverings gave him protection and warmth.

  The cold wind howled through the canyon, leaving snowdrifts that covered everything. The trees lost their leaves, and everything was stark and bare. The nights were long and lonely. He watched animals burrow into the snow to get out of the cold wind, lining their dens with grass and twigs to prevent sleeping on the cold ground. Animals taught him how to survive in the bad weather, and they taught him how to stay hidden, even in winter.

  After the long, cold winter passed, the sun returned and warmed the land, then rains came, and life sprang forth. In summer, violent storms passed through the area, and at times the wind would be so strong that it would knock down even the largest trees. The creek would flood and wipe out all traces of anyone ever having been there.

  * * *

  Six years passed. Michael became a full-grown man. His hair was the color of sand. He had wide-set blue-green eyes, and he was more than six feet tall, with a strong, muscular body, wide shoulders, narrow hip and waist. He moved with the fluid movements of a cat. His strength and agility were exceptional. He no longer feared anything that moved. Nature provided everything he needed, except human companionship.

  He practiced telling the time of day by watching his shadow move around him like the shadow on a sundial. The sun crossed the sky by rising in the East, and setting in the West, telling him directions. He didn’t remember the names of all the stars, but he knew about them and could tell the time of night by watching the other stars rotate about the North Star. His father taught him this when he took him on shakedown cruises.

  Michael was no longer afraid of getting lost. It was time to find the men who had killed his mother and father and settle the score.

  * * *

  The night before he was to leave, he was awakened by an animal growling. It was too dark to see, but he knew by smell that it was a mountain lion trying to get into his cave! He grabbed his ax and spear and moved near the opening. In the faint light, he could see only the head and part of the shoulders of a huge lion. If the lion was having difficulties working its way into the cave, it was larger than he was! Michael was strong, but no man is a match for a full-grown mountain lion. He didn’t dare allow this beast to enter his cave, and he knew that he had to deal with it in the narrow confines of the opening, or he would lose his life to this animal.

  The lion had the advantage. Its eyesight was better in the dim light, and it had a better sense of smell. Michael held the spear in one hand and the ax in the other. He faced the formidable adversary knowing he was in a fight to the death. The lion hissed and snarled as it made swipes with his long claws. One swipe with those claws would kill him or leave him damaged for life. He poked and gouged with his spear, yelling and screaming, trying to scare it away. The lion only hissed and growled, louder.

  Michael realized that he was not going to frighten the lion away, so he knew he must kill it, or it would kill him. He readied his spear, aimed at a spot just below the jaw of the lion, and made one powerful lunge. If he were successful, the lion would be killed, but if he missed, he would die. The point of the spear struck true, penetrating the throat of the huge animal and going all the way into its body, slicing its heart. In one quick and decisive move, Michael had won the battle! The lion’s body lay half in and half out of the cave; its blood was being carried away by the stream.

  Michael sat with his feet in the water. The seriousness of the fight and the flow of adrenalin had left him shaken. It took a while to regain his composure . . . . To be awakened from a deep sleep and have to fight for his life was not something he wanted to do every night. Now that the lion’s body was limp, Michael was able to drag it into the cave. He would deal with the disposal of the carcass tomorrow. He spent a troubled night, almost afraid to go back to sleep. Each time he fell asleep, he was startled to wakefulness by the slightest sound. He was glad when morning finally came.

  When the first light entered his cave, he began the day.

  He took one look at the dead lion and realized that its skin would make a perfect garment. By preparing it just right, he could wear it in a way that would make him look like a lion. It would take a few days, but it would be worth the effort. He cleaned, scraped, and tanned the hide and shaped it to fit his body. The head of the lion he left attached, so he could wear it over his head or pushed back. The color of Michael’s hair and beard matched the color of the lion; the effect was startling. When Michael lay crouched in tall grass, he looked like a lion.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Evening Star

  He wanted to make sure he was ready before going after the men who killed his parents, so he made a test run. He departed early in the morning, traveling in a direction he had never traveled before. After walking for hours, he heard a commotion. It sounded like a pack of wolves attacking a human. He moved toward the sound, careful not to be seen. Upon passing a knoll, he saw what appeared to be two Indian women.

  One was a girl; the other was a mature woman who was old enough to be the girl’s mother. The older woman was sitting on the ground with her back against the wall of the canyon and seemed unable to get up. The girl was trying to fight off a pack of wolves with a stick. The wolves were circling, snarling, and slowly moving forward, knowing that soon they would have an opportunity to close in for the kill. The women were frightened, and well they should be. Without help, it was just a matter of time before they would be killed.

  What should I do? For years, I’ve been avoiding Indians. If I don’t go to the aid of these women, they’ll be killed. If I go to their aid, everyone in the Indian village will know that I’m here and I’ll be in danger. They won’t know about my cave, but they’ll know that I’m in the area, and they’ll hunt me like an animal.

  Michael couldn’t just leave the women to be killed so he drew his ax and readied his spear and then approached the pack from behind. The wolves were so intent on their victims that the women saw him before the wolves did. When the women saw him, their faces expressed sheer terror. They saw a mountain lion with a human face, carrying what they believed to be a tomahawk and a spear. This was even more frightening than the wolves! They believed the lion to be some kind of an aberration that was helping the wolves! They expected to be killed by this terrible beast at any moment.

  When the wolves became aware of Michael, they turned as one to face him. Wolves would never attack a mountain lion. This looked like a mountain lion, but the wolves knew by their ability to smell that it was not. They moved forward, against him in a compact force. Some circled while others approached in a crouched position, prepared to leap. Michael knew that if he could kill the leader, the others would run away. He took careful aim with his ax. He had practiced this throw many times; now he would see if he had acquired the skill he believed he had. If he missed, he would have onl
y his spear and his knife to fight off the entire pack. He had better be right; if he missed he would be just another victim of that snarling pack.

  He threw the ax at the leader of the pack with all his strength. The razor-sharp blade struck its target with a reassuring thud, severing the wolf’s head. The rest of the pack turned and ran off into the trees. The fight with the wolves was over, but now he had to decide what to do about the women.

  Their faces showed sheer astonishment. They had just seen something that none of their tribe would believe.

  Michael retrieved his ax and placed it on the ground with his spear so the women wouldn’t be afraid of him, and then he moved forward slowly. The women were still frightened, but they were beginning to realize that he had saved their lives and that he meant them no harm. They could see that it was not a lion with a human head but a yellow-haired young man with a golden beard, dressed in the skin of a lion. They dared to believe that their lives had been saved. Holding his hands up with the palms out in an effort to show his peaceful intentions and using sign language he had learned from his father, he looked at the girl and indicated his willingness to help her carry her mother back to their village. He cut two poles and placed his buffalo robe between them making a travois, and then he helped the injured woman onto the rack. The girl saw what he was doing, started to walk in the direction of their village, and indicated that she wanted him to follow.

  They walked for hours. Michael had to ease the travois over and around logs and boulders. It was a long and tiring journey, but he proved worthy of the task. As it was starting to get dark, he smelled campfires. He couldn’t see the village because of the trees, but he knew it was close. He placed the travois against a log, being careful not to injure the woman, then picked up his spear, and started walking away, indicating to the girl that he didn’t want to go any farther. She saw that he was concerned and knew he didn’t know what to expect from her people; however, she knew they would want to thank him. She took his hand to lead him. He drew back and again walked away. The girl ran after him.