High on a Mountain

by Tommie Lyn

  She had brought a small axe, along with a few other tools, and Ailean used it to begin clearing a space for a garden near the hut. He speared fish every day, Kutahyah gathered edible wild plants and fruits, and they fared well without depleting the supply of food she’d brought. They enjoyed days of comfortable companionship but suffered through nights of frustration and loneliness because of Ailean’s inability to put his past behind him.

  One afternoon, after he had caught almost enough fish for supper, he stood on the bank and watched for another fish to swim within range of his lance. As he looked intently into the water, a faint yellow gleam from the bed of the stream in a shallow area bordering a deeper hole caught his attention. The yellow glow faded as the sun moved lower in the sky, but he marked its position in his memory. A small fish ventured from under the bank into the openness of the hole, and with one quick movement, Ailean speared it and lifted it from the water.

  He laid the lance and fish on the ground and stood still while the disturbance in the water cleared. He scanned the creek until he was sure he’d fixed his eyes on the place where he had seen the yellow glow. Moving slowly so that he wouldn’t lose sight of that spot, Ailean eased into the water. He moved from one side of the spot to the other until he saw the sunlight reflecting dull yellow on the creek bottom. He reached into the water, felt around until his fingers closed on something small, flat and rough. He brought it out of the water and looked at it, turning it over and around.

  It appeared to be some kind of metal. The object gleamed when sunlight struck it. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it intrigued him. He’d never seen anything like it. He laid it on a rock beside the creek while he retrieved the fish from the lance and added it to the others strung on a forked branch. He picked up the branch and the piece of metal and headed for the hut.

  FORTY-FOUR

  A sense of urgency kept Kutahyah tense and worried during her first days in the valley. How would they survive? They had no storehouse of food to carry them through the winter, and Asgayagiga had no musket to hunt meat. She didn’t want to return to Gulahiyi, to her mother’s house. Her cheeks flamed when she imagined what the gossip would be.

  “Kutahyah can’t seem to find and keep a good man, not even when she takes a white man.”

  No. She couldn’t go back. Even though her life with Asgayagiga was proving to be a disappointment, she couldn’t give up, couldn’t face the ridicule. She’d never let anyone know he didn’t love her, that, for some reason, she wasn’t worthy of his affection. Nor that he didn’t provide for her as she had expected. She swallowed her pride and turned her back on her desires to concentrate on the matter of their survival.

  Food concerned her most. She built a fish trap from pieces of cane, secured it in the creek, and Asgayagiga no longer had to spend time spearing fish for their meals. She showed him how to hollow a piece of cane to make a blowgun, and she gathered thistles to construct darts, as she’d learned to do when she was a child. He practiced with the blowgun and occasionally brought home a bird or squirrel to eke out their meals

  But her biggest focus was on foraging to increase her store of wild foods. She prepared some of what she found for meals and dried some for their use during the winter. She found a few fruit trees growing around the old home sites of the abandoned village downstream. In late summer when the fruit ripened, they ate some fresh, but she dried most of it.

  A tentative but growing feeling of security replaced the worries of her early days with Asgayagiga. They’d have enough food to survive the winter, and, in the spring, she could plant the Three Sisters, corn, beans and squash, in the garden plot Asgayagia had cleared.

  Kutayah also foraged for herbs and roots which she planned to trade for seeds. Kutahyah was of the Paint Clan and had learned as a child the preparation and use of herbal medicines.

  And when she wasn’t gathering food or herbs for medicine, she made baskets for trade. They needed things they couldn’t provide for themselves. Asgayagiga needed metal tools: a knife, a shovel and a larger axe. And they needed clothing. She could trade baskets to Gòrdan for those things.

  As Kutahyah and Asgayagiga worked together to make a home and a life for themselves, their respect and affection for one another developed while their mutual unfulfilled desire intensified. Kutahyah became content in her new life with the white man. It was perfect. Almost.

  ____________

  Gòrdan was glad to hear the news that Ailean had taken Kutahyah to his new home. He hoped his friend would be able to put the misery of his troubled past behind him and make a new life for himself. And he hoped the couple would find happiness together.

  ____________

  Kutahyah knew the area where they lived. One day as they ate their morning meal, she said, “The mountain of Tumbling Waters is near. It’s very beautiful.”

  “Amicalola?”

  “Asehi. Amicalola,” she said. “Yes. Tumbling Waters.”

  “What does that mean?” he asked, a quizzical expression on his face.

  She beckoned him to follow her and led him through the woods. Their trek ended by a stream at the base of a mountain. Water tumbled down different levels from the heights above to form the stream at their feet.

  “Amicalola,” she said, pointing to the waterfall.

  ____________

  Ailean looked up at the water plummeting down the mountainside. “Beautiful,” he murmured. “Like you.”

  As they admired the sight of water cascading over the rocks, Ailean slid his arm around her shoulders and drew her close. She nestled against him, leaned her head on his chest, and he rested his chin on top of her head. He caressed her cheek, and she put her hand on his, held it there for a moment. She kissed his calloused palm, and her tenderness awakened his desire. He embraced her, held her body tight against his own and kissed her forehead, her temple, her lips.

  She leaned back, looked lovingly into his eyes, and his passion cooled. Memories of Mùirne’s eyes filled with love and desire rushed into his consciousness, and guilt overwhelmed him. He took his arms from around Kutahyah, pulled away and turned his back on her.

  She stood unmoving, her arms still reaching toward him. When Ailean turned to her again, he saw confusion and hurt in her expression, saw tears spill onto her cheek. He brushed her tears away and took her in his arms again.

  “How can I tell you? How can I make you understand? It grieves me to know I hurt you,” he whispered. “I love you. But I love her, too. And she died for me. What kind of man would I be if I dishonored her sacrifice?”

  Kutahyah pulled away from him and wiped her cheeks with her hands. She straightened her shoulders, took his hand and led him to a faint trace that wove its way through the trees up the steep mountainside. She dropped his hand to climb the mountain, and he followed. When they reached a small gap near the top, she took his hand again and led him through the trees to the small brook that flowed across it.

  They strolled along beside the stream, hand in hand, until Ailean saw an opening ahead. He could see into the distance through it. He hurried toward it, pulling Kutahyah along. He stopped at the edge of the drop-off where the brook poured its contents over a rocky shelf onto a ledge of flat rocks about fifteen feet below. The water flowed over the ledge and plunged by fits and bounds down the mountainside.

  He looked out through the open space created by the stream, scanned the valleys and hills below and beyond. Here was the mountaintop he’d been searching for, a place where he could see far into the distance, could sit and think. A place where he could clear his mind. And it had been a gift to him from Kutahyah.

  ____________

  A few mornings later, Kutahyah noticed a haunted, faraway look in Asgayagiga’s eyes. Soon after they ate their morning meal, he disappeared. Kutahyah looked for him and found his tracks leading toward Amicalola. She followed.

  She arrived at the base of the mountain, but he wasn’t there. His tracks led to the trace that headed up the slope. Kutahyah began climbing.r />
  When she arrived at the gap near the peak of the mountain, she followed his tracks as they headed toward the waterfall. And stopped when she saw him sitting on the bank of the stream where the water poured down the mountain. He was staring out through the open space at the landscape spread below.

  Kutahyah said nothing. She watched him for a while, turned and started for home. There was so much about this white man she didn’t understand. Several times, she had become disappointed and angry with him, so angry she thought of taking her belongings and going back to her mother’s house. But each time, her love for him held her back. She loved him, and her love was growing stronger day by day.

  She sensed that he loved her, but there was distress deep within his spirit. She saw it in his eyes. And it stood between them. She didn’t know why he suffered so, but she would stay with him, would love him, and maybe one day his spirit would be healed and the hurt would pass. And he would love her as she longed to be loved.

  She would try to be patient, would try to ignore her desires.

  ____________

  The next time Ailean climbed the mountain, he took the axe to clear away some of the trees and brush that blocked his view. He slid down the bank beside the waterfall to the narrow level ledge to fell the trees growing there and on the bank. And he cut the trees and saplings along the stream near the drop-off where the water began its long journey down the mountainside.

  With great effort, he moved a large rock onto the bank of the creek near the edge of the precipice so he would have a place to sit. At last, he was satisfied. It wasn’t the same as the open view from the peak above his home in Scotland, but he was thankful for it.

  ____________

  As time passed, Ailean and Kutahyah learned more of each other’s words and were able to communicate about their day-to-day activities in a rudimentary way. But their tender glances told of their feelings, told more about their growing love for one another than mere words could have.

  One afternoon, Tenahwosi came to their house with a venison haunch. Ailean was glad to see him and greeted him warmly. Other than Gòrdan MacAntoisch, Tenahwosi was Ailean’s only friend.

  Kutahyah cut a roast from the haunch and placed it on a spit over the fire. She invited Tenahwosi to eat with them.

  While the meat cooked, Ailean showed him all they’d accomplished, the cleared space for the garden and some other improvements, including the asi he was constructing beside their small home, at Kutahyah’s insistence. And Ailean showed his friend the rudimentary storehouse he’d built behind the house to hold the harvest from crops he planned to grow during the next growing season.

  Tenahwosi expressed his approval of the work they’d done.

  They enjoyed the meal, and when Tenahwosi could not be persuaded to stay the night, Ailean and Kutahyah bade him a reluctant goodbye.

  ____________

  Jim Satterfield came into the tavern late one autumn afternoon, dirty and disheveled after weeks of a trek through the wilderness.

  “I need me a drink,” he said, tossing a coin onto the bar.

  “Well, well. Satterfield. Just the man I’ve been wanting to see,” said Latharn as he poured the drink.

  “Why’s that?”

  “I know where MacLachlainn is. I need someone to take me there.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes. He’s in Cherokee territory, up in the mountains, a trader said.”

  “Cherokee territory,” Satterfield said. “That covers a powerful lot of land. Whereabouts in the mountains is he?”

  “Well, I don’t know exactly. I just thought—”

  “Then you don’t know nothing,” Satterfield interrupted. “He could be anywhere up there.”

  “Is there any way I could find out exactly where he is?”

  “Sure, if you can speak Cherokee.” Satterfield laughed as though he’d made a joke.

  “Do you know anyone who speaks it?”

  Satterfield narrowed his eyes as he considered this question. “Well, a fellow I used to track with married a Cherokee woman a few months ago. I expect he could speak it a little by now. Or maybe she can talk English.”

  “Where can we find him?”

  FORTY-FIVE

  The autumn chill had painted the trees below with vivid daubs of orange, red and yellow, interspersed with the deep green pines. Ailean surveyed the expanse of color and sighed. He still felt the need to sit on the heights, loved viewing the beauty of nature around and below him, but somehow it didn’t have the power to soothe his heart as the view from his favorite peak in Scotland once had.

  Yet he was drawn here more often as his spirit warred with itself. As he grew closer to Kutahyah, the more he wanted her, and the more vivid his memories of Mùirne became. His struggle intensified as he was torn between his desire for Kutahyah and his compulsion to remain faithful to Mùirne.

  When the sun began its descent of the western sky, shooting golden streaks through the open spaces between the tree branches, he arose from his rock and started down the mountain. By the time he reached his home, it was almost dark and the air had grown cold.

  Kutahyah had the evening meal ready when he stepped into the warmth of their small house, hungry for the food she had prepared and hungry for her presence.

  ____________

  Latharn and Satterfield neared the Cherokee village of Ayuhwasi. Their progress toward the village had been monitored for some time, and they were met by a group of Cherokee men armed with muskets before they were within sight of it.

  “Be quiet and let me handle this,” Jim said to Latharn.

  “Osiyo,” Jim said to the men facing them.

  “Osiyo,” replied one of them.

  “I’m looking for Davey Wilkerson. He live here?”

  An older man turned to one of the younger men and conferred with him. The younger man trotted off on the trail to the village. Jim and Latharn sat on their horses while they waited, their uneasy eyes watching the armed men who surrounded them.

  The young man returned and said something to the older man, who used gestures to indicate that Jim and Latharn were to follow them. They rode along, men in front of them, men behind.

  “These Cherokees, they like to trade with white men, but they don’t trust them. Looks like they ain’t taking no chances that we ain’t friendly.”

  Latharn made no reply.

  ____________

  “Well, Jim Satterfield! What brings you here?” Davey said when Jim’s horse stopped in front of him.

  “I brung this here man to find somebody he’s hunting. So, how’s married life? Good as you thought it would be?”

  “It’s good. Real good. Wish I’d done it long ago,” Davey said. “Git down off your pony and come in for a spell.”

  He turned to a couple of the Cherokee boys who stood nearby watching and said something to them Jim and Latharn couldn’t understand. One of them came forward and took the reins of the horses. Jim and Latharn dismounted and entered Davey’s house, leaving the horses in the care of the boys.

  When they were all seated around the fire, Davey said, “So you’re hunting somebody. Why’d you come to me?”

  “Because we heard he’s living with the Cherokees somewhere up here.”

  “Aw, that could be most anywhere. I sure wouldn’t know where to start looking for him.”

  “But you can speak Cherokee, can’t you?” Latharn asked.

  “A little,” Davey said.

  “Well, you can ask others where this man might be, where we could find him.”

  “Look. I ain’t interested in tracking no people no more. I’m done with that.”

  “Ain’t no tracking to be done,” Jim said. “The Cherokees done give this man some land and he’s living in just one spot. We just need to know where that spot is.”

  Davey frowned. “They give him some land?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who is this man?” Davey asked.

  “MacLachlainn. Ailean MacLachlainn,” La
tharn replied.

  “You talking about Asgayagiga? He’s the only man I know of that they’ve give land to.”

  “No. I’m talking about a Scotsman. A Highlander who is said to be living here in Cherokee territory,” Latharn snapped.

  “Big man? Red hair?”

  “Yes! That’s him!”

  “You’re talking about Asgayagiga. That’s what the Cherokee call him. Bloody Man.”

  Neither Latharn nor Jim spoke. Latharn felt a faint tremor and a coldness move through his body.

  “Yep. You’re talking about Bloody Man. I’ve heard talk about him. I don’t know what you want him for, but I ain’t interested in tangling with him.” Davey shook his head. “Nope. Not me.”

  “You don’t have to tangle with him. Just tell us where to find him,” Latharn said.

  Davey scratched his head for a moment. “Wait here,” he said and went outside. He returned shortly with a young man. “This here is Inahdunai. He speaks a little English.”

  The young man stood impassively, looking over their heads at the wall beyond.

  “Do you know where Ailean MacLachlainn lives?” Latharn asked.

  “He don’t know the man’s English name,” Davey said to Latharn. He turned to Inahdunai and asked, “Where does Asgayagiga live?”

  “All know where is Asgayagiga. Two days past Gulahiyi,” Inahdunai said. “Near hunting trail from Elatseyi.”

  “Can you show us?” Latharn asked. “Can you take us there?”

  “No,” Inahdunai said and left Davey’s house.

  “Ain’t no Cherokee going to take you to Asgayagiga. They ain’t supposed to mess with him. But you won’t have no trouble finding it,” Davey said. “Like Inahdunai said, two days past Gulahiyi village on the way to Elatseyi. They’s a hunting trail runs through there.”