Shifting slightly in the gully he had selected for his ambush, he swung his rifle around to sight upon a doe that offered an inviting target as she drank next to a ten-point buck that was obviously the leader of the harem. Jace squeezed the trigger slowly until the Henry suddenly spoke and the doe jumped backward before falling helplessly to the ground. The other deer immediately bolted back into the trees as the echo of the shot rang out from the mountainside.
Jace did not move from his position for a few minutes while he watched the fallen deer from the cover of the gully. He told himself that it was unlikely a posse following him would be close enough to have heard the shot, but it had seemed unusually loud when it broke the silence of the mountains. When all seemed as peaceful as it had been before, he left the gully and hurried down to the edge of the lake. Mortally wounded, the deer tried to get to her feet when he approached, so he drew his knife and ended her suffering as quickly as he could. It was not the first deer he had butchered, so he wasted no time starting the skinning.
It was late in the afternoon by the time he had a good fire going with strips of flesh roasting over the flames. He ate the freshly cooked meat while he continued butchering the carcass, planning to smoke a good supply to last him for a while. His methods were decidedly primitive, since he had not had the foresight to take cooking utensils with him when he left his father’s cabin. Still, he did not let that discourage him. With his belly filled, he started smoking the rest of the meat over the fire. Although it was comfortably cool in the mountains, he knew that the meat would not keep long if it was not prepared properly.
It was then that he had a feeling that he was being watched. There was no reason to suspect it. It was more a sensing that he was not alone. He looked toward his horse, but the sorrel gave no indication that it had heard anything. Having learned to trust his instincts, he became immediately alert while careful not to show any sign of being aware of a visitor. He picked up his rifle as casually as he could and moved unhurriedly out of the firelight.
As soon as he was out of the fire’s light, however, he hurried to circle around toward his horse. Without knowing if his visitor was Indian, grizzly, or a posse man, he knew that his horse would be the primary target for any of the three. When he got in position behind the sorrel, he knelt beside a clump of chokecherry bushes, where he had a good view of his campfire and bedroll, and waited. He was about to conclude that his senses were spooked and he was just being overcautious when he heard the voice behind him.
“What the hell are you doin’ here?”
Startled, but reacting instantly, Jace dropped to the ground, rolling over on his back as he did to end up with his rifle pointed straight at the surprised intruder. “Whoa! Whoa!” the man exclaimed. “Don’t shoot! Just hold on a minute. If I meant you any harm, I’da shot you instead of sayin’ something.”
Jace hesitated, not sure if he could trust the stranger. Finally he said, “Well, you sure coulda sung out instead of sneakin’ up on a man’s camp.”
“I warn’t sure who you were and what you was up to,” the man said. “I heard your shot a couple of hours back, so I figured I’d come over and see who was messin’ around in my huntin’ spot.”
“Your huntin’ spot?” Jace repeated. “Well, I reckon I oughta be proud to get a chance to meet God, ’cause I figure that’s who owns these mountains.”
In the darkness of the trees, it was difficult to make out the features of the man, other than the fact that he looked to be sizable. Jace couldn’t see that his impertinent response had caused a smile to appear on his visitor’s whiskered face.
“God lets me look after it for him,” he said with half a chuckle. “I could smell that meat cookin’ a mile away. Maybe I could help you eat a little of it. Looks like you’ve got a plenty.”
“I reckon,” Jace said, and got to his feet, being careful to keep his rifle in front of him. “Come on over by the fire and you can help yourself to some meat.”
“Much obliged,” the man said, and walked out of the shadow of the trees. “Why, you ain’t much more’n a boy. I couldn’t tell from back yonder. You’re kinda tall and stringy.”
“This Henry rifle don’t know how old I am,” Jace informed him, still cautious, as his visitor was dressed in animal skins, looking much like an Indian.
The man laughed. “Nah, I reckon it don’t. But you ain’t got no reason to worry about me. Like I said, if I was figurin’ on doin’ you any harm, I’da already done it. I was just a little curious about you; that’s all. Anyway, I appreciate your hospitality. My name’s Teddy Lightfoot. What’s your’n?”
When Teddy walked out closer to the light of the fire, Jace could see that he was a white man, although he wore his hair Indian-style in two long braids. He seemed friendly enough, so Jace let his rifle drop by his side.
About to state his name, Jace hesitated. As far as he knew, he was most likely wanted by the law. Maybe it was not a good idea to use his real name. It was not a name his father had brought much honor to, anyway. With no time to think about it, he responded with the first name that came to mind. “Slater,” he said, giving his middle name.
“Slater,” Teddy repeated. “Slater what, or what Slater?”
“Just Slater,” the boy answered. “That’s all.”
Teddy shrugged. “All right, Slater,” he said, figuring the boy had a reason to use only one name, but he was indifferent as to that reason. “Let’s see how good you are at roastin’ deer meat. A little coffee wouldn’t be bad to go with it.” Without waiting for Jace, he strode eagerly over to the fire.
“I ain’t got no coffee,” Jace said.
“Dang! No coffee?” He glanced at the fire as if unable to believe it. When he saw no coffeepot, he took a closer look around the boy’s camp. “I swear, you ain’t got much of anything, have you?” He turned to Jace again and looked him in the eye. “Looks to me like you musta left somewhere in a hurry.”
“I’ve got this rifle and flint and steel to make a fire, so I reckon I won’t go hungry,” Jace stated.
“Until your cartridges run out,” Teddy said, sizing up the situation fairly easily. “Even an Injun don’t live on nothin’ but meat. You’ve got to have some beans and biscuits from time to time. You live on nothin’ but meat and pretty soon your belly will draw up in a knot. And you’ve got to have coffee,” he stated emphatically. “I know I do. Hell, the first thing I cried for after my ma popped me outta the oven was a cup of coffee.” He paused to study Jace’s reactions before concluding. “The way I see it, you musta had to run for it in a helluva hurry, and you didn’t have time to grab everything you need. That about right?”
“Maybe,” Jace replied stoically, seeing no reason to deny it.
“You don’t talk much, do you? Well, don’t matter, I can talk enough for both of us.” He paused then while he continued to study the young man he had happened upon. Although sober and dispassionate, he showed no reluctance to look a man straight in the eye. Teddy decided there was no evil in the steady gaze. “Tell you what,” he decided. “Why don’t we pack your little mess up here and ride on down the mountain a piece? I’ve got a camp in a canyon about two miles from here. We’ll have us some coffee then.” He didn’t wait for Jace’s answer. “I’ll go fetch my horses and we’ll load that meat up.”
Jace watched the huge man as he walked away, and wondered if he was as friendly as he appeared to be. He decided to be cautious until he was sure.
Teddy disappeared into the trees again, but reappeared a short time later leading two horses, one of them loaded with what looked to be a good supply of meat. “You ain’t the only one that’s been doin’ some huntin’,” he announced cheerfully as he led the horses up to the fire. “I got me an elk on the other side of this mountain, and I was on my way back to my camp when I heard you shoot that deer. I’ll be dryin’ the meat for jerky. If you want, I’ll help you smoke that deer.”
Jace took only a moment to consider, not realizing at the time that he was about to make a decision that would set the pattern for his life.
“I reckon,” he said, deciding that he could trust Teddy Lightfoot. The thought of a cup of hot coffee to help choke down his venison seemed too good to pass up and might have had the most influence upon that decision.
* * *
I hope to hell I ain’t gonna be sorry for this, Teddy thought as he led the strange boy down the far side of the mountain. Going solely on his instincts, he had decided there was no real evil in the boy’s intentions. He was in trouble. That was easy enough to see. He was running from someone, and since Teddy couldn’t be sure whether or not that someone was hot on his trail, he thought it best to assume that they were. Consequently, he made sure he didn’t leave an easy trail to follow when they descended the mountain.
Jace had a good sense of direction, so he had to wonder if Teddy had forgotten the way to his camp, considering the many changes in directions, even doubling back to ride up the mountain again, climbing up the middle of a stream when there was a usable game trail right beside it.
In time, it occurred to him that Teddy was making sure no one followed them, and the thought occurred to him then, I hope I ain’t making a mistake. Without thinking about it, he dropped his hand to rest on the butt of his rifle.
Finally they rode over a ridge and down into a secluded ravine lined with aspen and pines. Teddy rode to the lower end and dismounted in a small clearing. Almost hidden from view was a small shelter formed by several young pines bent over and tied together, with a portion of buffalo hide serving as a roof. Jace stepped down and looked around him at the ashes of a fire, but little else. And he wondered about the offer Teddy had made of hot coffee when he saw nothing in the camp in the way of utensils or supplies. He had looked at his host, about to ask, when Teddy said, “Let’s take care of the horses first, and then we’ll get us some coffee started.”
“How we gonna do that?” Jace wondered aloud.
His question caused Teddy to chuckle. “We’re gonna get my coffeepot and the rest of my possibles outta that tree yonder,” he said, pointing to a pine on the side of the ravine. Jace turned to see a sack hanging from a length of rope tied to a slender branch halfway up the tree. “I’ve seen plenty of bear sign near here, so I had to find me a limb too thin to hold a bear. I’da had that sack with me if I’d knowed I was gonna be ridin’ up to where I found you. Didn’t know I’d be gone that long, but it looks like I lucked out. Don’t look like no critters found it.”
What a strange man, Jace thought as he released the cinch and pulled his saddle off.
In a short time, they had a fire going and coffee boiling. Teddy even had an extra cup he had brought along in case he lost the other one. With fresh-killed meat to roast over the fire, they sat back to enjoy their repast.
Teddy reached for the coffeepot and refilled Jace’s cup, suddenly asking, “So, just who are you runnin’ from, Slater?” When the boy hesitated, Teddy asked, “Is it the law? What did you do, steal somethin’?”
“I shot a man,” Jace blurted before taking more time to think about the consequences of his answer.
“Is that a fact?” Teddy responded, not seeming to be especially shocked. “How’d you come to do that?” He kept prodding until Jace finally told him the circumstances that had led him to shoot the blacksmith in Virginia City. “And you don’t know if you killed him or not,” Teddy repeated to himself. “Well, hell, you say he took a shot at you? And all you was tryin’ to do was bury your daddy?” Jace nodded. Teddy went on. “I can’t say as how I might notta done the same thing in your shoes. Least you didn’t steal nothin’. I can’t abide a man that’s a thief.”
He finished his coffee and sat back against a tree to relax for a few minutes before starting the process of smoking the meat.
* * *
They remained there two more days, preparing Jace’s deer, the elk that Teddy had shot, and another deer that was misfortunate enough to wander through the ravine. During that time the crusty mountain man and the solemn boy became comfortable in each other’s company. When the work was done, and they decided they had run all the game away from the valley, Teddy announced that he was going to head for home. “Why don’t you come along, Slater?” he asked, taking the boy somewhat by surprise.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “You ain’t ever said where home is.”
“Four or five days southeast of here, on the other side of the Yellowstone, in the Absaroka Mountains,” Teddy said. “God’s country,” he went on, “best huntin’ there is—elk, mule deer, moose, bears—damn near every critter a man wants to hunt. You can even find sheep and goats, especially in the Beartooth Mountains right next to the Absarokas.”
Slater thought about that for a moment before asking, “If there’s all that game there, what are you doin’ huntin’ elk in these mountains?”
Teddy shrugged. “I reckon even ol’ Adam wanted to get outta paradise once in a while. That’s kinda the way it is with me. I live with a small village of Crow Injuns, back in a narrow canyon where a waterfall makes a deep lake that not many folks know about. There ain’t but seven tipis, but many years ago those valleys were the homeland of a lot of Crows. It’s pretty rugged country, but it suits me fine, and I don’t know no place that beats it. But like I said, every now and again I feel the itch to get off by myself for a spell. So I’ll ride off like I used to do when I was a young man, free and easy, and never mind tomorrow.” He paused to chuckle. “I told Red Basket—that’s my woman—I was goin’ to look for a medicine elk, and there warn’t none in the Absarokas or the Beartooths. Truth be known, she most likely is as glad to get rid of me for a little spell, too.” He beamed at the thought. “Make no mistake, though, she’s mighty glad to see ol’ Teddy come home.”
“So you’ve got a family,” Slater said. “I didn’t figure you to be married.”
“Well, why not?” Teddy replied grandly. “A distinguished-lookin’ gent like myself? It’s more of a miracle that I stayed single as long as I did.” He drew himself up in a stately pose that caused Slater to grunt derisively.
“You have any children?” Slater asked.
“No, thank heaven for that. I’m a little past the child-raisin’ age and so is Red Basket.” He became serious for a moment then. “If you’re worried about the law, or a lynch mob lookin’ for you, there ain’t a better place to hide out than those mountains. I guarantee you that.” He waited for Slater to think it over. “Whaddaya say?”
After a moment, Slater decided. “All right, if you’re sure the rest of that village won’t care.” At this particular time, he had no destination in mind, so he thought that it might give him time to plan just what he was going to do.
“Fine and dandy,” Teddy said. “We’ll start back in the mornin’.”
* * *
The trip to the Crow village took the five days that Teddy estimated. The northern foothills of the Absarokas were actually reached in four. Much of the fifth day was spent following a series of game trails that crossed deep canyons before climbing through dense pine forests that cloaked the steep slopes, broken occasionally by broad mountain meadows. It was easy for Slater to understand why his new friend had said it was an ideal place for someone who did not wish to be found.
In the afternoon of that last day, Teddy reined his horse to a stop and waited for Slater to come up beside him. “Hear that?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Slater replied. “I’ve been hearin’ it for a while, and it’s gettin’ louder. It sounds like the wind blowin’.”
“It does, don’t it?” Teddy said. “Sounds more like supper to me, though. Ride on up around that bend, and you’ll see why.”
Curious, Slater did as Teddy suggested. Rounding a steep granite formation that forced the trail to take a wide turn around it, he was amazed to find the source o
f the windlike sound. The spectacular beauty of a waterfall spilling over a rocky cliff would be a sight he would never forget, as it fell some two hundred feet to crash on the rocks that formed one bank of a crystal clear lake below. This was the paradise that Teddy had casually referred to.
A moment later, he was startled by a loud howl from Teddy, like that of a coyote, when he came up beside him. “Just lettin’ Red Basket know I’m home for supper,” Teddy said, grinning from ear to ear. “Come on. It’ll still take us fifteen minutes to follow this trail down there.”
The trail took them to the lower end of the lake. They circled around the eastern bank to pass through a broad meadow where a pony herd grazed peacefully. A small group of people walked out to greet them as they approached the circle of seven tipis standing close up against the steep slope of the mountain. Leading them, a large-framed woman with coal black hair streaked with gray paused to wonder at the rider accompanying her husband. By the time the two dismounted, the rest of the people in the camp came out to meet them, curious to see who the stranger might be.
Slater stood beside his horse while Teddy strode forward to greet his wife. She pressed her face against his in a gentle gesture while still gazing at the obviously ill-at-ease boy. Speaking in the Crow tongue, she teased, “You went to hunt elk, and you came back with a white boy. Do you want me to cook him?” Her question caused those standing around her to laugh.
Answering her in her native tongue, he said, “No. I think he might be too tough and stringy.” Then in English, he said, “This is Slater. He’s my guest.”
In the Crow tongue again, he told Red Basket that he would tell her the young boy’s story later on. Then he again told the others gathered around that Slater was a guest. They responded cordially, smiling at Slater and nodding politely. A few offered words of welcome, which he didn’t understand but could interpret as friendly. He nodded in return. It didn’t strike him until later that the men he saw in the village were all older men. There were no young warriors and no children. He assumed that all the younger men were away from the village hunting.
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