Grizzly
Mountains, February 1897
Runs with
the Wind spent the early morning rummaging through the mining camp. He was
heading into the Grizzlies with a stolen horse and only the supplies he was
able to grab quickly before he escaped, he needed more supplies. The cold
mountain air whipped through the holes in the rotting wood of the buildings as
he searched through them. The camp had long been abandoned; the rotting planks
of wood now home to small creatures desperate to seek shelter from the biting
wind. Runs with the Wind imagined the camp was once a thriving place full of
activity. Men hauling carts of rock and mineral out of the mine, cooks preparing
the evening’s supper, the sound of dynamite ringing through the air. But now,
all that was left was the deteriorating silhouettes of the buildings they had
once been. Among the buildings there were remnants of supplies and provisions
strewn about, most likely left behind by gangs and degenerates that had taken
refuge in the rubble just as he had.
Runs with the Wind searched the large building
at the front of the camp which had been a storage building for dynamite and
ammunition. He was able to find a few sticks of dynamite in an old crate, as
well as some rifle ammunition, a couple bottles of half-drank bourbon and some cigarettes.
He opened one of the bottles of bourbon and took a large swig. The dark liquid
burned as it went down, giving him a small sense of warmth against the cold
air. He stashed the rest of the bourbon and cigarettes in the saddle bag on his
horse and continued searching the camp.
As he moved
through the other buildings, Runs with the Wind was able to pick up a few
rations scattered about; a box of biscuits here, a can of peaches there, etc. There
wasn’t much, but he hoped it would be enough to at least get by until he could
set up camp and hunt. He stopped for a moment to watch as a small family of
rabbits climbed out from under one of the buildings into the morning air. There
was something calming about watching them work together to find food. They all
moved freely about the camp, calling to each other softly as they found something
to eat, stopping only briefly to look at Runs with the Wind as they went about
their morning. Runs with the Wind then looked up to see a chickadee flying overhead.
He watched as the bird carried small twigs to a nearby tree to build her nest
for the coming spring.
His life for
the past year had been chaos. Everything he had known had been flipped upside
down and he had no one left to turn to. But up here in the mountains of
Ambarino, life continued as normal; blissfully unaware of the world changing
down below. Strangely enough, in the last few years Runs with the Wind had
never felt more at home than he did in this moment. The rabbits, the birds, the
elks, he felt connected to them. They truly felt like his brothers and sisters,
just as he had been taught by the tribal elders.
His moment of
peace was then interrupted by the sound of a gunshot and men shouting in the
distance. A moment of panic quickly washed over him as he feared they were
Samuel Wyatt’s men out looking for him. His peace would have to wait, he needed
to disappear. He worked quickly to gather up his findings and store them in the
saddle bags, trying to fit as many items as he could. Once everything was
packed up, he ran over to the shack he had slept in and used the abundance of
snow to put out the remaining fire in the stove. He was trying as best he could
to erase the evidence of his stay at the camp. Once the fire was out, he untied
his horse from the hitching post and headed northeast over the hill that overlooked
the camp.
He watched
behind him as he crested the hill to make sure he wasn’t being followed. He
didn’t have time to cover the tracks he left behind, but he hoped to be far
enough north by the time anyone caught up to him that any incoming snow would
cover his tracks. The thick layer of
fresh powder made it hard to move, but he pressed his horse further up the
mountain.
Runs with
the Wind wasn’t sure where he was headed. He had been up in the mountains a few
times when he was younger on hunting trips, but never this far west. It was unfamiliar
territory, but he knew the further north he went, the less likely it was that
he would be followed. He had no choice but to head into the unknown.
As he
pressed forward, his surroundings were an endless sea of white and he found
himself getting lost in its beauty. The way the rising sun reflected like
crystals on the snow-covered path made him feel as though he were riding through
a crystal palace. He breathed in the fresh smell of pine from the trees that
surrounded him and listened as woodpeckers bore holes into their trunks. The mountains
seemed to tower over him like a giant trying to touch the sky. The cold stone
of the mountains were scattered with freshly fallen snow, perfectly placed into
the pockets and crevasses of rock. The further he pressed on, the colder the
biting wind became. The wind whipped through the air around him and sounded as
if it were trying to whisper to him. He pulled the fur collar of his coat tighter
around his neck to keep the wind from creeping in and pulled his bandana up
around his face.
As Runs with
the Wind crested a small hill, he was met by a large clearing of land created
by a mostly frozen lake. The bright sun and blue sky reflected perfectly like a
mirror on the uncovered patches of ice as he moved closer. At the far end of
the lake stood a deer on the edge drinking in the icy water. It looked up for a
moment as it heard the faint whinnies of Runs with the Wind’s horse as they
came to the edge, but no sooner went back to drinking once it felt it was safe.
Patches of snow danced upon the lake, propelled by the occasional gust of wind
that escaped into the basin.
Runs with
the Wind dismounted from his horse and lead him to the edge to drink. His new mount
had worked hard in the little time they had been together, and he deserved to
rest a while. Runs with the Wind reached into the saddle bag and found an apple
that he had taken from the ranch and fed it to his horse, who happily took the
apple from his hand. Runs with the Wind then grabbed a box of biscuits and a
cigarette for himself and sat down on the edge of the lake. He leaned forward
to take a drink, the icy water shocking his senses as he drank. He lit the
cigarette and took a long drag as he looked out over the lake.
If he wasn’t
running for his life, Runs with the Wind would have stayed in that moment
forever. The calm serenity of the lake, the wildlife it drew, the evergreens
reaching up toward the sky - it was all
breathtaking. He wanted to stop and pitch camp here, but he feared he wasn’t
quite far enough north. Anyone who knew this area well enough would know of
this place and would most likely think of it as the perfect hiding spot for
someone on the run.
Runs with
the Wind sat for a little while, taking in the scenery around him. After some time,
he noticed clouds rolling in over the mountains; snow would be arriving soon.
He stood up from his spot along the water and shook the snow off his clothes.
The incoming cloud cover was also bringing in a stronger wind that felt cold
against his snow-covered clothes. He stepped into the saddle and led his horse
around the west side of the lake. As he rounded the corner, he could see a
small stream coming from the north that fed into the lake. He thought it might
be a good idea to follow the stream for a little while to find a place secluded
enough that was close to a water source.
When the
stream split in two a little ways north of the lake, he followed the smaller of
the two streams, hoping anyone that might follow would think to follow the
larger stream. The sky was growing darker and snow was beginning to fall. He knew
he needed to pitch camp soon. Runs with the Wind followed the stream to its head
at the base of a waterfall that had been long frozen over on the outer surface.
Large icicles stood like pillars along the cliff, protecting the freely flowing
water held beneath the ice. As Runs with the Wind drew closer, he could see
something at the base of the waterfall.
When he reached
the waterfall, he was taken back by what he saw. A horse and its rider long
forgotten, flesh torn apart and rotting away. The rider’s belongings were
strewn about along the ice and had remained untouched. Runs with the Wind bent
down to examine the remains. The horse - both rotting flesh and bone showing – looked
like something out of a scary story the older children in his tribe would tell the
younger ones. The rider was curled up a few feet away, his appearance similar
to that of the horse. Runs with the Wind bowed his head and prayed for the stranger
and his horse, who met their demise with no one there to help them. The snowy mountains
of Ambarino can be a cold and unforgiving place, tucked away and different from
the rest of the world. In the states down below the enemy was man and greed,
while up here the enemy was nature itself – the cold, biting wind and the
creatures that roamed the mountainside.
Runs with
the Wind stood up and walked back over to his horse, not touching any of the
stranger’s belongings. He headed west over a hill that led to a small clearing.
At the bottom of the hill he was surprised to find a small cabin hidden away
among the trees.
Runs with
the Wind dismounted and grabbed his rifle from the saddle and cautiously walked
toward the front of the cabin. The cabin was covered in snow with cloths and
paper covering the open windows. As far as he could see the cabin seemed empty –
no smoke coming from the chimney or lights coming from inside. Still, his heart
beat fast as he approached the front of the cabin. Runs with the Wind pulled
back the fabric from one of the window coverings and peered inside and was
relieved to find that the room was empty. He worked to remove the snow that had
built up at the base of the door, which was a good sign that the cabin had been
unoccupied for some time. He stopped for a moment to wonder if the stranger he
found by the waterfall had been the one living here. He pushed the thought
aside as he broke through the build up of snow and ice and opened the door.
In the
diminishing light, he could see there was a lantern suspended from the ceiling
in the middle of the room. He went out to retrieve a set of matches from his
saddle bags and returned to light the lantern. The cabin was small with only
one room. A stone fireplace stood along the back wall of the cabin.
As he moved
about, he kicked up dust from the dirt floor that sat undisturbed for so long. Beside
the fireplace was a table and chairs, with letters and posters hung on the wall
behind it. In the corner by the doorway was a stash of hunting and survival gear
– traps, snowshoes, and axe. The cabin must have been used as a hunting cabin. Runs
with the Wind rummaged through the shelves at the foot of the bed but didn’t
find much worth taking.
Runs with
the Wind had just been searching for some place to rest for the night until he
could regroup and keep moving forward, but he found much more than that. This
cabin had all the essentials he needed to survive in the Grizzlies: a cabin,
tucked away in the solitude of the mountains, a means to keep warm, and a means
to hunt for food. He thought this place to be as good as any to take refuge for
a while. No one would find him up here just by stumbling upon it.
Runs with the
Wind began to breathe a little easier knowing he would be safe for a while. He
went outside to the back of the cabin and found a small stash of firewood. It
wasn’t much, but it would keep him warm through the night until he could chop
more wood in the morning. He brought the firewood in and lit a fire in the
fireplace. Once the fire was lit, he went out to retrieve the items from his
saddle bags to bring them inside. He hitched his horse along the front of the cabin
to keep him from the wind at least for the night.
Runs with
the Wind carefully placed his belongings on the shelves at the foot of the bed
and grabbed for a bottle of bourbon once he was finished. The fire was providing
much-needed warmth to the cabin, giving the items inside a chance to defrost. It
had been some time since Runs with the Wind had felt the true warmth of a fire.
The stove from the previous night’s stay at the mining camp had been the first time
in months that he had felt warm, but the shack’s dilapidated walls did little
to keep the heat in. When he was held captive, he was never permitted to sit by
the fire at the Wyatts’ camps. The only tools he was given to keep warm was the
raggedy old coat they had given him, which he was surprised to even receive.
But now, with four solid walls around him, the warmth from the fire worked to
fill the room, reaching every corner of the small cabin. As the fire grew Runs
with the Wind could feel his limbs begin to defrost, slowly regaining all their
feelings.
Runs with
the Wind sat by the fire for a long while, mesmerized by the flames dancing about
the logs and the cracking sounds they made. After a while his eyes grew tired,
exhausted from the journey up the mountain. He placed another log on the fire
to last through the night and he crawled into the rickety bed on the opposite
side of the cabin. As he laid there for a moment, he realized that for the
first time in several months, he wasn’t afraid to go to sleep. Before, he had
always been worried that one of Samuel’s men would grow tired of him and kill
him in his sleep. He had feared going to sleep and always tried to fight the
sleep in order to stay alive. Even the night before he had been afraid that
Samuel’s men would catch up to him and kill him before he got the chance to
run. But now, tucked away in the wild mountains of Amabino away from the rest
of the world, he finally felt at ease, that he would be able to sleep
peacefully and not be in constant fear for his life. As he closed his eyes and
drifted off to sleep, he breathed a sigh of relief; now he was finally free at
last.
