Into the Unknown Pt. 2

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.