Lure of the Mountains: The Frontier Life of a Mountain Man

By Wayde Bulow

Lure of the Mountains is about a young man who is fascinated and in awe of the larger than life men of the far mountains. Tragedy strikes his family as they are traveling west and the young man is now free to follow his dreams to become a mountain man. Danger and adventure follow the young man as he struggles to survive when he enters the mountains. As he struggles to survive in the harsh wilderness without being prepared, he luckily befreinds a wounded Indian Warrior and is adopted into the Warrior's tribe. He slowly learns the lessons of survival and is taken in by a mountain man who teaches him to trap and fend for his own. He takes an Indian wife and discovers a love for his family that is as strong as his love for the mountains. They make their home in a high mountain valley, and it's here he enjoys the freedom of the mountains as well as the joy of raising his family.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Mar 17, 2001
• ISBN: 9781469733500

Wayde Bulow

Wayde Bulow was born and raised in Central Wyoming. He enjoys being in the outdoors, being with his family, and writing stories about subjects that interest him.

Book preview

Part 1

Lure of the Mountains

Chapter 1: Sarah

The early morning sun was shinning above the horizon, sending its warm morning light into the valley below. A chill was still in the air and a light frost could be seen on the grass and sagebrush. The valley below was more like a bowl surrounded by rolling hills of grass and sage. A small herd of Antelope was scattered across the bowl. Always cautious a large buck sniffed the air and watched the skyline for signs of danger before again lowering his head to feed. Hidden on top of the ridge was a hunter lying prone with his rifle sights fixed on the buck. His heart was pounding with excitement as he held his breath and took steady aim. He found he couldn’t hold his rifle steady in his excitement. He released his breath and smiling at himself tried to get his excitement calmed down so he could take a steadier aim. The strong smell of sagebrush and grass was all around him as he again took a deep breath and took careful aim. As his rifle sights settled on the back of the antelope buck he thought to himself how beautiful it looked. It was light tan across its back, head, and neck. Its rump was pure white with white across the underside of its belly and chest. Slits of white were across the undersides of its neck and across its head and face. Under its head, where it met its neck was a dark black patch on both sides. The top of its head down across the middle of its face to its nose was colored dark black. Its large horns were solid black and thick as they extended up from its head to a large prong and then curved back to make a graceful hook. As soon as the rifle sights lined up with the top of its back the rifle exploded. The smell of gunpowder and smoke filled the air momentarily and then the hunter saw the Antelope was down, thrashing on the ground.

He quickly jumped up and being excited rushed towards the antelope. The other antelope hearing the shot, bunched together immediately. Seeing the hunter stand and rush down the ridge, they snorted and ran up over the far ridge. The hunter was so excited he almost tripped and fell as he rushed towards the downed buck. This was only his third antelope buck and he got just as excited with each one. At 17 years he was tall and gangly for his age. He stood over 6ft tall and had the hint of powerful shoulders, arms, and legs. He was dressed in clothes that were too small for him. His pants were holey and the pants legs stopped above his ankles. His light coat was old and the sleeves ended way before his wrists. His shirt was made out of a flower sack with string ties down the front. He had blonde hair, thick and shaggy hanging down to the back of his neck. He had a strong face with deep blue eyes.

Excitement was all through his face as he knelt down next to the buck and admired its large black horns. Leaning his rifle on sagebrush, he turned the Antelope over on its back and using his knife, started dressing it out. The smell of the antelope was strong as he cut its throat and removed its entrails. As he removed the liver he remembered the stories he had heard how Mountain men ate them raw. He was hungry and decided to try it. Taking a big bite from the strong tasting liver, he chewed and then swallowed. Not to bad he thought as he took several more bites before returning to his task. It was then he noticed them, sitting on their ponies watching him from the far ridge. He couldn’t tell for sure but it looked like three Indians. He quickly grabbed the rifle with his bloody hands and then remembered he had forgot to reload it! In a panic he quickly started to reload. Fear was welling up inside him, causing him to fumble around and take several times longer to reload than usual.

Three Warriors had heard the rifle shot and approached the top of the ridge carefully watching for danger. They were hunters and were curious about the rifle shot. They knew that over the far ridge was a wagon train of white emigrants. Once on the ridge they saw the young boy kneeling down over the Antelope. They watched him notice them and grab his rifle. If he were farther away from the train they might kill him, take his rifle, scalp, and the Antelope.

He cursed to himself as he finally finished reloading his rifle. Next time he would not be caught with an unloaded rifle he told himself. The riders on the ridge were gone! He warily looked all around and saw no sign of them. Finishing with the Antelope he hurriedly threw it over his shoulder and picking up his rifle headed back towards the wagon train. Feeling foolish and very lucky about getting so excited and letting his guard down, he vowed never to let that happen again.

Once on top of the ridge he could see the wagons lined out down below him. They were already hitched up and looked about ready to move out. The wagons had started moving by the time he carried the Antelope down the ridge. Yelling, and urging animals onward could be heard up and down the length of the train. I was beginning to think you got lost or scalped or something, a man on horseback yelled at him as he rode up. The man was an old timer with gray hair and a long shaggy beard. An old worn felt hat was pulled down tightly on his head. His skin was the color of dark leather from years of being in the outdoors. He wore a buckskin jacket with flannel pants tucked inside tall leather boots. His name was Johnson and he was guiding the wagons across the plains. Mr. Johnson, I saw three Indians over the ridge, the boy exclaimed! Johnson eyed the ridge and told the boy he would pass the word. Everyone is sure going to enjoy the fresh meat, he told the boy, winking at him. But your Uncle is really mad about you not being here again to hitch up his wagon. The boy handed the Antelope to the old timer and he rode away taking the buck to a wagon to keep cool.

The boy knew he would be in trouble for leaving the camp. Mr. Harrison wasn’t his Uncle at all. He wanted the boy to tell everyone he was his Uncle, so it would look better them traveling together. The boys name was Andy Duper. His parents had been dead now for almost a year. They had been killed by a sickness that had spread through the country where they lived. Andy and his twelve-year-old sister were orphans all at once. With nowhere to live, Mr. Harrison and his wife took them in. Mrs. Harrison had never had any children and loved Andy’s sister but wanted nothing to do with Andy. Sarah was Andy’s sister and as long as she was taken care of he could deal with the rest. Mr. Harrison never liked either child but saw an opportunity in Andy to get child labor freely! After all Andy was as big as a man now. He worked Andy brutally on his farm. One day he came home and said they would go out west to make his fortune. He worked Andy like a slave both on the farm and following the trains west! He told Andy he had better stay with them and not complain or it would be hard on his sister, Sarah.

The big wagons were rolling now and Andy looked up and saw Mr. Harrison sitting in the front of his wagon urging his team on. He was a small man with a sharp face much like that of a rat. He glared at Andy and shook his fist at him as he drove the wagon past. Sitting next to him was his wife. She was an older lady with a bonnet pulled tightly over her head. Although not very tall, she was heavy bordering on fat. Andy stood there as the wagon drove by. At the back of the wagon Andy saw his sister

Sitting on the tailgate letting her feet dangle down. She was small for her age with long flowing brown hair. Both of their hearts had been broken when their parents died, but it had been even harder on Sarah! She too had gotten sick, but had gotten better. She never really got over it though, thought Andy to himself. She had been weak and sickly ever since.

Hurry up silly! She said as he sat on the back of the lumbering wagon. Where have you been, she asked? She knew he went hunting before he could even say so. He was always hunting whenever he could. She also knew that if it weren’t for her, Andy would have left the Harrison’s long ago! I saw three Indians, he told her. I want you to Stay in the wagon today! I don’t think there is anything to worry about though, he told her smiling. He didn’t want to scare her. Get your lazy butts off the damn wagon and walk! Mr. Harrison snarled as he glared at them from the front of the wagon. Both Andy and Sarah jumped down and walked behind the wagon.

That evening while Andy was putting up and un-harnessing the horses, Mr. Harrison yelled angrily at him for leaving that morning to go hunting. I don’t care if everyone in this train has fresh meat because of you, he yelled! I would rather have you doing your jobs here than wandering all over! He was mad and he let Andy know it! He better not let it happen again he told Andy shaking his finger at him as he walked away. Andy could smell Antelope steaks cooking all over the camp. It never took long for the

Buck to be divided up for everyone once they stopped for the night. Finishing with the horses, Andy walked back towards the Harrison’s campfire. Mr. Harrison was so mad he wouldn’t let Mrs. Harrison cook any of the Antelope meat. All they had instead was a thin broth like stew.

That night there were more guards posted than usual because of Andy seeing the Indians that morning. Andy left the fire and walked through the camp looking for Johnson. He found Johnson sitting next to his small fire. He had with three chunks of Antelope meat roasting slowly on three sticks over the fire. Where have you been kid, Johnson asked? Your Antelope is almost done. He handed Andy a steaming cup of strong coffee. It will be ready in a few minutes. Andy spent many evenings just like this, setting around Johnson’s small fire and listening to his stories of trapping and the Mountains. Johnson could see in Andy’s eyes the desire and excitement that he felt when he was younger about the mountains and adventure. Johnson knew Andy felt trapped by the Harrison’s because of his sister. Andy eyed the three hunks of

Antelope meat roasting, and asked Johnson who the third one was for? An old friend, Johnson told Andy. He will be by shortly. I saw him today while out scouting for the best way to take the wagons.

Andy stared at the meat roasting over the fire and felt hunger pangs as the wonderful smell of the cooking meat floated in the light breeze. The flames of the fire danced and flickered up towards the meat skewed on the sticks. All Andy heard was the crackling of the fire and then Johnson’s friend was standing before him. He was as tall as Andy, maybe taller. His skin was as dark as any Indians and he was clad from head to toe in fringed buckskins. He held a long rifle cradled in the crook of his arm and had a large knife and hatchet in his belt at his waist. He wore a fur hat made from a Badger skin on his head. The head of the Badger was just above the bill of the hat with the rest of the fur and tail hanging down his broad back. He was a strong man Andy could tell, and one would think he was an Indian except for the long blond hair hanging down his back and long beard stained dark in spots. He had small green eyes, which seemed to look right through Andy. Sit down Badger, Johnson said to his old friend pointing at the ground next to him. The man sat cross-legged next to the fire with the rifle across his lap. Andy, Johnson said: This is Badger, a Mountain Man’s, Mountain Man. Don’t get carried away on what you tell the boy, Badger said in a deep quiet tone. Your all of that and more, Johnson replied; and you know it! Johnson tells me you are a good hunter: and that supper tonight is on you, Badger said as he grabbed a stick and took a bite out of the meat. I just got lucky, Andy exclaimed as he took a stick of meat. Badger leaned over and grabbing a tin cup poured a hot cup of steaming coffee. I found the place where those three Indian Braves sat on their horses and watched you Badger told Andy: You were lucky they never gave you any problem. They were hunters out looking for game and anything else they could find. Which way did they go, Johnson asked? They rode off towards the north, replied Badger: The wagon train was too much for them to mess with. Andy watched Badger as he ate his Antelope meat: He was fascinated with this wild looking man. He noticed that Badger always had his long rifle ready. Where are your horses, Johnson asked Badger? I left them tied back up in a draw, Badger replied. Why don’t you bring them in and stay here tonight, asked Johnson? No thanks, Badger replied: The less I have to deal with these white folks the better I like it. You have been living in the Mountains too long, said Johnson: I figured by now you would have taken an Indian Squaw. I spend all my time trapping, said Badger: I don’t have time for a Squaw. Badger looked at Andy and said Boy whenever you go hunting or wandering in this country, always go loaded and ready for trouble: If you don’t someone will lift your hair or even worse! Andy said he would be careful: and then asked Badger how he got his name? Indians gave it to me, Badger replied: they saw that once I set my mind to something, I never give up! Do you live with the Indians Mr. Badger, Andy asked? Sometimes, Badger told him: as he gnawed on the Antelope meat. Johnson pulled out his pipe and filling it full of tobacco, offered his tobacco pouch to Badger. Badger finished with his Antelope meat and filled his pipe. Both men took an ember from the fire and lit their pipes. Andy loved the smell of the pipe smoke mixed with the smell of the campfire. He sat and listened to the two men talk about old times until he was done eating, and then he said: I had better be getting back. Johnson had never eaten his antelope meat and handed the cooked meat to Andy: and told him to give the meat to Sarah. Andy thanked him and left the fire, returning to the Harrison fire and Sarah.

Sarah wasn’t feeling well and had gone to bed early. As he took the meat to her he could hear her coughing. He tried to get Sarah to eat some of the meat. She was glad to see him as he spread his bedding out next to hers. Andy she told him before falling off to sleep: I miss Ma and Pa terribly. I do too, he said and pulled her covers up around her head. He kissed her forehead and said Good night. That night she coughed a lot and it scared Andy because it was almost like the sickness was coming back!

Andy saw Johnson the next morning after he hitched up the team, and asked him where Badger was. Heck, I don’t know, said Johnson: smiling, He is like the wind, going pretty much where he wants to.

For two weeks they the wagons pushed on, with Sarah getting steadily worse. After dealing with the team, Andy went and got some fresh spring water for Sarah. The last couple of days she hadn’t walked behind the wagon, and had to ride. Even the Harrison’s looked worried. There was a doctor of sorts in the wagon train and he had been seeing Sarah, but still she was no better. Andy brought her a cup of cold spring water and held her head up so she could drink a little. She took one swallow but that was all. She opened her eyes for a second and smiled lovingly at Andy and then closed her eyes again. Johnson checked on Sarah also, but there was nothing he could do. Andy was a wreck! Sarah was all he had left. He wandered around the camp in deep worry. That night when he kissed Sarah on her forehead good night, he sensed she was very bad. He lay next to her that night, only once or twice falling into a light sleep. He could hear her labored breathing until just before dawn. He felt her reach out and take his hand in hers and then the breathing stopped: Sarah was gone! He held her hand tightly in his, as tears streaked down his cheeks. He never wanted to check on her. He hoped he was only dreaming. He found her with a peaceful smile across her face: she had passed away! The grief was almost more than he could bear. They buried her on a grassy knoll in the early morning sunlight. Andy dug the grave and was relieved to have physical labor to take his grief out on. All the people in the wagon train attended the burial. Johnson said a few choice words and then the wagons were moving again.

Andy was terribly grief stricken all day long as he stumbled behind the wagon. That night, he waited until early morning and then took his knife, supplies, some clothes, and his bedroll: As well as a large knife and sheath of Mr. Harrison’s. He took one of Mr. Harrison’s horses and a saddle, after loading his supplies he rode out of the camp. Johnson was on guard duty and Andy stopped and thanked him for all he had done. Tell Mr. Harrison I figure we are even for all the work he has forced me to do. Where are you headed, asked Johnson? I’m headed to the mountains, exclaimed Andy: as he nudged his horse onward.

He rode all that night and most of the following day, before taking the time to eat a couple of old biscuits while watering his horse. He missed his sister and parents dearly, but knew their spirits would be with him always. Well it didn’t look like anyone from the train was following him, he thought to himself. This was wild country he was in and he better start doing what Badger had told him to do. He rode along warily, his rifle across the pommel of his saddle. That night he made a small fire and ate the rest of his biscuits. He let his horse graze some and then tied it up. There was a full moon out and the night sky was filled with stars and lit up. The moon made it light enough to see shadows across the hillside. He could hear coyotes howling and yip- ping just over the ridge from where he was camped. The next morning Andy headed in the direction of a mountain range he could see far off on the horizon. Several times he saw tracks of unshod horses: this made him even more cautious.

After three days of steady riding he was approaching the foothills of the mountains. Cedars and pines were scattered along the tops of the foothills. Earlier that day he had ridden into a bunch of sage chickens. After dismounting, he killed two of them with rocks before they all flew away. He was looking forward to the feast he would have tonight. He had been seeing Antelope and Mule Deer the last couple of days but never wanted to draw attention to himself by trying a shot with his rifle.

Chapter 2: White Wolf

Early that afternoon as he was riding along top of a cedar ridge he noticed a lone horse. He stopped and tied his horse up: taking his rifle, he snuck carefully up on the grazing horse. As he got closer he could see it was an Indian pony and still had the leather rein hanging to the ground. The horse was hurt; it was holding its right front leg up. As he approached it carefully, it tried to limp away but couldn’t go far. He watched cautiously for any signs of Indians, and not finding any, walked up to the horse and grabbed the rein. The eyes of the horse grew large in fear as it smelled him and tried to pull away. He held tightly to the rein and calmed it by talking softly to it. He checked the leg and found it was badly sprained but not broken. He removed the jaw rein and turned the horse loose. Andy continued to watch for danger signs as he walked back and retrieved his horse.

He rode back to where the Indian pony was and decided to backtrack it to find out what had happened. He lost the trail several times as he followed the pony’s tracks through the cedars and up the mountain face. Then he found where the horse according to the tracks, had taken a terrible fall. Right next to the edge of a deep draw it had stepped into a Prairie Dog hole and tumbled down the side of the draw. He dismounted and analyzed the tracks. Then he noticed something else: where a person had dragged themselves by their hands up the draw. He kept his rifle ready and followed the drag marks. Andy never went far until he found an Indian Warrior unconscious in the brush. He carefully approached the Warrior, keeping his rifle trained on him at all times. At first he thought the Warrior was dead. When he pushed the Warrior over on his back, using his rifle barrel: he saw the Warrior wince in pain. The only weapon the Warrior had was a knife and Andy removed that. Then he noticed the problem. The Warriors left leg was badly broken just below the knee. The bone was protruding out of the skin in one spot. Andy mounted his horse and rode on a large circle around the draw looking for other sign. He never found any and returned to the Warrior. He had decided to help the Warrior ifhe could, instead of kill him. He cut two Aspen branches and fashioned two sticks he could use to brace the leg after setting it. He took the Warriors knife and slit the buckskin leggings on his left leg all the way down. He cut the legging off and cut it into two-inch wide strips to use to tie the braces to the leg after setting it. He took water from his canteen, and after building a small fire: warmed it and cleaned the wound where the bone protruded. He had seen his father set the bone like this on a calf once, but the calf never lived. The Warrior regained consciousness long enough to recognize him as a white man. Andy held him down gently, trying to keep him from hurting his leg more. As the Warrior moved his leg, he passed out right away from the pain. Andy knew he had to hurry and set the bone before the leg began to swell more than it already had. It took all of his strength to pull the lower leg back down enough to set it. Once set, he quickly tied the leg to the two braces. He tied up his horse and taking his bedroll placed the Warrior on it and covered him up. The Warrior was feverish and was taking in his sleep. Andy hauled water from a spring he had found at the head of the draw, and sponged the forehead of the Warrior trying to cool his fever. He spitted one of his Sage Chickens over his small fire and using a pan he had taken from the Harrison’s he boiled the other one, making a Chicken broth. Once it was cooked, he de-boned it leaving the meat in the broth. During the night the Warrior asked deliriously for something. Andy gave him water from his canteen, holding his head up to help him drink. Then the Warrior laid back and fell to sleep again.

The Warrior was tall, just under six feet: and was stocky with a powerful build. He was dressed in buckskin leggings and a loincloth. He had on a leather shirt decorated with Elk ivory and beads. He had pitch- black hair that hung down in two long braids. Two Eagle feathers were attached to a silver ornament, which was tied to the hair on the back of his head. On his feet he wore beautifully beaded moccasins. His face had strong features, with eyes black as night. Andy stayed up with him all night. Either he was burning up with fever or was chilled to the bone. Several times Andy noticed the Warrior wake