Looked over Jordan: Land of Promise—Book Iii

By Johnny Sundstrom

LOOKED OVER JORDAN is the final volume of the authors Land of Promise trilogy.

The rapid and ongoing transition of the American West from frontier to settlement is here, embodied in the lives of Abe Saunders and the women he loves. A Confederate veteran, pioneer, and rancher, he is invited to start up and edit a newspaper in a booming frontier town. In this role, he uses the opportunity to advocate for his Indian friends fight to regain their homeland in Eastern Oregon and Idaho. A career in state politics follows, but his growing prominence threatens the relationships he holds most dear. This multifaceted saga explores love, loss, destiny, our connection to the land, and becoming at home in a place.

In the words of one of the next generation of these families, This land we are talking about cannot be owned by any one of us. It is the land of these two families, and it will be for all of us to call home, no matter what the governments papers say or any of the white mans laws have to do with it. What I see is that we are all relatives, all family, and we must trust one another, take care of each other, and honor the grandfathers and grandmothers who made one family out of two families, white and Indian, who made one dream for our generation and for our childrens children. What I want to see is that the memories of our ancestors are honored and respected for as long as we live. Ah ho."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 4, 2017
• ISBN: 9781543467598

Johnny Sundstrom

Johnny Sundstrom is a third-generation westerner and rancher-conservationist who’s been living on his family’s land in Deadwood, Oregon for nearly five decades. During that time, he has seen the collapse of the historic local timber economy, the listing of regionally endangered fish and bird species, and a transformation of the marijuana culture into a legal business model. He graduated from Williams College with a degree in English Literature and has written extensively over the years with seven historical novels previously published and available from the Author at [e-mail], from Xlibris, and from Amazon.

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Copyright © 2017 by Johnny Sundstrom.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2017918014

ISBN:                   Hardcover                  978-1-5434-6757-4

                Softcover                    978-1-5434-6758-1

                            eBook                          978-1-5434-6759-8

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Scriptures mark AKJV is from the Authorized King James Bible of the version, Public Domain

Rev. date: 12/04/2017

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CONTENTS

Prelude

Acknowledgements

Foreword

Brief Synopsis of Book I: For Spacious Skies

Brief Synopsis of Book II: Mine Eyes Have Seen

PART I

Summer 1877 - Winter 1878

Chapter 1 – Rope Justice

Chapter 2 – Stories

Chapter 3 – Return

Chapter 4 – Reunion

PART II

Spring - Summer 1878

Chapter 5 – Preparations for Battle

Chapter 6 – A New Priest

Chapter 7 – Town Plans

Chapter 8 – Escape

PART III

Summer 1881 – Spring 1885

Chapter 9 – A Passing

Chapter 10 – New Businesses

Chapter 11 – Brothers

Chapter 12 – Homecoming

PART IV

Summer 1885 – Summer 1894

Chapter 13 – Politics

Chapter 14 – Candidate?

Chapter 15 – Inheritance

Chapter 16 – Scandal

PART V

Fall 1894 – Spring 1912

Chapter 17 – Arrival and Departure

Chapter 18 – Sickness

Chapter 19 – Change of Heart

Chapter 20 – Transitions

Chapter 21 – Finale

Epitaph Spring 1638 B.C.

Prelude

"I looked over Jordan

And what did I see,

Coming for to carry me home?

A band of angels

Coming for to carry me home.

Swing low, sweet chariot,

Coming for to carry me home.

Swing low, sweet chariot,

Coming for to carry me home."

Traditional Spiritual

This events of this book are set mostly in SE Oregon,

during the period following the so-called Nez Perce War of 1877,

and concluding in the first decade of the 20th Century.

Dedicated to My Son’s and My Own

MAASAI FRIENDS and FAMILIES in KENYA

who have descended from the original cowboys

and whose pastoral culture and traditional

livelihoods, based on their cattle, have

survived for thousands of years on

the savannahs of Eastern Africa.

Truly one of the great models of

what this trilogy is about:

Becoming a People at Home in a Place

Acknowledgements

This novel was written in the aftermath of my son’s tragic hit-and-run death in 2015.

I wish to give deepest gratitude to all of those who have supported our family and me

throughout the ongoing period of grief and healing, and to all those who are

carrying on his life-work and passion in the arenas of collaboration,

community-based conservation, and productivity on his beloved

landscapes of Maasailand and the American West.

Having this book and its story to work on during

this period of my life has been of great help

in the struggle to recover from his loss.

My appreciation for a wonderful grand-daughter, Ziyana,

her mother and father, Danell and Aaron,

and her grandmother, Tchanan,

And for the support and encouragement of

my good friend, Robert Jacobs.

I am also very grateful for the assistance of

Felisa Rogers, a wonderful writer herself,

and my helper in correcting and shaping

the content and language of this book.

(All remaining errors are the responsibility of the author).

Cover Photo: SUNDOGS

donated for this use by Paul Holdorf

Author Photo:

taken by Nickson Parmisa.

Assistant Chief of Athi Maasai

Foreword

In the scriptural records of the three largest monotheistic religions existing the world today, the founding matriarchs and patriarch were Sarai, Hagar, and Abram. Taken together, the stories of their lives and relationships serve as quintessential and originating examples of faith in a single Deity. Their beliefs, doubts, struggles, and loves are at the foundation and core of each of these denominations’ emergence and longevity, their similarities, and their conflicts. As a source of multiple traditions, these individuals are regarded as both sacred and historically significant, and have attained and exercised a unique influence and power all their own over historical as well as contemporary world affairs.

In this trilogy of novels, I have transposed their narrative from ancient times to the period just following our country’s War Between the States, and based it on the great westward waves of migrant people crossing this continent in search of improved lives for themselves and their descendants. It is a tale of conquest and settlement, even as it is a tribute to the native peoples of this land as they were displaced, but have refused to disappear.

I have attempted to find ways to echo not only the original scriptural story’s importance as traditions, but also to demonstrate its plausibility as an essentially human and secular saga by accepting the challenge to place it in a time and locations far removed from its origins. If I have fallen short in my effort to demonstrate its relevance and timelessness, I am not embarrassed for having tried. If in the reader’s estimation I have either failed or succeeded, you are invited to let me know your thoughts -- [e-mail]

Thank you for your attention, Johnny

For reference, I have used as my guide the King James version of Genesis 12:1 - 25:10.

Brief Synopsis of Book I: For Spacious Skies

Abe Saunders was wounded in 1865, in one of the last battles of the War Between the States. The first Book of this Trilogy recounts his healing, marriage, and an overland wagon journey during the last great wave of pioneering westward migrations. Here were the constant struggles faced in overcoming nature’s challenges, the sometimes violent human tensions encountered along the way, and the heartfelt aspirations for a new life of settlement among the Indians, ranchers, and miners of the still-untamed frontier. Abe and his wife, Sarah Beth, leave behind everything familiar they have ever known except one another. Crossing the continent on the Oregon Trail, they find privacy to be at a premium, and conflict and hardship the norm. Their new marriage and love is often tested, and although Sarah has a deep desire to be bearing a child by the time they settle in their new homeland, they are unsuccessful in this aspect of their lives together. Greatly helped by some individuals and challenged by the hostility of others, joined some of the time by Abe’s adventurous cousin, and seeking the promise of their own land in a place called Jordan Valley, they finally arrive at the end of their own Trail to begin their new life.

They become acquainted with an offshoot of the Indian tribe located some distance to the north of where they end up, and are given a place to stay and allowed to build a home. Hawk Man and his relatives need a white man they can trust to occupy that place according to the laws of the USA so they can continue to use it for their summer camping and hunting without having those rights taken away. Assisted by their mixed-breed friend Lefty, the newcomers make friends and begin to share on the land which is located beyond the edge of any other settlement the area. During their long journey, they were joined by a young woman, Helga, who has run away from a group that tried to harm Abe and Sarah Beth, and she quickly becomes a part of their small family. Their relationship with the Indian neighbors becomes more complicated, and the only apparent resolution results in changing both roles and possibilities for the three of them.

Book II begins at this point.

Brief Synopsis of Book II: Mine Eyes Have Seen

Book II opens with Helga’s pregnancy, and Abe’s attempt to adjust to a difficult new reality. As this brings new tensions to the small family, Sarah Beth is somewhat stunned by the unexpected results of her proposal that the other two have a relationship in order to conceive the child she can’t seem to have, but so desperately wants. In response, she takes on a traditional ordeal and medicines offered by Lefty’s step-mother, Moon Fish, a white woman raised by Indians. Hopeful that this process will help her to finally become pregnant, she accepts a change of her name to Sa-rah.

As their home-building and settling into this new landscape continues, the three of them face up to the challenges of fitting together their futures as best they can. Their nearest white neighbors, the Skinner couple, prove to be extremely appreciative of these new arrivals, and are especially helpful in many ways. While working on a water supply system, Martha Skinner’s visiting brother and Abe make a strange and fortuitous discovery on the ridge above the new house. The hardships of their first winter pass by, and then a warm spell brings both hope and the birth of Helga’s new baby, a boy she calls Indigo.

Finally, there comes a pregnancy and birth for Sa-rah and Abe. They name the baby boy Isaiah and their small family seems to be completing itself. Abe receives a letter from his Cousin Louis asking for help in the form of a rescue visit. He’d been serving as a lawman in the New Mexican Territory, and was now in prison for his own protection from some wealthy and powerful enemies he’d made. Abe feels obligated to his only known living relative, and makes the journey, encountering several surprises along the way. While he is gone, tensions heighten between the two women resulting in Sa-rah demanding that Helga and her son leave at once. The younger woman does leave, travelling north with Lefty, and Carl, one of the neighboring Indians, who’d stopped by on their own journey. Abe returns and is stunned by what happened between the two women in his absence, but doesn’t know what, if anything, he can do about it.

Lefty has taken Helga to stay with his people among relatives she already knows, Mary Wolf, and Hawk Man’s family. She is lonely for Abe and for Moon Fish who stayed back on the ranch. At the Tribe’s winter camp, she is given a small tipi for herself and Indigo to live in, and some help preparing for winter.

It has become apparent that the ongoing hostilities between the white settlers and the Indians will no longer allow the free travel back and forth of the large Indian family whose camping grounds are part of the property arrangement with Abe and Sa-rah. Concerns over these controversial matters take Abe on a trip to Boise to seek some legal assurance that they can occupy and/or own that land. He also brings Moon Fish along with him to help her return to her relatives.

He is able to successfully complete a deal with the government granting him ownership of the land, and then goes on to visit the Lapwai reservation where Helga and their son, Indigo, are staying. They are being taken care of by some of the People, and by Carl, Hawk Man’s son. While in the village, Abe encounters hostility as an outsider intruding on some of the young braves’ desire for revenge on white people. Lefty helps him escape the potential danger, and he leaves Helga and Indigo behind, returning to a Sa-rah now pregnant for the second time.

The next winter was very hard on the families and the livestock, but as the days lengthened and the hardships of weather and isolation passed, Sa-rah delivers a new baby girl they name DoraLee. Carl provides needed care for Helga and Indigo to survive the winter in the northern camp, and they end up sharing the same fire and tipi for warmth and companionship. With Springtime comes more tension and conflict between the settlers and the younger Indian militants, and incidents begin to occur that push both sides to violence. Along with the change in the weather, open hostilities and Army-issued orders prove unacceptable to those now being referred to as non-treaty Indians.

What came to be called The Flight of the Nez Perce ensued, as over seven hundred of the People fled east to evade pursuing military forces. Skirmishes and battles occur and somehow the large group of Indians, warriors with families of women, children, and the elderly, evade or outmaneuver the pursuing Army troops until they almost reach freedom in Canada, before having to surrender to exhaustion and early-onset winter.

Helga and Moon Fish are sent back alone to Montana to protect them from being found in the company of these Indians, and they struggle to make their way back to Abe and Sa-rah. This book concludes with the disappearance of the young Isaiah under mysterious circumstances.

This is where Book III begins.

PART I

Summer 1877 - Winter 1878

CHAPTER 1

Rope Justice

It was late, very late in the night when Abe returned from searching for Isaiah with nothing to show for it. Sa-rah was dozing in her chair with DoraLee sleeping on her lap. She stirred, sat up quickly, and looked for a sign from her husband that anything had changed. Abe leaned his rifle against the wall and pulled off his coat.

Nothing, he said, slumping to his knees in front of her, nothing, nothing, nothing.

We can’t give up. Maybe you could stay with the baby and I’ll go look some more.

Where? I’ve been everywhere. I don’t think he’s here. Must have been taken away.

But tomorrow is when they said they must have the money, or he’ll… She stifled a gasp, but then her sobbing burst forth.

I’ll wait where he said to put the money. Maybe he’ll show himself.

But if he has Isaiah with him, there’s nothing you could do. He’d hurt our son. I know he would. He’s evil.

I don’t know what else to do. He stood and went to the kitchen for water.

When he came back in he looked down, saying, We must pray. It’s all we have left. He got down on his knees and took her hands in his. The baby was between them, now sleeping in the nest between their arms.

You? he asked.

No. I can’t think about God right now. Please, you can pray for all of us.

I’ll try, he said. There was a long pause, and the only sound was little DoraLee’s breathing. Our dear Heavenly Father, and our blessed Mother the Earth, we come to you as children of this place, your children, asking the spirits of this place to help us in our hour of need. The pain in our hearts grows moment by moment. We ask you who are above and below us for help. This land is not ours. It is the homeland of a proud people who have been here for centuries. I am praying to the Creator who watches over our Indian relatives even as they are now fighting and fleeing for their lives, driven out of their homelands by the invaders of this land. He stopped and cleared his throat, thinking that this one child meant everything to him and Sa-rah, but how many hundreds of Indian children had been run down and killed in the army’s conquest of the native people? I pray for them and for those of our own family who are with them, even now in so much danger if they are even still… He stopped. But above all, right now I beg you to save our son from harm, bring him home to us and help us to be safe in this land you showed us to. And if in your wisdom and plan we will have to sacrifice…no I don’t mean that…Amen. He leaned forward and gently kissed the baby’s head. I can’t go on, he said. It won’t do any good. I need to sleep for an hour and be ready to go out as soon as it’s light enough. I can’t give up now.

He stood and placed his hands on Sa-rah’s head, fighting back the tears of despair that were filling his eyes and beginning to fall down his cheeks. She took his hand in hers and held it tightly. If only he didn’t suffer, she said quietly.

No. He must be alive.

A few hours later Abe was wakened by the dog barking. He struggled to think. He was lying on the couch, still dressed, and Happy seemed to be going crazy. Now he remembered—the boy was missing, and who could be here in the yard? He hadn’t meant to sleep into the dawn, but here it was first light. He grabbed his boots and rifle, looked out the window, but saw nothing. Easing the door open, he slid out to the porch, ducking down so as not to be a target.

Just then he heard a scream. A child’s voice desperately loud and repeating. He leapt down the steps and ran toward the sound. The dog was pawing at a small form on the ground.

Isaiah, how did you get here? Oh, my boy, my boy. He gathered the child into his arms, leaving the rifle behind and running toward the house. Sa-rah, Sa-rah, he’s here, he’s here! He pushed through the doorway and knelt to the side of the couch, moving as gently as possible, now letting the boy slowly slide from his arm to the cushions.

Papa, Papa, Papa, I, home. Am I home? Where, Papa, where?

Sa-rah came toward them and collapsed to her knees, trying to gather the boy into her arms. He screamed and she quickly pulled away. Arms! he said. Arms hurt!

I’ll get the lamp, Abe said and quickly returned with the light.

Sa-rah covered her mouth with her hand, while Abe stood still and just looked down on the terrible sight of their son’s burned arms and torn clothing. Now the boy was crying in great heaving gasps, holding his arms out to them, saying, Fire, fire.

This is bad, but I’ve seen worse. We have to clean this up, Abe said, heading into the kitchen. He brought back a pair of scissors and a kind of scraper and knelt beside Sa-rah. You’ll have to hold on to him while I work. It’s the only way to keep away the infection, the gangrene. I saw men like this in the War.

Sa-rah pushed herself around so she could move Isaiah into her lap and wrap her arms around his shoulders. Hurry, she said.

Abe cut away the burnt clothing fragments, and then began carefully picking at the charred skin and scraping at the raw spots as he went. Isaiah screamed and screamed, and kicked at his father. Sa-rah held the boy’s legs immobile and Abe went on doing what he had to do.

Now the baby was also awake and crying loudly. She’ll just have to wait, her mother said softly.

The boy’s body twisted in spasms and it took all his parents’ strength to hold him still so Abe could finish cleaning the burns. If only he would pass out, he mumbled, knowing this couldn’t happen with that much pain.

What will you need to wrap them in?

The softest and cleanest you have. And something that won’t stick to him. What have you got, and where? he asked.

Martha gave us a blanket for when DoraLee was born. It’s soft and smooth.

Where?

In the trunk behind the door. But I was saving it.

This is a good thing to save it for. Hold him. He hurried to the bedroom.

Bring me the baby. Sa-rah said. Doralee was still crying loudly. Isaiah had quieted some and was now just whimpering and breathing hard.

Abe laid the baby down on the couch next to Sa-rah. Be careful he doesn’t thrash around and hit her, he said as he cut the blanket into strips. I’ll have to go outside to get some big smooth leaves. I’ll be right back.

Sa-rah was left alone with the two children, and now she was fighting back tears of her own. It was terrible and she still didn’t know how the boy was burned. She could only imagine some terrible kind of torture had gone on while he was captive. He was relaxing somewhat, more than likely from exhaustion. He reached out with one hand to soothe the baby, and screamed again.

Abe came back with cabbage leaves. He pulled the leaves from their stems and told her to hang on to the boy because this was going to hurt him. He wrapped leaves around one burnt arm and bound it with a strip of cloth, then did the same with the other arm. By now the boy was so exhausted that he could barely struggle, and it was clear that he’d slipped into shock from the combination of pain and exhaustion. DoraLee seemed to have a sense of what was going on and was quiet.

Isaiah shook his head back and forth several times and then said, I had to burn myself.

His mother asked him what he meant, but he seemed to be losing consciousness and Abe said they’d better let him go to sleep if he could. He’s had enough.

But I want to know how this happened, Sa-rah whispered.

Abe gently moved the boy from her lap so she could get up. She picked up the baby, quickly taking the little girl to her breast. Abe stood too and raised his arms over his head, shaking out his cramped fingers, and bending down, stretching, and then standing again.

It’ll be daylight soon. I’m going out to take care of the horses. He bent over and kissed the top Sa-rah’s head, and then said, And give my thanks for this miracle. I won’t be long.

A few minutes later Sa-rah heard him riding away, but he soon he returned.

Where’d you go?

Just to see if there was anything unusual where the note said to put the money. He patted the gun at his hip and then removed his holster. I was careful, but didn’t see anything. I might go back later, but I don’t think that outlaw is still around here now. I’m going to make some coffee. You want water heated for tea?

No, I’ll get it soon. They’ll both be asleep. Did you give thanks?

Not really, not yet. Maybe when we find out what happened.

Well, I hope you can still give thanks for this wife of yours even if I don’t deserve it.

Of course, I will. Why do you say that?

This is all because of me and how I treated Helga and your other son.

Abe stopped in the doorway to the kitchen and turned to face her. Sa-rah, my precious wife, this has nothing to do with you. It was Ollie giving away our secret and this evil man who has tried to hurt us before. I love you and won’t let you think or talk like that again. Please.

Sa-rah put DoraLee down at the other end of the couch from where the boy was restlessly sleeping, breathing hard, but no longer struggling. She stepped over to Abe and reached up to take his head in her hands and bring his face to hers. She kissed him softly several times.

You have always been too forgiving, she whispered. Of me and everyone else. And I do love you very much.

He returned her kisses and then said, I won’t forgive the one who did this to our son.

Fire’s out, she said.

I’ll get it. You just sit and rest.

Abe forced himself to stay awake and he was still doing chores when he heard Sa-rah calling him.

Abe, he’s awake.

He hurried to the house. Sa-rah was sitting by Isaiah with a cup of tea and holding it for him to drink from. She looked up at Abe and said, It’s some of that soothing tea Mattie gave me. I just hope it can ease the p-a-i-n for him.

Hello, son. I’m glad you’re back now. We were worried. When you’re ready maybe you can tell us what happened to you.

Papa, was bad man, was bad. He started to catch his breath.

It’s all right. You don’t have to say anything or think about it now. Just drink your tea and then maybe you can sleep some more.

He tie my hands, feet. He drink all bottle, kind Ollie drink. I smell. He sing, kick me, make fire. Fall down. Sleep. Come dark. Fire not big, but I move, get hands near fire. He sat up and tried to put his hands behind himself, but it hurt him and he cried out.

That’s all right. You shouldn’t move, his mother said, helping him to lie down again.

I burn rope. He held out his bandaged hands. Hurt, hurt. I try to quiet. Not cry. Burn hands and rope. Hurt bad. Untie rope on feet. Man wake up and I run. He fall, yell, fall. I go in creek and hide in water. All dark. Now he did start crying and DoraLee woke up at the same and she was also crying. Sa-rah picked her up and began nursing.

Take it easy son. You can rest now. Just one more thing. Where? Do you know where you were?

Big tree on road. Up the hill. Up, up, up…Can I eat?

Of course, Sa-rah said. What would you like?

Apple pie, the boy said, sniffling.

Abe was already getting set to go out again, but he stopped and laughed. Do we have any apple pie Mama? he asked Sa-rah.

No, but I have dried fruit I can make into a pie for later. How about some mush with berries and milk from Martha’s cow?

Good, Mama, but what make it not hurt?

We’ll see. Let me put your sister in her little chair and I’ll get this for you now. I’ll have to feed you, too.

I’m going looking, see what I can find. I won’t be gone long. Abe grabbed his rifle and went out before she could say anything. In a matter of minutes they heard him galloping away.

Lefty was shot at twice after leaving Joseph and the People. Each time it was a chance encounter with a group of settlers who seemed to be out protecting their towns or ranches. He was forced to avoid roads. It seemed these small bands of whites didn’t even need to be sure he was an Indian—the way he was dressed, he could easily be mistaken for a white man from a distance. It seemed that these folks were frightened and ready for anything, even if they didn’t know what it was.

At first, he was trying to get back to the reservation north of Boise. He hoped some of the treaty folks would still be there, but the chances seemed pretty slim. One of Joseph’s horses had come up lame, and he’d left it behind with a small herd he’d found at the edge of a valley. Now he was riding one horse and leading the other with a small pack. That animal refused the pack, as if it were some kind of insult to a war pony; but after a few wrestling matches, Lefty succeeded in getting the horse accustomed to both jobs, carrying either the pack or himself.

One night when the moon was nearly full, he was sitting near a very small fire roasting a bird he’d killed when he remembered something important. His friend Abe had been working for a newspaper when they’d first met back in Independence. Perhaps this could be a way of making good on Joseph’s request. The chief had sent him away as things were coming to some kind of an end for the People. The cold weather was on its way, and the army was gaining strength and numbers. Joseph had confided that he was ready to stop fighting and do whatever it took to make an arrangement with the white leaders that would save his women, children and old folks. He still had hopes of making it across the border into Grandmother’s Land, but every day that seemed less possible.

Joseph had called Lefty in to meet with him and had given him a task—escape the route they were on, avoid the army, and get back to where he could use his white-man language to tell the People’s story, how they were no longer able to resist.

Tell the whites that they have won the war, but they may have lost their spirits.

Lefty had objected, saying that he wouldn’t know how to do this, or who to tell this story to. The chief told him that there was no one else who could do it, no one else who’d been through the hardships of the trail and the battles along the way. Tell the truth, my friend, he said. Someone will listen. They must hear what they have done to us.

Now, remembering his white friend, he was feeling better for the first time since he’d left his family with Joseph. Abe would have an answer or at least an idea, some kind of plan that would help him, help the People. That night he slept better than he had for months and awoke at the first light of dawn, ready to travel in a different direction now, changing his direction to head for Hawk Man’s camp and Abe’s home.

Three days later he knew he was getting close, although he had never before travelled through this part of the country. His main problem was going to be crossing the big river without using a ferry. Fortunately, fall was the low water time for the river, and he was hopeful he could find a place to swim the horses, while staying out of sight of whites who wouldn’t hesitate to shoot or capture a lone Indian. He finally came to a place where the river was wide and slow, where the sandy bottom made islands in the water. He rode the bank above and below. He found no settlement or even any sign of humans, and made a quick camp in the woods, where he slept while waiting for moonrise.

Within a couple of hours, the angle of the crescent moon coming up from behind the trees cast its light on the water and the reflection seemed to offer a pathway across the water. He packed up and led the animals down to the edge of the river. They were almost halfway across when he heard a scream from the bank where he was heading. He held the horses back and waited. He could hear the sound of coyotes, several of them, directly ahead of him. They must have killed something and were now tearing into it. When he tried to head downstream, the water quickly became deeper and faster and the pack horse lost his footing. The animal fought the lead rope, trying to free himself and go back the way they’d come. Lefty spun his mount around, finding solid ground alongside the thrashing pack-horse. He quickly slipped another rope around the pack horse’s neck and pulled himself through the water and up onto its back with the pack. He kept hold of the other horse’s rein and slapped, kicked and yelled at them to move.

Now the coyotes were quiet, probably startled by the commotion from the water. Lefty pulled the rifle out of its scabbard on the saddled horse and held the gun in one hand. He remembered a song his grandfather taught him years before, showing him how to use the words and the sound of a wolf growling deep in his throat. The old man had told the boy that the only thing coyotes were afraid of was an angry-sounding wolf. The moment the horse’s feet reached the sandy shore, Lefty began the song and the growling, and immediately he could see the coyotes slinking away in the faint light.

Thank you, Grandfather, he said.

He stopped long enough to cut meat from the deer carcass and wrap the pieces in a scrap of old blanket he carried in his saddlebag. Then he headed upriver where the vegetation was less dense. As soon as possible, he pushed off through the woodland until he found a small clearing on high ground. He tied the pack horse and circled the area, looking for sign of humans. He did find an old wagon wheel, but the wood was rotten and the metal rusted. It looked like it had been there a long time. Perhaps the clearing had been part of a road at some time, but there was no other trace of use now. He hobbled the horses and unloaded a few things, started a small fire with dry sticks so it wouldn’t give off smoke, and settled down to spend the daylight hours hidden in that spot.

After cooking pieces of the deer on sticks leaned over the coals, he ate, and was ready for sleep. He checked the horses one more time, bent down to the small creek running nearby and drank as much water as he could. That would help him wake up in a short while. He filled his small pipe, offered it to the directions, smoked a little, and put it away. He laid his rifle beside him, and covered his eyes with a scarf.

In spite of the coming daylight, he soon fell into a restless nap. When he awoke he could remember a dream in which his white woman mother, Moon Fish, was dressed in city clothing and dancing in the ballroom of a large hotel or something like that. He remembered looking for Helga and her boy, but didn’t find them. The older woman waved at him and kept on dancing with an older man wearing the uniform of the army. As he lay there coming to full wakefulness, he realized that she’d sent him a dream message that she was all right and had no problems with the pursuing military while escaping.

Three days later after a frosty night spent in some low-lying mountains, he was relieved to come to the top of a ridge overlooking a valley he recognized as the headwaters of the river flowing through Silver City. It was time to make a lengthy detour around the settled area and work his way to Abe’s place. He wished he could make a quick trip into town for some coffee, the one thing he’d been missing for the many months they’d been on the run from the army. It was tempting, but hardly worth the risk. Hopefully Sa-rah would have coffee for him when he arrived.

It was nightfall when he arrived, and at first he didn’t think anyone was at the house of his friends. The newly repaired road had made the final stage of the trip much easier and he was pleased to look around and see the improvements that were taking place. He heard a door close on the other side of the house and then saw a person edging along a wall toward him with a rifle held ready.

Big Bear Man, he called out and slid off the horse.

Abe lowered the gun and ran toward his friend. My God, is it you? Never thought I’d see you again. How did you? Where did you? Sa-rah, come out, it’s all right. He reached out and grabbed his friend’s arm.

Lefty smiled and said slowly, Glad you’re here, my friend-brother.

Sa-rah came out onto the porch holding DoraLee. Isaiah was hiding behind her skirt. Oh my, it is you. Oh, I’m so relieved! Where are the others? Come in.

We’ll put his horses up and come in. Best set another place at the table. He’s looking pretty famished.

When they were all back in the house and ready to settle into supper, Lefty quietly asked Sa-rah if she could spare any of the black medicine called coffee. He apologized for asking, but said it had been a long time, and he thought he smelled some of it when he came into the house.

Of course, she said, and you don’t need to be sorry. I’ll just heat up what’s in the pot.

Don’t even have to be hot, he smiled. Then he noticed the wrappings on Isaiah’s arms and looked over at Abe with concern on his face. What?

It’s going to be all right, but I’d rather wait until later to talk about it…Isaiah, tell him about your new horse, tell him about Copper.

The boy was shy and stayed right near his father’s knee, but he did tell Lefty that he had a good horse and could ride by himself now.

Sa-rah was back with the baby in one arm and a cup of coffee in the other hand. She set DoraLee on Abe’s lap, handed the coffee to Lefty, and went back toward the kitchen, stopping to say, It was easy to heat up. Hope it tastes all right.

Won’t matter after all this time, the man said.

So how did you get here? Abe asked.

Hard ride. Had to stay away from white people all the way. They’re like angry stinging flies. All crazy.

All this recent fighting has got everyone stirred up. It’s not a good time for anyone, but I’m sure it’s much worse for the Indians.

We will talk. I will tell you about all that. And we must find way to say that story. I come to have you help tell that story of what has happened to my people.

Sa-rah came into the room with a steaming bowl of stew and said, We can eat now.

Abe asked Lefty to bless the food for them. He cleared his throat and held his hands out in front of himself, both palms facing up. Grandfather, Grandmother, this is home for me tonight. You blessed my travels. Thank you. Ho. I am a pitiful man asking you to look down on my People and take care of each one, body, mind, spirit…We are having a hard time, Grandfather. Tonight I have home here with my friends, but my People have no home. Cold, hungry, hurt. Bless my People and my mother and this family’s young woman and her son. Take care of these ones here on this land, bless and take care of them. Thank you Grandmother for the food we eat now and the woman who cooks for us. Ho, to all my relatives. He turned his hands down and smiled at his friends, saying, Thank you for being here, taking care of this home and this land.

Thank you, Abe said, for everything you have helped us to have, this home, land, and your friendship. Thank you for all of this. He ladled out stew and passed bowls around.

They ate in near silence, with each person filled with questions, but politely waiting for the chance to ask them. When they were finished with the food, Sa-rah cleared it away and brought in a custard with berries on top. She dished it into bowls and passed around fresh molasses cookies.

This is a night for treats, to celebrate she said. More coffee, Mr. Lefty?

Thank you, yes.

When they finished and the clutter cleared away and cleaned up, they moved out to the porch and sat in the coolness of the evening. Sa-rah wrapped a blanket around herself and the two children while Lefty and Abe smoked from the man’s pipe.

I have to ask, she said. What about Helga? Is she all right? And our boy?

Lefty’s face was partly hidden in the shadows cast by the oil lamp on the shelf behind them. He looked straight at her and said, She is a very brave young woman. My people call her Brave Knife. She has saved herself and others more than once. But we send her away from the people. Her and my mother Moon Fish, both white women, dressed as white women. I think they are all right now. They will find help and be in some town. You will hear from them. I am sure of this. It was getting too hard for my old mother, many old ones dying on the trail. I am also sent away, to tell the story of the bad things the army and whites have done to us. Chief wants me to tell the story. I don’t know how. He says you have white man words. Tell them, tell the whites we only want our land to live in our own way. Abe, my friend, I know you can help me do this. Spirits tell me to come to you for help. Maybe I can help you also for something you need. He was quiet for a long moment.

But you have no idea where they are? Sa-rah asked. I’m so worried for them.

They will be taken care of. Only nights ago, my mother come in dream to show me she is well and safe. In my dream she was dancing, white woman kind of dancing.

I will dream for them if I can, Sa-rah said. It has been long time since I have had one of those dreams that you told me I can have. I will try, for them. Now, I should put the children to bed. It’s getting cold these nights—maybe we’ll have first frost. She gathered up the baby, and nodded to Abe, who got up and gently lifted the sleeping Isaiah in his arms. They went inside.

Lefty stayed on the porch and smoked his pipe. He was singing when Abe returned and sat quietly in the chair beside him.

They were quiet for a while, then Lefty said, Tell me, my friend. The boy—is he hurt bad?

I think he’ll be all right. It’s been hard, but he is strong and also brave. How is his brother Indigo?

Very strong. Already hunter and trapper of small animals. Hair red like setting sun. My people call him the Red White Man. He laughed as he put away his pipe. Red for his hair, not his skin. You be proud when you see him. I am sure they come this way when they can. But this boy, how is he hurt? You must tell me.

He was out riding his horse, not far away. A man took him away from us. Wanted gold. This man took Isaiah and threw a note at our house. You remember Mattie, our colored woman. She was Ollie’s woman, and when she died, he drank even more. Must have told this man something he shouldn’t have. He must have come after what he thought he could get. Also, this man is the same one Helga shot in the leg when I had to kill his partner. Remember when they tried to burn down our house and take this land away from us and from Hawk Man and the rest of you? Mary Wolf and Carl helped us that day. Same man.

Lefty stood up and said, I get my coat, see if horses are all right. Abe started to follow, but Lefty waved him off. When Lefty returned he was carrying a rifle in two pieces, one in each hand.

For you, my friend, good gun. I found it on battlefield. Took it from a dead soldier’s hands. New gun, new kind of gun for the army. He held it out to Abe and then sat back in his chair.

Thank you, but I probably better not let anyone see it. They’ll think I stole it.

Lefty smiled, You can be far from anyone you have to shoot with this one. Shoot long and straight. Good one. Now more what happened to the boy?

He was tied up, hands behind. The outlaw got drunk and passed out, and Isaiah was able to stir up the fire and burn through the ropes that held his hands. He burned his arms pretty bad, but he escaped and came home.

You find the man?

No. Sa-rah and I had to clean and scrape his arms, but he was in so much pain he couldn’t tell us anything that night. I went looking, but didn’t know where to look. When he could tell me where he’d been held captive, I found it. I was very careful, but no one was there, and I had no idea where or how to follow the one who hurt my son. If I had found him…

I know how you feel. So many of my people have been killed now. But this one we will find. I will find him, for you. Two times he hurt you. I can find him. Show me in the morning early. I’m going to sleep now. He smiled and slapped Abe’s arm. Maybe dream about the dancing Moon Fish. Or maybe your young woman and son. I sleep with horses.

They stood up and Abe placed his hands on Lefty’s shoulders. You are always on time to help, my friend, you and Bird, the horse you gave me.

We do that for one another, brothers. Think how you can help me tell the story. Goodnight.

After breakfast the next day, Lefty had Abe take him to the camp where Isaiah was held captive. Abe said the only thing different was that it now looked as though a large animal had dug around looking for a free meal.

Lefty looked skyward and spoke softly. After a pause, he said, I thank spirits for coming here and cleaning up from this bad man. Now it will be easier for me to know where he has gone, to follow him.

Abe watched as his friend found pieces of broken whiskey bottle and kicked them into the fire pit. Then he knelt down and picked up one piece of burnt rope, and then another.

The rope! Abe exclaimed.

Yes. Here you take one. I need the other. This man isn’t careful. It will be easy to find him. What he look like?

From my memory, he was very white-skinned, and I thought he looked like a snake.

Good to know. I look for white snake. Lefty smiled. What you want me do with him when I find him?

I don’t know. Part of me wants him dead, and I think about how I had the chance that first time. If he goes to jail, he might get out and come back again. That’s what I don’t want.

I thought so, Lefty said as he turned and walked into the nearby brush. Here’s where he tied his horse. Abe joined him and Lefty pointed to the ground and a clear hoof-print at the edge of a scuffed-up area. One shoe have piece gone. I follow. You wait at your home. I come back, may be one day, two. More. You think of how to tell our story of the war against my people.

Abe stopped him as he was going to his horse. You sure you don’t want me along?

Better alone. One man—no one will see me. And you must stay with family, in case he comes back.

All right, my friend. Be careful.

No one will see me, Lefty said as he swung up into his saddle and rode off, his eyes to the ground where the horse’s trail led away from the small clearing.

Abe remained there for a while, trying to imagine how frightened Isaiah must have been, and at the same time, how brave and desperate to burn himself to get free. He knelt down beside the fire pit and picked up a small piece of the whiskey bottle. This piece had no sharp points, so he cleaned it off and put it in his shirt pocket. This is what saved my son, he thought. He bowed his head and gave thanks for these things, his son’s freedom and courage, and the whiskey God used to make it possible for Isaiah to escape. He also thought about the unexpected arrival of Lefty at this time, and what might happen to the outlaw to end this terror he’d brought on Abe and his family. When he’d finished his prayer, he remembered Ollie and added a few thoughts about the man and his trials. He asked to be able to forgive him and to find ways to help him be healed from Mattie’s loss and his own broken body. Then he mounted his horse Rain and rode slowly back toward the house. Now it would be good to be with his family. He needed to be thinking how he could help Lefty and his people, telling their story. Who could he tell it to? How to repay this great friend?

Lefty followed the trail up into the surrounding hills. The man had not attempted to hide his tracks, although sometimes Lefty would come to a rocky place and lose him for a moment. Then he’d circle around until he found the trail again. It was still not yet dark when he got close enough to look down on a small settlement with a post office, a store, a house and a barn. It wasn’t clear if the man had gone into this village or around it. Since it was getting dark with no moon, Lefty backtracked to an outcropping that would provide shelter and perhaps even hide a late fire.

He fixed a meal from the food Sa-rah had given him, and took a short nap. When the last light below him was extinguished, he checked the horse and moved quietly down the least rocky path, which he’d picked out earlier. This was the time that he would need to use his best cunning and the special sense he always felt when he thought hard about being invisible. In Indian language this roughly translated as ‘not-be-seen.’ It was something else he’d learned from his grandfather, who’d told him: if you know that they cannot see you, they cannot. But you must be very strong in your believing, or you will be seen if they are looking. Use this power carefully, use only with enemies. Bless you, grandson.

When Lefty reached the wide pathway between two buildings, he could see well enough in the darkness to find the corral where several horses were standing quietly. This was the hardest part, how to check their hooves without startling them. He made the soft sounds of a horse falling asleep, fluttering his lips and giving out a low groan. One of the animals stomped its foot, but that was the extent of their reaction as he crawled through the pole fence.

On hands and knees he crept up to the nearest animal, made a few more low sounds and felt with his fingertips around the edge of the hooves where the metal shoes were attached. This one had no flaw in the iron, so he moved on to the next. This horse took several steps away from him, but froze when it bumped the railings. There were two more horses, and Lefty was hoping he would not have to go through this with all of them. On the second front hoof, he felt the tell-tale gap in the shoe. He ran his hand up and down the horse’s leg to keep it calm and then quickly moved away.

He didn’t go far before he stooped down and grabbed up a handful of gravel at the side of the roadway. He looked to see his return path in the dimness of the night, and then threw the rocks and another handful into the corral. The horses reacted by whinnying and trotting around the enclosure. He threw one more handful, this time with bigger rocks, and then he silently ran to the base of the hill and started climbing. He looked back once and saw a lamp come on in the store. There must be someone living there, or staying overnight. Perhaps it was the one he was after.

He heard a voice yelling at the horses, and then he was deep in the underbrush and could no longer see buildings or lights below. He was breathing hard when he reached his camp. He paused to catch his breath and then climbed more slowly up to the small tree where his own horse was tied. He stroked the animal’s neck and said, Glad you no talk to them other ones.

He slept for a short time and was awake before dawn. He moved to a vantage where he could see the buildings below. Now it was just a question of waiting for something to happen. Either the outlaw would come out and ride away, or he would be staying on at this place. Lefty moved higher among the rocks until he had a better vantage point and settled himself to wait, thinking, strange how a man thinks about coffee the most when he doesn’t have any.

The sun was above the opposite ridge when he saw the first sign of movement down below. Someone came outside and emptied a pot of liquid across the ground. Lefty couldn’t see well enough to identify anything in particular, but at least now he knew someone was awake. It wasn’t much longer before maybe the same person came out and went to the corral with a saddle. In the dark, Lefty hadn’t been able to tell the colors of the horses, so he’d gently pulled a couple of hairs out of the one he’d identified and now he could match their color with the horse the man was saddling. The same, and none of the others had manes or tails that dark color. When the horse was saddled the man led it out of the corral, closed the gate, and went back inside.

In a short time, he was back. He stowed a bag behind the saddle, mounted, and rode off toward the north. Lefty led his own horse higher up the hill and then along above the faint mark of the roadway below. A small cloud of dust told him that the man was heading that way. Soon he found a long slope down to the valley bottom. Holding the horse’s head up to keep it from stumbling, he rode down the hill. With a short burst of galloping, he was soon able to see the man riding ahead of him and he slowed down again. He didn’t want to make contact yet; this area was too exposed and perhaps someone else could be coming along. At the same time, he didn’t want this one to get away.

After some time of following the dust cloud made by the rider, Lefty noticed that it had changed direction. When he got to where that had happened, he saw that the horse had been turned around and round several times, as if the rider had tried to make up his mind about something. Then the tracks led off at an angle on a narrow wagon road. The land here was clear of brush and looked as though it had been grazed recently. Lefty knew he’d be easy to spot, so he decided to take a risk and head off at an angle to intercept the rider. He saw a line of trees near where he wanted to go and remembered there was a creek somewhere around close. When he reached the shelter of the trees, they hid his dust and he was able to move faster. Once in a while, he would ease out to the edge of the streambank vegetation and check if he could see where the outlaw’s dust cloud was.

Up ahead he saw a low ridge with fairly thick woods. This old road went through a low point, a saddle in the terrain. If he could make good enough time the way he was headed, he’d be waiting for the man on his way down the other side. Lefty wasn’t the gambler most of his people were, but this time he felt the strength of what the whites called a hunch and hurried to take the alternate route. If he remembered the roadway right, it was mostly dirt anyway, not rocky, and he’d always find the man’s tracks again.

After a quick ride around the lower edge of the tree line, he pushed his horse to climb