The Pythagoras Curse Part VI

Death In The Territories

Someway I did find a way to sleep, but it wasn’t for long. I roused to the jostling of my shoulder and sat up. Long Feather had nursed the fire throughout the night. He handed me a tin cup, the handle wrapped up with my scarf.

“Bitter water Shaman?”

I nodded my head and took the cup. After taking a sip, allowing the warm elixir to fill run down my gullet, I spit out a few grounds and grinned at the boy.

“Ah, just what’s needed this day.”

“Sun is awake. We should go?”

“Yes, let me find a place to take my constitution then we shall continue.”

“Falaya Talako no understand this constushen.”

I shook my head. Did I wish to have a conversation with this boy about emptying my bladder and bowels?

Not on this day or any other.

“Douse the flames with sand and ready the horses. We will allow them their share of water from the river then we will continue.”

For two days we traveled such as this. Staying close to the river which led us north by west, finding a cave when we could or clusters of rock which had tumbled from the mountains. After the initial conversation we’d had, we spoke to each other only when necessary.

I, and I sensed he as well, had settled into a quiet comfortability with being a traveling companion. Conversation wasn’t required.

Not being alone was good enough.

But the fact my requirement was drawing near disturbed me.

Traveling in the Territories as we were meant many days away from civilization.

For me it meant I was far away from death.

The more I thought of it the more I realized how close to death I was.

We reached a broad but shallow river cutting through the plains from west to east and found a place to ford. When we reached the opposite side I noticed Long Feather seemed agitated, restless.

“What troubles you boy?”

“We reach the end of territory. Only Great Spirit owns the land beneath our feet, but white man has chosen the land ahead of us to be his land.”

“Do you wish to turn back Long Feather? I bear you no anger should you choose to return to your family.”

The young man shook his head, twisted around on the bare back of his pony and stared at me.

“No I will help you with your quest Shaman, but I do not know the white man’s ways.”

“Falaya Talako, I fear I know them not as well. Remember, I have spent the last six hundred years attempting to understand them and all I’ve seen is their greed, their lust for power and their willingness to take the life of another.”

“You are a white man and you give life. You do not take it.”

“I was once as they are.”

“You are not now.”

“Enough of the philosophical discussion boy. We have several miles to travel before we bed down.”

As dusk approached we spied the homestead. Set in an open area of prairie grass at a distance I reckoned to be almost twenty rods from the river was a small hovel built of logs.

In front of the tiny home a split rail fence boxed in the front portion of well trodden prairie grass.

To the left, a small corral contained two sway backs, one a roan color, the other a buckskin.

The appearance of the house, the split rail fence and the pen around the horses was shoddy and sorely in need of repair.

Had it not been for the horses in the corral we would have assumed the home abandoned.

As the light around us shifted in tinge from high yellow to soft gray, we found a thicket of trees about thirty rods from the river and made our beds for the night.

Tonight we would rest without fire, experience a cold camp. We would wait until the morrow to approach the house. Tomorrow when we could see them and they could see us.

As light broke the next morning, Long Feather and I were mounted and slowly moving in the direction of the house when we saw the woman. Dressed in linen or wool, it was difficult to discern from such distance, she was carrying a wooden bucket and making her way toward the river.

We could only see her from the back, her head shrouded in a bonnet dulled gray from months of stone washing in the river where she now drew water.

When she turned she saw us. The bucket fell from her hand and with her skirt hiked up in both hands she ran in the direction of the house.

Even from where we rode we heard the slamming of the clapboard door as she hurried inside.

We reached the dilapidated fence, tied off our horses and took two steps each toward the house when the woman reappeared.

In her hands she carried a double barrel shotgun. As we approached she pulled back two of the triggers and I saw her pull back the third, a common trigger which unlocked the action.

“That’s far enough sir. I have no quarrel with the two of you, but I’ll put you both down if you take another step.”

Her face, reddened by years of back breaking work in the sun, demonstrated a resilience, a persistence against the hardships this land had thrown at her. I knew she would not hesitate to pull the triggers if we pushed her to it.

“Ma’am we do not seek to harm you. We only seek honest work. It seems as if your corral and fence need repair and we ask you to let us help.”

“I ain’t got any money.”

“Would you be willing to spare some food with which we could travel?”

“Mister, you and that savage don’t want to be anywhere close to this place right now.”

“We only seek to help.”

With that the woman issued a laugh tinged with bitterness and scorn.

“Help? Out back behind the house is my two babies Becky and Dorothy. Scarlet Fever took ’em both in less than two weeks. I had to bury them girls by myself. My John is inside right now burning to death from the inside out. I don’t think he’ll hold out for but another day or so. So how are you going to help me mister? You think I care about the damned fence right about now?”

“He is a Great Shaman, a healer. He can help.”

“Be still boy.”

“Is what the savage says true? Can you help my husband?”

“No ma’am I cannot.”

“But the injun said…”

“Ma’am, I cannot help the living. Despite this, we will tarry here and repair your fences and corral. It will not be necessary for you to recompense for the work.”

I turned away and headed in the direction of the coral. Long Feather and I had much work to complete and I had very little time.

“Shaman, why did you turn back on woman?”

“She doesn’t need me as much as I need her. It is only this day and another until the anniversary of my curse. Two days Falaya Talako. If he does not die before then the curse will finally take me.”

READ ON — THE PYTHAGORAS CURSE PART VII

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Part XIII, Part XIV, Part XV, Part XVI, Part XVII, Part VIII, Part XIX, Part XX, Part XXI, Part XXII Part XXIII, Conclusion

Let’s keep in touch: [email protected]