Deep within the swamp, Agwé lives a peaceful life among his family and animal friends, with whom he shares a special gift. That is, until his life is torn asunder and he is driven from his home by the voodoo spirits. Lost and alone, he wanders the...
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Though I had never been around it before, I knew the white, powdery substance surrounding me to be snow. I ran knee-deep through the stuff, racing against the giant frog. Its hops covered great distances, and the heavy snow made it difficult to keep up. Falling behind, I became reckless in my pursuit, losing my balance and sliding to the edge of a cliff. I grabbed a hold just in time. Looking down, I realized just how high I was, towering over the land surrounding me. Panic filled my body as I clung to my lifeline, but my grip abruptly failed, sending me plummeting to my doom.
I woke from my dream in that all too familiar cold sweat, which I thought was oddly appropriate considering the frigid landscape of my vision. Those must have been mountain peaks I was racing upon, the snow and sheer height seemed to confirm that fact to my mind. The thought of leaving the warm, cozy cottage of the Pollards, themselves some of the warmest people I had ever met, was painful, but I knew it was time to go. They were saddened at hearing the news, but not shocked.
"Agwé, there can be no doubt you are destined for great things in your life. We can never repay you for what you have done for us. Not only in rescuing our nephew from that mine explosion, but now in saving our own lives from those cattle rustlers. Though we could never have children ourselves, you truly have felt like a son to us. Our door will be open to you, always. You know that right? I hope we get to see you again some day."
I fought back tears during our farewell embraces, and thanked them for all they had done for me. Hearing I was bound for the mountains, Otto lent me his horse Juju. It had always possessed an uncanny ability to find his way back home, and was sure to return to the ranch after bringing me to my destination. I gratefully accepted this final gift of kindness from the Pollards.
The closest mountain range I was aware of was one to the northwest that went by the name of The Grizzlies, with the tallest among them being Mount Hagen. So with my knapsack crammed full of assorted baked goods and vegetables from Martha, I mounted Juju and was on my way. The four day journey was mostly uneventful, and I once again enjoyed observing as the landscape gradually transformed along the way. The grassy hills gave way to dense trees upon entering Cumberland Forest. Following which, the terrain slowly became more and more rocky and cold. I then crossed the Dakota River and followed the windy trail as it continued down towards Cattail Pond. I was even able to catch a glimpse of Valentine far in the distance, and wondered how Hank, Ernie, and the girls were faring at the saloon.
As I followed the river, which now snaked steadily north towards Mount Hagen, the temperature plummeted, and to my joy large flakes of snow began to drift down from the sky. With childlike excitement I opened my mouth wide and caught a few of the snowflakes in my mouth. Used to the hot, humid weather that I grew up surrounded by, this was a great treat to me. I was going to enjoy this wintery weather, I thought to myself. It was truly magical, in its own way.
Pockets of snow began to form as Juju carried me steadily onwards, and I began to observe animals I never had before. Bighorn rams, snowy foxes, mountain goats, and even a few bison. What a thrill! By the end of the fourth day, deep snow blanketed everything as far as the eye could see. Once we reached the base of The Grizzlies, I bid a heartfelt goodbye to Juju, who promptly began the return journey that would reunite him with the Pollards at Emerald Ranch.
