Story Teller

Prologue: The Journey

PROLOGUE: The Journey

As soon as Wolf determined their heading was west he took over the lead and set a straight course at a pace tolerable for both the brothers and the dogs. But, as the crow flies wasn't what the dogs had in mind. There still was too much pup in them. Every grasshopper that took to wing and each tantalizing smell distracted them causing detours and they fell farther and farther behind. The brother's coaxings and commands were ignored. Even buffalo jerky enticements didn't help for very long. 

In an irritated voice Loon Caller observed," At this rate it will take a month to reach the river. This isn't good." 

Flint Hunter wiped sweat from his brow and agreed. "I know. What can we do?" 

Loon Caller shook his head. "I don't know but we have to do something." 

Neither knew of a solution so they walked in silence as the dogs frolicked on the back trail oblivious to the brother's concerns. To the brother's amazement and gratitude Wolf had a solution. When he'd had enough of the pup's shenanigans he turned his travois around, went back to where they were nosing around in the grass, and bit them both on the butt. From that moment on the dogs decided it would be prudent to stick to business.  

With the exception of a few wispy clouds to the north the sky was clear from horizon to horizon. Other than infrequent milkweeds and sunflowers there was nothing but a sea of grass as far as the eye could see in all directions. A gusty breeze caused the grass to ripple rhythmically much like waves on the water. The ground was perfectly level and would stay that way until they were close to the river. With no hills to climb and no ravines to cross the going would be easy. But, the two had made the nine day journey many times before and they both knew that the lack of landmarks made it difficult to judge their progress. In flat country like this it sometimes seemed like they were making no headway at all. 

Other than the wind, all afternoon the only sound that reached their ears was the scrapping noise of the travois dragging across the prairie. Since they left the village there had been little conversation to interrupt their thoughts. Flint Hunter sensed that his brother wanted it that way and he knew why. Etched in his mind was the image of Teal Eye as she valiantly fought back tears while she watched them walk away. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and had a smile that would light up a cloudy night. Loon Caller was a good looking man but was by no means handsome. Flint Hunter had often wondered how his brother had won the hand of such a beautiful woman. He decided that some day he would ask him. 

During the past year Flint Hunter had found himself thinking about the opposite sex more and more. Somewhere on this earth was there a special woman for him? If so, who was she? What did she look like? Was she anything like Teal Eye? As he and Loon Caller walked side by side the image of Teal Eye would not leave his mind and he knew why. 'Take care of my husband' she had said. Her words caused apprehension every time he thought of them. For almost his whole life Loon Caller had taken care of him. This journey was risky to say the least. How could he face Teal Eye if something happened to Loon Caller? He had convinced him into making this journey and if there was a mishap it would be his fault. For the first time he realized that he didn't like bearing the responsibility. 

The sun was just above the horizon when they made camp, as it began to drop out of sight the temperature dropped rapidly. While Loon Caller unhitched the dogs, Flint Hunter, with trepidation, gingerly untied Wolf's harness, half expecting that his fingers would be sacrificed in the process. To their surprise, Wolf didn't object, at least until Flint Hunter forgot Two Dogs warning. "Good boy" he said as he impulsively reached down to scratch him behind an ear like he always did with Smokey. Wolf pivoted in an instant and turned with teeth bared to face him as a low rumbling growl rose from deep in his throat. Loon Caller cast an exasperated 'you know better than that' look at his companion as he hung the dog harnesses over the handle of the travois. Flint Hunter shrugged, "I forgot." 

"If you forget too often I'm thinking that it won't be your fingers that will be making weapons if we find obsidian." 

To the west thin wispy clouds were aflame with streaks of crimson and purple as the sun dropped below the horizon. There wasn't even a whisper of wind as the two stood for a few moments looking at the sunset. Loon Caller looked around and said "There should be chips lying around should we make a fire?" 

In Flint Hunter's opinion a camp wasn't a camp without a fire even if there was no cooking to be done and warmth wasn't needed. "I'll make one, I'm cold." In the deepening twilight they each hurriedly gathered a double armload of dry aged chips and piled them next to where the dogs were laying. Flint Hunter retrieved the pack that held his fire making kit and hurried to start a fire while there was still a little light. Loon Caller knelt on the ground and watched intently as his brother went to work. Like almost all of the people Loon Caller could create fire too, but he hadn't the knack to do it a fast as Flint Hunter could. Flint Hunter gathered several handfuls of dry grass and broke part of a buffalo chip into small pieces. From a birch bark container he took a pinch of dry, rotten pulverized wood. Many kinds of dry rotten wood would suit the purpose but the decomposed heart of a dead cottonwood tree caught a spark the best. Flint Hunter placed the pinch on the ground, flattened it slightly with his thumb and picked up his flint and iron. Holding the flint at an angle that would direct the sparks to the tinder he struck with the iron three times in rapid succession. From the center of the tinder a tiny wisp of appeared and Flint Hunter gently blew on the tenuous spot to coax it into life. Loon Caller held his breath, nine times out of ten this was where he lost it. But an ember appeared and grew as Flint Hunter blew a little harder. As he blew on the coal with short, quick breaths he began to add dry grass a little at a time as not to smother the fragile ember. As the plume of smoke grew and the edges of some of the grass began to blacken he blew harder yet and suddenly the tinder and grass burst into flame. Flint Hunter fed the fire with more grass and placed small pieces of chip around the edge. When they caught fire he carefully added larger pieces and larger until they had a fire going that was radiating welcome heat in all directions. The slow burning chips made a hot fire and would keep the chill of the night at bay even though they had no sleeping robes. The fire would serve its purpose but Flint Hunter preferred wood when on the trail. Chips didn't make a cheerful flaming fire like wood and they did little to hold back the night. 

After the fire had burst into flame Loon Caller left his brother to tend to Wolf and the dogs. He filled a large gourd bowl with water and gave each one jerky and pemmican. They had worked hard this day and would work even harder in the days to come so he gave them three times the rations they were served at the village. They would receive more food in the morning. The dogs wolfed down their portion not even taking time to taste it. Wolf had to be hungry too and Loon Caller was surprised when the animal only toyed with his food for a long time. Eventually, with seeming reluctance, he ate his pemmican but as Loon Caller returned to the fire the strips of jerky were still lying on the ground close to Wolf's snout.