Finding Those Not Lost

Precious Little Gods

     Preston and I waited anxiously.  I had left most of my luggage in the hotels care.  They provided storage for a fee.  Preston had done the same.
The sun had just risen and you could tell it would be a hot day.  We waited next to two pairs of horses who now carried the gear we would need as we crossed the dry lands of Nevada.  They mostly carried oats for them selves as well as bladders of water.  There would be water but scattered and far apart.  They also carried our gear as we would be spending nights in the dusty country side.
     We also brought along a fifth horse.  He carried the prototype of the xo frame Preston had hoped to find buyers for among the mining companies, but had found none.
     "Why do you want to bring  along your mining invention so badly, Preston?" I asked.
     Preston was checking the horses and their cargo making sure the weight was distributed evenly among them all.  "I am not sure. But I think it is incredibly useful in a variety of scenarios.  If we need to build a temporary structure.  Or if we have to do any heavy lifting." Preston answered.
     "And if none of these scenarios present themselves?" I asked.
     "Well then."  Preston hesitated.  I could tell he was thinking of an appropriate answer.   "Well it will be an utter waste.  Maybe it is better if we don't have any need of it though.  It will mean we have had a rather uneventful few days."
     I smiled at the answer.  Prestons genius was not always practical, but he was nothing if not exceptional.
     Professor Martz and Richard Hawkins rode up a short time later.  A pair of more contradicting riders I could not think of.  Where Richard looked as if he had been born in the saddle.  The Professor looked as if  he could spill off his horse at any moment.  I looked at Preston who returned a raised eyebrow as acknowledgement.
     "Good morning Professor, Mr. Hawkins. It will feel wonderful to be on our little ride."  I said.
Richard Hawkins nodded knowingly and tipped his hat to me. 
    "Yes, though perhaps I should have gotten to know the riding of these wild beasts before I came out west." Answered the Professor.
     It seemed like it took far longer to leave town.  After more words and and a shuffling of gear among our horses we began to head towards the outskirts of town.   Even this took longer than I hoped.  The size of the town and professor Martz riding ability made the ride feel agonizingly slow.  People looked us over as we made our way.  I think the size of our group and the amount of horses we brought a luxury this far west caught many of the townsfolk eyes.
By the time we made our way far enough out of town to truly feel on our way, the sun was high overhead and the heat was already baking us slowly.
     "Mr.  Hawkins what is your plan for today's journey?"  I asked.
     "The plan is to make a water hole I know of that is more than half a days journey from here.  And hope I remember exactly where it is.  I worry that we will not arrive before nightfall and I may miss it in the evening shadows."
     While the ride out of town seemed agonizing.  The ride  through the semi arid land was beautiful.  Sagebrush grew every where.  With a few stunted trees scattered. The ride seemed to go quickly.  Even though we moved at a slow pace the western scenery was breath taking. Preston talked academically with Professor Martz which seemed to  help his riding.  They discussed native American jewelry.  Which I thought was an odd subject.
Richard rode mostly in the lead.  He picked manageable trails for our horses to follow as we made our way east. We were heading for Austin, Nevada another silver mining town.  Between the town's was just the empty beauty.
     Richard kept us moving.  The land around us became less arid as we made our way.  We stopped several times during the day to rest our horse's.  We ate small quick meals Richard made with what little help I could give.
He didn't talk much, but his stoic demeanor appealed to me.  But it was obvious that I was having little effect on him.  He was polite and we would have brief conversations, but at no time did he attempt to flirt or banter with me as we made our ride.  It was a little humbling I had to admit.
I was used to men talking over each other for my attentions, but this western man seemed not want to waste a word.
     The sun began to set behind us as we continued to ride.
I kept glancing back to see the sun setting behind the Sierra mountains to our rear.  I began to worry if Richard would be able to find this water in the fading light.
       I heard the water before I ever saw it.  Carson lake was big and beautiful in the faded light.
We made our way down a gradual trail until we reached the waters edge.
     "Not sure if you would be able to find our camp site near a water source by night.  I think you did well enough"  Preston laughed obviously remembering Richard's comment as we had set out.  For once that day he smiled in my direction.
     We didn't waste any time making camp a safe distance from the waters edge.  I led the horses to the water after removing their saddles and bags.
They drank deeply and I tied them off in a small Spartan grass area.  Richard came over eventually bringing them a ration of oats in their feed bags.
Professor Martz was cooking the evening meal after I finished making sure the horses were cared for.  Preston had put up a pair of tents for us and was helping the Professor with his meal.
The smell of garlic was strong as I spread my bed roll.  The stars were bright as we waited for our evening meal.  I could not help be enchanted by the beauty of the Southwest.  We ate our meals by fire light.  The food was amazing.  The Professor was a fine cook and may have missed his calling with his pursuit of academia.  He apparently had dry rubbed four steaks for us before leaving that morning.  He also brought some potatoes that Preston did a fine job peeling.  But the Professor mashed them and added fresh gloves of garlic and butter to go with the grilled steaks. 
     "Professor this meal is amazing.  I have traveled quite a bit, but no fireside meal has ever tasted as good."
     "I am glad you like it.  I thought we deserved a good meal.  After we leave Austin it will be awhile before our next good meal."  Said Professor Martz  with what seemed like genuine sadness.  He ate with gusto as he sat on large rock as the sun set.
     "Professor what do you think about the piece of jewelry Mr. Hawkins was given?"  Asked Preston.  I sat eating slowly enjoying the potatoes as Professor Martz seemed to think about his answer.
     "It is unprecedented.  I have not seen it's like anywhere in my studies of the Indians of North America.  I am not even sure of some of the materials in its making.  I had a geologist I am friends with at the university look it over.  Now for the record he only had a brief time to look it over.  He said there was an unusual metal he was unable to definitely name with out further tests.  He asked where I had purchased the piece.  I didn't tell him it's origin.  I did however ask him why he asked.  He said the craftsmanship is exceptional as well as the materials.  He said it had the look of some of the finest jewelry making he had ever seen.  He said it reminded him of pieces done by Faberge.  He said he is famous for his royal eggs, but he had done some work in an insect motif.  I was speechless when he said that to me.  I remember muttering some hurried thank you' s to him as I left.  I didn't stop there as my interest was piqued.  I called upon some of the finest jewelers in the Boston area to ask their professional opinions.  The answer was always the same.  The craftsmanship was uncanny.
With some saying it would be of great value if it was ever sold.
Though they did question the subject matter asking why a moth man as they called it was chosen. Others asked why an Angel would have red eyes. All of these inquiries fueled my thoughts.  The more I thought of this piece the jewelers called a moth man the more I drew me back to the drawings on the Toquima cave walls.  I can only guess that the tribe painstakingly recreates their image of these mythical creatures in the jewels form."  Answered Professor Martz.
     "It is an amazing piece, there is no doubt." Added Preston.
     "You apparently were handsomely rewarded for your rescue of Night Whisper, Mr. Marshal.  What do you think of the piece?"  I asked.  Mr. Marshal stopped his quiet eating for the moment.  He looked around out into the night.  He also looked above our fire.  But there was only the bright and clear star filled night.
     "I think the piece is as valuable as the Professor has said.  But I think it is queer thing.  And I am thankful to be rid of it.
I would catch myself looking into the red eyes of the piece.  Sometimes it felt as if something was looking back at me."  He answered.
     "What do you mean?"  I continued with my questions.
     "I didn't look for the chiefs daughter for any reward.  I did it out of the respect he had shown me through our interactions over the years.  I have seen the jewelry many of the different tribes make.  Usually with silver and turquoise.   But this piece was far to great of a reward and I wished I had never laid my eyes on its red eyes." He answered.  He seemed not to wish to speak about it any further and finished his meal in silence.
     "I think my friend may have a bit of the superstition in his thoughts." Said Professor Martz.
I did not know what to make of the Mr. Marshals caution.  But I took it to heart.  I would begin to keep a better eye out upon our route.  And I kept Breaker loaded and close at hand as we continued our trip.
     "I have heard stories of these moth man in other parts of the country folk tales."  Said Preston.
     "As have I.  Though I have dismissed the coincidence." Answered the Professor.
     "Wait.  Besides the pictures upon the Toquima cave, and this queer jewelry there are other drawings of Moth men?"  I asked incredulous.
     "Almost exclusively in America, but yes.  There have been sightings in mountains of West Virginia.  Though more a folktale than creditable sightings. 
Miners mostly digging up coal, as well as the occasional hunter."  Answered Preston.
     "Besides the similarities of mining in the area.  I have not seen anything to draw a connection upon.  There are no cave drawings, artwork of any kind to quantify the locals folk tales."  Countered Professor Martz.
     "What the Professor isn't saying is they have been sighted even in our own back yard.  There have been sightings and legends among the tribes who once called Vermont home, the Abenaki.  They have tales of the white mountain spirits.  The only  consistent point is a mountainous area." said Preston.
I know his point was more for me than the knowledgeable Professor.  I would definitely keep Breaker loaded and close at hand.  We conversed for awhile by the fire.  The topics varied but the starry, peaceful night made it a perfect night.  Only a cold beer, and a warm body next to me could have made it any better.  It looked like neither was likely to happen.  I don't remember falling asleep.  The fire and the star filled nights made it so quiet and peaceful.