Young Bear sat on a small log before the fire his grandfather had built to keep them warm. He looked over at the pile of firewood stacked beside him. His mind was in a turmoil. He could not think straight. Thoughts of the big soldier with the flaming red hair filled his mind. He tried to think back to the beginning of the march, back to the night he had lost his father to the guns of the white soldiers, back to the day he had lost his mother and his newborn sister. He blamed the white soldiers for his loss and tried not to like them. He really wanted to hate them but it did not to be possible to do so. Each time he or his grandfather was hurting, hungry, or had any kind of problem the white soldier chief always appeared, as though by magic, and solved their problems. When his grandfather was sick and was so cold it seemed as though he could not get warm the white soldier chief rode by and gave them blankets and some strange type of skin that turned the rain away from them. Young Bear knew his grandfather would have died that night if not for the big soldier and the blankets. Then when Young Bear had tried to return the blankets the next day the big red haired man had made him a gift of the blankets, telling him they were his to keep. He had then given him a large piece of venison, enough to share with their friends. The boy remembered he had eaten better that day then at any time since he had left his home in the mountains. The red headed soldier had given them many things, even the boots he wore. Even yesterday, when Old Beaver Tail was trying to build a fire with damp grass, bark, and twigs, the big man had appeared walking through the camp, leading the giant horse. Seeing Old Beaver Tail and Young Bear trying to build a fire with the wet fuel he turned to the soldier who was always following him and spoke rapidly. The soldier had mounted his horse and rode away. A short time later he returned dragging a small tree by a rope tied to his saddle. He had smiled down at the old man and the boy, shook his rope loose from the tree, coiled the it up and replaced it on his saddle. He then turned in his saddle, opened a pouch tied behind him and pulled something from it. He tossed it to the ground in front of Old Beaver Tail. Young Bear saw it was a hatchet with a shiny, sharp edge. It had not taken the boy and the old man long to cut enough of the dry wood to have a warm fire burning. Young Bear sat on the small log, removed his new boots, and turned his sore feet to the warmth of the fire. A short time later Moon Flower had appeared. She sat beside Young Bear and opened a buckskin bag she carried. She took out a metal cylinder, twisted it one way with one hand and the other way with the other hand. Young Bear's eyes grew large. The cylinder came apart. Young Bear thought he had seen many wondrous things since they had started on this trip. He saw the cylinder was hollow and inside there was a greasy substance. She told Young Bear to turn his feet toward her. As he turned he saw her stick her fingers into the grease. She put the grease on his feet and gently rubbed it in. When she finished with Young Bear she moved to Old Beaver Tail and did the same to his feet. Young bear was totally amazed. His feet felt cold and warm at the same time. They no longer hurt. When Old Beaver Tail has asked about the grease she told him it was from the soldier chief. Again it had caused Young Bear to think maybe the white soldiers were not so bad----at least not all of them. He found he was beginning to like the big soldier chief, even though he was trying not to like him. They had been in this camp for two days now and would not move for several more days. As Young Bear had walked about the camp he saw that all the people had plenty of firewood. The food was better now. There was enough food for every one. He knew it was because of the big soldier chief. Even with all this his heart was filled with sadness. The night they had arrived at this camp his friend, Fox Walker, had rolled up in his blanket and gone to sleep. The next morning he did not awaken. Sometime during the night his spirit had walked on, Down the spirit trail. Although he was sad about his friend and the thoughts of him brought tears to his eyes, he had to rejoice for his grandfather. He was getting a much needed rest. If they could stay here for a half a moon he knew his grandfather would be in better health, maybe well enough to finish the trip. He could only hope it would be so. He had heard the Old man tell Moon Flower that he wished to speak to her. He could not think of why but he knew it was important. He could tell from his grandfather's voice. Oh well, he thought, I will know soon enough. For now I must find the big soldier chief and thank him for the wood. The Saga of Young Bear is a copyrighted creation of Dick One-Eagle All rights are reserved.
