Walking Mountain-Shadow Spirit

Shadow Spirit

There’s a full moon out and the light is streaming in through my bedroom window. I’m lying in bed on my back looking at the log ceiling in the loft wondering if I should go through with my plan. Been considering this move for most of the winter, reasons didn’t change much today, but I figured I’d think it through one more time before I took off. Mum died about four years ago, seems ever since, Dad works the clock around and doesn’t have any time to spend with me. I don’t think Dad’s been able to handle Mum’s death: whatever it is, he hasn’t taken time to do anything but bark at me since we buried Mum.

Seems Uncle Josh has picked up the same disease as Dad, he kicked me out of the barn this morning, wouldn’t even let me help him with cleaning the pens. Just some of the reasons all winter long I been thinking about leaving. Now that its spring and things haven’t changed, I figure I’m going tonight. I packed me a little war bag, I’ll go out the loft window after everyone is sleeping. Ain’t any danger of falling, I’ve been up and down that log wall a jillion times.

We live at the foot of the mountains. Ever since I can remember Mountain Men been stopping at the ranch for a bite to eat and while they are here they tell us all sorts of tales. I’m well into thirteen years old now, I heard so many stories I figure I can live in those mountains just as easy as those Mountain Men and under the circumstances I got me a hankering to give it a try.

My dad’s name is James, Mum was Jane, and it stood to reason they’d stick me with another name starting with a J, they named me Jessie. Jessie Jacobsen. Our family has been trying to ranch this area for about five years now. Seems, since Mum died, I been sorta pushed aside. I’m thinking I’ve become someone Dad and Uncle Josh can take out their frustration on and lately there’s been a lot of frustration.

As soon as there was snoring downstairs coming from Dad and Uncle Josh, I jimmied up that window and braced it with a stick I brought up just for that purpose. I crawled out the window took my sack in my teeth and climbed down that log wall. I picked up the axe I had stashed in the saddle shed, then in twenty minutes I was across the creek and walking on solid rock. From here on for the next couple of miles a dang good trackin Indian and a hound dog with four noses couldn’t pick up my track.

I walked in that full moon most of the night before I climbed on top a pretty sharp rock where the critters couldn’t get at me. I slept on the rock with my head on the pack. I figure I put on about eight miles in the moonlight, the moon was going down over the mountains when my eyes got too heavy to hold open.

When I woke up the sun was pretty warm already, I reached in my bag and pulled out a handful of dried beef and a little hardtack. I been storing up for this trek for two weeks. I figured I wouldn’t be able to trap anything to eat for a couple of days while I made my way to the mountains. When I finished eating I grabbed my gear and continued on up the grade to the mountains. I got a good set of legs under me but I was tired so I slept well in the night. Come morning I walked and jogged the day away stopping now and then taking time for a bite to eat.

For the next two days I walked up that mountain, I was high enough now so that it was getting a little cooler at night. I made sure I had me a good coat to make it through the nights. I was four days away from the house when I found a spot I could hold up and catch me a little something fresh to eat.

I picked this spot because of things the Mountain Men mentioned in stories back at the house. The place had water, a little glade for the deer or elk to graze, and there was a well-used trail coming down the mountain where I could trap or ambush game. After scouting around a bit, I really got lucky and found a big rock overhang without any snakes to fight off. I’m not deathly afraid of snakes, but I sure don’t want to share my bedroll with them.

For the next two weeks I practiced to see if I could make it on my own in this little glade. I worked at it pretty good, I didn’t want to go back home with my tail between my legs. I wanted to live up a bit higher in the mountains, maybe even make my way to the mountains beyond and live on the go. While I was here I fashioned a couple of spears with sharpened ends, I practiced at home making and tossing them, figured I may have to put the finishing touch on a larger animal and I didn’t have me a gun.

Just above the game trail there was a pretty good sized limb, I fixed my lasso out toward the end of the branch, then dropped a noose down nearer the ground hoping I could get a deer to put his head in it. I figured I would sit up on the other side of a rock with the spears. I got plenty of rabbits, but I was looking to jerk, dry and smoke a little venison for the trek up into the mountains.

Things don’t always turn out quite the way I plan, I fell asleep on the rock, it was dark, don’t know how long I slept, but I woke up to a lot of racket. Something was down there thrashing around caught in my lasso snare. That big branch the rope was tied to was swishing around like a big fish pole. Whatever was caught in the snare was up and down the slope with the branch catching it as it ran and bringing it back just like a trout on a long willow switch. This went on for some time before things got quiet. Since I didn’t know what was in the snare, I couldn’t see to spear the blamed thing. I decided maybe I should stay right there on the rock till daylight. For all I knew it was bear, and I didn’t want to fight it out with a bear with a couple of sharpened sticks in the dark.

When I woke up I found out I had a small elk in the noose, danged if he didn’t make it all night without that noose getting tight enough to cut off his air and get the job done. Both spears and a half hour later I was skinning out that elk, I spent the day eating roasted elk and smoking jerked meat. Looked to me like I could make my way in the mountains, so two days later with that elk hide filled with jerked meat I lit out for the high country.

I made two such stops as I made my up into the mountains, on both occasions I had me some luck and caught me enough game and I learned to like roasted fish pretty good. My luck was fine until nearly a month into my climb up into the mountains. I had me a big pack of jerked venison, there was fish, strawberries and fresh water high in the mountain. I made my way around a slope that had quite a bit of pitch to it, came face to face with a shale type rock slide