The hunt was going slowly this morning. Riding slowly but steadily on their sturdy mounts through the still hanging but gradually disappearing wispy fog, a dozen men of varying ages waited patiently for their greater surroundings to appear so as to better judge their progress along the descending, narrow mountain trail. Despite the warmer-than-usual autumn weather, the members of the hunting posse had dressed more for cooler times, wearing thick woolen capes over their plain flannel shirts and woolen trousers. Their abundant back-packs suggested they were prepared to venture for as long as a week or more as they were on their way to lower climes in search of bighorn sheep. These magnificent animals, difficult prey for man, would now be on their way down into the lower lands to pass the winter months, where snow-buried long grasses could easily be found to supplement their already sparse winter nourishment. The men were presently following signs of their recent movement along the dirt tracks between the rocky outcrops of the decreasingly barren foothills and silently continued on their way, oblivious to all but the ancient call of the chase ...

   Though he had been on these hunts only twice before, the young man two thirds from the front of the column was exhibiting the same experience and confidence of his fellows that belied his years. Having just turned seventeen the previous spring, Jesper Connelly was the youngest of the small group of men walking slowly along the narrow, snaking trail. The nearest in age to him was Railly Johanson, who was twenty three, married and who had been chosen this year as Jesper's uncle's partner in the hunt. When the hunting posse was separated to go on the chase, especially in the lower lands that were thickly forested, the hunters were paired for company and safety, with the younger men like Jesper and Railly always accompanying an older, more experienced hunter. This time, Jesper's partner was Moses Littlethunder, a quiet, burly man of almost sixty years, who had seen many hunts over the years and who had even gone as far as the Great Plains to hunt the buffalo that ranged there. Jesper was disappointed, at first, that he was not to accompany his uncle as he did during his first two hunts, but quickly came to recognize his good fortune in being paired as he was, for his elder partner proved to be an accepting and wise teacher of nature lore during the preparation time in the days leading up to their departure ...

   As the morning progressed and the view of their surroundings became ever more splendid with the ever-brightening sun, a light, cool autumn wind appeared from the north-east and invigorated the men as they came upon their first fork in the trail an hour's ride still from the lowlands. To the right was the trail towards the old city of Missoula, several days ride through Indian lands -- there was not much left of it nowadays but the people of Jesper's mountain village sent a scouting party on a circuit voyage through that territory once a year to watch for signs of benign signs of civilization. To the left, was the trail north-east towards the Blackfoot lands, where Moses had been born ...

    r oansar t

© 1998 11 01

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