Page 35

Liliann could hardly believe where the trail led. When she had first seen it, she had gasped, unable to believe this was part of the trail.

They were expected to cross here?

It must be so. The path led directly here, and, looking forward, she could see it continued on the other side of this deadly gap in the trail.

They had reached this section of the pass while there was still enough light to go across it. But, now she wished it were darker so they could camp for the night, instead.

Dear Lord, help us to cross this without losing our lives. We are both so young, and we want to live. Please, dear God, help us.

Looking outward, she took an appraisal of this part of their path.

The land was overrun by loose, slippery blue-and-green shale rock that was constantly moving and covering over the trail.

Even as Liliann looked out before her, a rock broke loose from the huge sheer rock face on one side of the trail.

She listened for the boulder to hit the ground beneath them.

She heard nothing.

Her stomach dropped. Between the huge rock face, perpendicular to their path and shooting straight up into the blue, there was a vertical drop on the other side of the path.

This drop was, perhaps, thousands of feet below them.

And, though the entire trail was barely wide enough for a horse, there was supposedly an even smaller path within it…

perhaps in the middle of it. But, it was hard to see the way across because the shale, constantly breaking off from the cliff, was either carried off over the edge or it accumulated within the trail, hiding the path.

Liliann again listened for the sound of rocks hitting against the earth below. At last, she heard the whoop from a rock much too faintly as it hit the ground below, a testament to how far one would fall if one were carried over the cliff.

Liliann swallowed, hard. The high tattered-yet tight rock wall which stood straight up from the trail barred them from climbing it or going around it. And, because the tiny mud-like shale was constantly breaking off from the rock cliff, the trail was completely erased.

How was one to get across this? And, do it while leading their ponies?

First Rider didn't look at her as he said, "I go…make trail across you can follow. I come back on trail I made and we go across, you first. Me behind."

"Why behind me? I thought I was always to be behind thee so thou would be the one to face any danger."

"Danger different…here. If I go first and you slip, I not there…to see…to catch. You go…first." Her eyes must have communicated her fear. And, he said, "Many men use trail. Not easy. But, it not snowing or raining; only then, we wait. Ready?"

Liliann couldn't speak. And, she dared not look at the drop on one the side of the trail. Faintly, she nodded.

"You hold…my horse. There…solid ground beneath shale. Foot might go down deep, but it solid beneath." He placed his hand on her shoulder. "It…go well."

In horror, Liliann watched as First Rider, on hands and knees, went out into the shale, scooping up the slippery mud-and-clay-like rock and dumping it off to the side.

Then again, scooping up more shale as he slowly made his way across the pass.

Then, once he reached the other side, he came back to where she stood, repeating the process of scooping up the shale from the trail.

Standing up beside her, he took hold of the reins of his pony and told her, "You go, lead your pony behind you. I follow."

She nodded. She knew she would very much like to close her eyes, but it wasn't possible; she had to see where she was going.

And so, she stepped out onto the shale, one step after another.

At first, she found good footing, but toward the middle of the trail and from then on, the shale began to give way with her every footfall, her feet sinking deeply into the clay-like mud rock with each step, causing her to have to always step upward as though she were running uphill, although the trail sloped downward.

It took all her strength to tread through it while climbing up and up, over and over, as the shale gave way beneath her feet.

It was as though she were running. But, at last both she and her horse stepped out onto the bushy, solid ground on the other side.

She fell to her knees, panting, sweat pouring off her face as well as the rest of her body until she felt she couldn't see.

Her horse was not faring much better than she; it was breathing, but with difficulty.

But, what about First Rider?

Looking back, she saw him, not walking, but running with all his might across the shale, his feet sinking almost a foot into the slippery shale.

At one point, his pony missed a step, causing First Rider to pull harder on his pony's reins, forcefully yanking the pony upward and forward at the same time.

Dear God, help him!

But, by running with his feet sinking down deep into the muck, he and his animal at last stepped out onto the solid ground on the other side. Sweat was pouring off his face, and there was a gray color beneath his skin; Liliann figured hers was probably the same hue.

She immediately stood up and took First Rider into her arms. He was trembling. She was trembling. They were wet, with sweat running off them both.

And yet, it was the sweetest embrace she could ever remember. They had both accomplished it. They were here; they were both still alive. Aye, they were exhausted and shaking. But, they were alive.

It was a good deal of time before they were able to continue on with the trail and to find and make a suitable camp where both they and their animals could rest. But, at last, even this was done.

Lying down was so pleasurable. She thought she might never forget their narrow escape from what she now believed was a death trap. At least she was now able to cling to First Rider, and he to her.

It wasn't long before they both fell into a well-earned and exhausted sleep.

****

The sun must be somewhere up in the deep blue overhead.

But, Liliann couldn't see it. Indeed, the trail on this, the western side of the mountain, was narrow and thin, and it led through a gloomy pine-covered forest with thousands upon thousands of trees so tall they blocked out the sun overhead.

It was as though the timber surrounding their path hid terrible secrets or perhaps housed ghostly shadows.

Here, an enemy could hide until a body was right upon him, and then jump out and…

Liliann swallowed a scream, but a tiny part of the sound broke into the air, to be absorbed by the giant cottonwoods and pines. Still, if there were enemy scouts about, they would have heard it. Looking toward the side of the path, she gasped. Had she seen a bear behind a tree?

Quickly, she gave her pony a gentle kick and rode up close beside First Rider. But, he didn't even spare her a glance.

Problem was, the timber was so dense, so dark and so gloomy, one would have to have been a saint to feel no dread of it.

Still, she told herself she must try to think of happier times, and, upon this thought, she remembered this very morning.

She had awakened wrapped in First Rider's arms. Indeed, he hadn't let go of her all through the night.

And, after snuggling against him, he had awakened and had kissed her, murmuring, "We survive. But, we must find water, I think. I am thirsty."

"Indeed, I be thirsty, also."

"We must go."

"Must we?"

His only answer to her was a smile. Leaning his head down to hers, he kissed her sweetly, then he stood up to his feet, taking the blanket with him.

Sighing, she arose along with him, grabbed the blanket from him and folded it.

Reaching then for one of their parfleche bags, she extracted some of the dried meat from it, offered him some, ate some of it herself and then they set out to cover over their nightly camp and erase any signs they had been there.

Soon they had left the camp to travel down along the steep slope heading north, which had taken them into a deep narrow valley where a fresh stream flowed. Quickly, they had bathed, had quenched their thirst and had then set out once more upon the trail.

It wasn't long before the path had led them into this dark, gloomy and frightening timber that, according to First Rider, continued all the way to the peak of the mountain. There were many deep valleys here, and they were also covered in pines and cottonwoods and other kinds of underbrush.

The air was different here, too: it was heavy with moisture, and it smelled of plants that can only grow within a richly humid atmosphere.

But, at last First Rider found a clearing on a plateau in the forest, and they were able to look out upon the land, seeing a world quite different from the Plains.

Here, many valleys, with their deep and blackened timber, extended to every part of the land as far as the eye could see.

Even the summits of the mountains were heavily timbered.

There were no sharp, rising peaks; no steeply cut banks where the face of the mountain abruptly entered the water which was perpendicular to it.

There were also none of the Pikuni's beloved and grassy prairies; only the gloomy, sinister-feeling timber of pines, tamaracks and tall cottonwoods abounded in this, the-other-side-of-the-mountains land, and the trail led into and through this deep and gloomily timbered land.

The underbrush was so thick and thorny, it covered every piece of ground thoroughly, hiding the path they were following and requiring them to continually scrape away the growth from the trail, if only to ensure they were still traveling upon it.