Free The Legend of Tyoga Weathersby by H L Grandin

backside to the mountain run at the bottom of the ravine. The cool water felt good on his face and stemmed the sting of his wounds and hands. He cleaned the wounds on his thigh and arm, and then submerged his swelling hands in cold rushing water. The rest wouldhave to wait until he got back to the village. He slowly climbed up the ravine’s steep incline back to his friend’s side.
    The bleeding had stopped and the jaws of the killing machine secured Tes Qua’s ankle to his lower leg. To remove the device would only cause the blood to start flowing again, and when the trap was released, Tes Qua’s foot and ankle were coming off with it. The trap had to stay.
    Tyoga weighed his options.
    He could not leave Tes Qua alone and go for help himself. His friend would be dead without someone to care for him over the next twelve hours. He had to get Tes Qua out of the mountains and to the care he desperately needed.
    It was at least a two hour trip following the most direct route to Tuckareegee over the mountain trails and through the high passes. The terrain was too steep and treacherous for him to carry his friend through the night on his back. Some places along the trail were covered in coarse, loose gravel and one misstep would be the end of both of them.
    No, he would have to take the long route through the lowlands following the rivers and streams in the hollows that he knew so well. While the terrain was rough and some portions of the trail were narrow and steep, there were as many places that were wide, smooth and flat. Instead of a two-hour journey, it would be an all night trek.
    There was only one thing to do. He would have to carry his friend to safety by making a travois, a sled used by the Indians to drag game from the woods. He set about the task.
    Tyoga retrieved the makeshift spear from the underbrush where it flew when the Commander launched his first attack and removed the trapper’s knife from the shaft. Then, he cut two eight-foot long birch saplings and trimmed off the side branches. He cut the branches into two-foot lengths that he notched at either end. Removing his leather britches, he slid the long birch poles into each pant leg. At eight-inch intervals, he poked tiny eyelets along each pant leg, through which he could lace the branches to the long poles, which acted as dragging shafts.
    Cutting Tes Qua’s loincloth into strips of leather for cordage, he secured the stays to the long poles to create a frame sturdy enough to support his weight. Skinning the two dead wolves took only minutes,and their pelts provided a cushioned platform upon which he could rest his friend.
    After putting Tes Qua on the sled, Tyoga picked up the ends of the poles, and started the long journey home.
    It was a dark clear night. The stars were out and with no cloud cover, the temperature was dropping fast. The new quarter moon provided only enough light for Tyoga to see the trail and the surrounding terrain on either side of the path. He would be able to see well enough to leave the footpath where it became too steep or rocky and drag the travois to one side of the trail.
    The first big challenge confronted him before he had taken five steps.
    No visible trail led from the escarpment down the steep slope to the stream below. He turned around so that he was facing the travois, and stepped backwards off of the precipice of the ridge. Holding the poles high above his head to keep the sled level, he inched down the slope until the end of the litter supporting Tes Qua’s head eased into the loose soil and rock that covered the slippery slope. Taking baby steps he backed down ever so slowly while praying that the poles at the far end of the litter would hold fast in the loose rocks so that he could control the rate of decent.
    About half way down, he lost his footing on a flat piece of slate that slid out from under him like a wet moccasin on a frozen pond. Struggling to steady the litter, he fell to his knees. The sharp granite