answered.
âWell, Zack Hollister, Iâm Hawk Trumbull.â
âWhy Hawk?â I asked.
âItâs a name the Paiutes gave me. That was years ago.â
âAre you . . . friendly with the Paiutes?â I asked.
The man called Hawk laughed againâI was starting to get used to him laughing. âNo one is what youâd term friendly with them. Theyâre not even friendly with themselves! Letâs just say I know how to get along with them.â
âThatâs more than the Pony Express does.â
âIâve got some advantages the Express doesnât have. I know some things the Paiutes need to know and where to find certain things they need. So they tolerate me, mostly for what I can do for themâyou hungry?â
âYeah . . . yeah, I reckon I am,â I answered. âBut donât you have anything besides rattlesnake to eat?â
Hawk chuckled. âThe dayâll come when youâll eat my stew and love every bite! But winterâs not all the way here yet, so Iâve got a few things you might like better. I might even make you some biscuits one of these days. Thereâs nothing like biscuits cooked on a stick over an open fire. How about some coffee?â
I suddenly realized the smell of fresh-boiled coffee was all around. I donât know how I didnât notice it before. It smelled just like home!
âSure . . . do you have everything in here?â I added as he handed me a hot tin cup.
âEverything I need. No luxuries. But food and warmth and shelter, and lots and lots of room to myself. Hundreds of miles to call my own, and I learn something new from it every day. Thereâs no life like it, son.â
âLearn . . . learn what kind of stuff?â I said, taking a sip of the steaming black brew heâd made.
âAbout the world, about life, about myself. Mostly about the Creator.â
âYou mean God?â
âThatâs who I mean, son.â
Chapter 14 Bigger and Deeper
Laid up like I was, there wasnât much I could do except lay there and let Hawk take care of me.
He kept blankets and animal furs under me and over me, so I was plenty warmâalmost cozy, if you could use that word about a cave. He gave me meals and checked on my broken leg every so often, packing it in snow again whenever it started to get red or swell up, and keeping the rest of me warm enough that the cold on my leg didnât bother me much.
Weâd sit around the fire and talk a lot. But off and on heâd disappear deep into the cave to do some kind of work, he said heâd show me everything later.
Hawk spent considerable time shoveling snow away from the mouth of the cave and taking it down deep into the other end where he was building up his supply of snow and water for the following summer. He couldnât dig all the way out from the inside until some of it melted. But he got enough dug so that we could go outside, even surrounded by snow, and make ourselves a privy outside the cave, and feel like we were getting a little outside sunlight. Of course, he had to help me when we did, because I couldnât walk on my own for a long time.
He also worked at making ame a crutch out of branches and pieces of wood he had in the cave. He had lots of toolsâknives, axes, shovels, picks, pieces of wood, leather strapping . . . just about everything he needed, like heâd said.
Looking back on it now, I donât know how the time passed so quick. There was nothing for me to do. Hawk kept busy, though I donât know how much of what he was doing he really needed to do.
We talked, but not all the time. Hawk knew how to be quiet, knew how to let silence say what it had to say. He didnât try to fill the air up every minute with words. That was one of the things he taught meâto be comfortable with silence. So during those firstfew daysâthough, like I