Free Buffalo Medicine by Don Coldsmith Page B

Boy was nearing the edge of the world and shadows were long as they shuffled back through the village to their enclosure. Their over-seer walked alongside, intent on watching for any infraction.
    Just as they were opposite the medicine lodge, one of the Hairfaces called to the man with the whip, and the other stopped to converse with him. The prisoners, glad
for any opportunity, began to slump to a squatting position of rest. Owl glanced at the preoccupied overseer, and took a few steps in the direction of the medicine lodge as he squatted.
    From this position he could see through the massive doorway, which stood open. It took a moment to adjust his eyes to the dimness inside, but soon he could make out shapes and objects. Light came from the small fires burning on the tips of the lumps of fat used by the Hairfaces for this purpose. By this dim light he could see what originally appeared to be men and women in strange garments. Then he realized they were only effigies.
    Suddenly he saw, at the far side of the medicine lodge, an effigy larger than all the others, and horrifying beyond belief. He hoped it was an effigy, though it could have been an actual person. At least, it was life-sized.
    Against the far wall of the medicine lodge had been erected another of the symbolic trees. And, horribly impaled with stakes driven through hands and feet, hung the prisoner. He was clad only in a breechclout, and his head hung forward, in death or unconsciousness.
    Owl crept cautiously back to the line of other prisoners. He could hardly comprehend the barbarity of this form of torture. Aiee , it was no wonder the medicine man commanded such respect. Owl resolved to stay as far from the man as possible.
    He did not abandon his thoughts of escape, but he would have to be very careful. He had no desire to be the next prisoner to be staked to the tree for torture.

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    The trail to the mine was narrow and steep, crawling along the shoulder of the mountain. On the uphill side the slope was rough and broken, with scrubby junipers scattered in the few accessible areas of soil among the boulders. On the other side, dropping precipitously, the canyon stretched along the trail nearly its entire length.
    The depth was breathtaking to Owl, raised in the gently rolling prairie. He had, at first, an almost irrational fear of the cliff, soon erased by the hard physical labor of the task required. Still, after many days of staggering up the narrow path, and returning, bent under a heavy ore sack, there remained the dread of the height. Whenever he looked down at the pointed tops of tall fir trees, dwarfed by distance, his bowel tightened and his equilibrium became disturbed for a moment. He tried not to look down often. This was easy, because the utmost attention was required not to make a misstep, especially on the descent.
On this leg of the journey the ore sack on one’s shoulders made a top-heavy load, and balance was critical.
    On the return trip, several times between dawn and dark, it was sometimes possible to look far off across the canyon. The opposite range of shining mountains rose on above them, while in the vast intervening space eagles flew and fluffy clouds drifted. Owl never became accustomed to the strange feeling of looking down on drifting clouds or soaring eagles.
    These moments of wonder were fleeting, however. Stationed along the trail were the overseers, each with his ever-ready whip. If a prisoner stumbled or seemed to be malingering, the stroke of the cat followed without hesitation. El Gato, more malevolent than ever; could always be counted on to assume a post about halfway up the trail. It was a difficult part of the path at best, very narrow around the shoulder of the mountain. Here there was not room for two to pass on the trail, so it was sometimes necessary to wait for another to traverse the narrow spot. Unfortunately, El Gato’s post overlooked this portion of the path. The man had selected as his own a huge