NYR page 15

Morning came early. Running Bear seemed a bit more reluctant to go. When it occurred to me I would be traveling with someone with whom I could not communicate, I became less excited as well. But the journey was necessary.

The more thinking I had done in the night, the more convinced I was of this. Yet I could not simply adopt their ways. My own were too deeply ingrained in me. 

As we left the village, I noticed Running Bear was carrying a large pack. I was a bit embarrassed to be carrying nothing but my rapier. I tried to offer to help but he would have none of it. He led the way, taking off at an easy lope that would certainly eat the furlongs in a hurry yet leave us plenty of energy.

I followed his lead, my own loose stride keeping me alongside him. I noted he did not look back as we left the village. I started to but just as I was turning my head, I caught a flash of movement overhead. Looking up I saw my eagle soaring along overhead, wings outstretched in the morning breeze.

We ran in companionable silence for several hours. A few times I started to say something to Running Bear before remembering he could not comprehend my words. Idly  wondered when he planned to stop for lunch.

Soon it was clear he had no such plans. Wordlessly he passed me some jerky as we ran. Slowly, methodically his jaws worked at the tough, stringy meat and from time to time he took a drink from a water-filled bladder he was using as a sort of canteen. But never did his pace slacken.

Soon I came to realize how well he ran. My legs were aching and my lungs feeling as if they might explode, yet he showed no signs of slowing, nor of being even remotely tired.

Furlong after furlong fell behind us. Several times we came to forks in the path, yet Running Bear barely seemed to glance at them. Each time he unhesitatingly selected a direction and continued running. His feet tattooed a steady rhythm on the paths.

Finally as the sun was beginning to set he relaxed his pace and began looking around. I could not fathom what he might be looking for. Soon, however, he spotted whatever it was and we turned aside from the path.

Just off the main trail I suddenly became aware of the babble of a small creek. Somehow he knew it was there and had selected to turn aside from the trail at this location. Almost instantly we came upon a small clearing on the edge of a creek.

He made gestures which I understood to mean he wished to make camp. I gathered together a few tree limbs which had fallen to the forest floor for firewood. By the time I had done so, he had fashioned a crude yet effective shelter.

Soon we had a small fire going. I was wondering what we might eat when he formed a crude spit out of branches. I looked on curiously, well aware we had brought no pots or pans in which to cook. This did not slow Running Bear, however.

He gathered together a few pieces of bark and soon had fashioned a crude pot out of them. I was careful not to laugh at his efforts, but it seemed ridiculous. The bark would burn through long before anything could adequately cook.

Once more I was shown how wrong my assumptions could be as he filled the pot halfway with water and put in some meat. Soon the sweet aroma of fresh cooking filled the little glade we were in.

While we waited, I decided to try to learn some of his language. I pointed to him and used the words I had heard repeated which I thought meant Running Bear, then pointed to myself and repeated the words Wise Owl had used in naming me Man Full of Anger.

He did not seem to understand at first so I repeated the process. Slowly a smile grew on his face. He pointed to himself, saying his name, then to me.

I nodded and pointed to the fire. He said the word and I repeated it. Soon he was showing me the names of trees, bushes, leaves, and other things. 

I was now in my element, learning another language and how to interact. And more than that, I felt like I was making a friend.