3-Yet There Is No Fear in Your Heart

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About a week had passed since the train robbery and the weather had been calm for long enough that the gang decided it was time to leave Colter and the snow behind them and move on. They headed southeast and took up residence just outside of an old livestock town named Valentine. Hosea had suggested the location to be a good spot to lay low for a while so the gang set up camp in a clearing next to a cliff known as horseshoe overlook. The cliff gave way to a vast, breath-taking view of the valley below with the Dakota river winding through it. Dutch had instructed the group to go to town and surrounding area to look for leads on any possible money making ventures but to do it carefully as to not draw any unwanted or unnecessary attention.

It was the end of their first week in their new camp in the early afternoon and the sky was clear. The sun warmed Arthur's back as he brushed down his recently acquired horse. Hosea and he had stopped at the Valentine stable on their way up to O' Creaghs run for a hunting trip they had taken. Hosea had told Arthur to sell the brute of a shire horse he had aquired from a fella he had robbed and to use the sale money to put towards a new horse that was more to his liking. Arthur fell in love with the spirited black dapple thoroughbred mare the minute he laid eyes on her. The white blaze that ran down the middle of her face formed a crescent moon at the top so he named her Artemis, the goddess of the hunt, wilderness and the moon.

The mare nickered happily and absent mindedly ran her upper lip along the top of the hitching post as Arthur brushed down her withers.

"Good girl, take it easy." He laughed low to himself at her relaxed expression and her nuzzling of the hitch post.

As Arthur continued to groom the mare he noticed the large native man, Charles, approach the hitching post and begin grooming and preparing his Appaloosa mare a few feet behind him.

"Hello Arthur. That looks like a good horse you picked up. How is she working out for you?"

"Charles". Arthur greeted. "Good, so far. She's got a lot of energy and spirit in her and I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Good. She'll keep you on your toes then. Bill and Javier and myself are headed over to Valentine here shortly to have a few drinks and get a feel for the town. You should join us. A few drinks might help you get your mind off of whatever it is that's been weighing so heavily on it lately."

"Is it that obvious?" Arthur questions Charles.

"You've always been the quiet brooding type my friend but lately it's been even more so. Anything I can help you with?" Charles offered.

Arthur remained quiet for a moment as he worked at the knots in Artemis's main, contemplating the offer.

"Charles, you've spent more time hunting and tracking animals in countless settings then I or anyone else here has. So tell me, in all your travels and wildlife encounters, have you ever once seen an all black wolf? Not just that but twice the size of any other species of wolf I've ever personally crossed paths with or heard tale of?"

Charles had been tightening up the girth strap of his saddle but stopped suddenly yet briefly as his eyes lifted up to look at Arthur as the words "black wolf" left his lips but then immediately went back to what he was doing albeit at a slightly less rushed pace, carefully listening now to everything that followed. Arthur pretended not to notice the brief hitch in Charles motions. Charles hesitated for a moment, considering how to word his response.

"The natives of many tribes in these lands tell tales, mostly whispers and rumors that have carried down generations over hundreds of years, of the great mountain shadow wolf. There's more widely known teachings of every man having a black wolf and a white wolf inside them and the importance of feeding both in order to maintain balance. One of the lesser known tales that my mother used to tell me when I couldn't sleep was of the young brave warrior that left his family on his journey to become a man. Along with a bow and arrows and his knife for the first time he ventured out to find and bring down a grown bison, a bull, that he may eat the heart and return home wearing its hide as a robe. The boy found the great bison, the largest in its herd. The boy drew back his arrows, one by one, as the great bull barreled towards him, saliva frothing from its mouth, steam snorting from its nostrils, multiple arrows sticking from its body as it charged closer and closer to the boy but the boy felt no fear. He emptied his quiver of arrows so tossed it and his bow aside and pulled out his knife and stood his ground, never breaking eye contact with the charging bull. Just as the bull reached the boy, the boy jumped, teeth bared, knife drawn. As he brought his knife down, driving it deep into the bulls neck severing the spinal cord, the bull gored the boy in his gut. As the bull fell, defeated, the boy also fell. As he lay there dying he still felt no fear. On the verge of death a great, massive wolf came down from the mountain and stepped from the shadows, eyeing the dying boy on the ground next to the dead bison. The boy stared the wolf in the eyes and still he felt no fear. The wolf spoke to the boy. He said 'boy, you have faced enemy, death and beast yet there is no fear in your heart. From this day forward you are a warrior. A man.' The wolf began to lick his wound and as it did he felt his strength coming back as the wound healed. 'Go. Take your trophy and return to your family.' The wolf said as he disappeared back into the shadows of the mountains.

As the young man wrapped the bulls hide around his shoulders and wiped the fresh blood from his mouth he began the journey home. He stopped and turned to face the mountains and thanked the shadow wolf for blessing him and he vowed to honor his blessing by living a full, prosperous and balanced life." Charles finished, his voice low and his face stoic.

"Huh. Yer mother sounds like she was an amazing woman." Arthur's gruff voice finally broke through the silence following Charles' story.

"Mhm. She was." Charles said with a small, sad smile. "Soldiers took her when I was still a boy. We never saw her again. It sent my father into a downward spiral into the bottle. I left when I was 13 and I have been on my own since. I guess it's partly why I feel a connection to the boy in the story who left home as a boy and became a man."

"No doubt. My mom died when I was young too. Must be how it goes." Author replied sadly.

"Maybe. Anyhow, over the years I've heard bits of conversation and the occasional drunken stories about people, usually younger or injured natives, catching glimpses of the great mountain shadow wolf during a time that they were lost in the woods. That the wolf guided them home or to safety and if the wolf allowed themselves to be seen by a man or woman then that man or woman is blessed and that the honor spiritually puts one at a higher level. They are very sacred. Most people only seen them in dreams or ritual smoking ceremonies."

"Have you ever seen one?" Arthur questions hopefully.

"No. Not so much as a glimpse." Charles sighed. "Why do you ask, Arthur?"

"I caught a bit more than just a glimpse. I watched him eat his breakfast and we stared one another down while I kneeled in the snow with my repeater locked on him."

Charles' eyes went wide. "Arthur! Please don't tell me you killed it!" Charles' voice rose as he took a step towards him causing a few heads in camp to turn their way.

"Easy, friend!" Arthur exclaimed while holding his hands up in surrender, trying to calm the angry man down. "Believe me, I intended to. Figured it was him or me, seein' as how there was only about 30 feet between us and that I interrupted his meal. Till there was a rifle pressed to the back of my head and I was instructed to drop my carbine if I wanted to keep my head intact!" Arthur growled through gritted teeth.

"By who? Was it someone from one of the local tribes? What did the wolf do next?" Charles pressed.

"Tribes had no part in it, dammit, it was a..." Arthur huffed, shaking his head as he quickly checked to make sure that nobody was eavesdropping. He then lowered his voice.... " it was a Goddamn woman!"

"A woman?"
"Yes, Charles. A woman."
"Just one?" Charles questioned as he attempted to hold back a smile, unsuccessfully.
"Okay, laugh it up, she had a Bolt action rifle pressed to my skull with the bolt pulled back and a round chambered and a finger on the trigger...don't matter who was holding it at that point!"
"I apologize Arthur, you're right. Please go on."

Arthur rolled his eyes and went back to tacking his horse as he finished telling Charles the rest of what had happened that morning.

"I just haven't been able to stop thinking about it. What was she doing way out there all by herself? Who was she? I didn't get so much as a last name."

"I still can't believe you actually laid eyes on the wolf. Have you told anyone else about any of this?" Charles asked in a slightly hushed tone.

"No. I mean, I started to talk to Hosea but we were cut short by Dutch and that Cornwall train job. I think he forgot about it. He didn't bring it up on the few days we were out hunting. Why?"

"I think it's best left alone. Less people that know about it the less likely anyone will be looking for it. A pelt like that would be worth a fortune."

"Sure. I see yer point. I'll leave it between us."

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