Denver was twice as far as Goodland was from the cabin on the mountain. The trail was wider and smoother because of all the traffic going back and forth to Denver. Fort Collins was on the map at the assay office. It was no more than an hour's ride on a good horse if you had business there. It's one place I had no business and wanted none. It was also the place where you could find the cavalry.

That should have made me uncomfortable, but it didn't. Our Pawnee village was no further from a fort than Denver was to Fort Collins. If the cavalry came for you, it didn't matter how far the fort was from where you were. The cavalry was the unstoppable force that stopped anything they had a mind to stop. I no longer worried that much about the cavalry.

I was on the run for a long time. Now I was on my way back to where the running started. If they could find me in Paradise Valley, nowhere was safe. When I hadn't felt safe even at the family farm, I felt safe here. We needed to go out to do the survey, and we would be extra careful when we came back to the valley. We didn't want anyone seeing us disappearing into the rocks. We made sure no one was on the trail when we went home at night.

The trick was for the cavalry never to find Paradise Valley, even though it was a few hundred yards from the main trail they traveled to get to Denver. There was no reason for anyone to ride up between towering boulders to find an opening in impregnable cliffs.

You had to be right in front of the opening to see the canyon entrance.

Robby had found it. He was a surveyor, and maybe curious about the cliffs across the trail from where 1st National Bank's land was being surveyed. The cliffs hadn't appeared on the map at the survey office. It showed what was east of the trail. There was no detail to the west. Fort Collins was a dot on a map without any details to the north. Fort Laramie had a similar dot well to the northwest.

John and I started the surveying on the second day. We used the first day to set up a practical camp, sending Samuel out to get supper the first day.

Demon, recognizing the 30/30, stayed put. He did not like guns, and Samuel hunted alone.

Demon waited to hear the report of the rifle, knowing what it meant. Samuel rarely needed to fire a second shot.

Demon arrived on the scene about the time Samuel was cleaning his kill. Samuel cleaned his kill near where he shot it, which meant food for Demon. An appetizer for our dog who would sit next to the firepit waiting for his share of the meat we ate.

He still turned his nose up at beans if not properly seasoned with meat.

Demon was a connoisseur.

Once we heard the shot, it was time to get the fire going. We would have something to cook on it once Samuel returned. There was nothing like the taste of fresh meat. There was usually more than enough to toss Demon a tidbit or two. No one went away hungry.

On the farm, Samuel started going out with paw to hunt. Proud Eagle went with him. Samuel had been our hunter for some time. He was as good as I was, maybe even a better shot. Once we went to the village, after the survey, I would see which one of us was the best.

In our new home, when it was time to hunt, it was Samuel who grabbed the rifle.

It was on the fifth day, while coming back from the survey site early that both John and I heard it. We were coming up the trail from the Denver side of the valley, and a gun shot echoed out to where we were on the trail below the valley.

"That 30/30 makes quite an echo," John said.

"It does. It came from right there," I said.

I pointed at a spot where the cliffs appeared to be impregnable. It was obvious someone was behind those cliffs.

This wasn't good. Anyone riding down the trail and hearing gunfire might go to investigate and find the split in the cliffs that led them into the valley. I didn't like that idea and it was up to me to figure out how to hunt without alerting anyone on the trail that we were in the valley just beyond those cliffs.

Hearing a gunshot would alert a rider that someone was behind those cliffs. If they took to searching for an entrance, they might find the canyon. That was not about to happen.

I didn't want to give anyone the idea that the cliffs that appeared impregnable weren't impregnable after all. There was no mistaking where the sound came from.

I didn't say anything once we got to the boulders that guarded the entrance, and we waited on the trail for a few minutes, to see if someone might be coming along. John watched to the north, and I looked toward the south, and only when we were sure no one was coming did we ride between the boulders and enter the canyon.

Samuel had cleaned and brought in the raccoon a little after we dismounted and led the horses to the pasture where they could graze and drink. I was building a fire in the firepit. I began to think about how we would eliminate gunfire in Paradise Valley.

It was difficult to shoot supper without benefit of a gun, but I had done it. I spent years being a silent hunter. No one knew when I got game, until I showed up with my kill. Samuel had become a good hunter.

I was a good hunter with a rifle, but when I found myself in the Pawnee village, I put my Hawkin away. I learned to hunt the way the Pawnee hunted.

Did Sammy Boy have the patience it took to learn to hunt without a rifle?

I fashioned our cooking implements that allowed me to turn the meat as it cooked and not take it off the fire to turn it. There was plenty of meat on a fifteen-pound animal. I waited to speak about the gunfire until supper was almost over and I decided on what to say.

"A really fine dinner, Samuel. How far did you need to go to get the raccoon?"

"Far edge near the waterfall. I was coming out from between the trees. He was coming toward me when we saw each other. He wasn't as fast on his feet as I was with my trigger finger. Only took one shot. Nice size raccoon too. This place has a lot of game, Pop."

"What game have you seen. Does hunting look promising to you?"

"It's a land of plenty, Pop. I saw dear and goat up on the cliffs near the waterfall. There are pigs. Can you believe that?" he said. "I saw a dozen pigs, a dozen rabbits, and the raccoon of course. I don't know about the bigger forest to the south. I haven't gone that way yet. This place is bigger than it looks. Took thirty minutes to reach the waterfall moving at a pretty good pace. It's at least two miles, maybe three from where we're camped."

"We heard you from the trail when you shot the raccoon," I said, letting him think it over.

Samuel didn't say anything, but he knew there was more. He wasn't sure what it meant, but his mind began to work on the problem. This was a hidden valley. It wouldn't stay hidden long if men heard gunfire from behind the cliffs.

"It's not a good idea to fire guns back here if we don't want to attract attention to what is a hidden valley. I don't know how Robby stumbled on to it, but gunfire in the valley is a sure way to draw attention to the fact we are back here ."

Samuel needed to think this over before he replied. He knew I already had a solution to the problem, and he wasn't going to spend a lot of time pondering our dilemma.

"How do I hunt without firing my gun? You want me to throw rocks at the game? With that plan, we're all going to lose weight," he said chuckling at his cleverness.

It was funny. I laughed.

"You done?" I asked him.

"I might want a little later, but yeah, if you plan to show me how to hunt without a gun, I'm done," Samuel said, interested in what came next.

He wasn't at all annoyed by being told he couldn't use a gun to hunt any longer. He was ready for whatever was coming, and he followed me to the wagon.

At the wagon I climbed up to reach behind my seat for the bow and sheath of arrows I carried with me for years. It was the only thing I kept from my time as a Pawnee. I left it at the farm when I originally became Phillip Dubois. On one of my visits to the farm, I decided to take it with me to remind me of who I really was.

It didn't hurt that Running Horse made the bow for me in the lodge we shared. He made some of the arrows. Holding that bow allowed me to see him making it. I knew his arrows from the ones I made, because he put a notch below the feathers on his.

Just holding the bow brought Running Horse closer to me, but this would be a valuable tool in preserving Paradise Valley. Somehow, showing Samuel how to hunt with this bow wouldn't detract from its value. Samuel was a hunter, and he would like the new challenge hunting with a bow offered him.

Perhaps it added value by putting it to work doing what the bow was intended to do.

Samuel's eyes opened wide when he saw the bow. I thought it might intimidate him, but It didn't. The look on his face told me he was immediately intrigued by the bow.

"A bow and arrows. You going to teach me to hunt with a bow?"

I remembered how the Pawnee boys took to Samuel. Sammy Boy was no less interested in them. He knew they would have hunted with bows. He wanted to know how to hunt with a bow. Sammy Boy was around Indians twice, and both times he was drawn to them in ways I wouldn't have expected. Was it because I was Pawnee? I couldn't say for certain.

He knew I was Pawnee. Perhaps that had him wanting to know more about being Indian. While he had no experience with Indians, he showed no fear of them even before I told him that I was Pawnee. Samuel was not judgmental. People were people. They came in all varieties and colors. He was white. Most people weren't as white as he was.

The man he called Pop had been white, Pawnee, and he was white again, but he didn't forget how to use a bow to hunt. Showing Samuel to hunt with a bow had me feeling more Pawnee than I felt in years, except maybe when Running Horse came to the farm. I did admit I felt pretty damn Pawnee with Running Horse in my arms.

Once again Sammy Boy rose to the occasion as I remembered how long it took me to learn how to use a bow, after hunting with a gun all my life. I too was anxious to learn so I would be able to hunt with Lit'l Fox and Running Horse after I became Pawnee.

Actually, I had always been Pawnee, but I had to learn how to be Pawnee.

"I'm going to teach you. From now on, I'll go with you to hunt, and you can watch me use the bow, and then, while John and I are surveying, you can practice."

"Okay."

Standing beside the firepit, I shot an arrow at a tree about twenty yards away. I was afraid I would miss it. I didn't miss. I went to pull the arrow out of the tree and bring it back.

"See, nothing to it. Now you do it."

I waited to say that after I hit the tree. Samuel had an odd look on his face. He saw me do it. He wasn't sure about the bow and arrow deal. He looked at me. I handed the bow and then I handed him the arrow,

"Go ahead. I showed you how it was done."

He did see me successfully hit a tree. I remembered my first few lessons using the bow and arrow twenty years before. First they let me see it wasn't as easy as they made it look.

To say it didn't go well was an understatement. It took months for me to be able to hit what I shot at, but after a few months, I was well on my way to becoming one of the best shots in the village. I was as proud of that accomplishment as I was of anything I did. It led to me being presented with two eagle's feather from Chief Lone Wolf.

Lone Wolf was a man of few words, but he knew how to send a message.

I always hunted with a gun before, but those feathers said more about my Pawnee blood than anything that came before. Samuel was a hunter, and he would master the bow, but not yet or in the near future.

I was Pawnee.

I would sit at the right hand of Running Horse. That was the message he sent to his village. Running Horse had been installed as Lone Wolf's successor, as the chief's time grew shorter. He wanted a smooth transition to a new chief.

Of course, Running Horse was always the best shot. On the day we received our eagle's feathers, I outshot Running Horse, but my lover was consistently a better shot than me.

Chief Lone Wolf awarding me those feathers finished my transition into being Pawnee.

I don't think there was anyone in the world I would trust with that bow but Samuel. I hadn't even taken the bow out in front of John. No one knew it was behind the seat in the wagon. I worried the bow was evidence of my true identity. I knew it was there, but no one else did, until I took it out to teach Sammy Boy how to hunt with it.

I bet the real Phillip Dubois knew how to hunt with a bow. Trappers and adventurers often adopted indigenous tools because they served a purpose for which they were used. Firing an arrow didn't reveal where you were. A rifle told anyone with in earshot where you were, and from that day forward, no guns were fired inside Paradise Valley.

Samuel took the bow and a single arrow. We walked back to where I stood to shoot at the tree. He turned toward the tree and got ready to shoot, but something went terribly wrong.

Both bow and arrow ended up on the ground at Samuel's feet. He looked down at them. He looked toward the tree. He looked at me.

"How did you do that? How do you get the thing to shoot straight? It's alive, isn't it?"

I laughed.

"Practice, practice, practice. I practiced every day for months when I was first given a bow. I was a crack shot with a rifle, but I couldn't hit anything with bow and arrow. What you just did, I did dozens of times. I ended up wrapped in the bow one time. Still don't know how I did that, but all the other boys at the village hunted with a bow. I was determined to do it.

"You did learn?" Samuel wanted to know.

He saw me hit the tree, and I wouldn't chance doing it again.

"I learned. Running Horse made that bow for me. It's the most important thing I own besides Dobbin. Keep that in mind as you go about your business."

"Not Demon?" Samuel asked.

"Demon is a wolf. You don't own a wolf. He hangs around for his own reasons, but I never thought I owned him. Like no one can own you, Samuel. No matter what they say," I said.

I didn't know at the time how this phrase would come back to haunt me.

"Don't feel bad. I did what you just did my first time. I did learn, but it took months of practicing before I hit anything I aimed at. You are a hunter, and once you figure out the bow, you'll be as good as you are with the 30/30. You might even be better with a bow. It' not as difficult as you think. You'll get used to it. Practice while we are out surveying."

"I might shoot myself in the foot with this thing," Samuel said.

He was looking down at the bow and arrow that ended up at his feet a second time.

"It is alive," he said.

"Get used to carrying it. Get used to putting the arrows in place. Don't worry about hitting anything. When I come in, I'll make sure we have enough daylight to go hunting. You find the places where you see game, and we'll go out once I come back from work. During the day, go out and practice. You'll get the hang of it."

I was comfortable with telling Samuel how it would go if he practiced each day. We did break off an hour or two early for the next two months. Each night, once we rode back into the valley, I'd take care of Dobbin before going out with Samuel to hunt.

The weather went from mild to much cooler days, but the sky remained clear, and as long as the sun shined, we worked in shirt sleeves. It wasn't hard work but we were constantly moving from one section of land to the next. Being involved with our work, the cold didn't bother us that much.

No matter the temperature that day where we surveyed, Paradise Valley felt warmer. With steep cliffs surrounding it and with the sun shining, it was warm in the valley during the day, and cool enough for comfortable sleeping at night in Paradise Valley.

It was during the third month that Samuel showed me a discovery he made.

"What is it?" he asked me.

I held my hand near where hot air came out of the ground near the waterfall. I had my moccasins on when we went hunting, and I felt warm ground under my feet near the spot he showed me.

"It's warmer here," I told him.

"Why? Someone have a fire going down under us?"

"You may have found the gateway to hell, Sammy Boy. I don't know what it is," I confessed.

I didn't know what it was and I couldn't even guess. Could the gateway to hell be located in Paradise Valley? It was beautiful here. If the devil lived down there, I wouldn't bother him if he didn't bother me.

"Probably a thermal vent," John said. "I saw such things at something called Hot Springs. It was down south somewhere. Arkansas maybe."

We hunted over by the waterfall, because all kinds of game drank in the pond below it. The goats seemed to migrate to that part of the valley. We hadn't shot one because they climbed up high into the rocks. I didn't want to climb up there to bring one down. I ate goat meat before. It was fine but not part of my diet in years.

The valley was full of game, and the first few days we hunted together, I didn't get a shot at anything, but once Samuel scoped out the entire valley, he'd seen where the game drank, and he knew what he was likely to get at a spot he selected for us to hunt He picked the spot, and I used the bow to get us supper. It did come back to me. I hit what I aimed at.

As with most places you find rabbit, you find a lot of them. We all had a taste for rabbit. Woodchuck cooked up nicely and was good eating, but it was greasy. The pork needed to be smoked or salted to preserve it. Pig were in general thirty or forty pounds for a small pig, and some pigs weighed hundreds of pounds. We only killed a big pig when we had time to salt it or smoke it to have dried pork. This gave us a source of meat we could carry with us to have dried meat during the day. The nice thing about pork, it was good hot or cold, and it was plenty cold after sitting in my saddlebags a few hours.

Like with the valley being warmer because of the heat running under it and exiting at several places we found, the caves were cooler and perfect for storing meat. The cliffs inside of the valley were dotted with caves. Some were dark expansive underground networks, and others barely put a dent in the cliff. Those were the ones goats used once they saw us.

I built a supply shed to get our goods out of the wagon, and I built a smoke house to smoke meat that we could store and use any time we didn't have time to hunt. With Samuel in the valley every day, we knew where to go to hunt.

I hadn't had time to do an extensive exploration of the cliffs to see where the caves might go, but it was on my list of things I wanted to do. By the time I came in from surveying, it was late enough we needed to hunt before it got too dark.

Surveying every day meant we were moving right along. John and I worked well together, and neither of us needed breaks, except when we ate lunch, and then we went right back to it. Because I wanted to get it over and done with, I didn't take the time to explore Paradise Valley myself. When Samuel made a discovery he thought was important, he'd show me once I came in from the day's work.

After two months, I took a few days off to bring my paperwork up to date, and I began looking at the cliffs for openings that might be caves. John saw places I didn't see, and Samuel knew where several interesting caves were. Sammy Boy liked exploring caves, when he wasn't looking for where the best game was.

The caves both intrigued and worried me. I couldn't put my finger on it, but they worried me.

We didn't hunt the goats, but there were plenty of them on the cliffs near the waterfall. I watched some of them moving in and out on the cliffs while we hunted. It took me until I was doing paperwork to get the idea I would take a closer look at where the goats disappeared to whenever we showed up to hunt. They were crafty critters, and they understood, when we showed up, something was about to die.

I was curious about the goats and the area around the waterfall we couldn't see from across the valley. I intended to take a look all along. I just hadn't done it. It wasn't like we hadn't kept busy getting the survey done.

The one cave I went into, Samuel showed me, and it was just above our camp. It went back a ways and was cold enough to store our dried and salted meat. If we were in a rush and didn't have time to hunt, we had meat tucked away for a rainy day.

"There are caves on the canyon wall behind the waterfall. We don't have material to make a torch or two that will allow us to explore those caves. I want to know what's up there, John," I said one day over our rabbit supper.

"What are you looking for?" John asked.

"What is everyone coming to this area to look for?"


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"Gold"

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