Skalkaho

Mauli knew a way to the secluded mountain and plateau region. His new best friend, Frank, seemed impatient to start the trek. Little did Mauli know Frank had a void in his heart for Maria's attention. Months had passed since he last saw her in a fleeting moment losing a chance for any kind of farewell. The two Marine escorts showed "Frank" the way to Pendleton tore his heart wide open. He loved Marias and now he was tortured by the thought of John Charbonneau manipulating her in spite of Skalkaho. This motivation would push him far into the jungle abyss. He needed sanctuary, he needed to live in order to save Marias from danger and for his own love of her.  Mauli was in it for the adventure and possible profit. He had nothing going on until Frank showed up the day before. This Prescott person had big potential, Mauli thought. He saw a weakness in him but didn't understand that his weakness lived on the other side of the world. The way ahead was through Frank Pres...

Skalkaho was having a miserable night in the mangrove's root holes. The mud pit was wet from the waist down and it stank of rotting foliage or possibly dead animals nearby. Maybe the stench came from his run over firebase where all his companions were in the first phase of high humidity and temperature decomposition. It was just miserable and waiting for morning light was an invitation to being spotted and instantly dispatched.  At about 3:00 AM he began a slow scramble away from the bog. The night was clear and the stars were out. He found the Big Dipper. Knowing some orienteering from his basic training, he could track where the upper right-hand corner of the Big Dipper "Scoop" would line up with the "North Start.  He found the North Star. Standing up and pointing at the star with his right hand with his finger, he extended his left outstretched hand pointing due south. Forming a big plus sign with his body, his nose looked due East. That is the direction of his...

The journey lunges forward to 1970 before that can happen it is important to catch up on family matters with a short version starting with Running Eagle and Skalkaho. The journey from Blackleaf rendezvous to Skalkaho's secret place at the Mud Creek drainage made sense but it also changed history in little bits. A true love blossomed at the creek's edge. It was safe to say all caution was buried when left alone and making blind leaps of love around the splashing sounds the creek rolling over its rocks. Skalkaho had no intention going north or south. He only wanted to be left alone with Running Eagle. His story didn't end at this camp but it changed remarkably with Running Eagle at his side. By next spring it would show all over Running Eagles stature. There would be a baby before mid-summer. No one had found them and all disruptions were several days away in any direction. There was no trail to their camp or tracking towards the lodge that he had been built last fall. T...

The brief camp at Mud Creek has run its course and the couple had to move towards its objective, the Blackleaf rendezvous. A story had to be told and its lie had to be convincing. Running Eagle's life would be in jeopardy if Skalkaho was called out on his story.  The fear level rose in the early morning of the second day on the trail. They would pack the best of the bear onto the two horses as a key part of the story. Skalkaho had about five hours before arriving at Blackleaf. Last night was an unexpected conundrum. It didn't go well as he had wanted. Running Eagle was a far more complex native woman than the white women he had occasioned to impress. The usual boyhood suave did not make a dent in her attitude. No smiles came early as they prepared to leave. It was the only sign from Running Eagle he could interpret as a positive message. She measured a man’s actions over anything he could contrive. The more he tried demonstrating his trapper skills at camp, around the ho...

Skalkaho Chapter 4: Falling Running Eagle And Skalkaho Join As One  It didn't take long for Running Eagle and Skalkaho leaving the Piegan encampment. Little words were spoken. Either didn't really know each other's language. Sign Language was a difficult way for going through and entering the others own soul. Skalkaho rode with her so he could observe her demeanor. She was disheartened and it showed. For the first time, Running Eagle had lost her family and friends while going on this tribal mission of beating the trappers out of the Blackfoot country. She was much celebrated as a warrior with her people, yet her Piegan family turned her away with a white trapper named Skalkaho. They were married in the tribe's eyes, yet her husband was quickly figuring out a way to win her over or ditch his plan. As Skalkaho was riding beside her his admiration for her beautiful looks intensified. Her jet black hair rested past her shoulders as if a fine silk that was never before a...

The ride to the Piegan camp was a nervous journey. It was about fifteen miles from the Blackleaf trapping camp. The thing Skalkaho found so unsettling is the occasional chatter from his Blackfoot escort followed by gestures, occasional smirks, and glaring stares. This wasn't going to be a pleasant trip to the village not knowing if he were soon to be tortured in front of Brown Wiesel Woman or just burned at the stake for ceremonial purposes.  The country didn't change. To the west was a wall of mountains and to the east an endless sea of grass and blue sky. In front were rows of cut banks and benches formed from the Rocky Mountain Front snowpacks. Skalkaho had to make an impression on the village, his life depended on it. By evening he would know his fate in short order. Not feeling the prisoner role his courage solidified in his being, he still had a plan... It would be folly trying to entertain or impress his "captors". The plan became more of destiny's i...