Highpockets by Douglas Savage

Author:Douglas Savage
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781590772164
Publisher: M. Evans & Company

A curious dripping sound above Cub’s head roused him from deep sleep. In the bright daylight of late morning, he opened his eyes. He could hear Highpockets and Montana Pete talking softly. Sitting up in his snug bed, Cub pressed his nose against the frosted glass. The cold window stung his face. Wiping frost from the wavy glass, he could make out a shallow puddle in the snow outside where dripping water ran down the eaves of the cabin roof.

Spring! the boy thought.

He turned toward the two men who were fully dressed in their soft leathers. Coffee cooled in the tin pot atop the table. Before he could exclaim his pleasure at the newest sign of coming green, his voice caught in his dry throat. He saw Highpockets quietly wrapping more of Cub’s belongings into small, neat bundles in the cabin comer beside the hearth. The boy turned his face to the window. He wanted to shout for joy: Spring is coming! But he could not.

“Come get your coffee, Cub,” Highpockets called cheerfully from his comer.

“Venison be hot, too, Cub,” Montana Pete added loudly.

“Good morning, Highpockets. Pete.” Cub spoke with thickly accented words. His Russian always got the best of his morning tongue before it was coffeed.

“Hurry, Cub. We have miles to go before nightfall and Highpockets’ table.”

Cub was relieved by Pete’s assurance that he would see Highpockets again this day. After his morning blessings and breakfast, he climbed into his boots, furry leggings, and bulky fur parka. Inside his furs, Cub walked awkwardly toward the mantle above the fresh fire. He pulled the Hawken from its pegs on the chimney and looked at High-pockets. When the old man nodded, Cub put the strap of the powder flask over one shoulder and Highpockets’ possibles pouch over the other shoulder.

Cub followed Montana Pete into the overcast daybreak.

“Till later, Highpockets,” the boy called over his shoulder.

“Till later, boy.”

All day Cub walked at Montana Pete’s side through the dense trees. Long pine needles dripped with the coming of spring to the high places. By nightfall, Cub collapsed on his cot too exhausted to be hungry.

And so it was for three weeks: Every dawn, he followed Montana Pete to some distant and different reach of the surrounding forests.

Whenever Cub had a mulie squarely in the Hawken’s sights miles from the cabin, Montana Pete would always manage to snap a twig or cough just in time to send the deer flying into the wilderness. Cub tired of this daily, senseless ritual of going home empty-handed and cold.

But every day Cub followed Pete into the woods. The forest was now alive with new sounds as every tree dripped snowmelt onto the darkening floor of the forest.

As Highpockets was the boy’s teacher, Montana Pete was his examiner. What the old man had taught him, Pete was testing in the forest. With each day, his respect for Pete increased. He tested Cub but said very little. He simply followed and watched and listened. Montana Pete’s loud “Well done, laddy!” was as welcome as Highpockets’ nod of approval.

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