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What's Beyond the Mountains?

by Maricel Peña, age 12

A long time ago.....

Since I don't have a Grampa, I don't have many stories told to me. This is my book to you. This book is fiction and many of the words are in Southern dialect.

A long time ago, I was walking down the street. I came to a pond. Sitting at it was an old man. First I was stiff, then, curious. I decided to say hello. I did and he lifted up his head, "Uh," he said. "My name is Bill." Then I recognized him as my friend.

"You jokester, I thought you were someone else" I said. Bill was my 111-year-old friend. He was homeless. Well, actually he did have a home. Bill's home was at the pond. That's where I visit him every day. It doesn't matter whether you have a home or not, it just matters if you have a heart, and he surely did. Now his home is the earth, the wind, the rain and the sky. Bill's home is the water, trees, soil and the sun.

I feel like Bill was my Grampa so I call him Grampa Bill. Grampa Bill tells me a lot of stories about when he was little. He said there were brooks, lakes, streams, lagoons and waterfalls. I used to visit him every day. One time I asked him "What's beyond the mountains?" This was his answer.

Now to begin our story...

A long time ago, my Ma was in the canoe my Pa gave her, rolling along the long Mississippi River singin' a song our family used to be a singin'. There I sat, next to her in a pile of clothes so I would be a hidden.

It was during the Civil War. We was in the South, tryin' to get over to the North to find jobs. I and her was mighty scared, in case soldiers were huntin' us blacks to turn us back into slaves. Mama was a stoppin' at land to have us some of that might tasty soup of hers. We were a sittin' down an' eatin' our soup, when outta no where comes a big ole fat wolf a growlin' and a snarlin' at us. I jumps up and throws a big ole' fire rock. The big ole' wolf just stays there snarlin' and a showin' his big ole yeller teeth.

Mama lost her wits and froze, her face was blue as ice. But I wasn't scared, not me. I wasn't yeller. So I's start a yellin' and a screamin'. That wolf shies away, and I feel kinda sorry for 'er. It goes away and comes back again wit' a tiny pup. I can see the sadness in 'er eyes, as she pushed the pup towards me. "Why me?"

Wolf...

I kinda felt that I was special. This same wolf was growlin' and a snarlin' one minute, now she's scared of me. Then I remembered somethin', Mama! Good, Mama was fine, gatherin' her wits. "Ma, are yas ok?" says I. "Billy," she says "I gotta go."

So mama goes and gets firewood. I throws Wolf bits of meat. Wolf, that's what I named my wolf.

A few days later Wolf is as tame as a dog. I named her pup Fred, the name of my Papa. I loved my Papa very much and when he died, Ma and me used the canoe to try to get to the North. That's what Papa would have wanted.

But now, here we was in the middle o' nowhere. I look out across the fog-filled sea. I sees a boat, oh no! a boat! I sees some faces. White faces! Ma's over there, behind that bush. I knows I can't yell, they'd get bot' o' us. I quietly climb behind the nearest boulder.

I couldn't bear t' look, through the wind and rain of last night it was impossible to look for my dear mother. I heard screams and yelps from the spot. I had to close my eyes, holding back the tears for my dear Ma. Finally all was quiet. They left with her, my mother. That night I couldn't sleep; I didn't hear her soft humming through the breeze.

I woke up early the next morning. Fortunately, Wolf and Fred were with me that night. I probably wouldn't be here, eatin' breakfast if they wasn't here. I had heard jackals in the woods around us. Well, whatever they was, I heard yelps.

I knew it wasn't good for a man to cry. My Pa had once told me "don't cry, ya's not a man, if ya cry." But there was I cryin' wit' Wolf a lickin' me face, like me was her pup, like Fred. Fred was over there playin' and a swattin' wit a fly. He was lookin' like me when I was a little kid. Then it hit me, I'm an orphan!

I made up my mind to get to the North, no matter what. I'll take Wolf and Fred, pack lots of food, wood and water.

The next day was very busy. I was packing, gathering, picking, cutting and building a boat. I trained Wolf to bring wood to me, while Fred chewed it up. I used the chips to fill the bottom of the ship. Some of the wood was used for the boat. I used bamboo for the bottom, because it's hollow and floats easily. The rest of the boat I made with wood sealed with plaster, inside and out. The mast was made out of leaves sewn together with thread. My cabin had pictures on the walls, a wooden bed and a dresser with a mirror in it. I made a big dog house on the top deck for Wolf and Fred. All together it had taken me five months to build and I was mighty proud. But still, I had to get a lot of food to fill the "cellar" of the boat.

A month later it was filled, plus I had some animal skins to wear as clothes. Strange to say, but Wolf was a vegetarian. Once I have her a rabbit foot, but she stared at it. So, later I's give her a baked carrot and she gobbles it up like a boar! Ma loved carrots. After I greeted her, I'd hug her when she acted like Ma. Her fur got wet wit' tears and she licked my face and laid down to sleep. I finally found out why she was that way. When I had first seen her, she had seen that I was like Fred. She had brought Fred that way, to compare us, then she adopted me as her pup.

Good-bye...

Finally, it was the day to go to the North. I had packed everything, made sure there were no holes, cracks, etc. Then I herded Wolf and Fred into the boat, got over to the ship's wheel and unrolled the mast. Like a faithful crew, they waited for instructions from their captain. I couldn't help it but to smile. Then my thoughts went back, back to a time when I was six. It was when our masters were moving and taking us wit' them. I had felt scared but happy, too. They had a little boy, a couple years younger than I's. He used to boss me around. Like I was his slave (which I was). He was a wicked boy, who used to deceive his parents by making me not tell them when he did something bad. I mean he really made me and if I didn't do what he told me to do, he would call his parents and have them beat me.

I hated those people. I really hated them. Papa used to defend me, but they just beat him more than I and that started a quarrel, so we all got whipped. Yeah, we escaped them tyrants. The police got us and took us back, but they didn't want us anymore, they had bought new slaves. So, someone else bought us, so that was the end of my remembrance.

Well, back to our story. There was Wolf and Fred a sittin' there waitin' fer my command. I started steerin' the boat away from land. I looked at Fred, lookin' at some fish in the sea. He was a grown-up wolf now!

I couldn't believe I was at sea! Me! Bill Frank Taylor! A twelve-year-old that built his own boat (with some wolves' help). As our boat glided farther and farther away, I remembered something, Ma's cloak! I had to go back fer it. I started to turn the boat around, but I saw another boat near the land! "Forget about the cloak, get outta here," I remember thinking that night.

I had to take the long way, around the land. A few hours later we landed wit' a thump! We got out and began t' run into t' woods. As we came out of the woods I was met by the white men! Suddenly, Wolf jumped in front of me and started a growlin' and a snarlin' at them, but this time he doesn't give up. Fred is beside him, lookin' meaner than ever, showin' his huge teeth to the people. They start sayin' things like "nice doggie." Then, much to our relief, they up and left. Back in the sea again, I look out across the horizon towards the land. I say "Good-bye."

Chief Red Feather...

We traveled for many days and nights. At least we weren't all crammed in that little ole canoe. We were miles and miles away from any civilization, any kind. But as I looked out across the sea I saw a canoe skimmin' across the water. Oh no! Indians. But wait, I've heard about whites and Indians--what about blacks and Indians? I decided to meet those red-skins and make friends wit' em.

As I docked the boat and we got out, an Indian came up to me. He started speaking to me in their funny way, seeming mad and confused. I tried to calm him down by trying to draw a picture story in the sand. Finally, he saw what I was drawing and calmed down. He studied the pictures of wolves and pointed to them. He studied the picture of me, and looked at me. He then studied the picture of the land and pointed far off into the distance. "Me know" he said and put out his hand. I put my hand in his hand and we were friends from then on. His name was Little Feather and he was the son of Chief Red Feather. Little Feather took me to see his father. The Chief looked me up and down. Soon I was his new son, Blue Sky. I had picked that name.

The Chief's wife's name was Little Deer. She like me and protected me like her own son. I decided to stay wit' the Indians, to learn their ways of life, to learn their language. They weren't savages at all. The white men were more savage. So, my mind was made up. I was stayin' wit' the Indians. Hail to Chief Red Feather and his tribe, the Wakashi! Soon the tribe would be going North, to the sun, to do the sun dance with their neighbors, the Sherina (a peaceful tribe like the Wakashi). I's began to love the Indians like a new family. It seemed like the Chief was my father, his wife like my mother and his son like my brother. I found friends among the tribe and the Sherina.

The Valley of the Spirits...

A few days after the dance we went to a valley to worship the spirits. As soon as I saw the valley I felt a shiver down me achin' spine. There were caverns and mountains, rivers and lakes, peaks and points almost everywhere. But most beautiful of all were the trees. There was a grand forest, huge waterfalls and a great rock, a mile up. I tried to climb that great rock, then, but of course I didn't make it.

This valley is now a park, a famous park, this is now Yellowstone National Park. There, at the foot of the rock is where the Wakashi Indian tribe worshipped the great spirits, the Sun God, the Rain God, the Animal God, the Plant God, the Sky God, the Wood God, the Buffalo God, the Soil God, the Tree God, the Sea God the God of Caves, the spirits of the Old People, the Spirits of the Young People, and the Spirits of their Ancestors.

It took three days and two nights to worship all of those gods, and they made me do it wit' em. Gosh, that was the one day I had wished that I had never met those Indians. They had called Yellowstone "The Valley of the Spirits." I hated to leave my friends, but I was on a mission. I had to leave.

The North...

After many moons of traveling I realized I was in the North! It wasn't anything I had dreamed of. It wasn't as bad as what they had told me. They had told me that war would be everywhere. "I AM IN THE NORTH, MY GOD!!"

I couldn't believe my own thoughts. I finally came to my senses and bought a horse and named him Bandit. One day he was drinking water at a lake and I heard some rustles in the bushes near by. I kicked Bandits' belly and we speed away. I rode toward our camp ground near the Spirit rock, I had heard galloping behind me. The Indians jumped as I came striding up, on my horse!

"What is wrong, my young boy?" I was surprised when Chief Red Feather patted my shoulder and picked up a large rock that I had seen him use since I had come to the Indian camp. "It has been, as you would call it, a long time," said Chief Red Feather. "You shall go on your vision path for you shall be thirteen winters soon." I knelt on my knees and bowed my head.

"I will follow the coyote Sun through the desert, the forest and the rain to serve you.

Chief Red Feather put his hand on my head. "To serve yourself and no other."

Coyote Sun...

As I lifted my head and saw Chief Red Feather's face shinning bright in from the Coyote Sun, I's knew what I's wanted to be. "When shall I leave, my Chief?"

"When there is a blue moon in the sky."

"What is the blue moon?"

"The blue moon is when the great spirits turn into clouds and tickle the moon until it becomes blue full of laughter and fun."

"Why blue?"

"Brother Moon is related to Brother Sea, so Brother Moon is blue, but only once does he become so blue that you can see him."

Then I got an overflow of happiness, all of a sudden. I was going to stay with my friends once again. I got up and hugged Wolf tightly around the neck. He gently growled and licked my cheek. "It's gonna be a long trip, yas hear." He made a little noise and laid his head on my shoulder as if he understood.

The Tundra Cavern...

That night I had a dream. I was in a cavern, a dusty cavern with old things covered with spider webs all over 'em. Then all o' a sudden, a huge snake come a slitherin' up to me. It's big ole tongue a stickin' out, as if 'e was a tastin' me. I didn't know what to do, so I's threw a stick at 'im a hopin' tha' it would scare 'im away.

There shall be a blue moon in one week, the Great Spirits told me. I's opened m' eyes just a crack, but still, the light came a floodin' through. I found myself blinkin' into bright light which flooded in from the teepee opening as an unknown girl came in. She was in rags, with a worn out light blue sun bonnet on 'er dark head. As she turned around to shut the teepee flap, I's noticed whip marks on 'er pink dress. She looked up.

"Were ya a slave?" I kinda rudely asked. Her dark sorrowful brown eyes fell on me and I regretted askin'.

"Yes," was the short reply. There was al long moment o' silence. She looked up to the ceiling of the small teepee. I looked up too.

"What do you see?" I asked in a whisper.

"The moon and the sun and all of the Great Spirit's creatures?"

"Where did you come from?"

"You wouldn't know; where'd you?"

"You wouldn't know."

Crickets...

The sun set behind the trees, ablaze in fire. I sighed. The girl's name was Angie. It turns out that she had escaped from the South, too.

Me an' Angie soon became good friends. We were the only two dark folks in the camp. Angie was shy. She had been beaten and beaten until she learned to keep quiet. I's was mighty sorry for her, being beaten an' all.

I was nearing my 15th birthday. I would become a hunter soon and go on a buffalo hunt in January. After the hunt I shall eat with Angie, then she will become my wife. I was might scared, hunting and all. I had been with the Indians for three years!! Angie 'n' me planned to stay with the Indians.

I wondered sometimes, as I cleaned my spears, what m' ma would think. As I lay in my teepee, I think of her, probably picking cotton, her hands sore. She is probably singing an old folk song, her deep brown eyes filled with tears, as she is whipped for being slow. My own eyes filled with tears, which Angie wiped away. "A brave hunter mustn't cry!" I smiled and hugged her. Crickets chirped in the distance.

Buffalo...

That morn I had to go a huntin' Buffalo. I jumped on Chip, my new mare. It was near 2 o'clock when we left. I's felt brave, sittin' on Chips' back. I kicked 'er flanks with the heal of m' moccasin. We were off! My partner and I knew just where to find buffalo. We had seen the droppings and the tracks of a herd of about 5 or 600. It was a good sign, those fresh tracks. We only had to go about a mile until we saw them. Not alive - dead. All dead. They were covered with flies. They had no skin on their bodies, just fat hangin' loose. And it smelled horrible. Only one was alive. A newborn calf.

I jumps off me horse. Me knife in hand, as I cut the cord o t' newborn. Wolf dried him off, named him Boggles and adopted 'im as 'is own. They were inseparable and I's got me' buffalo - a big ole bull a mile away.

My wife - my Angie...

It was 12 o'clock when I returned to our teepee. We were joined, then we ate. I realized that I was a man, a full grown man, with a wonderful wife. My dreams were realized and life was beautiful - Angie was beautiful. Days, nights, weeks, months passed, all joyful. Then, one day she told me the marvelous news. She was going to have a baby. My mouth hung open as my heart exploded. Happiness surrounded me. I picked her up and I whirled her around gently.

That night we discussed names and agreed that if it was a boy - Frank William. If it was a girl - Bethany Angeline-Marie. We also decided that it was time to leave the tribe and set up a cabin in Yellowstone, where I had been as a boy.

Bethany Angeline-Marie...

We traveled for many moons. When we finally arrived, I noticed a strange look on Angie's face and asked "Why are you worrying?"

"Because I'm so happy" was her reply. "It's just so beautiful and I realized we're really free!!"

"We are? How'd you find out?" I asked.

"A man came to the camp a week ago, just before we left."

"Why didn't you tell me?" "Because I was afraid - afraid that it wasn't true."

"So you're sayin' the war's over? The North won? Yippee!"

Angie yelled out. I stopped me gibber gabber and realized that Angie went into labor because of the excitement.

I's took 'er to a soft spot and laid down m' buffalo hide. Wolf 'n' Fred 'n' Boggles (the buffalo) came to our side. Twelve hours and 24 minutes later, she was born, at 12:24 pm, August 12, 1868. Her name was Bethany Angeline-Marie Taylor. We was the happiest family on earth.

We set up camp in the cliffs of the great forest. We were warm inside our large and cozy cave where we had a fire going. It was raining, but our small family was dry and happy. We intended to stay that way, and we did.

Mommy & Daddy...

I was eighteen when Bethany was born; Angie was eighteen, too. When Bethany was one and a half she said "Daddy!" When she was two she said "Daddy, Mommy, Wolf, Bobbog, Fred!" She was quite intelligent for her tender age. She was walkin', and of course, as every parent knows, with walkin' comes trouble, and she had plenty of that in her terrible twos.

For our 5th anniversary of marriage, we had a special dinner of chicken and olives, in our newly built cabin. In most families, the woman cooks, but in this family we both cooked. Not to brag, but I am a fairly good cook; so is Angie.

A Visitor...

One day as I looked out across the lake, as the sun went down, I noticed someone. Someone in the woods. I grabbed me rifle an' plodded off to git that prowler. It was a man dressed in gray rags. He had hazel eyes, a worn out red 'n' white striped shirt. His feet were bare, his hair a dusty brown. His whole body was covered with dried mud, and his torn hat had dust all over it. I pointed me rifle. He spit on the ground, 'cause he had been chewing tobbaca. "All right, stick 'em up," I says. He raised his hand sluggishly.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"That is not of any importance." "What were ya's doin' behind m' cabin?"

"I was hungry, I was gonna ask ya all if I could have some o' that chicken o' yours."

"No, ya was gonna steal from us." "No I's wasn't!"

"Well, if ya's weren't, ya's can have one." I gave him one.

A Doe and a Fawn...

One week after we had our "visitor" we had two more! But this time they were not human. They were deer, a doe and a fawn - the doe was wounded.

There was blood everywhere, especially on her leg, where she had been wounded by a mountain lion. The doe and her fawn had wobbled into our property on a rainy night in December, two days before Christmas. We found them huddled close to the fireplace (where we were having a fire). On the next morning we found them and brought them in to clean them up. We dressed the doe's wound and fed both of them. We named the fawn Christmas and the doe Coco, because he like hot cocoa.

Christmas came, and with it came warm tender happiness and family forgiving. Angie gave me a new knife, which she made herself. I gave her a needle and thread, an' eight yards of the finest silk (which I had t' go into town and trade two chickens for). And the best present of all was each other's love. Bethany got a wooden rocking horse. Wolf and Fred got cooked carrots, Bobbles got fresh prairie grass, and so did Christmas and Coco.

Attack!!

One night in February we heard something on top of the roof. Prowling, sneakin' and tryin' to rip shingles off o' the roof. I grabbed me rusty rifle an' cautiously peaked out the window. Nothing. A growl! A hiss! I cautiously motioned to Angie to take Bethany into the bed room. Wolf and Fred were at my side.

I decided to look outside once more then, a huge eye meets mine. A huge paw with four sharp claws swipes against the window, makin' a screechin' sound. A mouth as big as one of our big fat pillows shows itself, blood red, filled with gleaming white teeth as sharp as knives.

As big as a pillow; that's it! I get a pillow, as soon as t' glass is shattered. The mouth reveals itself again - now's my chance! I shove the giant pillow down it's throat, cuttin' off it's air circulation. It died.

I looked around. Wolf an' Fred were gone. My home was gone. All that was there was light. Then a man appears. He has a white beard and is an Indian, but he's a spirit. The spirit of the mountain lion I just killed. He spoke; "It is time for you to go on your vision path, Blue Sky."

A Dream Comes True!!

Light, light was everywhere! My eyes blurred an' I was in a house. Somehow I recognized it. I seemed to vaguely remember. Then it hit me. Seven years before, when I was thirteen. Right before Angie woke me up. Then, this time there was no snake, but it was the same place, I was positive. But, before my dream I had remembered it. Flashbacks came back to me:

A child,

A boy,

Me!

A house,

A shack,

This house!

A man,

A father,

My father,

A woman,

My mother,

But,

I was a baby,

My mother was rocking me;

Rockabye Baby

In the treetop,

When the bow breaks,

The cradle will fall,

And down will come baby,

Cradle,

And all .....

My remembrance faded. I dug around in shadows and holes and finally found two pictures, a picture of my father. His words softly spoke to me, I closed my eyes and he was there, with me. He patted my shoulder and gave me his old pocket watch and said, "Beauty exists only in the heart." And he was gone.

My eyes were still closed. When I opened them he was gone, but when I closed them again my mother appeared. She kissed me on the cheek and gave me her cloak that I had forgotten that day and said, "Love will lead you to us."

I opened my eyes and I was in our cabin with Angie next to me. The cloak and pocket watch were still in my hands.

I Follow my Heart...

"Angie! I have to go, I have to go quick!"

"Hold on, hold on, tell me why?" So I told her, I told her everything. She smiled "If you have to go, then take us with you."

"Angie, we can't take Bethany."

She sighed "For once you're making sense." "It's been a long night, let's decide in the morning." So she and Bethany climbed into bed, and an hour later, I went to bed.

The morning was bright, and I had a plan. The journey was long, so we had to hurry, because I felt that my mother was in great danger. I took Chip and Bethany to Chief Red Feather and she stayed there as long as Angie and me were on our trip.

I had followed my heart to Chief Red Feather, now I had to follow it to Ma.


A Message...

The day was hot, it was the tenth day of my journey. On and on and on went the desert, it seemed as if it would never end. Angie thought so too.

Good thing we had brought enough food to last half a year. But, carrying all o' that food did have it's disadvantages. First of all, it was heavy. Second of all, two 24-year-olds couldn't eat that fast, so it didn't go as quickly as we wanted it to. But, on the 12th day, a message came. I was sleeping and my mother appeared. "Look for life and follow it to me," she said. So, in the morning I discovered that I was sleeping on a trail of ants. Angie was going to stomp on one, but I stopped her.

"Angie, this is a sign of life in the desert, my mother told me to follow my heart; let's follow the ants." So we did.

Guards...

Finally we came to a large building. It was dark gray like smoke. It had no windows, just bars. It did not look inviting. We played it by ear and came to two large men. Guards, I suspected. I was right!

"Who are you?" one of the gruff guards asked. I had to thinks. "Haven't ya heard, I'm yas new slave, 'n' wife." "We didn't order any new slaves, did we George?" "Duh, I don't know." "Well, we keep all slaves in the dungeon, come with us. So, we followed them down a dark passage way, just as dark as the outside. Suddenly, we were thrown into a small, dreary dungeon, with an old woman.

Ma!!

That old woman, sittin' there, was not just any old woman, it was Ma! But I's didn't know that. Me being so outward with things, asked the old woman how she came to be in this dungeon. She said that she used to be a slave, but when the North won the war, they threw her in here so she wouldn't be discovered when the building was inspected for slaves. "Uh" I said. I introduced myself and Angie and she said that she used to have a son named William, but he died. I said that me Ma and Pa died too.

She put her old, wrinkled hand in mine and said, "Pleased to' meet ya, William an' Angie." She hugged Angie. "I am Sarah"

"Sarah what?" I asked.

"Sarah Louise Taylor," she said proudly. That was my mother's name.

"What's your husband's name?" I asked her with a kinda shaky voice, wantin' t' hear the old woman answer.

"Frederick Jacob Taylor."

"And what is yer dead son's name? "

Her eyes were sorrowful. "William Frank Taylor."

I burst out cryin', as I hugged the old woman. "It's me, ma!" For a long while we sat, just cryin' and blurtin' out things that we remembered from the ol' days, "remember that quilt ya made that fell apart two days after ya made it," was one of the things I blurted out. I had followed my heart to her, and here she was!

Use Your Brain...

On the second day, we saw Pa. We all knew that Pa was dead, but there he was, just as I had saw him before, but this time, I wasn't alone. This time, like the last, he spoke to us and gave us a clue. He said, "use your brain, and see the number that I carved on 24 stones!"

So, we looked and looked in the deepest, darkest corner in the dungeon and we saw them. The numbers 1 through 24 all scrambled up like. We pushed them in one at a time, in the 1, 2, order and we were astonished.

Free at last...

The desert was before us. Dust blew wildly over the sand dunes. The sky was gray, for it was filled with dust and grains of sand. It was a muggy day. It was not hot, nor was it cold. But yet, we shivered at the sight.

"Yippee!!" We yelled, until silence fell upon us. For we had t' be quiet, so as the guards wouldn't hear us a yellin' and a screamin'. Carefully, we's escaped of the dungeon through a window Ma had been prying at for years and we's crept into the desert. Then I had a plan. We used our coats that were soaked with the dampness of the dungeon. Then we buried 'em in the desert sand. We's put 'em on an' crawled through the desert. We was movin' quickly. Pretty soon we was free! Free at last!

First, we went to the Indian village and introduced Ma to Bethany and the whole tribe. Everybody was very happy. The Indians made Ma some moccasins and a shawl. Bethany had her own moccasins, leggings, and front piece. The tribe did a reunion dance, and my "two mothers," (Little Deer and Ma) exchanged notes about me and Ma taught Little Deer to make quilts. They started making one. Altogether, we stayed one month at the Indian camp.

Chief Red Feather, Little Feather, and Little Deer took us all on a canoeing trip down the Mississippi River. It was quite pretty in the night time, the moon shinin' bright, the stars winkin'.

A Sand Crab...

We were sad to leave, but the time had come to return to our home. Our shadows stretched across the forest. A stream gurgled happily, as if to say "Hello, welcome back!" Then, we's came to our cabin. It was as good as we had left it, four months ago.

Once inside, Ma sat down and said "Bill - I've been thinkin', maybe, well maybe I should live wit' t' Injuns, ya know, fer jest awhile." "I understand, Ma" I said.

So a few weeks later we was ready to go on the trip back. When we were close to the camp, Ma said she wanted us to part right there. Good-byes are hard on everyone. She dug in the sand by the stream, and held out a tiny sand crab. "This, my dear, is a sand crab, it is a symbol of our adventure. Each plat on it's back means one adventure." And, with those words, she was gone. But, the crab was there, burrowin' itself back into the sand.

That was the last time I saw my Ma. We all noticed something different with the stream from then on. You can always see a woman in the water. A woman with black hair, brown skin, and a big smile always on her old face; my mother. Sarah Louise Taylor was a great woman. And I hope that she will always be remembered for her kindness, and love for all living; creatures on this earth.

Now to end our Story...

Ma died December 12, 1874; I was 24, Ma was 42. Pa would have been 52. Wolf was 18 years and Fred was 12. Angie died when she was 58. I'm sorry to say, but Bethany died of the fever when she was only 12. Wolf lived to be the ripe old age of 20 (quite old for a wolf). Fred lived to be 18. They were all buried in Yellow Stone, next to what used to be our cabin. I's often go there, to see 'em all in the stream, all smilin' at me. Sometimes, I's want to be with them, but my day will come soon enough.

William Frank Taylor died at exactly 100 years old. We all love him and cherish this book dedicating to all of those who, like William, have made a difference in this world.

What's Beyond the Mountains?

"What's beyond the mountains?"

"The sea. Love, hate, peace, war - EVERYTHING!!

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©1994 Maricel Peña


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