THE MOUNTAIN
TOP
As Stewart was quietly fixing breakfast, he could hear Michael restlessly stirring, attempting to find a comfortable position. “How is your leg this morning?”
I don’t know if it hurts less or if I am just getting used to the pain. Any position hurts after a little while.”
“Breakfast is about ready. You are awake earlier than the first few days.”
“That’s why I’m awake. How could I sleep with the smell of your biscuits, ham and coffee? I think I am getting more rested, too. I wish I could go hunting with you today.”
“I wish you could go too. I’m sure there are some things you could show me about mountain living.”
“For a flatlander you are doing all right. Besides, I am in no condition to complain. Where did you learn your doctor’n?”
“On the farm, we had to learn to take care of almost any emergency on our own. If we could get a doctor or a vet, by the time they would get there, we pretty much had to have the situation under control.”
The two enjoyed each other’s company. Stewart had, as yet, not even learned Michael’s last name. There had not been much time to talk at first. Michael spent most of the day either sleeping or eating light meals, when he was awake. When Stewart was not cooking, cleaning or caring for Michael, he was spending his free time learning to hunt and trap. He had no choice. His life and another’s depended upon his ability to learn survival. Oh, he had hunted rabbits and birds on the farm, but that was recreational compared to hunting larger game in the mountains. Down below, he never had to worry about becoming the hunted.
Michael told Stewart how to make biscuits right in the top of the flour sack. He added the egg and mixed the ingredients until the mixture had the right consistency. He placed the lump on the cutting board to roll it out into noodles or biscuits. Michael was enjoying Stewart’s cooking. He was also enjoying seeing the growth in Stewart. Michael loved seeing people motivated toward growth and learning just for the sake of enlightenment.
Stewart was beginning to gain some momentum in the management of daily tasks. He felt he could even coast a little now. He had put some game away and now did not have to spend all his waking hours finding and preparing food or caring for Michael. He even found time and energy after the chores were finished each day, while Michael was sleeping, to begin reading some of Michael’s book collection.
Although they had not had much time to talk, Stewart was amazed how quickly Michael could get to the heart of the matter in conversation. Stewart was musing, while the biscuits were baking, how he looked forward to the moments when he had all his chores done and he could steal a few moments to converse with Michael. Stewart had never known a person with so many thoughts – thoughts that made Stewart’s ears warm from thinking.
As they were finding more time to talk, the conversations seemed to have a great impact upon Stewart. Their congeniality was a combination of several factors. Michael had been alone for some time. Stewart did not know exactly why Michael lived alone.
Michael had obviously experienced much in his life and had time to think. Stewart had not been around an older person who had the time to just talk. Back on the farm, he knew his dad and gramps had many deep thoughts, too. But they did not have a lot of time to talk on the farm. He could remember when there would have been time to talk, it was better spent sleeping.
Stewart, even though he worked as hard as the older men, seemed to have a little energy left for reading at the end of the day. He read whatever he could get his hands on – which was more limited than he liked. Michael had a surprising number of books. From the appearance of the collection, they had been well read and had probably gone through some jostling to get them to the cabin.
Another factor that seemed to add to their growing relationship was the total dependence Michael felt for Stewart. He did not feel a sense of the dependency so much as a humbling feeling of being placed in the position of allowing another person to do the necessities he had always done for himself. For Stewart the feeling was like a type of bonding a doctor might feel for a patient. Stewart had never been in a position in which another person totally depended upon him.
Stewart did not mind being needed. He thought how he would have chosen to not be here with a stranger, if he had a choice, serving his needs and not being able to leave. He would have chosen to be closer to Wellspring by now, ready to get settled, meet new people and find opportunities.
He became philosophic about the situation and wondered how many of life’s circumstances which are chosen for us are better than the choices we might have made for ourselves. He would not have known Michael. He also felt that he had to grow more from the unexpected experience in a few short weeks than he had previously in his whole life.
When breakfast was ready, Stewart placed the plate and flat ware on a board and took them to Michael’s bed. He liked to eat with Michael and see the old man enjoying the fruits of his labors. “If it rains or looks like rain today, I will be back early.”
“That would be good. You could get lost or sick in a heavy storm. Besides you’re getting the food supply back up to normal.”
Stewart enjoyed the mountain air and gathering from the earth without having to plant or harvest. As he walked, he thought back on the hard work of farm life. He could also remember how he and his family had labored too hard to make things work. He was glad his younger brother Nathaniel could take over for him while he chose to try a different life. In spite of the endless toil and hardship, Stewart missed the family. He also had a habit of mostly remembering only good things about a situation. He still had to remind himself that he missed Gramps because he had died, rather than just being home with the others.
While he was musing, he noticed the mountains seemed to take on a different appearance today. The rain clouds had always been welcome on the farm, outside of planting and harvesting time. Up here, they seemed to hover as a black menacing veil that at any time could release their burden. In spite of the awesome beauty of the clouds and the ruggedness of the mountains, the elements today were depressing. Stewart’s thoughts bounced from good times on the farm to the warm fire and pleasant company waiting for him back at Michael’s cabin.
Mountain life was hard in a different way. The actual work was not as long and tedious as farm work. There was a variety of tasks, none of which took all day long like planting and harvesting, but still had to be done. There were no neighbors up here to rely upon and no store to run to for food or any other necessities.
Last week he had to butcher a deer. After hanging the meat to age for a couple of days, it either had to be smoked or made into jerky. He had to stick with the task until it was completed or the meat would be lost. He was glad there was not as much meat as there was in butchering a full grown steer. At least with the steer, there were several people working on the project. There were more options with the steer in what could be done with the meat, too.
All of a sudden the dark rolling clouds began to pour down rain. Stewart had to decide whether to find a temporary shelter or attempt to get back to the cabin. If he got soaked, he would need the fire to prevent the chills. He moved in under a pine tree with heavy foliage. Close to the trunk, the rain was not yet reaching the ground. Rather, it was deflecting off the upper branches.
If Stewart stood in the right place, he only had to dodge a couple of trickles running down near him. As soon as he had time to position himself, the rain turned to a mix of rain and sleet. The rocks were becoming covered with a thin layer of ice. Walking on the ground would be safe, except where he had to climb through a small rock ledge.
While waiting Stewart thought how life in the mountains was dependent upon sacrifice. The animals ate grass, roots berries or smaller animals. If man lived there, he had to live on mostly animals, especially during the winter. Except for a little stronger taste, a leaner composition, and fewer trimmings, the food was really not much different than the food on the farm. However, on the farm, the animals were raised for the purpose of supplying man. Up here only the unfortunate animals supplied the needs of man or other animals.
Whichever way one chose to live, life depended upon death. The animals did not seem to mind belonging to the food chain as long as they were the predator and not the prey. With that thought he noticed the sleet had stopped and the rain was diminishing. He hoped by the time he reached the pass, the rocks would be clear of ice. He decided not to be one of the eaten.
As he inched his way along the trail, the rain stopped altogether. The sun began to peek through the clouds. That’s the way it was in the mountains. One minute the sun was shining. The next it was raining and icy. Then the sun came out again. Stewart could see the rocks standing out in the sunlight. By the time he reached them they were almost dry. As he held on to the upper rocks and looked down at the narrow footing and shear rock face below, he was extremely thankful the rain had stopped and the thin ice had melted. He climbed through with relative ease.
As he entered the cabin, he could see Michael was asleep. He stirred the fire and added more wood, and Michael awoke. “I am glad you’re back. I honesty became worried when I heard the sleet hitting the cabin roof.”
“I was all right. I found a tree with good ground cover. I only suffered a few drips.”
“You are learning these mountains well.”
Stewart agreed, “I am starting to feel pretty comfortable up here.”
“You want to be careful about getting too comfortable. Just when you get overconfident, something happens to set you back. Like this weather, fortunes can change in an instant.”
Stewart responded, “My fortunes changed when I met you on the trail.”
“So did mine – not just the fact that you saved my life, but you are helping me get though the autumn. This is the only time I get lonely. The dark clouds remind me winter is not far behind.”
Stewart added, “I didn’t mind winter on the farm. There were still things that needed to be done. We kept busy, but it seemed we were forced to be inside and together more during the winter. We found more time to read by a cozy fire.”
Michael responded, “Oh, I don’t mind the winter up here, if I have plenty of food and firewood. It’s just these days when leaves have already changed color and begin to fall. Everything looks like death.”
“Gramps always said, “Winter is not as bad as the anticipation of it.’”
“You know,” said Michael, pensively, “That’s true of most of what life deals us.”
“Yeah, once winter gets here, the snow makes things seem secure. You don’t have to worry about being somewhere else or doing something else. You couldn’t if you wanted to. Even the animals that hibernate have no choice in the matter.”
Stewart continued, “The snow on the farm reminded me of an egg shell – secure but within a delicate balance – vulnerable. We had already been through the depressing days of fall, after the harvest. The snow would then come and seal everything in, but you knew under the snow cover, life was beginning to form and would soon be out for the next year.”
“I like that,” responded Michael.
“Fall comes sooner and more drastically up here, doesn’t it? asked Stewart.
“Did you say you had been up here four years?”
“Yep, give or take a season or two.”
“You seem to like to talk to people. What would have ever brought you up here to live alone?”
“Well son, it’s a long story. I thought I would have forgotten about it. I guess I just tried to keep the situation out of my thoughts. It looks like we have time as the weather is only getting worse. I uh, once killed a man.”
Stewart tried to conceal his surprised look.
“I didn’t come up here to escape from the law. There was no way I could have ever been blamed for it. I was the only one who could have known. I guess I came up here as a kind of self-imposed exile.
“At first, I just did not want to be around any people at all – not after what this man did to me. Then my feelings turned to guilt of not being able to forgive him or myself for my reactions. I had always talked about love and forgiveness, and did the opposite. I was shocked that I could lose control. I felt like a hypocrite.”
Stewart inquired, “You are not hiding from people now are you?”
“In the last few years, I have not been here to hide. I have just become accustomed to living here.”
“Don’t you miss people?”
“I didn’t think so, but after having your company, I am beginning to wonder how it will be when you leave.”
“Who was this man? What did he do to you?”
“Whoa, one thing at a time. He was my brother.”
“How did you kill him?”
“I beat him to death with a pick. That’s where the story begins. We were partners in a mining operation. We were not equal partners, though because he had been the first to come into the mountains. Gold had already been pretty well played-out. We decided to go after silver. It gained no value until the gold was gone. He staked the claim and worked it by himself for three years before he finally struck enough silver to support himself and others. I was working construction in St. Louis when he sent for me.
“When he struck silver he didn’t have time to dig, process and transport it. He sent for me and told me I could be a partner at sixty percent for him and forty percent for me. I thought that arrangement would work well for me since he had sold his horses to buy his mule, pick, shovel and supplies”
“I had my wagon from our parents’ estate. We didn’t get much else. We lost the farm because of poor crops and debt. When I first started working with him, things worked pretty well. We were doing so well he had to start hiring extra help – mostly drifters coming through who needed to find temporary work while attempting to stake their own claim or make their way to Wellspring.
“One small thing I noticed early, however, began to bother me. When he wanted somebody to do something, he would not ask. He would simply say, ‘Get some supplies.’ Or ‘Take the load to town today.’ He never said, ‘Please’ or ‘thank you.’
“Dad was never that way. He was always nice to people whether they worked for him or not. I guess he believed that just because he paid somebody for their time did not mean he owned them or gave him the right to be rude.
“I could overlook the fact that my brother did not act like Dad. Things went along pretty well until we started getting successful. We had to build our smelter and begin adding more workers. It was one of the first wood-fired smelters up here. I covered the labor and he paid for material expenses for building the smelter as I did most of the work myself. That was fair enough.
“The problem surfaced in the way he began to act. When the two of us were working alone, he would joke and seemed at ease. When other employees were around, he seemed overly concerned about his image. It was like he wanted to demonstrate that he was superior to them and to me. If he truly felt he was superior, why did he have to go to such lengths to impress them with his money and power?
“I began to notice myself laughing nervously when he told me to do something. I did not know how to direct his commands, which should have been requests. He began to take greater efforts to impress others. He spent so much money on things we did not need, but things that would make him look or feel good. He liked new horses, exotic guns, gold ornaments and trips. No matter how much we produced, he was never satisfied. He was also getting pretty heavy into gambling and drinking. I think he was under pressure financially, too. He was using his money to build his town in his own image.
“I was able to stand it because he was gone more than half of the time. I also had my trips to get the silver to the depot in Junction. He would go to Wellspring or back to Denver, gambling – betting on horses and playing the cards. He also liked to impress naive young men who thought if they came out to work for him they might experience the same fortunes.
“He finally sent for his wife, Patricia and their daughter Victoria. That was when he really went overboard. He built them a new house and included a lot of things that were not necessary for the survival of their workers and their families. He wanted them anyway. Patricia was not demanding and did not require fancy things.
“I think he felt he needed to impress her. He built the church and went overboard, not so much out of reverence, but to gain her approval. There was no need for such a fancy cathedral way up here. He might have been attempting to buy his way into heaven. I always knew he did not really know her or other people. Most of all, he did not know himself.
“He wanted too much too fast. The longer I think about the ordeal, the more I realize he wanted the town to be a monument to himself, the town in the mountain wilderness he built with his own two hands.
“History was being written and he wanted to be part of it. The more powerful he became the more self-respect he attempted to demonstrate. It occurred to me, if a person truly has self-respect, he does not have to use all his energy to convince himself.
Stewart agreed, “That is true. I had never thought about it that way.”
“He was beginning to look at me with suspicion. I think he could perceive that I saw through his act. After he brought Patricia, he stayed around all the time. I decided to get some space between us, so I went and joined Teddy and the Roughriders. I’ll tell you more about that later.
“Before I left, we had an agreement. Since I had some equity in the smelter and built my own house, I would not lose any of the partnership. He tried to please Patricia, but love must have been blind. She either could not see his major flaws or refused to face the facts. She also kept out of the business, so she did not see how he treated people or managed the money. While I was gone, he lost Patricia to the flu that went around that winter. He sent Victoria back east to live with Patricia’s sister Whitney and go to finishing school.
“When I returned, it became unbearable to be around him. He had to decide while I was gone whether he wanted to continue being a prospector or find an investor and become a miner. We would have to upgrade my wood-fired smelter to coal. That would require capital and a connection to the railroad. Both had their advantages, but he had to decide whether to remain autonomous and pick at the earth or get an investor and harvest the rich ore. He found an investor in Wellspring.
“I think he did not like the fact that anybody else owned even a small portion of the town. He and his investor were more like-mined than he and I. He thought he could someday buy out his investor. He could also perceive that I was not as easily impressed by his power trip, and after the war, I was less dependent than before.
“We had a shipment that needed to go to Junction. The railroad was not connected to town, so I was still taking shipments by wagon. On the way, I had a breakdown. My wagon wheel broke under the weight of the silver. While I was trying to fix it some highwaymen came by and pistol-whipped me. They took all the silver they could carry on their horses and the mules from the wagon.
“I lay there for three days, unconscious. A couple of hikers came through and found me. They said a deer was standing over me licking the wounds. It appeared that maggots had begun eating the infection on my scalp. The deer then licked the maggots off.
Stewart said, “Wow! You have been saved on the trail twice. The first time men put you there and nature saved you. This time, nature put you there and a man found you.”
“That’s true. I hid the remaining silver in the woods and tried to cover the broken wagon. Since I was closer to Junction, I walked in. When I got there, I wired my brother to get some money to pay my doctor bills, find a wagon and some mules, and get some supplies to return. His response was, ‘That is not my problem. You were responsible for the silver.’
“I don’t know if he thought I cheated him and kept his share of the money or if he was simply looking for a way to legally eliminate me as a partner. I had to find work in Junction as a contractor to get enough money to eat and obtain lodging. My expenses and doctor bills took everything I made for about three months.
Stewart sat listening, totally absorbed in the story. As Michael took a moment to rest and organize his thoughts, Stewart asked, “You don’t think he sent the highwaymen to sabotage you, do you?”
“I have thought that myself, but I still choose to believe he didn’t.”
“Did you get back to the town? What town was it?”
“The town was Discovery. I had written several times to reason with him, so he had my address. He even sent me a bill for his sixty percent of the silver shipment. I reasoned that if we suffered a loss, there were no profits and we were supposed to both take the loss. He sent one other letter, stating, ‘Your services are no longer needed.’
“Finally, I was able to get enough supplies for my return trip and pay the doctor’s bills. I was able to buy Clementine. I just wanted to get back and claim what was mine, so I gave up on replacing the wagon and getting a second mule. I wanted to talk to him when I returned. I was still willing to forgive him and work with him if he could explain his attitude.
“When I returned, he had repossessed my house and told people I had abandoned him with a shipment of silver. He was conveniently out of town and would return in a few days. The cheating, I could forgive. The lying to me and about me, I could forgive. The fact that he would not reason with me was more than I could bear. I felt my nostrils flare. My fists clinched. I could think of nothing else. I seemed obsessed with what I was about to do.
“I remember waiting. Revenge was the only thing that kept me alive. I lived to kill him. It was dark. I was in the office. I heard his footsteps and hid behind the door. I felt the handle of the pick and lifted it. He saw me. I swung and scored only a glancing below. Then, sweet vengeance, he was alive and able to beg. I now had the final say. I lifted the pick and sent it and him home for good.
“Why did you say earlier you were never concerned about being found out? Didn’t anybody see you when you were in town? Couldn’t somebody piece the clues together? Were there more people who had as much reason to kill him as you did?”
Michael smiled, “Slow down, boy. You ought to be a detective. I could not be detected because the willful, premeditated murder took place only in my mind. In the two days I waited for him, I felt so disgraced by the rumors, I could not explain the real story to anybody. I figured I could always come back and actually do what I had envisioned.
“Then it struck me. It is easier to commit the act and deal with it than to rationalize it. I remembered my readings: ‘But I say unto you everyone who is angry with his brother shall be guilty before the court.’
“I bought some supplies with the money I had been saving. Clementine and I lit out. The only direction I had not traveled from Discovery was up into the mountains, so that is where I headed. After two days walk, I found this cabin. There was a note on the door which said, ‘Gone to Wellspring. I hope to return in the spring. If you move in, please take care of it. If I get back, I will want it back. God bless all who enter with a pure heart.’
“I came in but I knew my heart was not pure. At first I was shocked I could have thought of such an act, even committed it in my mind. I then began to thank God for not allowing me to carry it out. It took some time, but I finally was able to forgive Edward. I hadn’t even thought about the situation for several years. At least now, when I remember it – because you brought it up – I feel no animosity toward him.
“I have even come to realize that all things happen for a purpose – even the things which seem evil. God can use it to shape and mold the victim. Whenever I get too proud of my piety, God can remind me of the potential evil in my mind. I only hope I get the chance, while I am alive to tell Edward I forgive him.
Stewart asked, “Have you had a chance to relate this story to anybody else?”
“Nobody has stayed this long before. Besides, whenever any other people have come through we always stayed busy. I guess I am on a self-imposed hiatus.”
“What about the missing silver? Did you ever go after it?”
Michael answered, “Let’s say, it is accounted for.”
Stewart was attempting to comprehend the magnitude of this entire interlude. He could not shake the thought that the situation had been arranged by hands greater than his own.
“Michael, I feel you have taught me so much. I don’t know how I could ever repay you.”
“Hold on a minute! I have not taught you anything. I don’t believe any man truly teaches us. It seems more like others help us confirm or rethink our own values. Now those values are probably planted by our parents and other significant people along the way. But they have to grow in fertile soil. Besides, I am the one who is beholden to you.”
Stewart wondered if Michael was really in a self-imposed exile or if he just liked life better up here. He asked, “After all you have been through, how do you remain so peaceful and happy?”
“It seems we do not grow as people unless we have gone through some adversity. About peace, I am not torn by the doubt of whether I should be some other place or doing something else. Happiness to most people is either the hope they hold for the future or pleasant memories of the past. True happiness can only come from living in the present.”
Stewart reluctantly had to excuse himself to begin supper. He had plenty to think about while he was preparing the meal. Somehow, he knew these thoughts would be like a star on which he would guide the course of his future. He would never be able to reach out and touch the star, but most of the time, he would be able to look up and see if he was going in the right direction toward it.
