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Chapter 3
He took a squat-step around the manzanita, closing the gap between himself and the most powerful creature on earth. A grizzly’s nose and ears were exceptionally keen. The giant grunted. To Badger Warrior’s sensitive ears it sounded like a roar and nearly knocked him off balance. But a tracker maintained his calm. The animal didn’t move, but the noise was a warning; he must act quickly.
He took the last squat-step. Now he was an arm’s length away from a mountain of brown hair rising and falling in easy rhythm. He placed his left palm on the tips of the fur, applying no more pressure than a dragonfly. Absorbing the animal’s power, he pressed slowly and gently until the fur surrounded his fingers. The hair felt coarse and soft at the same time.
He took one last squatting step and slowly closed his fist over a handful of fur. With his other hand he took the knife from his teeth. Holding the hair secure, he passed the blade over his fist. But the hair was tough and somewhat matted. It moved away from the blade.
He considered. The touch was coup enough, but he had come for the hair. Stone-still, heart pounding in his temples, he tried again. After what seemed an eternity of delicate cutting, almost hair by hair, he had what he wanted. It contained so much power it burned hot in his hand.
The mountain erupted to life. The bear emitted a loud coughing bark. It stopped his heart. He squat-jumped back behind the manzanita, gripping the knife. The bear rolled toward him, paws in the air. Why am I behind a see-through bush? Why not running? Had panic stopped him? He watched in horror, realizing that no matter where he stabbed the bear, the animal would kill him.
Successive thuds shook Badger Warrior’s bones as the bear’s legs, belly and head cascaded to a rolling stop, the reek of the nostrils blowing into Badger Warrior’s face. He held the knife at the ready, but the mountain of fur settled and became still, snout resting on a paw like a huge dog, the dark slits of the eyes positioned to see Badger Warrior the instant they opened.
Had he run, the sound would have brought the bear into angry pursuit.
With his heart kicking in his ribs he slithered away as he had come, like a snake, one scale at a time. He looked back as often as forward, but felt growing elation to have avoided the mistake of most animals, who revealed their positions by running prematurely. Maybe he had absorbed enough power from the touch that he saw the bear’s spirit. Maybe his own spirit had known the bear was only turning over in his sleep. He widened the distance, crouching, then straightened to a walk.
When he felt safe he exploded into a joyful run. With the knife in his calf-thong and the fistful of hair in his hand, he leaped over rocks, zigzagged around trees and jumped from the tops of boulders, tearing downhill. He wouldn’t step on a rattlesnake. He was lucky. He had succeeded beyond his dreams. The most powerful of all animals was his spirit ally!
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