Adrian's War
Page 5
“The darts don’t kill them on the spot. It causes them to bleed to death which takes time. The worst thing you can do is start trailing them right away. That causes them to keep running and makes them harder to find. Instead wait half an hour. During that time, if not chased, they will usually hole up in the thickest brush they can find and lay down. Laying down, their muscles will stiffen up as they bleed out. You won’t have to trail them as far and the blood trail will be easier to follow.”
He described where Fort Brazos was and the best way to get there. He taught Roger about traveling carefully and avoiding strangers and a dozen other useful pieces of information. Adrian had begun to think that Roger was a useful person, as high a compliment as a man could ask for in the post-grid days. He was intelligent and a quick study, only needing basic instruction before he was ready to tackle a task. Adrian gave him a crash course in survival skills during that one hunting trip. There wasn’t time to spread it out.
He demonstrated how to set a variety of snares, and the best kind of places to set them. “Set snares every evening near your camp. Check them as soon as you can see the next morning. Remove all the snares and take them with you; never leave a snare behind to kill and waste food. It’s wrong, don’t do it.”
They returned to the camp with three jack rabbits, a possum, and four rattlesnakes. Eyes lit up at the sight of meat. They had been busy as well, collecting and preparing more Sotol, mussels, and fish, and creating another underground oven. They had been roasting and snacking on grasshoppers. Everyone was busy and productive. Their morale was excellent. The change in this group in two days was gratifying. Adrian believed that they had enough skills and now enough knowledge among them to survive. They had good attitudes and definite leadership. Better yet, they had a goal, a place to get to: Fort Brazos.
Adrian called over Roger and handed him his shotgun and all of the ammunition for it. Roger looked at Adrian curiously.
“Where I’m going, the way I’m going, I don’t need this,” Adrian said. “Take if for defense, not hunting. Fire it only if you have to—in defense of you and your people. Then as soon as you can, get away from that area. Do not use it for hunting; you have silent means for that. Shooting a gun is an announcement of where you are to anyone within earshot. The good guys aren’t going to come running to see what’s up, but the bad guys will. They’ll hear the shot and think of it as an opportunity to steal food, or to kill.
“They’ll also automatically know that you’re armed, so they won’t come at you in the open. They’ll be sneaky about it. Shooting this is an invitation to disaster, so only shoot it to avoid a disaster. Then get away from that area as fast and stealthily as you can. You might run right into the bad guys if you’re not careful. Keep in mind they may be coming from the direction you are heading. Promise me that if you take this, you’ll do as I say.”
“Sure, absolutely. But are you sure you want to give it away, that you don’t need it?”
“I’m positive.”
Adrian looked at this group with a stirring of pride in what they had accomplished in so short a time. “Listen up! Ladies, there is one more thing I want to show you. If your men will allow, I want you to follow me.”
The men looked startled, but having given their trust to Adrian they allowed it with silent nods.
“We’ll be back in an hour or so. Come along ladies.” The women, suddenly looking shy, followed him away from the camp. They did not have far to go. Adrian showed them a yucca plant.
“These can be prepared and eaten the same way as the Sotol although they need to bake even longer. They have fibers for cordage and leaves for weaving. They have something else though—shampoo. Perhaps the world’s finest shampoo is right here in front of you.” Adrian dug up some of the roots and carried them to the river. He pounded the roots into a pulp between rocks and showed the women how to use the juicy pulp to wash their hair. He showed them by doing it to himself.
Adrian’s hair bothered him. He had been in the Army so long that short hair was his preference. Alice, however, had liked his hair long and he had let it grow to please her. It had now been close to two years since it had been cut. It was past his shoulders, and cleaning it was a pleasurable experience.
The woman laughed and hooted as they washed their hair. Adrian moved a distance back from them, standing behind some nearby bushes so they could have privacy, yet close enough to assure their safety. The women gratefully bathed themselves with frothy soap for the first time in two years. They were extremely happy. The women came out of the river with freshly washed clothes, hair and bodies. He could see the by the lightness in their steps that they were happier than they had been in a long time.
Adrian said, “Okay, Ladies, back to camp. I suspect the men will be happy to see you in such fine fettle, but you’re going to suddenly start smelling them.” Adrian grinned. “I suggest you tell them how to get the yucca shampoo and to go clean themselves.”
When the women returned to camp the men were shocked and delighted to see the women clean and comely, and most of all, happy. While the men were off bathing Adrian drew a map by scratching it out onto a flat rock. He showed it to Roger’s wife and told her to give it to Roger. Adrian also showed her Alice’s locket and told her to describe it to Sarah as proof that Adrian was okay. Then, without another word, he picked up his kit and walked off, just as the men were returning. Roger followed him.
“Do you have to leave already? Don’t you want to stay until morning? The Sotol will be ready then, and you can take some with you.”
Adrian stopped walking and turned around. He looked Roger up and down then said, “You’re a fine man, Roger, a good husband, a good provider, a natural leader, a useful man. You need me around now like you need a hole in the head. I’ve shown you as much as I can without moving in full time. You know enough to make it. Take care of your tribe. Tell Uncle Roman and Aunt Sarah hello for me. Tell them I’m doing fine.”
Adrian abruptly turned and walked off. Roger watched him go with a feeling of foreboding, knowing that Adrian was a sad and lonely man, bent on a path of solitude, and sensing that he had a death wish.
Chapter 6
SOON AFTER LEAVING THE PALO Duro he entered a more desert-like landscape. This was harsh country and it was into the hot time of the year. Temperatures over one hundred degrees were now the norm. Adrian knew how to travel in the desert. He knew to carry plenty of water, to look for more as he went, and how to conserve what water he had. He made a wide-brimmed hat of Yucca leaves to shade his head and shoulders. It looked like a small sombrero or a cowboy hat with a few extra inches of brim. He covered all parts of his skin during daylight hours. Sunburn would be a disaster. Covering the skin looked hotter than exposing the skin, but it conserved body water by blocking wind and sun. Adrian had seen photographs of the Apache Indians of the late 1800’s and noted that they were often fully clothed with long sleeves and pants. In fact, many of them wrapped up in blankets when out in the sun for long periods. The clothing absorbed sweat from the body, holding it close against the skin while it dried keeping the skin moister and providing a slight cooling effect as it evaporated.
Traveling at night was in some ways better than during the day. It was cooler and used less body water. But it had its dangers; low visibility could lead to a twisted ankle or worse. A broken leg out here was a death sentence. A sprain might be survived, and it might not. This was a harsh and bitter land for the wounded. Snakes also were more prone to be out and traveling after dark, raising the risk of an encounter. Adrian did his best to find a happy medium, traveling from first light until around ten, then settling into a shady spot and sleeping until the sun had lost most of its bite, around six or so. Then he traveled again until dark.
During the night he sat by the fire occasionally playing the harmonica, and waiting. He would lay looking up at the clear night sky, the stars by the billions, clear as they could be. Eventually he would sleep until morning and start moving again.
He had learned in survival school that contrary to popular belief, barrel cacti were not a safe source of moisture. They were high in oxalic acid and would make the partaker extremely ill. The small fruits on top of the cactus were all right to eat in small quantities.
He also kept an eye out for signs of water. Certain types of trees or shrubs often signaled underground water that sometimes could be reached by digging. Cottonwoods, sycamores, willows, salt cedar, and hackberry were all worth investigating. Generally they are high water consuming plants, and they root into water bearing strata. Adrian watched for these in low areas, then dug down in the lowest spot among them. When he found this water he usually let the sediment settle out and drank it without boiling it first. This water was remote from habitations and had a better than even chance of not being polluted.
Carrying water was an issue. It was difficult to construct watertight containers from what was at hand. It was also difficult to carry large quantities of it; water was heavy and awkward to travel with. Adrian had made a water storage device from the stomach of the last deer he had killed. It was a simple procedure: remove and clean the stomach, leaving a foot of entrails on top and bottom. After washing out the stomach thoroughly by submerging it in moving water he carefully turned it inside out and used his hands to separate the stomach lining from the outside membrane. The stomach lining he cooked and ate. He soaked the membrane sack in a solution made from oak bark that had been boiled to create a tannin solution.
He made sure the tannin water was inside the stomach as well as outside. After two days of soaking he stuffed it with dry grasses and leaves to hold its shape, then smoked it lightly over the fire. It was stiff, but softened with time and water inside. He did this while making jerky of the deer meat. The gut canteen would carry a two-day supply of water for him, three if he rationed it. The cordage he used to tie off the two tubes to keep the water in also served as a shoulder loop to carry it. He found that setting it against the small of his back was the best method; that way, it didn’t catch on brush as much.
The water picked up some of the tannins and was a bit bitter. He knew in time the water would leach out the tannins and the bag would probably begin to deteriorate. But he also knew he would be across the desert area in a few weeks and it would last long enough. If not, he would kill another deer or an antelope and make a new one. He had read of the Apaches making tightly woven baskets and then sealing them inside with pine pitch, making them waterproof and excellent for carrying water. He was good at making baskets, and knew how to make pine pitch, but he didn’t want to carry something that large and rigid along with everything else he was carrying.
With good water conservation techniques, some as simple as keeping his mouth closed and breathing through the nose, he could travel many miles without needing to replenish his water supply. Sucking prickly pear cactus pulp taken from the young leaves as he walked was a help in that regard. He chewed it lightly to obtain the mucilaginous moisture and then spit out the pulp. He could possibly travel completely across the desert doing that and not have to stop to find and drink water, but the prickly pear had a small amount of oxalic acid in it that could make him sick if he solely relied on it.
The most prevalent danger in this area was snake bite. He was cautious when he walked, using his staff to stir thick brush in front of him if he had to walk through it. Mostly people didn’t die from snakebites, but it would still make him awful sick, and being sick out here was not a good idea. The bite could also become infected and gangrene could set in. Gangrene would definitely kill.
Scorpions were another worry. The small, almond-shaped ones could make a man as sick as a snake bite. Scorpions were most likely to bite in the night, when Adrian was sleeping. Each night he made a ring of rocks around his bedding. He piled the rocks two high and filled any gaps with dirt and sand. It wouldn’t necessarily stop a scorpion from climbing over, but it would divert most of them around him. Before lying down to sleep he took the coals and ashes from his fire and carefully spread them on top of the rocks. He thought it might help some too.
He used willow tree bark and made a mask, using cordage to tie it behind his head, which kept him from having eyestrain and protected his face. With slits cut where his eyes were he could see just fine, but the amount of light was cut down considerably. The mask also protected his facial skin from drying out rapidly and getting sunburned. Sunburn in the desert could ultimately kill a man. He had read about Eskimos making similar eye covering devices to avoid snow blindness. It helped. He had tried leather but found it too hot.
He had also laced yucca leaves into the brim. They drooped down from the brim all around like a fringe, except in front. These further shaded his head, especially his neck, and blocked the sun. He knew he looked strange with the big hat with leaves dangling down and the bark across his face. He was aware that if he came across anyone they would be startled at his appearance. He didn’t care. He didn’t expect to bump into anyone and wouldn’t have cared about their opinion of his clothing even if he did. He did what worked.
The moccasin boots that Alice had made would hold up for a long time, but eventually the soles would begin to wear thin. Adrian had made new soles for them from deer hide. It was a simple matter of cutting the hide to fit the bottom of his boots, then using cordage woven through holes in the edge of the deer hide, then tying them on like sandals over his boots. He made several pair and soaked them in tannin water, then dried them out over his smoke fire. Each pair lasted a long time, saving his boots from the wear. As they wore out he replaced them with another set. It was a simple fix, easy to make. He tied them on hair side out so that the hair would wear off first making them last a bit longer. They also made for silent walking.
One of the many valuable lessons Adrian had learned in the military was to take care of his feet. A man with blisters was crippled and would find himself in serious trouble. This was trouble that could be avoided with a little care. Every time Adrian stopped to rest he removed his boots and washed his feet with a bit of the water from the bag. He shook his boots out, then wiped inside them with a damp cloth to clean the inside. He let his feet air out on a regular basis and checked them thoroughly for hot spots or developing blisters. He hung the boots on brush to give them maximum exposure to whatever wind was available, airing them out. If he got a blister he would have to camp on the spot until it healed, which could take several days. It would be boring, but better than crippling his feet.
When he did stop he also worked on the flint he carried. He was steadily improving at knapping. He was making a store of different size and types of points. When he returned to hunting country he would be ahead of the curve with points. It was a good idea to have a surplus rather than run out and have to find flint in a hurry. He also kept watch for good flint while he was walking. When he found some, he would pause to flake off blanks to carry with him to work on in camp. Learning the knapping techniques was a good distraction.
Adrian carried a backpack and several “possible” bags with him made from animal skins. Sharpening a small deer antler tine by rubbing it on a rock he used it as an awl to punch holes in the hides to sew together with strips of skin cut like shoelaces. Because he kept on the move he didn’t fully tan the hides; instead he used the tannin water and smoke to semi-cure them. They were half cured and half rawhide. They dried up hard, but could be worked soft with a bit of rubbing on a blunt piece of wood or stone. They only needed to be sof
t enough to work with. He had these strung around on different loops of cordage and carried over his shoulder so that he could drop them instantly if he needed to move fast.
The only non-primitive equipment he still carried was his compass, bowie knife, whetstone and magnesium fire starter. He didn’t use them, but he was loath to give them up. They could mean the difference between life and death at some point. Going primitive wasn’t a religion, just a good distraction because it was inconvenient. If survival depended on it, he would use whatever he had, so he kept the more advanced, but highly useful equipment. He also kept Alice’s locket. That he would never part with.
He traveled this way for a month, and then, slowly, the terrain and climate changed. He was still in arid country, but it was becoming mountainous. Running streams and rivers were becoming more common. The air was a little thinner, and the nights were considerably colder. The sun beat down even harder during the day through the thin air, making sunburn more of a threat. The thin air cooled rapidly as the sun went down, and it became downright frigid at night. He hadn’t cured enough skins to make blankets, so he used Yucca and Sotol leaves to weave mats. He wove four mats, then sewed them together in pairs, leaving one end open on each, like large pillow cases. During the day he rolled them up and tied them to his pack. They were awkward, but light. At night he stuffed them both with dry grass and leaves, then slept on one and covered with the other. Not the best blankets he had ever slept between, but they did the job. The bottom one helped to insulate him from the ground, which in the early mornings would be cold enough to suck out his body heat.
Finally he reached the foothills of the Rockies. Here there were trees and game. He would be in elk country soon and needed to make tools sufficient to kill them. The atlatl he had carried from the Palo Duro canyon would work, but bow and arrow would work better. The staff wasn’t cured enough yet to make a bow, so he looked around for something else to use. For now he would use the atlatl but with flint points instead of the wooden points. Adrian made pitch by boiling down pine sap to remove the water. When it was boiling he added a few pinches of hardwood ash as a thickener. When it was done he used the pitch combined with small tendons to fasten flint tips to the darts. In two days, he was ready.