The Raven's watch

This is the last chapter of The Gunslinger's Vision, Volume 3 of the Gunslinger Series. I'm in the process of final proof, hope to be available in November.

The Raven's watch 

The Raven watched his three friends carefully from a perch high in the tallest pine on top of a cliff in the middle of Bear Bluffs. His keen eyesight allowed him to track their physical well-being, while his spiritual awareness gave him access to most of their emotions, thoughts and dreams. He knew enough not to interfere unless it was necessary, and that the interpretation of his friend's visions would only be completely understood after smoking the sacred pipes and hearing Looking Bear's translation.

The Raven paid close attention to his friends' dreams. He spied on the large brown bear as it followed the grey wolf, which was tracking the black bear and her cub.

The brown bear lumbered along slowly, but steadily, stopping often to munch on berries, roots and insects. The bear was particularly interested in the millions of moths inhabiting the grasslands beneath the Bluffs. He spent hours consuming them before he moved on. The Raven marveled at the brown bear's raw power, and yet it was his patience and deft accuracy that allowed him to catch thousands of the moths, enough to satisfy his enormous hunger, in a short period of time.

The Raven flew ahead to watch the grey wolf. The lone wolf traveled at a much faster pace than the bears, but when he got too close to the mother and her cub, he would stop and rest. Occasionally, he would veer off his chosen path and track the scent of deer or buffalo. He desperately needed to make a kill, but these fast moving game remained out of reach. The Raven admired the wolf's patience, persistence and stamina; him he was clearly an experienced hunter.

The mother black bear kept her cub heading north. The cub protested, wanting to rest or play, but she kept him moving, only taking respite during the hottest part of the day. The mother bear spent every moment teaching her cub how to find food, what was edible, and what was dangerous or to be avoided. He was a curious cub, intelligent and energetic, but the quick pace and lack of food continued to take a toll. He was tiring.

The Raven watched from a tree on the opposite side of a small freshwater spring that trickled out of some boulders at the base of a rugged cliff. The black bears had stopped at the spring and were wading through the shallow water. The mother bear was concentrating on teaching her young cub how to catch crayfish, salamanders and a variety of small fish in the clear water. The cub did his best to mimic his mother's motions, but the small, fast and slippery animals usually managed to escape. She grunted with satisfaction at her child's energetic attempts, and laughed when a crayfish latched onto his nose. He was learning. He might survive.

"A peaceful, beautiful scene," the Raven thought.

When the mountain lion sprang from the rocks above and landed on the mother's exposed back, everyone was caught off guard. The Raven startled by the sudden violence, screeched and beat his wings wildly. The cub cried and instinctively scrambled up the nearest tree. He held on tightly, shivering with fear. The mother bleated angrily, rolled over and slipped out from under the mountain lion's grasp.

The mountain lion's first bite to the back of neck had fallen short. The bear regained her footing and roared loudly, letting the mountain lion know that she was unharmed and ready for battle. She backed up against the tree where her cub had fled and stood on her hind legs. She bellowed at the mountain lion. She slashed her claws in the air. The mountain lion crouched low and growled. He had lost his advantage.

It was rare for a mountain lion to attack an adult bear—he was clearly after the cub. He weighed his options. His instincts told him not to take on the mother bear; she had the benefit of size, weight, and thick fur. Her sharp claws were capable of ripping deeply into his flesh and she was ready to defend her cub to the death. The mountain lion preferred to fight battles that he knew he could win. Deer and elk were formidable game and could inflict damage with their legs and hooves, but they were nowhere near as dangerous as a mother bear.

He spotted the cub in the tree above his mother. A rocky ledge jutted out within striking distance of the young bear—it was the cub he wanted. He snarled and glared at the bear, then slinked away into the shadows of the boulders. The mother bear relaxed her muscles, calmed her pulsing heart, and called softly to her cub. She kept her nose up, sniffing the air trying to decipher the exact whereabouts of the mountain lion. She stayed on alert, hoping that the mountain lion had fully retreated.

The brown bear and the grey wolf had heard the commotion. The sudden outburst and then the silence intrigued them. They advanced quickly. The grey wolf appeared at the edge of the spring first, hoping that one of the bears or the mountain lion were dead. A fresh kill would be a welcome feast. He smelled blood, but not death. He stayed in the shadows.

Moments later, the brown bear rumbled into the shallow water, making a loud splash. He smelled the wolf, he smelled the mountain lion; he locked eyes with the mother bear. They were predator-cousins that usually avoided each other. Unusual circumstances and the lean summer months had brought them together. He snorted loudly and made a confident show of his superiority, shaking the water off his fur, exposing his backside and lazily rooting in the grass along the bank. He wanted nothing to do with the mother bear, only the cub interested him—and then just to kill, not eat. For the brown bear, the effort would be worth it; one less male black bear would help keep competition in these parts to a minimum.

The Raven watched these powerful hunters, wondering what would happen next. He asked Mother Earth to seed the dreams of his friends.

Suddenly, the mountain lion jumped from a ledge and knocked the cub out of the tree. It hit the ground hard and lay still, dead or unconscious. The mountain lion quickly regained his feet and darted for its prey. Inexplicably, the mother bear and the brown bear charged the mountain lion at the same time. Adversaries had become allies. A great battle ensued. Claws swiped through the air. Jaws clamped on fur and flesh. Growls, snarls and roars echoed through the trees. Blood, spit and urine were spilled on the forest floor. The three giants, the apex predators of the Northwestern plains, smashed into each other and rolled through the underbrush.

The Raven watched, already unsure of the outcome, but even more amazed when the grey wolf grabbed the cub by the nape of its neck and pulled it to safety.

Soon, the mountain lion realized he was beaten. The bears were relentless in their attacks and they were steadily overwhelming him. Wounded, but still alive, he leapt for freedom. He left bloody tracks as he jumped from boulder to boulder, up the steep cliff out of reach of the ferocious bears. He would live to hunt another day.

The brown bear and the mother black bear watched the mountain lion retreat, grunting and growling loudly, giving one last warning to the great cat. The brown bear sat heavily on his haunches and began to lick his wounds. They were mostly superficial. The mother bear, however, had sustained substantial damage. She was in great pain from deep cuts, bruises and perhaps a broken hind leg. She limped over to where the grey wolf had dragged her cub. She poked at his small body with her bloody snout. He was alive. She lay down beside him and brought her precious cub close. They slept.

The grey wolf moved silently away when the mother bear approached. He watched as she comforted her cub. He could have taken advantage of the exhausted mother bear and her helpless child, but something deep inside his unconscious turned off the primal predator inside of him, and instead he remembered his mother—the warmth, safety, love and peace she had given. The grey wolf left them alone. He had taken note of the mountain lion's path, thinking that it might be worth it to track the wounded animal for a few days. He slipped quietly into the forest.

A few hours later, the Raven heard the last ragged breaths of the mother black bear. He watched the brown bear carefully, expecting the inevitable—he would kill the cub.

The huge brown bear, however, had different thoughts. Perhaps it was because he had lost his mother when he was very young, or perhaps it was the extraordinary way the mother bear had fought to the death to defend to her child. In any event, the brown bear comforted the small black cub and slowly coaxed the tiny bear to the freshwater spring where he fed him sweet roots, silverfish and salamanders. Every few minutes he would glance towards his dead mother, cry, and sometimes run back to her lifeless body. This continued for a while, but eventually the cub began to trust the brown bear.

The next day, the Raven watched in amazement as the brown bear led the black cub northward.

The dream ended. The vision quest was over. His friends had cried and lamented well. The Great Spirit had dispensed his guidance. Mother Earth had revealed her secrets. It was time for the sacred pipe to interpret the many messages the travelers had received. It was time to return to Looking Bear's lodge.