The Ozarks made me lose my breath as I rode for them, answering their call at last. The tall oak trees’ leaves were already changing to striking shades of russet and gold. The deeper that I rode into the heart of the great lands, the more beautiful my surroundings became.  

The Osage River glistened beneath the high afternoon sun. Its dark blue waters enticed me to jump in as I rode past it, but I would have days aplenty to submerge myself in their depths. I would find it again after I built a home and spend a day there swimming and catching fish.  

First, I needed to find a place to stay for the night.  

I guided Angel toward the river to look for a suitable place to settle. I did not want to live too close to it should flooding occur, but I wanted a good view of the deer herds when they came there to drink.   

Once my purchased food ran out, my entire livelihood rested on my ability to track and kill wild game. Hunting would no longer be a leisurely pastime, it would be the sole source of my survival.  

I found a spot uphill from the river that gave me a good view of the plateau. I tied Angel to a tree in a grassy area where he could graze and then I went to work building my temporary shelter. I gathered sticks and fallen tree limbs using the sturdiest ones as stakes. When the foundation of my little home was finished, I layered it with the sticks. I then placed my blanket over the top. 

After several hours of work and sweat, I laughed at the shelter. At the very least, it was something secure to sleep in if a storm passed through. I would make tweaks here and there as time went on.  

I started a fire and opened a can of beans. I smiled at Angel as my simple meal roasted over the fire. He and I had come a long way since the night I escaped from the saloon and stole him from the man I killed.  

“We’re going to have the time of our lives out here,” I said quietly. “I can already imagine how it will be. We’ll find wild apple trees for you and a herd of deer for me.” 

When my belly was full and I lay inside my shelter, I imagined what would become of me. I wondered if I might transform into a madwoman over the years, never leaving The Ozarks once they swallowed me whole.  

What little social graces I had would be lost in the coming months as hunting, swimming, and wandering became my way of life. I closed my eyes and promised myself to never think about Max or the saloon again. As far as I was concerned, they no longer existed. I was free from villains and barriers in the faraway land. It might as well have been another planet.  

I took out the pad of paper and ran a finger down the blank page. It begged me to write something. My stomach fluttered as a strange blend of excitement and fear washed over me. Even as the thick darkness of night enveloped me, I was unable to sleep that night and I longed for candlelight so that I could doodle on the paper. 

A few days later, I rode out to the lake. I never possessed the desire to write before, but perhaps it was the absence of books that enticed me to take up the pen. I saw down on a rock and started to write. I savoured the fresh feeling of being somewhere so new and beautiful.  

September 24, 1871 

The crisp evening air entices me to climb up on the rocks to view the changing leaves in all their colourful glory. I view an elaborate painting every time I cast my eyes upon the great trees of this land. The bright blue sky above is mirrored in the lake. I feel so clean when I submerge myself in its cool depths. I am home.  

Writing down what I saw and felt helped me savour every new experience. It allowed me to take notice of every moment, and then live through it again. It made me feel connected to other creative minds, even though it was unlikely that I would ever meet another author.  

I rebuilt a better shelter with fallen tree limbs, mud, and rocks once autumn arrived. I made a shelter for Angel as well. My new home was cozy enough to sleep in at night, but I rarely spent any time in it during the day.  

September 25, 1871 

Tonight, the sunset stained the clouds in all manner of colours, causing them to match the colourful leaves of the trees below. I could only sit there and sigh at the beauty before me and long for the ability to paint. The wilderness seems to inject new life into Angel as well as in me. We have become kindred spirits during our time here. I can hardly wait to see what tomorrow has in store for us.  

*** 

My breath formed little puffs of fog as Black Walnut, Hickory, and Oak leaves rained down around me. With Angel secured to a tree by the river, I followed the deer tracks in the mud. I stepped lightly with my mouth open as Papa once taught me. With the muzzle of my rifle pointing to the ground, I patiently stalked the elusive herd of deer. Though the lands were riddled with the hoofed creatures, they were extra wary of humans, considering they never saw them this deep in the woods. Nevertheless, even the shrewdest prey could be tracked down if the hunter was persistent.  

My heart sank when I reached the edge of a gulley. I lost their trail yet again, but when my vision focused on what was below, I froze. I held my breath at the sight of several does and one stag drinking from the creek. They were robust from grazing on the lush vegetation all summer. If I made my way down the gulley too fast, I’d startle them and lose the opportunity for a good meal that would last for weeks. I had to stay put and hope that my aim would not fail me.  

In one fluid motion, I levelled the barrel of my rifle with the closest buck. He was young, but still old enough to have had several chances to sow his wild oats and journey through the wonderful lands.  

I gritted my teeth as my finger rubbed the trigger. It made my stomach churn to think of his fate, but I was already growing weak from hunger. He turned to scan his surroundings, perhaps sensing a stranger in his midst, and I aimed between his eyes.  

I held my breath and fired.  

In the wake of the terrible boom, all manner of birds, rodents, and deer fled the area.  

The buck faltered before collapsing to the forest floor.  

“No!” I cried.  

My shot was far from lethal. Hidden by the dense green, I could not see him to make a second, fatal shot. I rushed down the gulley, slipping and scraping myself on rocks and branches. I moved as quickly as I could, desperate to end the life of the poor animal before he suffered a moment longer.  

I knew better. I should have waited until my hands were completely steady before firing.  

My feet found another muddy patch and I tumbled down the rest of the steep incline. I screamed as I shielded my face with my hands. At the bottom, I forced myself to stand. The world spun around me and I nearly stumbled back into the dirt.  

I caught my breath and made my way to the fallen deer. My legs trembled, but I forced them into a run anyway.  

“Almost there,” I panted. “Almost there. Almost there.” 

High-pitched yelping made me stop in my tracks. I held my breath, hoping that I was only hearing things.  

In the not so far distance, a four-legged creature appeared. He was so majestic that I wondered how such a thing could exist in the natural world. 

“Oh no,” I panted.  

The rays of sun reaching through the treetops highlighted his rusty fur. In all my days of living in the country, I had never seen a wolf. With my horse far out of reach, it was the last thing that I wanted to lay eyes upon. One big, healthy wolf likely meant that its pack was close by.  

The red timber wolf met my gaze, but unlike a dog, he looked straight through me. It lifted its snout to smell the air for something far more interesting than a skinny human.  

It trotted in the direction of the stag and three more red wolves emerged from the bushes, following his lead. I reloaded my rifle with shaking hands. The last thing that I wanted to do was shoot them. When it came to animals, I only shot for food and pelts.  

I slowly backed away as the wolves surrounded the dying buck. I stomped my foot in angry defeat, hoping that he had at least bled to dearth before they sunk their fangs into him. The largest wolf lifted his head to stare at me before lunging at his fresh meal.  

“Yeah, you’d better thank me!” I shouted.  

I turned my back on them to climb up the perilous gulley. I looked over my shoulder every so often to ensure that I was not being followed by anything, but they left me well alone with their bellies full. Still, I had no idea how frequently they ate or if they’d attempt to kill a third meal to eat later.  

When it seemed clear that they were not going to follow me, I sighed in relief. I’d have to settle for berries and apples again. I would attempt to hunt again tomorrow after a good rest.  

Once I reached the top of the gulley, I sat down to allow my sweaty body to cool off. I looked down at the feasting wolves and shook my head. One of America’s greatest predators ate what would have been a month’s worth of sustenance for me.  

I supposed that I could not blame them. Their entire survival always depended on a successful hunt. They had been gifted with a free meal, which was something that rarely happened in the wild. I would need to move to a different territory.  

As the cooling air hit my damp skin on the walk back to retrieve Angel, I started to shiver. Despite my empty stomach, the only thing that I wanted to do was to sit by a fire and bundle up in my blanket with Angel close by. His quiet company soothed my soul like balm. He was more than just an animal to me. He was a friend.  

That evening as I huddled by the flames of the modest fire with Angel close by, the wolves howled from somewhere deep in the forest. I imagined them celebrating their satiation that evening, announcing to everyone that they were the true gods of the forest.  

… to be continued

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