he did speak he often spoke of his own village, and I realized I might lose my companion. His own village lay not many days travel away to the north, and he had long been gone.
At night I now built a small, separate fire, and over this I muttered prayers and recited doggerel learned from my parents. To Keokotah I was making medicine, preparing for entering the cave of the shadows. All this was pure mumbo-jumbo but I liked Keokotah and did not wish him to believe I made light of his fears. 'Bad,' I said to him, 'much bad! Bad spirits!'
The cave lay on the south side of a large river, but nearer a branch of that river which forked. He led the way, but he walked slower and slower.
One night in a camp on a shelf above the river I said to him, 'Keokotah, your home is near. If you go to the Far Seeing Lands with me it will be long before you again see your village.'
I had all his attention. 'You could visit your village and meet me in the western lands.' I took up a stick and in the clay I drew a line. 'Here is the Great River, running north to south. Here,' I drew a line joining it from the west, 'is another river. It is almost due west from here toward the setting sun. Perhaps a little south? You could meet me there. I will return to the canoe, and will go to the Great River and then to this river.
'It has been told me that this river,' I indicated the one flowing into the Great River from the west, 'flows down from the Shining Mountains. That river I shall follow westward.
'It is also,' I added, 'the way Itchakomi was to go. If I am to find her I must seek signs of their passing.'
'The signs will be gone.'
'I do not think so. You see, Ni'kwana spoke to me alone. He told me of signs that were to be left for those to follow if Itchakomi did not return. I shall look for the signs.'
He hesitated for a long time and then he asked, 'You do not want Keokotah with you when you face the spirits of the Shadow Cave?'
'If he wishes,' I said carefully, 'but I think this is something my medicine is strong against. It is a trial for me.' An inspiration came to me. 'When you won your name, your totem, did you not go out alone to fast? To dream? So it is with me. The spirits tell me this I must face alone. It is for me. It is great danger for anyone else. If I come not to the place by the Great River you will know I have failed.'
Keokotah did not wish to leave me, but two things tugged at him: his desire to visit his village and his fear of the Shadow Cave.
'I will go with you even though I fear,' he said. 'You are my friend.'
'My medicine will often protect all who are with me. In this case it will protect only me, I think. I must go into the cave alone.
'Perhaps,' I suggested, 'you were sent to bring me this knowledge. Perhaps those who lie in the cave are my ancestors who have words for me. I do not fear the shadow things, for they know of me. I will go to them. Do you go to your village. In two moons you will meet me at the river of which I speak. I shall leave signs for you to follow.'
I held up the Roman coin. 'This speaks to me across many years.' I showed him the picture of the old man on one side and the young man on the other. 'These were great chiefs long ago in a land far from here, but I know who they were and what deeds they did.
'Those who lie in the cave may also have words for me. We shall see.'
We parted when the sun arose, and no more was said. Neither knew what lay between us and the river of which I spoke, but each knew he could find the other if he was there.
I watched him go with sadness, for I have had few friends and did not know if I would have another.
Now was my time of trial. I had said much to Keokotah because I desperately wished to see the cave where the bodies lay, but I had no faith in my charms against the shadow things. That was spoken for him, to put his fears for me at rest. I am no braver than any man, and the thought of entering the cave filled me with doubt and fear. Yet I am a curious man, and wherever I had gone I had had the feeling that I followed in the footsteps of others. This was a clue I could not, dare not, avoid. I must see, not only for myself but for that most sacred thing, the knowledge of others.
In a world of many mysteries there are a few doors left slightly ajar for us to see. He who passes one of those doors may deny man knowledge precious to us. How long might men wait before another told of the cave? How many could know of it? The knowledge had been given to me. The mission was mine.
If I could not solve the mystery of those bodies I could at least report their existence.
The opening of the cave was small, not easy to find, and such an opening as one might easily pass by, thinking it nothing at all.
That night I made camp on a branch of a fork on the river. Tomorrow I would venture into the cave. Tomorrow...
And when the morning came there were no stars, but only a flat black sky, and there was a smell of rain in the air. I broiled a piece of venison and ate slowly, making coffee from chicory. The wild plants grew along old buffalo trails and elsewhere. There were no blooms this early, but within a few weeks the bright blue flowers would be visible in many a corner and meadow.
My fire burned low, a sullen flame that brought no cheer. I thought of the cave into which I was going and hesitated. Need I go? Why take the chance? I had never liked caves much, anyway. I gave myself excuses but none of them worked. The cave was there and I would see what it contained.
When the fire was low and I had drunk the last of my chicory brew I gathered my few things together, put my fire out carefully, and made up my small pack. With my knife firmly in place and my guns ready, I took up my bow and started up the narrow, scarcely discernible path. Now for it, I told myself.
Trees like black bars against the gray rock. Moss hanging, moss clinging. The track was slippery. If it rained I must be careful along here. Below there was a tangle of dead trees, trunks crossing trunks, all blown down by some violent gust long ago. It was a trap above which the track wound along. I could hear the water rustling by. Suddenly there was a crack in the limestone wall.
Here it probably was then. I looked all around and saw nothing. A small flock of parakeets flew from one tree to another, in pursuit of some unseen food supply.
The cave was not just as I had heard it was, but no matter. I had found it.
Black and ominous. I gathered material for a torch but then thought of the candle I forever carried in my small pack. Such a candle can keep a man from freezing in a small space. I got it out, crouched low through the opening, and lighted it. I edged forward and then stood up.
Before me was where Keokotah had built his fire. The remains of it as though it had just gone out. Some sticks lay close by to add to the fuel. The room was bare and clean, with nothing besides the fire and its ashes.
My candlelight flickered on the walls but I saw no shadows but those that should be there ... or did I? I shook my head, angry with myself.
Imagination! Was I a child to be frightened by ghosts? Or such a savage as Keokotah, who knew no better?
Yet what did I know? Were there ghosts? Were there spirits? Who was I to say? All my life I had heard stories of such things. All my child's life I had been pleasurably frightened by such stories. We had longed for them and had begged my mother, or Lila, or Jeremy Ring to tell us such stories. Now they returned to haunt me.
I looked at the small opening into the next room. Was that where the bodies lay, with their blue eyes watching? Were they dead? Were they even there? Or were they merely waiting, lying there, waiting for me to enter?
Don't be a fool, I told myself. You're not a child. You are a man. You are not afraid of the dark or of shadows.
What wasthat? Had something moved? Or was it some sound from outside? I drew my knife. What good was a knife against a ghost? Yet was this a ghost? What kind of creatures could they be? They were but bodies, and Keokotah had seen them.
Carefully, I looked around again. I edged back toward the entrance hole and listened.
Nothing.
Again my eyes went to the walls. The candle cast few shadows, but against the limestone walls the candle gave much light. My eyes searched for shadows, not wanting to find them but not daring to miss them.
The silent dead lay within that other room. They were the ones I had come to see.
