possibly a natural tolerance to the stuff were going to make the whole experience a bust. The nausea kicked in a little harder, and I belched; when I glanced at Albert, he was watching me and laughing.
I was thankful I’d had the elk dinner, in that it was probably dampening the effects of the peyote. On the other hand, I have to admit that I was a little disappointed; it was about then that I became aware of the grain in the knotholes in the teepee poles.
The tempo of the singing had quickened and was reinforced by the beat of the Drum Carrier, who had joined the chant. I listened to the music and allowed my eyes to rest on the Fire Chief as he stoked the coals of the central fire again, the flurry of sparks flying up and away as before in an attempt to join the stars.
The warmth of the fire reached out until I could feel the ends of my fingers and toes glowing of their own accord. It wasn’t a bad feeling, and certainly not the kind of thing I’d expected from a form of mescaline, but my knowledge was limited to what I had read, not what I had experienced. It was a good feeling but certainly not earthshaking. Once again, I was a little disappointed.
At this point, I think I was trying to make something happen, hoping for anything.
I studied the patterns in the spire-like poles that supported the teepee, willing some faces to appear in the wood, but they stubbornly remained knotholes.
My thoughts circled around to my daughter, who would be arriving in less than fourteen hours, and I hoped that Henry was making more progress in the wedding preparations than I. It was possible that I was going to have to leave Chief Long to her own devices in attempting to solve the puzzle surrounding Audrey’s death. I didn’t like the thought of leaving the case unsolved but maybe it was all for the best.
It was about then that I lowered my face to look around.
And everyone was gone.
7
I blinked my eyes and stared around the interior of the teepee just to make sure what I was seeing was what I was seeing-nothing.
The dirt altar that had made up the center of the ceremony floor was still there, even the indented road of the moon, the cigarette butts, the drum. The peyote bowl, spoon, and jug of tea were all there, all of it untouched, as if the participants had suddenly been called from the teepee and had left me behind.
The fire was blazing away as if it had very recently been stoked, but everyone was gone.
I continued to breathe deeply and sat there waiting for I’m not sure what. I blinked a couple of times and started to get the feeling that I was being made the butt of a joke. I found it hard to believe that the Old Man Chiefs would just get up and head out, but evidently they had, leaving the white guy in here to think about things.
I started to think about standing up when I noticed something on the ground leading to where I sat. Leaning forward, I poked a thumb and forefinger into the dirt and picked up a piece of rough twine, the kind that merchants used to use to tie up brown paper packages. I remembered the stuff from my youth on spools in dry-goods stores but hadn’t seen it in years. Where had that come from?
I picked up the end of the twine and watched as it traced its way across the floor, underneath the teepee flap, and out.
Leveraging myself into a standing position, I lumbered toward the center of the circle and stood there beside the fire with the piece of twine in my hand. It was strange, because the fire didn’t appear to be putting out any heat. I did a half-circle in both directions just to make sure that I hadn’t missed anything or anybody, but I was definitely alone.
I stood there for a moment and then noticed more strings lying on the ground, each one leading to where someone had been sitting, all of them disappearing under the flap.
I moved toward the door, kneeled down, and put the twine between my teeth-I could swear I could taste the peyote in the jute-so that I could have both hands free to open the flap. The job was made easier because the tips of my fingers were glowing. I pushed the flap away.
It was daylight outside, which explained everything-I must’ve fallen asleep, and the others had left me there in the relative safety of the teepee. I lowered myself into a three-point position and pushed my way through the opening.
I was no longer in the land of the Northern Cheyenne.
Sand dunes, strangely red, furled into the distance like rollers in an ocean. The sky was a pale blue, and there was moisture in the air as if the sun had just risen even though it stood at midday.
I took the twine out of my mouth and looked to the horizon, but I couldn’t see anything except the wind- drifted sand. I turned back-the teepee was exactly as it had appeared last night, my hat with the sidearm inside still next to the door with the handkerchief draped over the top.
I was just about to reach over and pick up my things when the forgotten string in my hand gave a tug. Startled, I almost dropped it but then saw that it made a beeline over the nearest dune and disappeared. I glanced around and could see the other strings that had come from the teepee-they traced off in all directions, but none of them appeared to be moving.
The string yanked at me again, so I started following it, the sand potholing under my boots as I wound the twine around the flat of my palm.
The going was surprisingly easy, and I could see the perfect outline of the Bighorn Mountains with the brutish hump of Cloud Peak and the jagged molar of Black Tooth in the distance; but there was nothing else except the red desert and the frosted sky.
The twine tugged at me again, this time strong enough to pull my arm away from my body. I stood there looking at it and noticed that the line appeared to be heading toward the dominating marker of the mountains.
I set off again, the roll of twine getting larger around my palm as I walked up and down the gentle slope of the dunes, developing a rhythm not unlike that of the drums I’d heard last night. I’d even started to hum the chant in the back of my throat as I continued on.
I wasn’t sure what was really happening but figured it had to have something to do with the peyote. I guessed this was what happened when you took the stuff. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but I felt disassociated, as if I were outside myself and watching my actions from far away.
I stopped singing, but the song continued. I listened to make sure it wasn’t some sort of echo, but the tune persisted without mine. Standing there at the point of one of the dunes, this one knife-edged by what must have been a powerful wind, I turned my head and could see what looked like a swale that curved like the crescent of a moon; at the top, an enormous black bear was hunched over and striking at something.
It was only when my hand was drawn from my side in sharp yanks that I realized he was pawing at the twine attached to my hand. I froze and then began backing down the opposite side of the dune, rapidly unwinding the string.
I felt the pull again and started untangling myself at a higher speed, when I heard someone speak to me in the standard Cheyenne, man-to-man expression.
“ Ha’ahe!”
“ Ha’ahe!” Having used up a good portion of my formal Cheyenne, I spoke again, this time in English. “Hey, I’m not sure where you are, but there’s a bear over here, so I’d be careful.”
“Is it a black bear or a white bear?”
I remembered that the Cheyenne old-timers used to refer to grizzlies as white bears and yelled back. “He’s a black one, but as big as a grizzly.”
The twine that I had unrolled in my scramble to get away began retracting at an incredible pace as if it were on a fishing reel, yanking me toward the summit of the dune where the gigantic bear towered on his hind legs.
“Good,” the bear said. “For a moment I thought we were in trouble.”
The bear sat next to the crescent dune and grunted to himself as he wove the twine between his enormous claws like a cat’s cradle. “The line is connected to you.”
I was still trying to get used to the idea of carrying on a conversation with a bear, but he was pleasant enough. I stared at him and figured that it was all a part of some kind of dream. His voice sounded familiar, but I kept getting distracted by the fact that it was a bear talking.
