It was peaceful in the valley where the river ran. Comes an evening, once dinner's done, I took to sitting on the front porch because it's what Paw does. Maw'd be cleaning, once we was out of her way. It would often be the first time in a day we'd be at the cabin together since breakfast.

I hadn't given up on doing something that might win my father's approval. The cabin in the valley where the river ran sits on high ground. When the spring rains come, we might be surrounded by water for a week or more. With spring rains and melting snow from nearby mountains fill the river to overflowing.

From our front porch, we can see the mountain peaks, the lower pasture, the river, and the wide open pasture land spreading out beyond the river.

When it floods, Paw leans on one of the support posts holing the roof up off the front porch, looking out at the water and fretting because he can't get out of the house. Paw can't see the river, because the water is just below the porch, but he can see the mountain peaks, and they have his attention on those days.

Paw don't have much to say to me. It goes best if I let him be. If I have a question, "Maw, what is it about the mountains keeps Paw watching them?"

Maw knew everything about Paw. I knew he was a hard working farmer, working her father's farm, who didn't have much to say to me. I disappointed Paw something fierce. I knew what I done but couldn't undo it.

Maw'd say, "Let it be, Gregory. Don't do no good fretting over what you can't do nothing about."

I took to watching the mountains for my own reasons just before I turned fourteen. Those mountains were going to figure into how I proved to Paw that I was a man. I wasn't sure what it might take to get the message across, but those peaks would figure into it.

Maw provided the answer to what I needed do on my fourteenth birthday. She didn't know it. I don't think Paw gave it much thought, but I was leaving the cabin in the valley where the river ran.

I had to leave to prove to Paw, I was a man.

Paw wasn't a talkative man. He hardly said nothing to me, except when we was hunting. We go each year about this time, after harvest is in and once autumn sets in. We usually bring back enough deer meat to last the winter.

"It's time, Gregory. Get your gear ready. Clean your squirrel gun."

We'd be gone for three days. Paw wouldn't leave Maw alone for more than three days. Because of something that happened to Paw when he wasn't much older than me, he wouldn't leave her for too long. Paw always got a buck along about the second day we was out.

Once harvest was in, Paw was a different man. Something about the hunt kept his mind off the farm and the never ending work. He treated me as though we were doing this together. He taught me things and explained things to me.

The only other thing Paw and me did together was go to town for supplies.

"Gregory, hitch Dobin to the wagon. We got us a list your maw made us."

We'd leave off in the morning, so we'd be back before Maw put supper on the table. Dobin wasn't what you'd call a good wagon pulling horse. He was the horse we had. He got us to town and he'd get us home. He took his time doing it.

Going to Lawrence's store was an adventure neither of us liked much. We'd buy sugar, flour, coffee once a month or so. I went with Paw because he couldn't read and I needed to make sure we got what Maw put on her list. Paw rarely talked on these trips. He knew trouble wasn't far off when we was in town.

Going hunting and going to town was the only time I left the cabin.

One time, after watching Paw watch those mountains for a spell, I asked Maw, "What's Paw looking for, Maw? He stares at them mountains like there's something there he's trying to remember, or maybe forget."

I was about ten and I'd been watching Paw for a long time by then. I hadn't decided to leave the cabin at that time. From time to time I ask Maw about Paw.

"His people are from there, Gregory," Maw told me.

"Ain't his people our people, Maw? How come we don't know them?"

"It's a long story, Gregory. One day, when you're older, I'll tell you. It ain't no easy story for me to tell."

My imagination could take off when Maw said something like that. I couldn't have imagined what happened to Paw's people in a hundred years.

Later on, true to her word, Maw did tell it all to me. It was a hard story for her to tell, and it was no less hard on my ears. It didn't change nothing between Paw and me, but I learnt I had a brother who was kilt. Paw had another wife. She was kilt. There was a lot of death Paw's left behind him.

It all happened before he met Maw and when I came along. The mountains fascinated me after that. When Paw stood on the porch looking at them, I sat nearby looking at them too. Those mountains separated Paw's past from his present. I had a hankering to know more, but Maw said, "That's all there is. Your Paw was shot chasing the men who done the killing, and I nursed him. We got fond of each other and we was married."

"He never went back, Maw?"

"Nothing to go back to. Everyone was killed and their villages destroyed. It's not a good subject to be asking your Paw about. Took him a long time to tell me."

I wondered if things might have been different between Paw and me if my brother didn't die? I wondered if I'd be close to my brother, like boys at school are close to theirs. I admired how brothers stood together when there was trouble.

There weren't no children near our cabin. There wasn't nothing near out cabin, but the river, the pastures, and those mountain peaks I watched for signs of snow on top. Once there was snow on top, that's when I'd leave.

I wasn't what Paw wanted. I didn't know how to please Paw, cause I seemed to be "under foot" when I was around him. The only time he didn't run me off was when he needed a good pair of hands to help him get a job done.

I don't know what he thought of my brother, but he didn't think much of me. Maybe Paw just didn't like kids. Maw treated me fine. I never went hungry, and even in the bitter cold, my bed was next to the big stone fireplace in that cabin. I never got cold, except while doing chores, but I'd go back into a nice warm cabin.

The heat was a different story. We had trees to shade the cabin. Being built on high ground, we caught any breeze around, but hot was hot and the summer heat was hard to escape. At ten or eleven, I discovered there was a might nice answer to the worst heat. The river was right out our front door, and I took to soaking in it often during the summer.

I made up my mind I was leave a year or two ago. I wasn't old enough to go when I first thought of it. This year I turned fourteen. I figure I'm old enough now. I've been planning it for some time. I want to wait for the snow to be on the mountains. That would mean cooler weather was close.

I didn't want to move in the heat of summer. I would wait until autumn to leave, but this was the year I'd go. I was fourteen. I was ready now.

After dinner, as Paw and I sat silent on the front porch, a few times an elk or moose would wander along the bank on the far side of the river. Paw told me what they was before I knew anything. Giving me the names of things was nice.

I saw a big powerful brute of a critter two times. As they moved into view. I never seen anything as powerful looking as those two grizzly bear.

I asked Paw, "What's that, Paw."

"Wondering how long it would take you to see it. That's a grizzly bear. Not an animal to fool around with. You see a griz, you get gone," Paw told me.

The second griz I saw, I knew what it was.

"Look, Paw, a griz," I said, using Paw's word.

"I been watching him for ten minutes. You just now seeing him?"

That was Paw. I was always lacking in Paw's opinion. I thought I knew why.

Paw did educate me on things he knew about. He told me about the land. He told me about animals. The main thing was to respect all living things. Paw remembered the things he told me. He never told me the same thing twice. If he told me something, he knew I'd remember.

I was ten when I saw me my first griz. Two years ago I saw the second. Since I saw the first griz, I never saw another animal that look as fierce.

"Where's he going, Paw?" I asked, after seeing the second griz.

"Only the griz knows. He's got some hankering in his mind. Only a fool gets in a griz's way."

The second time I saw a griz, I had a hunch, me and the griz hadn't seen the last of one another. Our destiny would bring us together. This wasn't clear to me until my fourteenth birthday. By then I'd forgotten Paw's warning about griz.

I was fourteen. What I didn't know wasn't worth knowing. I weren't no different than any fourteen year old boy I knew.

When I saw a griz, I saw a creature that was free and powerful enough to do what it pleased. There was no school, no parents, no anything that was going to tell a grizzly bear what to do. That excited me deep inside.

I knew I aimed to be free like the griz. I wanted to go where no one had a say in what I did. Being free was appealing.

The summer I turned fourteen, I knew I was leaving the cabin in the valley where the river ran soon. I'd begun putting things together I took when Paw and me went hunting. Paw would think I was ready to go deer hunting with him. I'd be gone before it was time to go hunting.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

It took ten minutes to walk to the river from the cabin. That time of year, I went to the river every day, stopped off and took cool comfort from the refreshing water. I'd do my chores, and once I was smelling myself, I knew to rinse off before I went in for lunch. If I didn't rinse off, Maw would send me to rinse off as soon as she smelled me. No one needed to tell me these days. It was so nice at the river, I built it into my day. It wasn't much of a river by August. The rains were a month off if things went as usual. Paw ain't gone to get Simon yet, his hand for harvest. They'd need three to four weeks to get the harvest in.

I could have done what Simon does, but I was too disagreeable these days, and Paw didn't need me under foot. I wouldn't be under foot much longer.

When I left the cabin each morning, I was heading to feed the pigs, goats, chickens and Dobin. I cleaned up after our critters, and by the time I finished with the pigs, I was ready for a good rinse in the river. I was both hot and sweaty by the time I took to leaning on the fence at the pig pen to watch Paw lean on what was handy. Following his eyes, I knew where my eyes would end up.

I knew his story by the time I was ready to leave. I knew what happened to his people and my brother. It helped me understand things going on inside of me, but it did nothing to close the distance between Paw and me.

My teacher asked me once, "What do you do at home, Gregory."

She wasn't picking on me. It's what she asked all her students at one time or another. I didn't have any difficulty telling her what I did.

"I feeds our pigs, chickens, and goats," I tells her. "I keep their pens clean."

"Gregory?" Mrs Taylor asked. "How do you keep a pig pen clean?"

Mighty good question. I had no answer. I did what I did and since no one took me to task, I figured I was doing fine. The pigs did what they did, and there was no use telling them to do different, because they did what they did.

The cabin was built on the highest ground around. I knew about floods since I was little. I'd stand on the front porch and look out and see nothing but water. The field on the far side of the river was flooded. The floods came in the spring. The rains came and the mountain snows melted. It all met in the valley where the river ran.

For a week, maybe two, I'd be in knee deep water going to the barn to take care of the critters. The barn was built on high ground too. The goats and chickens stayed high and dry, and Dobin stayed in his stall. Not so much the pigs. Pigs do what pigs do. Standing in water was fine. Just don't forget to dump the garbage into their pen.

How do you keep a pig pen clean?

It wasn't cold when it flooded. It wasn't warm and I couldn't find the river, because I was standing in it, and by the time I got back to the house, I'd be soaked. There was a fire blazing in the fireplace, which is where I stripped out of my clothes. I hung them up to dry near the fire, and I let the fire dry me out.

Paw stayed in the house. He stood at the front door or he stood at the back door, but he didn't go out. He couldn't do anything until the water went back in between the river banks. So, Paw stood in at the door watching the water.

One year, I was maybe ten or eleven, Paw said, "Boy, put some clothes on. You're too old to be standing around like that. Ain't you got no sense?"

I suppose I didn't. It's how I did it for as far back as I remembered. I was growing hair in places hair never grew before, and it was about this time I noticed a smell that was downright annoying. It was coming from me. I never noticed it before. My body was changing.

I didn't know it was part of becoming a man.

When I went to talking in school, sometimes I sounded like a bullfrog croaking. Other times I sounded like a girl squeaking out my words. I got laughed at when these sounds came out of me and filled the classroom.

I wasn't the only boy croaking and squeaking. Billy Bogs began to sound like he was speaking with his head in a barrel. Even I got a laugh out of his voice, but once he got into that barrel, his old voice never came out. He had the deepest voice I think I'd heard. He was twelve and a little older than me. I had company with the changes, but all the boys what avoided girls like they had pox, started hanging around them looking like they hadn't eaten in a spell.

At the house, nothing changed. Paw and I got along less and less. He rarely had anything to say to me, but if I done something he didn't like, he'd bring it up over dinner. He couldn't tell me what he had to say while we was out, he had to wait until we was in the cabin, and make me about as angry as I got.

"Maw, why don't Paw like me? What did I do?"

"Gregory, your Paw is a difficult man. It's not you. You've done nothing. When a thing is like it is, it's easiest when you face that it ain't going to change."

I couldn't ignore Paw's anger. I was becoming a man and I intended to prove to him that I was a man and that was that. If he didn't treat me like it, I'd go for good. I didn't need to stay where I wasn't wanted.

The only time Paw let me help him was when he needed an extra pair of hands, and then he'd only ask me if Simon wasn't there. Paw worked well with Simon, a slave who came west to get himself free. He lived close by and Paw used him a couple of times a year. Maw sent baked goods home with him, and when we butchered, Simon always got a share. Paw had no money and this is how Simon got paid.

I could of done what Simon did by that time, but he didn't need my help, and Maw give me my chores, and it was always working somewhere Paw weren't. Maw never had nothing to say when Paw and I had words. That made it worse.

I'd do something to prove I was a man to Paw. I'd be every bit as good a man as he was. I weren't going to treat my kids the way Paw treats me. Paw ain't never hit me, and I'm powerfully proud of that. He'd probably kill me if he did. I ain't no match for him, but I got some pride and my patience has run out.

I'd already have gone if it weren't so dang hot.

Maw said once I was grown, Paw's see me different, and I could look forward to that, but I can't grow no faster than I done. Once I done proved myself, I'd be willing to shake his hand and start a new, if he would.

Waiting is the worst. Now that I'm grown, I don't want to wait no longer.

I been too young to leave up to now. I had school I waned to finish. I was let out of school just short of my fourteenth birthday.

Mrs Taylor said, "You gone about as far as I can take you. Most other boys don't go as far as you've gone. No more I can teach you, Gregory. It's time you learned to do whatever it is you intend to do."

I intended to prove I was a man and that wouldn't settle things for me.

Most boys I knew from school, went to work beside the brothers and fathers on the farms and ranches scattered around the valley. By the time they was twelve or thirteen, they was working full time, getting a man's pay. I turned thirteen and was nearly fourteen when Mrs Taylor let me out, and I still didn't work beside Paw and the brother I never knew was dead. I wish I had me some brothers. I would feel so alone on the farm.

Once I was let out of school, there was nothing to keep me put. I knew I was leaving for a spell, but it wasn't until Maw gave me my birthday present that I realized what it was I needed to do to prove I was a man to Paw.

On my birthday, Maw sent us into town with a list of things we'd get at Lawrence's store. It was something I did to help Paw. That might have been a good opportunity for us to be together, father and son like. It might have been nicer if it wasn't such an ordeal on both of us.

Knowing what was coming, I dreaded our trips to Lawrence's store.

I'd be helping Paw because he couldn't read. I had to pick out the things on Maw's list. This didn't trouble me, I could do that without making Paw feel stupid, but then we had Maw's father to deal with, my grandfather, and going into Lawrence's was like wading into a nest of vipers. Lawrence's was the only store where you could buy the things Maw needed.

First, we stopped at the Church of the Heavenly Prophet. That's my grandfather's church. You know all you need to know about Father Kelly by how he named his church. I only saw him on a trip to town for supplies, because we needed to stop to get the cash to buy our supplies. Paw don't have no credit at Lawrence's, and so Paw takes the list to grandpa, grandpa checks it twice, and digs into the cash box to count out what he thinks it will cost, and we haven't even got to the ordeal what takes place at Lawrence's.

Half hour before we leave the house, I hook Dobin to the wagon. Dobin is old. He was here when I arrived on the scene. Dobin don't mind pulling the wagon as long as you don't rush him. If you make the mistake of trying to rush him, you'll be sitting and waiting a spell now and again before you get to town. Paw and I both know this, and so we let Dobin goes at his own speed. It's that or we walk to town.

Dobin likes the fancy green grass that grows in patches along the trail to town. We watch him stop and nibble his way through most of those spots, but if we're patient, we could be at the church before noon, and then we go in to stand inspection in front of Father Kelly.

Paw hands him the list written in his daughter's handwriting, which he recognizes as hers. He runs his finger down each line to see if he approves. He pushes himself back and gets the cash box out of his bottom drawer and he counts out what he thinks is the proper amount for these items.

Father Kelly makes sure to speak to Paw like he's a child. He doesn't need to do that, but he likes doing it, because that's what it takes to get cash out of the Prophet. Without the cash, no supplies. We do it his way and Paw never reaches across his desk to slap him into the here and now. I wanted to do it.

This was the arrangement Maw made with her paw, because of who my Paw was. Like everything concerning Paw, it was a long story. Needless to say, going to town for supplies was never as easy as going to town and getting our supplies.

Maw had no idea how mean the Prophet was to my Paw. He never missed a chance to belittle him, because Paw had the audacity to marry his precious little girl. As if Maw had nothing to say in the matter. If I was regarded any better than my father, my grandfather didn't let on.

"Bring me the change, Jack," Father Kelly said, after pushing the cash toward Paw. "If it isn't enough, I wrote on the bottom, 'Father Kelly approves and will make good on any shortage, should there be one.' Do you understand, Jack?"

"Yes."

"Oh, Gregory, I got something here for you," my grandfather said.

Father Kelly got up and went into the corner of his office. He brung back a long thin wrapped up package. He could have saved himself the trouble. I could see it was a rifle. Nothing looked like a rifle more than a rifle did, and I wondered what this was all about.

Father Kelly was about to tell me.

"It's your birthday, Gregory. Happy birthday. You're fourteen. Now, this here gift is from your Maw. She had me order it for her. I put something toward it on account she was a bit short, but you being my grandson, and you being almost grown, I tells your Maw, 'If you're aiming to buy the boy a rifle, you let me order it for you. I'll be sure the rifle suits him. Go ahead. Open it."

I didn't want to open it, because I know the gift would be an insult to Paw. My mother had to go to her father, because Paw couldn't handle such a thing as ordering something to be sent to the cabin.

I glanced at Paw. He nodded for me to open it. He knew what was coming.

I gasped when my eyes fell upon the rifle inside the wrapping paper.

"It's a Hawkin," I said with reverence, not giving a thought to Paw.

"Best rifle made in these here parts," the Prophet informed me, as if I didn't know what a Hawkin was.

You've got to understand, my Paw would never own such a rifle. He also would never be able to buy his son one. It didn't matter what he paid for it, as long as it hit Paw where it hurt the most.

I sure admire that Hawkin. It was a man's rifle. I could bring down anything I aimed at with a Hawkin 50. With it, I aim to prove I'm a man.

It was no secret that the Prophet was against the marriage. He married them in his church, but there was no joy in it for him. He bought the farm a good ways from town. It was Maw's farm, but it stayed in Father Kelly's name. Paw was working the farm. Being out of town was agreeable to everyone.

The Prophet treated Paw like a dumb savage, because Paw was Pawnee.

An Indian didn't get credit at Lawrence's, and Paw went to the Prophet for it. Maw marrying Paw. He didn't like it, but he loved his daughter. He bought the farm in the valley where the river ran far from town. Paw agreed he'd work Father Kelly's farm. Going to him for cash for supplies being part of it.

I wasn't around when the agreement was made, and Paw sure didn't tell me that he was treated the way he was, because Indians were Indians. Maw, being Father Kelly's daughter, believed her father was being fair. She knew he was against her marriage. Love being love, she went ahead anyway.

I came along later. I was half Pawnee with white skin, so I got a pass on the Indian deal. No one was going to hold it against me, for the time being anyway.

I say this before we left the church to go get the supplies on Maw's list. What went on at the church was the easy part. We still needed to run the gauntlet at Lawrence's store. At the moment my thoughts were on the gift I'd been given at the church. I'd never owned anything of real value. I knew how valuable the rifle was, and I aimed to protect it with my life, which blunted what was coming somewhat.

Once back to the wagon, I stored the shot and powder on the floor and I carefully placed the rifle next to my seat before I climbed up.

Paw dropped in beside me. I was anxious about his reaction to the Hawkin.

"Quite a rifle," Paw said. "You can kill most anything with that gun. Don't know about one of those elephants, but it'll put down most things in these parts."

By that time I had it in my arms again. Paw could see I was pleased.

"You do know why he gave me this, Paw?"

"I know. I been dealing with the man for near abouts twenty years. This time it turned out pretty good for you. He'll go back to being a jerk the next time we come to town for supplies."

"Thing is, he really hit the target with a Hawkin. I can almost think a kind thought about grandfather, if I didn't know him better."

"The giving is done. Take care of it, and you'll always have meat. That rifle is the kind of thing fathers pass down to a son. I could never give you one."

"Wasn't that the point, Paw?"

Paw could surprise me sometimes. He didn't have a lot to say to me, but we were both wise to the Prophet.

Dobin responded to the clicking noise Paw made with his tongue. All the best grass must have been eating, Dobin was ready to go.

It wasn't far to Lawrence's. We made it out of church OK. Maybe we'd survive Lawrence's store one more time. I dreaded what was coming.

Paw didn't have no easy road to go down.

We got out at Lawrence's. I carefully put the rifle down next to my seat, picking it up once I got down. I cradled it in my arms. I was tempted to load it. I knew better. If I carried a loaded rifle in there, it might end up going off. The thought left me smiling.

It helped that we knew what was coming. It was easier being ready for the behavior of the white men we'd cross paths within Lawrence's.

Paw was always working from shortly after the sun came up, until the sun was ready to go down. Few days went by when he wasn't pulling stumps or rocks out of the ground in one of the fields. Townsmen had plenty of time to sit around. They sat around the cracker barrel in Lawrence's, until Paw arrived.

I suppose it's a good time to say, Paw's only got one arm. He lost his arm in an ambush, once he and the other warriors went after the renegades who torched their village, killing everyone in sight. Off hunting, the warriors chased the men who done it. Paw was shot in an ambush, which cost him his arm.

Maw told me that's how Paw lost his arm, after I asked her. Maw met Paw when Father Kelly found him along side the road he traveled, and he brought him home for his daughter to nurse.

I heard Paw call himself, 'Half Indian.'

That stuck with me, because he called himself half Indian. I was half Indian. I knew all about being white. I knew nothing about being Pawnee. Even then, I felt my Indian half inside of me.

I walked into Lawrence's with the Hawkin cradled in my arms. No one looked at my face before looking at that rifle. This was different. Usually, no one paid me no mind at all.

I was awkwardly helping Paw pick out the things on our list. Paw couldn't read, so I needed to match up what Maw wrote with the right item. There was always too many men inside of Lawrence's. There were six today. They'd been sitting when we arrived. They stood once they saw Paw. One of them stood at the end of any row Paw walked down. They watched him like a hawk. It was always the same. It was different men, but they kept an eye on Paw. It might have been funny if it wasn't for how dangerous it was.

Once we had the items at the counter, Paw counted out the bills for me to pay Mr Lawrence once we knew how much. We loaded the wagon and we needed to make one last trip to load it all.

We was watched from the time we got there, until we left. Leaving might sound easy, but at Lawrence's, nothing was easy.

I walked ahead of Paw with the final package we carried. When I didn't hear Paw behind me, I turned to see Paw standing nose to nose with the biggest white men at Lawrence's that day. Their noses appeared to be an inch apart.

I cringed.

Was this the time we'd need to fight our way to the door?

Paw stood right where he was for what seemed like an hour. He took a step to one side and he walked toward me without any further interruption. We were apparently free to take our leave.

As Paw turned the wagon to leave town, the six men and Lawrence stood at the open door watching. I wondered, why did some men got pleasure out of tormenting other men?

I didn't say anything and of course Paw said nothing. We returned to the church to give the Prophet his change. Soon we was on the road home. Our adventure in shopping was over, but we'd be back next month.

Paw wasn't a big man, but what I watched him do with his one arm, few white men would attempt to do with two arms. Men who had time to sit around Lawrence's store, would be a match for my Paw. Six such men, maybe.

I watched Paw digging around stems in a new field he was clearing. Once he seemed satisfied, He got his shoulder down against that stump and with one good arm and his stump, he'd work that stump up out of the ground. It was half as big as he was. He'd walk it to the edge of the new field and toss it beside the others. I couldn't lift those stumps.

A month or so ago, while I leaned on the pig pen fence, I watched Paw working to get one of those rocks out of the ground. Paw says they're part of the mountain left over from when they was built. He has a bar he uses to get under one of those big rocks, and he leans down into the hole and yanks it out. He walks this to where he piles his rocks, tossing it down.

I'm almost big as Paw now. After he left the field, I made my way over to that pile of rocks Paw done dug up. I bent over to pick up the rock he'd just tossed aside. I couldn't get it off the ground with two good arms. Paw was a man who did what needed doing. I doubt he'd break a sweat facing off with one of those men who had time to sit around Lawrence's. Six of them maybe would get the best of him. Maybe not.

Paw knew the penalty he'd pay if he lifted a hand against a white man.

I remember Sally the sow, who was forever breaking down the pig pen fence, to let the pigs into the corn. One day when Sally was at it again, Paw was in the field of half grown corn Sally picked to raid. Paw stood watching Sally as I watched him. I was going to catch it, but not so much as Sally. .

Sally knew no fear and she was heading straight for Paw. Paw didn't move. That sow weighed hundreds of pounds. Even Paw could lick a full grown sow. As she came at him, balling up his fist, just before she collided with him, Paw punched her on the side of her sow head. All four of Sally's legs kicked out from under her. She hit the ground.

Sally never broke down no more fence or lead raids into Paw's fields. My fondest memory of Sally, when I'd go into the cabin for lunch, Maw'd hand me two pieces of fresh bread pressed together with a slab of juicy ham. Those were about the best sandwiches I ever ate.

Sally taught me a valuable lesson. Never get hit by Paw.

Those were my folks and they didn't know I was leaving. It was up to me to decide on a day to go.

While I rarely knew what Paw had on his mind, we must have been having similar thoughts on our way back from town that day. He broke the silence.

"I'm not a coward, Gregory. You know why things are the way they are."

"Never thought you was, Paw. I seen how things is. Only a fool would take on six men if he didn't need to. You're a better man than any of them."

That was all that was said.

Paw didn't want his son thinking he was afraid. I was afraid he might hit that man. That would have been a fool thing to do. My father wasn't a coward and he wasn't a fool. He knew how things were.

Maw wanted to see the Hawkin as soon as I went inside.

I thanked her properly.

She said, "I wanted you to have a man's gun. I wanted you to have something you could rely on. My father said he'd order the best rifle made in these parts."

"Best rifle made anywhere, Maw. None better. I'll take care of it."

I sat on the front porch after supper on my birthday. I had a date with that mountain. It wasn't clear to me how I'd prove I was a man to Paw. I'd been pondering on it a spell. I'd need to leave to prove myself.

Once I saw that Hawkin, I knew what I'd do.