As I soaked in the river one afternoon once chores were done, two Indian boys came along the far side of the river bank. They saw me before I saw them. It wasn't unusual to see Indians passing through the valley. When they saw me, they kept moving along. Neither was much older than I was.

I'd been watching snow building on mountain peaks for a week by this time.

I didn't know when I'd leave. I knew where I was going. I knew what I'd do once I got there. I didn't know what I was waiting for.

I looked at the Indian boys passing. They both looked down into the river and when I stood up to say hello, they smiled and began chattering to each other. I didn't understand them. It wasn't Pawnee they spoke. Maw taught me more Pawnee each time Paw spoke to me in his lingo. I asked Maw what it meant.

I climbed the bank and watched them moving away. One looked back. The other one tripped over him. Getting back up, they took a last look at the naked white boy waving at them.

They were still laughing as they went on their way. They didn't look back again. I doubt they seen too many white boys who showed an interest in them. They were on my mind as I went back to soak. It was hours until supper. The day was cooler and I could feel the change in the air when I climbed out of the river and put my clothes back on. I looked at the mountain peak. I intended to leave to go shoot me a griz once there was snow on the mountain. There it was. I thought of the Indians with bows and a knife strapped to their waist. They were hunting and intended to hunt on the south side of the valley where few white men might be encountered.

Those Indian boys were a sign that the time had come. I'd been gathering the things I'd need in the barn. Every year I went hunting with Paw after harvest. Last autumn both Paw and I got a buck. It was my first buck, but Paw got a buck every autumn. It was the meat that would get us through the winter.

Maw made Paw leggings and a shirt from the deer hides. Last year, after shooting a buck with my squirrel gun, Maw made me leggings and shirt from the hide of my deer. She'd carefully measured me to be sure they fit. I was growing like a weed. I was nearly tall as Paw, but Maw took this into account. The leggins and shirt fit fine with some room left for me to grow.

Along with my bedroll, I took my buckskin leggings and shirt out to the barn some time ago. If Paw stumbled on my gear, he'd only think I was getting organized for out hunting trip, but this year, I was going hunting alone. This year, I was going hunting for a griz.

Once I brought my griz back, there'd be no doubt that I was a man.

I had a feeling of brotherhood with the two Indian boys. They couldn't see I was part Indian. What they saw was a pasty white boy watching them. If I'd had more nerve, I'd have run after them and made them sit down and talk to me, even if we didn't speak the same language.

The sight of them opened a longing deep inside of me. I wanted to know them. I wanted to know Indian. I wanted to be an Indian. My white skin was assurance that opportunity was unlikely to pass my way.

I was leaving tomorrow. I'd need to snatch some extra biscuits to put in the pouch I carried on my waist to keep food fresh. I'd already gotten smoked meat enough for two days. I'd get the Hawkin ready this evening. I'd already put the shot and balls with my gear.

I didn't know how far the mountains were from the cabin. Paw and I always stayed on the flat land to hunt. The mountain peaks looked close enough to touch. I calculated three to four days ought to do it. That would mean three to four days back, and I'd be bringing a griz back with me. That might add a day or two to the time of my return. I'd say it might take me a week to get up on the mountain, kill me my bear, prepare it for travel. I'd be home in a couple of weeks. That wouldn't give Maw too much time to fret.

In the morning, I'd get up at first light. I'd go to the barn to get into my gear and I'd cross the river before Paw was up.

Paw wouldn't notice I was gone when he got up and readied himself to get out into the fields. He'd come back for breakfast after Maw had time to get coffee on, after she was up. They weren't likely to look to see why I wasn't at the table. There were days I slept late in the summer.

Once across the river, I'd start crossing the pasture land that went as far as the eye could see. I wouldn't need to stop to hunt. I wouldn't light a fire for the first few days. Paw could track me. I didn't think he would. My absence wouldn't stir him. I was taking no chances, but because of what happened to Paw's village, he didn't leave Maw for more than a few days.

By the time they figured out I was gone, it would be later in the day. They'd think I'd pop up by supper. When I didn't, it would be too late to look to see what had become of me. Paw would see my things in the barn were gone. By that time they'd need to wait until it got light to have a look around. That would put me more than a day ahead of Paw, even if he did decide to track me. Once he was out for a day or so, he'd go back to make sure Maw was OK.

Everyone knew there were men and guns at the cabin, and they'd know better than to come prowling around unexpectedly. No one wants to get shot around someone else's property. The main worry is Indians, but no one had been kilt by Indians since I been around. Whites always fretted about such things.

According to Maw, Paw and the warriors from his village were off hunting buffalo, which wasn't as easy as it once was. They'd get a buffalo or two, fix it up for long term storage, and they'd all have meat if there was nothing else.

"Your Paw had a wife. Her name was Morning Dove. Your Paw had a new born son. His name was Fox something. I didn't ask him questions. The story was too hard for him to tell."

"What's Paw's Indian name, Maw."

"Proud Eagle."

"That's a good name," I said.

"Most of the warriors had families. They wanted revenge. Your Paw found Morning Dove and his son covered in blood. He wanted revenge too."

"I can understand," I said. "I'd want revenge."

"They were ambushed. Your father was wounded, and that's how he lost his arm. The warriors continued the pursuit, leaving your father behind. It was the last time your Paw saw any of his people."

"Why didn't he go back, Maw?"

"Nothing to go back to. The village was burned. Everyone was dead. The warriors would have fought the renegades to the death. They never came back for him. He figured they caught the renegades and fought it out with them."

The rest of the story was about Paw being nursed by Maw. They fell in love, and that's when I showed up.

Maw once told me, "Your father is the way he is because of what happened to his first family. He wasn't much older than you are now. I think he's afraid to be close to you, Gregory. Once you're grown, once you're a man, it will change. You'll see. For now, it is what it is. You need to stop fretting over it."

I suppose the Indian boys made me restless about who I am. I was more Indian than anyone knew. I was brought up in a white world. Everyone treated me like I was white. My name was Kelly, after Maw and Grandpa Kelly. No one thought it was a good idea for me to identify myself as Pawnee. It would only cause me trouble. I don't know how Paw felt about it, but I felt as if I was being cut off from my Indian half, and I didn't like it.

I didn't like what white men did. I aimed on doing something about it.

Tomorrow, I'd begin my life as a man. In a couple of weeks, I'd be back with my griz, and Paw would need to accept me as a man. I knew by the reaction of people in town, when a man got himself a griz, everyone agreed it took a man to do it. Once I did it, I wanted to be regarded that way.

Jubal Lee got himself a griz the year before. When we went to town for supplies the next month, they were still talking about it. I didn't need the towns folk to know or even care about me getting a griz. As long as Paw noticed it. Things would have to change between us.

I lay awake thinking on all sorts of things. I didn't remember falling asleep, but my eyes snapped open. It was still dark. I'd waited long enough and I got out and got dressed for my trip to the barn. I eased the door of the cabin open and shut it just as carefully.

I got into my buckskin once I reached the barn. It felt good against my skin. The coolness in the air made the outfit comfortable. I checked my food, my shot and powder, my knife, the Hawkin and the moccasins Maw made after she'd made my leggings and shirt. I liked the feel of moccasins on my feet. I'd saved them to put on before I left to get my griz.

When I crossed the river, I stopped to look back at the cabin. I knew I wouldn't be gone for that long, but for some reason, leaving felt final. I don't know why I was sad. I was starting my adventure into manhood and when I came back, I'd be a man. I wouldn't need to think about what I'd do any longer.

I moved out the way I'd seen the Indian boys moving the day before. I wondered where they were at today. I wondered if they were Lakota or Arikira.

I wanted to put as much distance between me and the cabin the first day. I'd need to stop for water in a few hours. I had a skin I could fill with water. I wouldn't do that until I stopped though the first time. No point in adding weight to the things I left the cabin with right away.

I had a biscuit and a piece of dried meat, but that was all. I kept moving as the sun shined behind me. As it came up and got higher in the sky, the day warmed considerably. It was warmer than I expected to be, but the skins were warm. The sun warmed me more. It would be cooling in the next week, if the past weather was any indication of what this year's weather would be like.

I kept moving, although I could no longer see the mountain peaks. I suppose as I got closer to them, I wouldn't have the same view I got when I sat on the porch at the cabin. I halfway expected to be able to see the mountain peaks all the way there, but like most things, I had little experience that told me how things would look while I was moving toward them.

Paw taught me how to hunt. I had the clothes to keep me plenty warm on the mountain thanks to Maw. I had me a Hawkin rifle to bring down my griz.

It was as if the pieces fell into place on my birthday. Once I finished with school, I wasn't sure how to prove to Paw I was a man. Father Kelly furnished the means for me to accomplish that. A little thing like crossing paths with those Indian boys the day before, told me my time had come.

I sat munching dried meat and a biscuit, once I stopped for a drink. My adventure had started. It was warmer than I expected. I'd carry my shirt over my shoulders to cushion my bedroll and gear. I was sweating, but sitting in the shade of a grove of trees in the midst of the pasture land was nice. I could have fallen asleep, but there was Paw to worry about. He could track me. I didn't think he would, but to do what I set out to do, I had to keep moving.

It was wide open land with no obstacles. A few outcroppings of rock appeared in the pasture land from time to time. It was generally flat, although I sensed I might be climbing a bit as I walked.

I saw the forest hours before I reached it. There they were, dead ahead. I thought I was right there, but I kept walking and walking. I realized when I was done on the first day. I'd been slowing my pace and as dark approached, I needed to find me a good spot to camp.

There was no hunting or even a fire the first day. I didn't know if Paw was on my trail, but setting a fire would direct him right to me if he was. I'd bed down in some trees off to my right. I didn't open my bedroll. It was too warm. I used it for a pillow, leaning back, I went right to sleep. I was plumb tuckered out.

I was careful when I got up the next day. I checked the pasture to see if I saw any movement. I still feared Paw would stop me. I was taking no chances.

I calculated that Maw was busy the morning before. She wouldn't notice I hadn't gotten up. It was laundry day and she'd be out back mostly. Once she hung the clothes, she'd come in to fix Paw's lunch. They might wonder where I got off to, but a lot of days I got distracted by one thing or another. If they thought about it, they wouldn't be ready to go looking for me.

By supper time, Maw would know I hadn't eaten all day. She would never miss the biscuits I took with me, and the dried meat was stored in the root cellar. No one would go there to look for signs I'd been about. By supper time, dark was closing in, and if Paw intended to track me, he wouldn't start until today.

I was still careful as I headed toward the forest I knew was ahead of me. Things happened in a way I didn't figure on. Paw could have gone to the barn right off. He might have seen my bedroll and gear before. He might have seen it was gone, and then, when he checked to see where the Hawkin was, he'd know.

It was cool that morning. I enjoyed walking. Right on the other side of the forest I was just then coming to, were the mountains, and in another day or two, I'd start my climb up to where the griz lived.

I thought it was going quite well. Paw might not track me at all. He didn't know what I was up to, but being gone would get him thinking. Maw'd miss me. She'd fret some. Until I got my griz, I intended to be on that mountain, which I figured to be another two to three days away.

I could see it at the front porch at the cabin. Why couldn't I see it now?

The only thing that could prevent me from getting my griz left my mind sometime during the second day. I munched on a biscuit and then a piece of dried meat. I crossed a field and faced the forest ahead of me. Trees were spaced nicely to make it easy for a man on foot. The bugs weren't spaced nearly far enough apart. I put my shirt back on to avoid having mosquitoes eat me alive.

The going was easy. It was cooler out of the sun. I made sure I was moving in the same direction as the sun. The sun set behind the mountain in the west.

By the time I was in among the trees for an hour, I reached into my food pouch and came to the final piece of meat and there was one biscuit left. I didn't realize I was eating so much. I didn't eat the last of my food.

I needed to hunt soon. I needed to build a fire to cook my kill. I needed a space for my gear and a fire. It would be close to where I wanted to hunt. There weren't a lot of clearings, but when I stopped at a stream to drink, I noticed a spot up stream a ways.

Once I drank my fill, I moved beside the stream and came to an open space that was larger than I needed. I had plenty of room and water too. I put down my gear and walked to an elevated spot a few dozen yards away. There was a good chance a critter would come to the stream to drink, and I'd get me supper.

I would look for a brook or a place to have a good soak. I felt a bit sweaty and sticky from my encounter with most species of bugs in these here parts. While it would be nice to feel clean, the nature of my quest might mean not bathing for a spell. I was lucky to find plenty of good fresh water to drink.

I wanted to get to the mountain, but there was no rush. The griz weren't going anywhere before I got there. If I took my time, I'd be better fit to hunt for my griz. Once I got my griz, there was the problem of getting him back to the cabin. I'd work on that. Some problems couldn't be solved until you got to them.

I sat on a rise a few dozen yards from my gear. The rise furnished me with two trees to lean against, and a carpet of grass that felt good against my butt. Not being in motion was nice. Not walking was nicer. I didn't realize how tired my legs were. Sitting on a rise next to the stream relaxed me, I felt very good.

Whether walking or sitting still, my mind was soon working on the images of Maw sewing on the buckskin I was wearing. It was as comfortable as Paw said. It was warm but not hot and I hadn't reached the mountain. It would be colder there and I'd be happy to have the buckskin.

I sat facing the stream. I could hear the water rushing over the rocks. It was soft, like the birds in the trees. I could see where the noise was being made, but hearing it reassured me that all was right with me and the task at hand.

I closed my eyes for a minute, and before I knew it, I was back at the cabin. I felt refreshed after coming out of the river. I was hungry and I went to the cabin for supper.

I watched Maw working on my leggings and shirt. I watched her hands sewing the hides together. All of a sudden, Paw was sitting with her.

"Use the tendon from the deer like I showed you. It will never break."

Paw said the words in Pawnee. I understood them now, but at the time, I asked Maw, "What did he say about using the tendon of the deer, Maw?"

Maw would explain the words and how they fit together. Each time I heard Paw speaking Pawnee, once I had Maw all to myself, I asked her what he said. When Paw cussed in the field and yelled Pawnee at the sky, I heard the words and remembered them to ask Maw what they meant. It's how I learned Paw's lingo. I didn't recognize all the words, but I recognized many more of them now.

There was something exciting about learning Pawnee. This was a piece of me no one saw or recognized. This was a piece of me I wanted to know. Paw could have taught me, but he didn't. He knew way more than I knew, and if he was tempted to teach me about being Pawnee, it never showed.

I opened my eyes and saw a squirrel. Yes, it would have filled the hole in my stomach, except once I shot it with the Hawkin, there's be no meat left. The Hawkin was a powerful rifle and the animals I shot had to be big enough to take a shot from the Hawkin and leave some meat that was fit to eat.

Even after I got the Hawkin, I hunted with the squirrel gun. I had a limited amount of shot for the Hawkin, and I would save it for when I went after my griz. The meat for our table could be squirrel, rabbit, woodchuck, or even a fox Maw could make taste heavenly. The squirrel gun was fine. I kept what the Hawkin was for at the back of my mind. Soon enough, after my birthday, I'd hunt with it. Until then, I used the gun I'd been using since I went with Paw on our first deer hunt.

My eyes opened again, after not knowing I closed them. It seemed cooler. It was as light. I needed to shoot me something before I lost all the light.

Maw surprised me with the moccasins at Christmas. I never saw her put a stitch in those, but there they were, soft and supple. I loved the feel of them on my feet. They were better than any store bought shoe.

No one was going to see me out here. I'd wear hides for convenience and comfort, not to look good. I had no idea how Maw made moccasins out of deer hide.

I took one off to examine it. I saw where Maw stitched it. I didn't know I could do it the same way. I wouldn't know until these wore out. I had a general idea of how to do it. Maybe these would last.

I knew better than to wear moccasins to school. I wanted to wear them, but wearing them would be asking for trouble. I didn't do anything to act white. In this case, appearance is everything. I look white to people who see me.

I don't feel white. I don't feel Pawnee. I don't know what I feel. What kind of man will I be if one part of me is never recognized.

Since I left, my mind was frequently on the cabin in the valley where the river ran. I never thought about being there while I was there. Except now, after I'm gone, my mind sees it more clearly than ever. I don't plan to be gone long. It ain't like it's going nowhere.

If I don't shoot something, I'll go hungry. It won't take long if I tend to it.

I suppose Paw didn't treat me so badly. He just didn't have much to say to me. He had no difficulty doing what he set out to do. Paw never hit me. After what I saw him do to Sally the sow, that had to be a good thing. I imagine Paw knew how strong he was. I never seen him treat a man or an animal badly.

I want more than he can give me. I guess that's the meaning of dissatisfied. The Pawnee living inside of me wanted out. It was the other problem Paw could solve but wouldn't. Looking across two days at him didn't help none. Maybe the entire griz thing was about what was inside of me. I didn't know no other boys who wanted to get them a griz. None of the other boys was Pawnee.

It all made a lot more sense to me while I was at the cabin.

I sure was hungry. Maw'd be cooking supper right now. I could turn back and say, "I got lost."

I wasn't going back without my griz. I'd finish what I started.

I knew Paw wasn't coming after me. I wanted to believe he was. Paw had Maw and the farm to care for. I knew my way home.

It was up to me to decide when to return.

I doubt a fourteen-year-old boy can grow up over two days, but I had thoughts I didn't have before. There's nothing like freedom to clear your head.

It was clear what I needed to do. I needed to shoot me supper.

As I laid in the grass next to the pasture last night, I thought about when I went hunting with Paw. I watched and listened to everything he did and said. I learnt to build a fire first.

I'd used the squirrel gun to shoot varmints around the house, and he taught first me to keep it clean. Once he got a buck that first time, I watched him clean it. He skinned it and cutting it in pieces to make it easier to carry. When I was nine, and he first took me hunting for the meat we'd need for the winter, I was excited to see all the things he did.

I got up early the morning after he shot the buck, and I went to a clearing I found the day before. I sat down watching the stream nearby. I did what Paw showed me the day before. He'd waited near the same stream, and the deer had walked out of the forest to drink. I smiled when I remembered it, and as I focused on the stream, a big fat raccoon stuck his head up after drinking his fill.

When I shot him, Paw came running to see what I was shooting at.

"Why are you firing your gun?" he asked.

"I got us breakfast, Paw," I said, holding up the raccoon.

I swear he almost cracked a smile when he saw what I shot.

"Your family will never go hungry if you know how to hunt."

I skinned and cleaned the raccoon with some help from Paw.

I don't know how many times since that first hunting trip, Paw said, "Go shoot us something for supper. I'm not going to be able to get away to do it."

He knew I'd come back with something. I always did. I was a good hunter.

Now, I was out trying to shoot my own supper. I wasn't having any luck at all, because my mind was full of the times Paw and me went hunting together. I wasn't hankering on going hungry. I needed to pay attention to what I was doing. I focused on the stream, leaning back against the tree where I sat waiting.

The rabbit was a fair size. I was watching him munch on some choice grass before I raised the Hawkin and fired.

I fixed my fire and while it got going good, I prepared the rabbit meat. The hide was big and soft. I didn't realize how soft rabbit fur was. I'd kilt me dozens of rabbits, but this fur was the nicest I'd seen. I was going to hold on to it. I knew hides helped keep many a trapper warm in the dead of winter. I would save my hides and roll them up in my bedroll to make them easy to carry.