“I’ve been in the Rounds and I’m on my way to see some friends near the Bottoms,” Breister replied. The Grizzly Bear looked him over closely, peering directly into his face, looking for any hint of dishonesty.
“What’s yer business, and who ya seen?” the Grizzly Bear growled again, fingering a long stout coil of rope that hung from his belt, next to a long Bowie knife. “We’re looking for some Cougar bandits that are in need of this rope,” the tracker snarled unpleasantly. “There’s two nasties that especially need this rope,” he continued. “One’s called Broken Eye, and the other’s Slasher Annie. They’s been terrorizing the innocents in the Bottoms. We tracked them up into the mountains and lost ’em...” The Grizzly Bear ran his finger along the scar on his nose. “This here’s the calling card of those dirtbags,” he declared angrily. “Ya seen anyone?”
“I hope you get that Broken Eye fellow,” Breister replied calmly. “I hope that scalawag gets just what he deserves,” Breister added. “He attacked me up in the mountains, so I’m glad to see you’re after him.” Breister felt happy. Maybe he could keep them away from the subject of Annie.
“Who ya seen,” the Grizzly Bear repeated. He obviously was determined to be thorough.
“I saw an old Owl and his wife,” Breister replied simply. “That’s all I’ve seen in days.”
“An old Owl and his wife,” the Grizzly Bear repeated, looking intently at Breister. “Ya sure that’s all ya seen?”
“Yes,” Breister replied with conviction, “I can assure you that that is all I’ve seen—an old Owl and his wife.”
The Grizzly Bear reached into the pocket of his barkskin coat. He handed Breister a blue pebble. “This is our trackin’ stone,” he explained. “We leave it with ya. You see a sign of Broken Eye and his gang and you show that stone to any law officer and they’ll know that’s our team. They’ll know how to find us.”
Breister thanked them. “If I see that old scoundrel or his gang,” Breister assured the trackers, “I’ll use the tracking stone. You can be sure of that.”
Satisfied, the Grizzlies moved on. Breister walked on a few steps and prepared to leave the stream behind, as he turned inward toward Toshty’s cabin. “Well,” he said to himself looking at the tracking stone, “Broken Eye and his gang are no more. There’s no need for this.” Saying this, Breister skipped the blue stone out across the stream, where it sank to the bottom.
He continued on his way, reaching Toshty’s cabin in the middle of the afternoon. He made a cheerful fire in the hearth, ate a modest meal of Bison bread, and settled in to wait for Toshty’s students. He was especially looking forward to meeting JanWoo-Corriboo. Perhaps she could help him find Helga.
Reunited
Breister was sound asleep, not expecting any visitors to Toshty’s cabin until the following day, when there was a loud rap at the door.
“Come on, Toshty, wake up!” JanWoo-Corriboo yelled. “I know I’m early for my lesson, but things have gone a little differently than I planned. We’ve got some friends that need your help!”
Groggily, Breister sat up and rubbed his eyes. It was pitch black. The fire in the hearth had died down to embers. It must be the middle of the night. Who was knocking at this hour?
“Who’s there?” Breister called. “Toshty is not here. I’m his friend, Breister, who is supposed to wait here for some of Toshty’s friends to arrive. Who are you?” Breister had not yet opened the door, waiting for reply.
There was a brief silent pause on the other side of the door, and then pandemonium broke out. There was joyful yelling and shouting and banging on the door! “Papa! Papa! It’s Helga! I’m here! Open the door!”
Completely dumbfounded, Breister threw open the door to the wild embrace of his long-lost daughter. An emotional rejoining of a broken circle of friends occurred. Breister put new kindling on the embers of the fire and soon there was the happy sound of laughter and the smell of fresh Bison coffee being brewed.
Helga was surprised by the smell. “Bison Coffee!” she exclaimed. “Why, I haven’t smelled that in a while, but it’s a smell you never forget! You’ve been to the Rounds, haven’t you?” she gasped, looking at Breister.
“Yes, yes, my dear,” Breister replied, “I spent a week in the home of Sareth and Elbin Abblegurt.” He smiled at his daughter, knowing how much this pleased her.
“Well, I can certainly see that there’s a long story to catch up on,” Helga chuckled.
“Yes,” Breister agreed, “there is much to tell.”