And what of humming birds?
“Yes ma’am,” he said, “they do buzz about in the summer.”
I explained that I would very much like to observe their nesting behavior this summer, but I suspected I would have to venture up the hill away from the barracks.
“I’d advise against that,” he said. “There are some hellacious brambles up there.”
I assured him that I am in possession of both stout boots and a stout heart. To which he said nothing, and we were again at an awkward impasse.
I wondered aloud, then, if the humming birds here are much like those back East. In Vermont, the ruby-throated humming bird often builds its nests near fresh water, I said, in the branch of an oak or maple tree. Certainly there are different species of trees here, but perhaps the Rufous share these same preferences.
He was, I think, taken aback that I should be knowledgeable and curious in such a way.
“Well, that being the case, a body might try following the creek down past there.” He pointed toward the northeast and said that if I followed the creek up the hill, it would lead to a marsh where I might “poke about” and find something.
“But you best wait until you are well, and your Colonel returns,” he said. “I don’t need him chasing me down for neglect.”
I told him there is no need for concern?—?for now, I am very much confined by circumstance.
Lieut. Col. Allen Forrester
April 28, 1885
Even with Sgt. Tillman & Lieut. Pruitt as witnesses, I resist putting this down. How do we account for such an occurrence? We are hungry, it is true, but I have been nearer starvation & not suffered such hallucinations. Is it possible we have encountered a natural intoxicant? I can think of nothing unusual we have ingested. We have not even eaten the salmon we received from the Midnooskies, as we were saving it for more desperate times.
I have no way to account for it, only truth as I have perceived it & which I will try to relay here.
Before dawn, Tillman, Pruitt, & I set out for the marshland to hunt the Canada geese we have seen fly overhead. Boyd & Samuelson were to travel up a nearby valley?—?they continue to look for precious metals in these mountains.
Our hope was to reach the marsh as the sun was rising, so as to find the geese before they took wing. The morning was clear & cold. We walked up the river valley for a mile or so. As we neared the marsh, through the willows we heard a cacophony.
?—?Geese? Tillman mouthed silently.
I was not sure. At first, it sounded much like waterfowl?—?restless honks & the occasional flap of wing & splash. Then my ear would catch something else, a laugh or word.
We crept through the brush, emerged at the edge of the wetland. We faced directly into first light as it broke through the mountains. Frost & brittle ice had formed during the cold night, but a small stream ran open among the hummocks of dead grass. Although not much wider than a stride, the stream was clear & shoulder deep.
Not far off, near a stand of large cottonwood trees, at least two dozen women gathered. Some sat on the grass, others waded & swam. Their hair shone long & black in the sun. They wore hide tunics similar to those favored by Alaska Indians, but these skins were of a paler shade, a near white, & without adornments.
Tillman stumbled out of the brush at this inopportune moment, grabbed at the willows as he tripped. Pruitt put a finger to lips, but it was too late for the commotion had startled the women. Several looked in our direction, shrieked at the sight of us.
Soon all were shouting & fleeing. As they scattered, they splashed through the water and it caught the glare of the rising sun. It was a blinding scene. In that same instant, countless wild geese took flight from the very midst of the women, so that wing & black hair, scream & strangled honk were indistinguishable from one another.
None of us would shoot in the direction of the women, so we were stalled. Then, from perilously near, we heard the sound of arrows in flight. We all crouched, raised our rifles, but their aim was not us. The Midnooskies had come with the same intention to hunt geese.
Arrows struck several of the birds before they could gain altitude. The geese fell, flopped in the marsh. The Indians continued to send their arrows.
?—?They’ll hit the women, Tillman said.
Indeed, it was true. Pruitt pointed towards the cottonwoods, where one of the women flailed against a tree.
The Indians lowered their bows. Those geese that had not been killed were now airborne & out of reach. The women had vanished, all but the one who had been struck.
We walked upstream to her, with several Midnooskies trailing us.