Grizzly King

Chapter 20

That night, while Langdon and Otto were making new plans, Mitusen sat there with a blank face, smoking a cigarette, staring at Langdon from time to time, as if he still couldn't believe what happened that afternoon.Afterwards, on many moonlit nights, Mitusen never forgot to tell his children, grandsons, and tribal friends how he once hunted with a white man who shot and killed a grizzly bear to save him. own hound.In his eyes, Langdon was no longer that Langdon.Mitusen knew that after this hunt, he would never hunt with Langdon again.Langdon had changed, something was wrong with his head.The gods took his heart and gave it to Grizzly.

Mitusen held his pipe in his mouth and watched Langdon cautiously.He saw Otto and Langdon working on a cowhide, which confirmed his suspicions.Mitusen realized that the cubs would accompany them on the long journey.Now, Mitusen was sure that something was wrong with Langdon.

In the eyes of Indians, this eccentric character is not good for people.

The next morning, as the sun rose, they prepared their packs for the long journey to the northern lands.Otto and Langdon lead the way up the slope, over the divide, and into the valley where they first met Thor.Behind the two of them was a strange procession, walking slowly one by one, and Mitusen was in the rear, with Mascar in the cowhide basket.

Langdon was both satisfied and delighted.

"It was the best hunt of my life," he said to Otto. "I will never regret letting him go."

"You have become a good-hearted person." Otto said rudely, "If I follow my method, then Thor's fur will be carried on the back of the Disban horse.

On the railway line ahead, almost all the passengers would scramble to buy this skin, the price is one hundred dollars. "

"To me, Thor's life is worth thousands." Langdon replied inexplicably.After finishing speaking, he slipped to the back of the team to see the situation of Mascar in the leather basket.

The cub rolled around in the leather crate, like a novice sitting in a seat on the back of an elephant for the first time.Langdon watched Muska thoughtfully.After a while, he rushed to Otto again.

In the next two or three hours, Langdon visited Masca six times in a row, and every time he returned to Otto, he became silent, as if he was arguing with himself.

At nine o'clock they came to the end of Thor's valley.In front of the valley stands a mountain, square and square, and the stream along the way turns westward abruptly and enters a narrow canyon.On the east side, a green, undulating land rose, where the horses could walk easily, toward Driftwood, and pack their packs into another valley.Otto decided to go this route.

On the slopes they stopped halfway to let the horses catch their breath.Muska whimpered in the cowhide, as if begging for something.Langdon heard it, but ignored it.He kept looking back towards the valley.The morning sun was shining brightly, and Langdon could see the mountain peaks, and below them the cold, dark lake where Thor had fished; he looked up, and the miles of slopes, like green velvet, seemed like green velvet in Thor's world. Here, the low hum reached Langdon's ears for the last time.Suddenly, he wondered, it seemed to him like a kind of carol, a hymn, applauding him for leaving things intact when he left.However, did he really leave the original things behind?His ears couldn't hear it. The music in the mountains was sad and plaintive. Was it a sad prayer?

At this time, Mascar who was beside him whimpered softly again.

Then, Langdon turned to Otto and said, "Think it over!" Langdon's voice was firm, "I've been trying to make up my mind this morning, and now I've finally made up my mind. After the horses are on the road, you and Mitusen will continue Hurry up. I rode back a mile or so and released the cub, where he'll find his way back!"

Before Otto could argue or express his opinion, he picked up Mascar and rode back south.In fact, Otto neither argued nor had an opinion.

Langdon walked a mile down the valley until he came to an open meadow.There, spruce and willow groves dotted the meadows, and the flowers were fragrant.Langdon dismounted, sat on the grass, and spent ten minutes with Muska.Langdon pulled a small paper bag from his pocket, and he fed the cub sugar one last time.Muska's small, soft nose touched the palm of his hand, and Langdon choked up.Finally, Langdon jumped into the saddle, his eyes clouded with tears.He smiled reluctantly, maybe he was weak-willed, but he loved Mascar.He knew that he was going to leave Muska who had surpassed his human friends in this valley.

"Goodbye, old man," he said, his voice choking, "goodbye, flamethrower! Maybe one day I'll come back to see you. You'll grow up and be a ferocious black bear, but I Not shooting, never, never."

Langdon galloped north.After running for three hundred yards, he turned his head and looked: Muska was still following, but gradually he couldn't keep up.Langdon waved.

"Goodbye!" he choked out, "Goodbye!"

Half an hour later, Langdon was on the crest of the hill looking down through binoculars.He saw Masca, a tiny black dot.The cub stopped, waiting for Langdon to return, full of confidence.

Langdon tried to smile again, but couldn't. There was nothing but sadness and resentment.Finally, he rode across the watershed and left Masca.

(End of this chapter)