Canyons by Gary Paulsen Read Free Book Online Page B

must hide beneath the boulder. Cover himself with dirt and hide there and let the spirits take the soldiers the wrong way.
    He worked in beneath the boulder, back in the crack where it met the earth, and carefully covered himself with sand and dust so that he would not show and thought still that he would do this, could do this thing.
    And now they came.
    Three of them. They must have left one to stay with the horses. Three of the soldiers came and he smelled them before he saw them. They smelled of strange sweat and some smell that came from the wool in their clothing and tobacco and hair on their faces—some mixed small of all that together.
    White smell.
    Bluebelly smell.
    Pony soldier smell.
    Death smell.
    Then he saw them. All three were walking side by side, about ten yards apart, staring intently at the spring, the small cottonwoods, the big rifles held in front of them, ready.
    Ready for him. Ready to shoot him.
    Now, he thought—now must my medicine be strong and the spirits come to help me. Now there must be help.
    They were so close now, so close he could see that one of them had a small cut on his cheek and that the blood had dried black. The man was large, squinting in the sun, and in the same sun, in the new morning light Coyote Runs saw his end, his death.
    As he watched the soldiers begin to pass, his eyes fell on the ground in front of them and there it was, his betrayal.
    His ankle had left a small trail of blood, smears here and there on the rocks and in the dirt. He had not thought of that. Had not considered that he would leave blood.
    Still he had a moment of hope. They were almost past it, past the small blood trail and he thought, oh, yes, I will live yet, I will not die in this place. I will live, I will live, I will live.…
    Then the bluebelly saw it.
    The soldier on the right stopped suddenly andlooked down and Coyote Runs thought, no, not now, hide me medicine but knew, knew it was too late.
    The soldier’s eyes followed the scuffs and patches of blood up and to the right, up and up the eye came until he was looking at the rock.
    He said something, a low word to the other two men, and they stopped.
    Take me now, spirit, Coyote Runs thought—take me up and away now, away and away from this place. Take me.
    They saw him.
    But they did not shoot.
    They walked up to where he lay beneath the overhang of the rock, stood there, strong and tall and ugly and blue and stinking of white sweat they stood there and looked down on him.
    Coyote Runs did not move, lay looking up at them, sought his spirit, sought his soul. Away now, take me away from this place, spirit.…
    The man who had first seen him said something again, not to Coyote Runs but the other two men, and they all laughed. Words Coyote Runs did not understand, but the laughter he knew. It was hard laughter.
    Then the soldier said something to him.
    It was some kind of order, but he could not understand it. Some strong word. Maybe he swore.
    Coyote Runs looked at him, shook his head. I do not know what you mean.
    Then the soldier leaned down, still smiling, and put the muzzle of his rifle against Coyote Runs’ forehead and he thought, no, not now, I will go with you, I am in the wrong place, take me, spirit, take me now quickly before, before, before.…
    There was an enormous white flash, a splattering flash of white and the start of some mad noise to end all noises and then there was nothing.
    Nothingness.

10

    Brennan snapped awake and sat up.
    He was scared, no, worse, terrified. Short breaths, pants that puffed in and out, his eyes wide, nostrils flared and the night, the night all around and closing on him and he did not know why.
    Did he dream?
    He could not think wholly of it, if there had been one. There were the edges of something, some greater horror that he did not understand. A stink he did not know, and pain, horrible pain in his leg and head and it had slammed him awake.
    Hard awake.
    He fought to control his breathing, got it