An Outcast In The Wilderness

Howdy folks and greetings from the Great Plains of North Texas!

We're in a series about the Wild West and the incredible story of an 11 year old German boy, Hermann, who was captured by an Apache war party from his family's farm in 1870 in Central Texas.

He's now about 16 years old at this point in the story and has become a full blown warrior who hates and fears the White man.

Yesterday's post

In the last post Hermann was forced to run for his life from his tribe after killing the medicine man who had killed his master, chief and adopted father. He knew he was being chased by a war party so he rode like crazy for many, many days.

Thanks to the chief's sister he had a magnificent horse with great speed and incredible endurance which gave him a huge advantage. He traveled through rugged hills, vast plains and deserts. The deserts were the worst.

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Finally he came upon a deep canyon with a small stream at the bottom.

Today's story

It was well hidden and in many places the walls were straight up and down and it took him a long time to find a path down to the water. The water was clean, clear, and pure. There was thick grass along the stream with large Cottonwood trees lining the banks.

Lots of animal tracks were there of those who came to drink at this hidden oasis. It felt like a little slice of heaven to Hermann. Up on one of the canyon walls was a nice cave which he took shelter in at night.

He decided to stay there. Fresh water, plenty of game that came right to him and an abundance of grass for his horse. They had everything they needed. It was like a secret oasis.
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He got used to being alone

Hermann kind of lost track of time when he was there but he reckoned he was there for about 8 months but it could have been longer. He got used to being alone, really for the first time in his life.

But after a few weeks he was used to it and accepted the fact that this was his lifestyle now. A hermit in the wilderness with no family, no tribe, no friends, but an enemy to all because that's what he considered the Apache to be.

A rude awakening

One night he was asleep in his cave when he was awakened by a strange sound. He wasn't sure what it was but it sounded like a human voice. Then he heard it again, it was definitely human because this time he recognized that it was a laugh.

He got up and walked along the edge and looked around a rock and he could see a large camp fire a couple hundred yards away. He couldn't tell what race they were so he carefully made his way down to the banks of the stream and stealthily approached through the trees until he could hear their conversation.

Rats afire!

They were dog gone Apaches! And from his own tribe no less... he knew them. Pulling back, he went back to his cave and gathered his supplies including a bunch of dried venison, got his horse and rode out of there.

There was a gap in the canyon that emptied out onto a plain above the spring and that's where he went.

He bade farewell to his little Garden of Eden and struck out toward the East, running from the same enemy that he'd run from 8 months ago and just like then, not knowing where he was headed or into what.

Hermann's wilderness experience continues on the next post.

Thanks for reading folks, God bless you all!
-jonboy
Texas
the gentleman redneck

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