Absaroka Ambush

AUTHOR’S NOTE

The various Indian tribes who knew him called him Ghost Walker, White Wolf, Killing Ghost, and a dozen other names, all attesting to the man’s ability as a fighting man who had no equal. The other mountain men called him Preacher. He had walked and ridden into the high mountains as a mere boy, and had not been west of the Mississippi since then. His home was the High Lonesome. The Big Empty. Preacher was a lean-hipped, wide-shouldered, heavily muscled man of average height for the time. Many women thought him ruggedly handsome. Preacher was a man to ride the river with. He liked his coffee hot, black, and strong, his whiskey raw, and his women lively.

He thought he was about thirty-five years or so, but he wasn’t real sure about that. And while the mountain man known as Preacher was by no means the first mountain man ever to ride the High Lonesome. He was there during the good ol’, wild ol’ times, and he rode with the best of them. Preacher lasted long after the final chapter was written about the breed called Mountain Man, continuing to gain fame as an army scout, a warrior, a leader of wagon trains, and an Indian fighter. Preacher named creeks and rivers that still bear the names he gave them.

Many modern-day campers and hikers return from the high mountains with wild tales of seeing a ghost rider ambling along. Some say he sings old songs; others say they have awakened to find this old mountain man squatting beside the dying embers of their fire, drinking coffee right out of the pot. They say that he smiles at them, stands up silently, and then disappears into the night. Still others have said they have seen a man dressed all in buckskin playing with wolves and cougars.

One camper awakened in the dead of night to the sight of an old man standing over him, and when he recovered from his shock, asked the ghostly old mountain man his name.

“Preacher,” the apparition replied.