Love Poem: A Mountain Man's Tale, Part Iii
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Written by: David Welch

A Mountain Man's Tale, Part Iii

III.
“Eagle Vision says since his own son died
he’s felt a hollow no raiding can fill,
that men should be fathers, pass their wisdom
to adopt you as his own is his will.

“From this day forth you’ll be Absaroka,
the people that some others know as ‘Crow.’
He says the vision from which his name comes
is being fulfilled, their ways you will know.”

Reid was shocked, and went nervously along
to a teepee in the center of camp,
Eagle Vision motioned him to go in,
inside his wife and two daughters did stand.

He couldn’t understand what they all said,
but they seemed to be welcoming of him,
the two small girls even wanted to play,
his life with his Crow family did begin.

Now it wasn’t easy-going at first,
it took a year to master the Crow tongue,
and other boys teased him for being pale,
the way that children often do when they’re young.

This lasted until he socked one in the jaw,
from that day he earned begrudging respect,
and Eagle Vision was a patient man,
soon with the people did young Reid connect.

But one thing they noticed in that first year,
a streak of gray born of stress in his hair,
which of course lead them to call him Grey Fox,
that was his name as long as he was there.

Reid Gray Fox grew up into a strong man,
was taught to hunt, taught to fight, taught to ride,
and since he spoke English elders like him,
he helped them speak with folks from the outside.

They trickled in, trappers clad in warm skins,
some would stay with them, some even took wives,
they’d pay them with gifts to traverse their land,
still chasing after those fine beaver hides.

Reid knew how to trap beaver from his dad,
told Eagle Vision he’d go to the hills,
if outsiders could make money on furs
they why not him, to help pay trader's bills?

Eagle Vision didn’t seem sure at first,
he thought a warrior was a man’s trade,
but Reid felt it stealing to take horses,
he’d never once chose to go on a raid.

But the young man made a good argument,
and he could bring white man’s gold to the tribe,
so he gave his son permission to go,
away into the Rockies Reid did ride.

The first winter he didn’t have much luck,
as with all things there was a learning curve,
but as time went on his traps yielding plews,
Reid came hot with lots of money he’d earned.

His family and band prospered that year,
they bought blankets and trade guns and steel tools,
and his new mother lavished him with praise,
said, “Grey Eagle, I am so proud of you.”