In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

78 Footprints Devil Creek I. Heat like a hammer hits and a swarm of mosquitoes has at me in a frenzy. First the wretched blackberry thicket, then through an endless stand of cane that traps and keeps the heat. Now the cooling creek where I soak my feet in water sluicing thinly over slick rock. There I see them, footprints in red sandstone , some bare, others moccasined. Left foot, right foot, a man’s track, here a child. A large bird stalks them. Another left foot with a long big toe, the next two missing. I touch the tracks, amazed at feet in solid rock before 79 Shawnee and Cherokee. Who were they who crossed here alone, long enough ago for steps in sand to turn to stone? II. The boy hurries to keep up. The crippled one slows down for him. The great blue heron comes later. Seashells and gaudy feathers traded south a month ago are now a burden in the northward journey home. Even the boy must carry, and they must hurry. The sun is going and they need a fire against the night. Long-toothed cats will soon be hunting. The serious heron crosses behind them, nervous at its own movement in the falling light, and strikes at one last fish in haste then flies with a squawk to its secret roosting place. ...

Share