Quotes from Michael Punke

Blood oozed from deep puncture wounds at his neck and shoulder. His right arm flopped unnaturally. From the middle of his back to his waist, the bear's raking claws left deep, parallel cuts. It reminded Harris of tree trunks he had seen where bears mark their territory, only these marks were etched in flesh instead of wood. On the back of Glass's thigh, blood seeped through his buckskin breeches. Harris

Yet for Glass the fort did not mark a finish line to cross with elation, but rather a starting line to cross with resolve. With new equipment and his increasingly healthy body, he now had advantages that he had lacked in the past six weeks. Still, his goal lay far away.

How do you escape something that comes from inside? The revenant, he knew, searched for him.

significance could be found in a

What Fitzgerald and Bridger had done was much more than abandonment, much worse. These were not mere passersby on the road to Jericho, looking away and crossing to the other side. Glass felt no entitlement to a Samaritan's care, but he did at least expect that his keepers do no harm.

Reaching Fort Brazeau seemed markedly anticlimactic. True, it was a milestone. Yet for Glass the fort did not mark a finish line to cross with elation, but rather a starting line to cross with resolve.

In the foyer of their building they displayed a large globe, one of the few in Philadelphia. On his way home from school each day, Hugh stopped in the office, spinning the globe on its axis, his fingers exploring the oceans and mountains of the world.

The day was typical of early September, sunny and crisp in the morning, hot by afternoon.

But the ledger had two sides. It was a relief not to worry any longer about puffing up his chest for the benefit of others. He found himself treasuring small glimpses of life that as a younger man he might have galloped right past. And there were still plenty of ridgelines to keep him wondering.

Indeed, if there was one emotion that the mountains evoked as he grew older, it was humility. Looming peaks would always provide a welcome dash of the unknown, but more and more the mountains comforted Bridger for their timeless constancy, their steady presence, an anchor against the decades. They made him feel small, reminded him he was small, reminded some others who needed the reminding.

Still, he thought, there was no luck at all in standing still. The