The delicate spring flowers shyly displayed their new attire as we stepped lightly along the rough stone-filled trail. Butterflies, some golden, some blue, darted in front of us, as if to lead the way.
We had not sensed that this was anything more than a short day hike from Bozeman that early June day. My wife Theresa, daughter Maria, her husband Mark and I drove up Springhill Road north of town to the trailhead overlooking the valley.
Stopping for a break and looking behind us, I was struck by the beauty around us. Snow-capped peaks, bright green spring grass, a couple of tethered horses and two faces under straw western hats peeking from behind a bush; breathtaking indeed. Wait; two faces behind a bush…? Was this a mirage? Not wanting the others to think the elevation was affecting my vision, I remained silent.

Proceeding up the path, we stopped again to observe all that was offered. Quietly looking toward some bushes down the trail, I again saw the outlines of two persons. Okay, we were being followed! Now, informing the others of my discovery, we continued on our trek.

A short climb later brought us to a decision point in our hike. A bubbling spring creek would either have to be waded or crossed on slippery boards, and our decision was to do neither. The area was filled with tall, thick bushes. Near one, crouched down to hide, there were the two, now clearly seen as young; a girl and boy. My instincts told me a game was being played, so why not join in the fun.

As the others visited and rested, I went around the bushes, coming up behind our peeping youngsters. They probably sensed my presence, but didn’t move or talk. Quietly backing away, I joined our group and we headed down the trail.
Our slow meander down the trail was suddenly interrupted by the strangest human sounds.

“Yedda yea woha hoo hoo!” The youngsters kept in back of us and off the trail, but their inarticulate babble filled the crisp clear air. They ran, leapt in graceful ballet-like moves; twisting, jumping and waving branches in the air. “Scroom, gooa goda, yada yada!”…such delightful exchanges as they romped and skipped along the trail’s edge, just far enough back to keep us curious.

Coming upon a sharp dip in the trail, Mark and I crouched down and let Theresa and Maria proceed forward. We held our laughter as our shadow friends got nearer.
“Wambo yedda gitta gotta!” joyfully over the trail and …YIKES! They hastily withdrew after almost running into us. That was close! I silently chuckled at having pulled off the “got cha.”
Our mysterious adventurers were quickly away on horseback, galloping, turning and raising branches with colored bandanas tied to the top as flags. Red flag, yellow flag, “Yedda hoo, wada whoo!”
After having pulled off the “capture,” I now yelled back, “Yea hoo, whoo whew. Gitta gota goo!”

As we reached the parking lot and prepared to leave, we again encountered our mounted youth, near the buck and pole fence separating fantasy from the more conventional life. We decided to give our friends a farewell; now on the count of three, all yell out the windows…”three, two, one…Yadda hoo hoo. Wada Wanny!”

They displayed a last show of power; we, the conquered, were retreating in haste to the safety of the valley below. They raised and pumped their flags high in the air as we drove off. Victory, oh sweet victory!         j\

Jerry Schuster lives in Wolf Point, MT with his wife Teresa, where he has practiced law for Forty years. Jerry will be retiring and moving to Bozeman in 2013.