Percy Redfeather was born in 1860 as Percival Bridger. He was the third child of his parents, Mountain Man Jim Bridger and Mary Washakie Bridger – Shoshone Chief Washakie’s daughter..

By the time Percy was 15, his mother had passed away and his father, (often called “Old Gabe”) had lost his eyesight and was under the care of Percy’s older sister Virginia. Percy was left in the care of his older brother Scott.

When Percy was a boy, he learned to ride horses in the “native style” and showed good promise as a hunter and tracker. His abilities however were heavily over shadowed by his brother Scott. Scott was considered the most skilled hunter in the tribe… (as the elders sometimes commented, the most skilled Shoshone hunter ever born) But Percy was by far the better Marksman.

An ancient legend among Percy’s family says that their great-great-great grandmother was an extraordinarily beautiful woman with light blue skin, hair and eyes. The woman came to live with their tribe and their great-great-great grandfather fell in love with her. After having a son together and spending a decade with the tribe, one day she announced to her husband that she must leave and return to her own world.

The next day, she was seen early in the morning, floating on her own power up and away from the camp, into the air out of sight. She was never seen again. Her distraught husband never got over it and never remarried. The man’s son had normal “human” eyes but they were bright blue like no one else in the tribe,

During the fall season after Percy turned 16, his older brother Scott took him along for a week of hunting as a present for his birthday. They hunted and fished for several days. On the eve of a full moon, Percy and Scott were caught out late into the evening tracking a wounded Elk. Percy had made a less than perfect shot and the animal was still roaming and leaving a steady blood trail.

As the moon climbed into the night sky, Percy and Scott commented on its odd appearance. It was know as a Blood Moon and they thought it a bad omen. The sky also seemed a different shade of not-quite black and the stars now had a golden twinkle instead of white. Percy and Scott continued tracking, but not long after this they heard the horns for the first time. Faint and far away, the wind sounded like horns blowing and wolves howling in the trees. Given the blood moon, the elk would wait another day, they turned and headed back for camp and the safety of a campfire against the darkness. No one wanted to meet the spirits of the woods that night.

The way back to camp became strange and disorienting… horns and howls continued behind them and the forest paths they both knew so well seemed to be no longer there. The sense of being hunted came over both of them. They were the prey now. The horses they rode shook with terror and they were forced to dismount and try to lead them through the trees. The next round of howls sounded much closer and the horses could take it no longer. They reared, pulled at their leads and bolted off into the darkness.

Percy and Scott continued on foot but knew they would be run down at any moment. There was no time for a fire and their bows would be no match for a pack of wolves in the night. They had to find a defensible position. Ahead the sound of rushing water told them that they were trapped against this shore of the mountain river. The howling subsided but low growls could be heard and black black shapes flitted in the shadows only 20 yards away… Looking up, they spotted their last chance for refuge, a thick dead tree that was still climbable.

Scott urged Percy up the tree and climbed up behind him. “Higher Percy!” Scott urged and they both climbed as high they could. Below, great black shapes emerged from the woods and circled the base of the tree. In the moonlight, the circling pack seemed all bottomless shadows and glowing red eyes. Percy and Scott marveled at the size of the creatures and the oddity of their head shapes… They looked more like massive dogs than wolves. They were nearly the size of horses and certainly far larger than any wolf or dog Percy had ever heard of.

Horns still brayed, coming closer on the trail. The wolf/dogs began howling again in response and the pack leader, larger than any of the others suddenly took at run at the tree base and rammed it with his shoulder. The trunk swayed and cracked with the impact. Percy feared they would topple altogether and be cast into the rushing current below.

It was the end, and so Scott smiled. Scott had always been fearless. Percy early worshiped his big brother dues to Scott’s bravery and prowess. Percy was so proud to be his brother. Percy often wondered what Scott might have done differently that night if he had not had Percy to protect. For many decades after, Percy would dream of that night under the blood moon and the worst part was always when Scott looked up and smiled at him before leaping.

All sound stopped. Percy could hear nothing except his brother’s voice calling up to him, “I love you brother, be well.” Then with a knife in one hand and a tomahawk in the other, Scott turned, leaping from the tree trunk down into the howling pack and landing astride the back of the pack leader. The whirl of shadow and blood below was immediately impossible to make out. The pack leader shrieked and snarled, clearly injured in the frenzied struggle.

Another blow struck the dead tree as the pack seethed back and forth. Percy felt the trunk finally give way below him. The last thing Percy saw as he fell was a fleeting glimpse of his brother, still astride the pack leader with his knife anchored in the creature’s neck. Scott was holding on, still swinging his tomahawk with the other hand and looking all the world like a bronc rider in a rodeo.

Percy crashed into the water along with the broken tree and was immediately pulled under as he tumbled and crushed against rocks in the relentless current. He guessed that it was the broken tree that tumbled with him and gave him a chance to pull himself up for air. The freezing, drowning, smashing, watery violence felt unending, but somehow he survived one gasp at a time. Whenever he could surface, the braying horns and wolf howls could still be heard but they had passed by and off into the distance as he was swept down river.

When the current finally slowed enough that Percy could do anything, he clung from rock to rock and slowly pulled himself out of the water and on to a stony strand. His first thought was to go back for Scott, but he was so turned around that he had no idea which direction to go. The horns and howls had stopped… The moon was gone and the darkness was impenetrable. Percy tried to do the only thing he could, to make a fire but even that proved fruitless because his tinder kit was long gone, washed away as his “Possibles” bag had been torn from his shoulder by the violent rocks.

With no idea where he might be, Percy huddled frozen on the river bank. “Think, Percy, Think!” he told himself but his mind was numb with exhaustion. The tiredness was becoming overwhelming. He was lucky to have even pulled himself out of the freezing river. All Percy wanted to do now was sleep. He needed to find Scott, but he could no longer even walk. Collapsing onto his scratched hands and bloody knees, Percy found and crawled into a massive bank of fall leaves and dropped into unconsciousness.

A repeated wicker and nudge finally brought Percy back to the world. Something kept poking his shoulder. The slightest movement reminded him that he was little more than a mass of aches and pains. In spite of it, Percy rolled over and crawled out of the leafy bank he had been in for an unknown amount of time. His horse had retuned and somehow found him. Scott’s horse was nowhere to be seen. SCOTT!!! the impossible events of the night before (or perhaps the night before that?) came tumbling back into his mind.

Percy climbed into the saddle and began picking his way back upstream. He knew one thing. Scott must be somewhere up river. Percy’s horse had clearly come this way, but there were no other tracks? The tree… All he had to do was find the broken tree! That was on the river bank! Just keep moving along the river bank, find the broken tree and hope to god that somehow Scott survived and climbed back up into safety or perhaps ended up in the river as well.

Percy continued tracking, but a cold voice in his mind kept telling him that this time hope was a poor crutch. He pushed away the fear that he would almost certainly find Scott dead and eaten by wolves or perhaps drowned in the river. Just find the tree… Find the broken tree.

Hours passed and still no sign. The occasional hoof print of his own horse, a deer or fox trail, but nothing else. No canine tracks and no broken tree. Percy began to wonder how far he could have possibly been swept down stream? Finally a small waterfall came into view. It was only 6 foot drop but Percy was virtually certain he had not encountered anything like that while in the dark current. Had he somehow missed the dead broken tree?? Not a track… not a broken tree… But things did look very different in the forest at night. Percy reluctantly turned back and retraced his steps down river still searching for the broken tree he had somehow missed.

Coming back to the stony strand where he had escaped the river, Percy simply could not understand. The damned tree was not there. Were there perhaps two channels to the river? Was he in the wrong place? None of it made sense! He may not be as good a tracker as Scott but this was impossible. With a few hours of light left, Percy once again searched up river – even beyond the waterfall.

An hour before sunset, Percy came upon then previous campsite he and Scott had used. Their pelts and small game skins were still there untouched. The fire was cold. Percy practically chocked at the sight. Necessity demanded that he prepare the fire and tend to his horse but as he went about these tasks, his thoughts swirled in unbelief. Scott was gone.

Percy returned to his family camp with the terrible news. Some of the camp[ warriors hastily organized and went back out with Percy for a second search. Nothing could be found. Scott and his horse were never seen again.

Soon a rumour began to circulate in camp that perhaps Percy was jealous of his brother and killed him so he would be able to take over from his father.  The story of the horns led some to believe that the brothers were cursed.

Superstition grew and Percy felt the dark looks behind his back. After several confrontations with the other young men in his tribe, Percy felt it was better to go it alone in the world and leave the rest of his family in peace.

During the cattle wars of Johnson county, Percy started by scouting for the army.  He realized there was no justice or fairness in the army as they would consistently side with the cattlemen and turn a blind eye to the suffering of the settlers.  Then one day he was helping a settler family with finding a clutch of stray sheep when they were beset by ranchers who claimed they were rustlers and shot the farmer dead and while he was defending the wife and child he shot one of the cattlemen enforcers.

The cattlemen labelled him a rustler and murderer.   on the run he found out about hole in the wall and took to hiding his face as much as he could and took random jobs as an enforcer and tracker.  It was not honest work but is was all he could find.

When the army came though town they conscripted many men including him and led them into a battle but after suffering a horrid defeat where most of the soldiers were killed he hid under some dead bodies and then crawled away from battle with a healthy distain for the institutions of white men.

Redfeather was getting a reputation for stealth and discretion.  He found some equally tough desperados  and was involved in a train robbery.  They only lost one man in the highly successful robbery and a wanted poster was created  for the ones they called the wild bunch.  when two of them were captured and hung Redfeather decided to strike  out on his own.  Going back to Hole in the wall he was looking for work.

Percy became a Bounty Hunter in the 1890s and met Thaddeus when Thaddeus patched him up in Wilcox Wyoming in 1896 (?) after he was hurt running down a bounty. Thereafter, Thaddeus and Raven joined Percy on some Bounties for the extra cash.

.