Dorothy Garlock - [Annie Lash 03] (30 page)

“Well, guess we know what the big noise was.” MacMillan stuck his shovel in the pile of dirt beside the grave.

“Vega’s boat blew up.”

“Reckon Kruger did it?”

“It’s sure we won’t find out from him,
m’sieur.
”

“Wonder where he stashed the canoe.”

“Light will find it. He took Caleb and Maggie with him.”

“Don’t reckon he’ll let her out of his sight fer a spell. She’s got more guts than some men I knowed. She could’a run off, but she stayed an’ fought the bugger. Kept him off my girl.”

“She’s a different kind a woman,
m’sieur.
I’ve never seen two people that were more suited to one another than she and Light.
Mon Dieu,
this bastard’s heavy.”

Not too gently, Paul and Mac lifted the body and placed Kruger in his final resting place. MacMillan looked down. Kruger’s dead eyes stared up at him. He was a man far from home, being placed in a lonely grave with no one to grieve for him. But there was no pity in MacMillan’s heart.

“Open wide ye gates a hell, yore son is comin’ home.”

“Very poetic.” The homesteader’s words were a surprise to Paul.

MacMillan grinned. “Read that some’rs.”

The grave was filled quickly. When they were finished, Paul pulled his pipe and tobacco from his pocket, packed the bowl and offered the sack to MacMillan.

“Eli thinks Kruger may have filled his canoe from the boat before he sunk it.”

“It’s what I’d a done.”

“What do ya think of my friend Eli,
m’sieur?
”

“Well . . . he’s a moody feller. Can’t say as I got anythin’ against him. But I’m thinkin’ he’s got somethin’ against Lightbody. Two of ’em don’t talk much.”

“It’s nothing that won’t be worked out . . . in time.”

“Is it the woman?”

“He’s worried about Light takin’ her off into the wilderness all by himself.”

“If anybody can take care a her, he can. I’d hate to be the one to try and keep her from goin’ with him. ’Sides, a man ain’t got no business gettin’ ’tween a man an’ his woman.”

“Eli knows that. I’ve known him since he was a lonely skinny lad working on the docks for a pence to give his ma. Grew up to be a good man. Honest and hard-working. I’d trust him with my life—and have many times.”

MacMillan took his pipe from his mouth. “What’er ya singin’ his praises for, Paul?”

“Am I doing that?” Paul chuckled, then answered his own question. “Guess I am. Eli’s like a son . . . well, more like a brother. I’m not old enough to have sired him.”

“It’s plain ya want me t’ think well of ’im.”

“I do. ’Cause I’m thinking he’s kind of sweet on your girl.” Paul looked away and drew on his pipe.

“Aee? He’s wastin’ his time. She don’t like ’im.”

“Women act like that sometime,” Paul said, as if he’d had vast experience with women.

“Like they don’t like ’em when they do?”

“I got five sisters,” Paul lied. “A woman is afraid a man won’t return her affection so at times she acts as if she can’t stand the sight of him.”

“Hmm.” MacMillan puffed on his pipe. “When any one of my girls takes a man, he’ll be one she chooses.”

“Be sure it’s a good man,
m’sieur.
They’re fine girls.”

*  *  *

Paul and MacMillan went downriver to find out what they could about the big
boom
gun, as Many Spots described it. They had no trouble finding the site. The smell of rotting flesh would have led them to it even if they had not seen the circling scavengers and the iron barrel amid the charred rubble. Paul wondered why Many Spots had not mentioned the carnage.

They beached their canoe and walked along the sandbar strewn with charred debris. A small section of trees and brush along the riverbank had also burned. The pieces of bodies thrown out of reach of the fire were causing the stench and attracting the scavengers that had been picking and gnawing on the body parts.

“Mother a Christ!” MacMillan muttered when they passed part of a head with a few blond hairs attached to it.

Fish or crabs had nibbled on part of a torso that lay half in, half out of the water. A gold watch chain was hooked in the vest buttonhole. Paul turned away.

“We . . . should bury them,
m’sieur.
”

“It would be the decent thin’ t’ do. Thin’ is, I ain’t sure I’m that decent.”

“At least . . . the women—”

“—If we find somethin’ to dig with.”

*  *  *

In the middle of the afternoon, Light, Maggie and Caleb returned with Kruger’s canoe. Caleb had suggested that the German might have gone upriver where the bank was high and several rock formations hung over the water. When they came to a place where the reeds were bent down, Light turned in. The canoe had been well hidden.

Caleb paddled the light birch-bark canoe back to the homestead. Heavily laden, it sat low in the water, and Light didn’t think it would have lasted a day in rough weather. The German had taken a bale of tobacco, a keg of whiskey and tools to build a boat.

Eli was pleased to have the tools back. He was having a difficult time finding the ones Kruger had thrown overboard before he sank the boat.

When MacMillan and Paul returned, the homesteader gave a brief description of what had happened to the Vega boat to his wife and older daughters and a more detailed account to the men. The two crewmen from Vega’s boat listened in chilled silence, knowing that they had escaped being on the boat by the skin of their teeth. They were more than grateful to the man who had taken them in. Already they had decided to stay here and help MacMillan build his village.

It was agreed that later the cannon might be salvaged and brought to the homestead. There was not much likelihood of anyone’s running off with it.

Light took no part in the discussion. Come morning he planned to visit the Osage camp. After that he and Maggie would choose a place to spend the winter. With skins and fur bought from the Osage, he could put up a tight, temporary shelter in a few days.

Eli, on the other hand, was very interested in what Paul and MacMillan had to say about the explosion until he learned that nothing large enough to use to repair his boat had been left. He mulled over what he could do. The quickest way to get boards would be to use the ones from the top of his shed and replace them with a canvas covering. Then what? All that was left of his cargo was a few tools, the gunpowder stowed in MacMillan’s caves, the rifles, a keg of whiskey and a bale of tobacco. It was not enough to pay for a winter’s lodging at the Bluffs and to buy furs to bring back in the spring.

Aee came out of the house and went to the well. Eli stood. Knowing that the conversation had stopped and the men were watching him, he went to her and took the well rope from her hand.

“Let me help you.”

“Why? I ain’t no mamby-pamby town-woman.” Aee kept her face turned from him.

“I know that.”

“I ain’t no
married
woman either.”

Eli pulled the bucket to the top of the well and poured the water into the one at her feet. He didn’t speak until he had lowered the well-bucket and tied the rope to the crossbar. He took her arm and turned her toward him. Even in the near darkness he could see the swelling on the side of her face.

“Why do you keep harping on that?”

“’Cause ya can’t take yore eyes off
her.
That’s why.”

“Don’t you like Maggie? Godamighty! She fought like a wildcat to keep that crazy fool off you.”

“’Course, I like Maggie. It ain’t nothin’ against her.”

“I’m just worried about her going off with Lightbody.”

“Well now, don’t that beat all! Light’s her husband—”

“—He’s not. He’s her . . . companion.”

“What do ya mean by that?”

“They’re not married. Leastways not by a preacher or a magistrate.”

“Is that what’s it about? That don’t mean doodle-dee-squat. Ma and pa didn’t stand up to a preacher. There wasn’t one that’d marry a white man to an Indian. But Pa loved her and knew she was right for him. They married each other in their hearts. I’m thinkin’, Swede, ya ain’t got no notion a’tall about what goes on in a woman’s heart.”

Aee bent to pick up the bucket. Eli’s hand covered hers, and she dropped the pail as if it were hot.

“I’ll take it to the door.”

Not trusting herself to speak, Aee walked ahead of him.

The meeting at the well had not gone unnoticed by Paul. He glanced at MacMillan and saw the man watching Aee and Eli. The seed he had planted was taking root.

*  *  *

The Osage camp of domed huts was in an uproar when Light reached it. He was extremely glad he had not brought Maggie with him. A warrior had caught his wife under a blanket with a young brave and had cut off the end of her nose, the classic Osage punishment for adultery. The brave was to be beaten by the indignant husband until his relatives or friends came forward with presents of sufficient value to persuade the outraged man to relent.

The husband took great care with his choice of weapon. The club of chokeberry was heavy enough to strike cruel blows, but not so heavy that the brave would die too soon.

After the brave was stripped, bound and thrown to the ground, the beating commenced. Knowing the young brave would be beaten to death if no one came forward with compensation, Light realized how far removed he had become from his own people. He tried to close his ears to the sound of the club hitting flesh and the groans of pain. Although he wanted to turn away from the boy’s suffering, he watched. It would not do for Sharp Knife to appear squeamish.

The beating stopped when a gray-haired old man came forward leading a spotted pony. The husband looked at the pony with disdain.

“Grandfather, why you bring this skinny beast?”

“Because it is the boy’s most prized possession. He rather die than part from him. I bring so he can see one last time.”

“He die without the horse?” A crafty look came over the husband’s face.

“It is so.” The old man struck his chest with his fist in a gesture of grief.

“Then he will die.” The husband threw down the bloody club, jerked the rope from the old man’s hands and walked away with the horse.

The wise old grandfather knelt, cut the bonds holding the young brave and helped him to his feet. He was dazed and blood ran from his mouth. A young girl came from the crowd to help lead the youth away. The crowd murmured at the strange end to the punishment.

Chief Dark Cloud stepped forward and raised his hand. There was instant silence.

“It is done, grandfather. Take him away and tell him to control what is under his loincloth.”

He motioned to Light and walked into the circle of domed huts. A crowd followed them, then stopped when they approached a hut of tremendous size.

“Sharp Knife! Sharp Knife! Sharp Knife.” The call came from the collective voices of the people.

Light lifted his hand in a gesture of friendship, then ducked into the hut. The chief sank down on a blanket, motioned for Light to sit, then began to fill his pipe. A powerful man in his early fifties, he wore his gray-streaked hair long and unbound. He was very large with the muscular, flat-bellied body of a much younger man. His eyes were fierce in their pride.

“It is good that you have come, Sharp Knife. Much has been said about how you saved Zee.”

“It was my duty as an Osage.” Light accepted the pipe, drew on it and handed it back.

“That is so.”

“I came to tell you that I will be staying here until spring.”

“You stay with Mac?”

“I stay near him, but in my own lodge.”

“You are welcome here, Sharp Knife.”

“I thank you, Chief Dark Cloud, but my woman would not understand the Osage way.”

“She would approve of adultery?”

“No, but neither would she approve of cutting off the woman’s nose, or beating the brave. It is her white blood that makes it so.”

The chief shrugged. “It is of no importance that Singing Bird does not approve.”

Light was wise enough not to argue. “I will continue my journey to the mountains in the spring. I came, Chief Dark Cloud, to buy hides to cover my lodge. I have the white man’s coin to pay.”

“We have no need for white man’s coin.”

“It is all I have.”

“Because of you we have Zee. You will have the hides to build your lodge.”

“It is good to be an Osage.” Light drew on the pipe again. “When I hunt, I will bring meat to your lodge. Should your enemies come, I will be here to fight them with you.”

The chief nodded.

Light chose a place among a stand of pine for his lodge. It would be shielded from the winter wind and near the creek that flowed into the river.

Many Spots and his warriors arrived two days after Light’s visit to the Osage camp. They brought not only furs and hides but the willow poles needed for the frame. Upright poles were set in the ground and arched to overlap on top where they were tied together—the lower poles being at the ends, the higher near the center. The vertical poles were then interlaced with tiers of horizontal saplings and the dome-like structure took shape. A hole was left in the top to draw smoke, and the frame was covered with mats and skins. Stones were set in the middle for a fire and furs placed on the floor for warmth.