Authors: Nancy Radke
The morning of the fourth day we went outside and the sun was
shining and the birds were singing and the sky was solid blue from horizon to
horizon. Little patches of snow clung to the undersides of rocks, other than
that, it was all gone.
We packed up and left. The horses were once more eager to go.
Luke boosted me aboard, since I still didn’t want to put much strain on my leg.
I left it out of the stirrup, which felt more comfortable, as a stirrup puts
both an upward and a sideways pressure on your leg. A good rider, I used my
balance and my knees more than my legs, anyway.
The air was warm and dry, but the soil was still wet, and when
we would reach muddy areas, the horses would slip and have to scramble to keep
their footing. Pride was more sure-footed than Rosie, and when we got to a
particularly bad stretch, Luke stopped, got off Pride and came back to me.
“I’ll carry you over this. I don’t trust Rosie.”
Looking past Pride, I could see why he’d stopped. A huge
mudslide had taken out the trail, cutting a swath about a hundred yards wide.
We had crossed a few tiny slides and they tended to give under the horses’ feet
or squirt out from under them, so that it was a mad scramble to reach solid
ground again.
“I don’t trust you,” I said. “What makes you think you can keep
from sliding to the bottom any better than Rosie? There’s still water moving
through that soil.”
“I’ll put you on Pride, then,” he said. “Rosie scares me. I’m
afraid she’ll fall on you.”
“She scares me, too. Let’s tie up her reins so she won’t trip on
them, and start her across. I’ll ride Pride. You can either follow or go first.
I’m afraid if you try to lead Rosie, she’ll jump on you, trying to fight the
mud.”
He helped me off Rosie and carried me the short distance to
where he could put me on Pride. My leg was healing, but I really didn’t want to
try to walk on it before it felt stronger.
“It’s going to be like crossing a mud-filled stream,” Luke said.
“We might get swept down the mountain a piece.”
He walked over to the slide area and took a step into it. His
foot went in up to his ankle, and when he pulled it out, it made a sucking
sound. “Now I really don’t like it. It almost pulled my boot off.”
I looked down at the bottom of the slide, the mud piled up in a
heap. It was at least a quarter of a mile down, a long, wide jumble of mud.
“I don’t see any cliff. If it takes us down, it just means we
will have to find our way up again.”
I nudged Pride forward. He put one foot on the slide and pulled
it back. I couldn’t get him to cross.
“Well, that option just got taken off the plan. Shall we try to
ride around this?” I looked down. It was a long way to the bottom, with fallen
trees and rocks and all sorts of obstacles in the way.
“Why don’t we?”
I looked over at Luke and realized he was staring up at the top
of the slide. It was over half again as close, and a lot narrower at the top.
It sprang out a short distance from a rock formation. We would have to go under
the formation, or over it, but the footing would be a lot safer than what we
were looking at.
“I’ll lead Rosie. You follow on Pride,” Luke said. He had to
double back a ways, then work his way upward between the huge pine trees. I
started out behind him, not too close, because sometimes he couldn’t get
through and would have to come back and try another route. Pride handled it
well, his legs longer than Rosie’s.
Halfway up, I looked back to see how far we’d come.
There standing on the trail below us, was the Indian we had come
across. He had made himself a travois, tied the skin and meat on it and was
dragging it back with him. As I watched, he looked up and saw us.
“Luke,” I called out. “There’s our Indian again.”
Luke stopped Rosie. “I think you’re right,” he said. “He must
have a family somewhere. He wouldn’t be pulling that if he didn’t. I bet this
slide wasn’t here when he came through.”
The man found where we had left the trail and began to follow us
upward, fighting the travois. He was not going to leave that meat behind.
“Stay here,” Luke said. “I’m going back to help him.”
He left Rosie and scrambled back down the mountainside until he
reached the Indian. He took one pole and the Indian took the other, and they
pulled it up to where I sat on Pride.
We still had a ways to go.
“Tie it to Rosie’s saddle,” I said. “She’s pulled carts before.
Pride never has.”
They did so, then Luke led Rosie, while the Indian walked beside
the travois and kept it from tipping over or getting stuck. We worked our way
up and over and past the slide area, and then back down to the trail again.
Pride’s longer legs kept him upright, while poor Rosie went down to her knees
several times.
The Indian might have transported his burden alone around the
slide by dividing it into several pieces. He happily took the travois poles
back and started off down the trail with renewed energy.
“I hope he doesn’t lift my scalp some day,” Luke said.
“He’ll probably tell his family about those crazy white people
who were leaving so much meat behind. I hope his family appreciates it.”
“They will if it means the difference between starving or not.”
I offered to switch back to Rosie, but Luke said, “No, I think
I’ll walk awhile. I’m a mountain man, and I like to walk the mountains. We’ll
see if Rosie can keep up with me.”
We started down the trail, following the old Indian. He kept to
it in front of us for several miles, then turned south on a side trail, over a
ridge and out of sight. We continued straight ahead.
Pa had mapped the journey out for me, drawing it on paper while
we were still in Missouri, then drawing in the dirt as we went along, showing
me how far we’d gone. It interested me to see things he’d described. It often
took me a little time to recognize them, usually because they didn’t look right
until I could view them from a certain angle. Then it would feel like I’d found
a signpost along the road, pointing the way and assuring me that I was on the
right path.
We were about in the middle of those mountains when we come
across two riders who came down a trail that joined ours.
“Howdy,” Luke said, looking at their outfit to see what kind of
men they were.
“Howdy. Do you mind if we travel with you and your missus? We’re
headed to Missoula. Going to get some supplies.”
“Not at all.”
“I’m Figgins, and this here is Red,” the taller man said,
pointing to his quiet, redheaded partner. “Where you headed?”
“Oregon,” I said.
“Then you better start headin’ south or you’ll run out of
country. There’s a good road out of Missoula. Goes to Spokane Falls, then south
to Oregon. You’ll want to take it.”
They fell in behind us and we rode along, single file, since
that is about the only way to travel a trail in the mountains. They each had a
gold pan on top of their packs, and the first stream we crossed, they stopped
and checked out the sand.
Prospectors. Luke grabbed his pan and they swished water and
talked color and gold veins and the right type of sand to find gold in.
I took the time to get off Rosie, stretch my legs, and since it
was about noon time, I fixed some tea. I didn’t use tea leaves, but threw in
some blueberry leaves I’d picked while we were staying under the ledge.
“You fellers wanting some hot tea?” I asked, but they shook
their heads, so I drank it all, put out the fire and started to get ready to
ride on.
“Wait, Mahala,” Luke said. “I actually found a flake of gold.”
The other two ran over to see what he had. “Fools’ gold,”
Figgins said. “Iron pyrite. It’s too shiny to be gold.”
“All that glitters is not gold,” said Luke.
“You’re right there.”
“So was Shakespeare.”
“Who’s he?”
“He wrote plays. He’s famous.”
“How come you know him?”
Luke chuckled. “Not personally. My mother was a schoolteacher.
We all had to learn Shakespeare. He had an apt way of putting things. Usually
short and to the point.”
Now I’d heard tell of Shakespeare, even seen one of his plays
back east. I was younger then, and had a hard time following it, but it made
the folks laugh, so I guess it was funny.
The stream had a little grass growing beside it, so I let the
horses eat and rest, while Luke swished the sand around.
“You men realize that every prospector who’s come this way has
checked out that sand, don’t you?” I asked. “That and every other little crick
that crosses this here trail.”
They stopped, looked at me, and got back on their horses.
They were anxious to get to Missoula, get their supplies and go
back to their claim. They told Luke about it. They’d taken enough gold out to
even send some money back east to their families.
“How much?” I asked, that first night around the small campfire.
“Several hundred dollars,” Figgins said.
“For how many year’s work”
“Four. But we’re going to strike the mother lode any day now.
We’ll be rich.”
“How much do your supplies cost?” Luke asked.
“Not much. If you don’t have money, you can get enough if you
sell your horse. That’s a good one.”
Luke looked at Pride. I could see the dollar signs forming in his
head.
“That’s not his horse to sell,” I said. “It’s mine.”
They all looked at me, because I hadn’t said anything up to now,
and Figgins and Red certainly weren’t expecting that.
“Mahala?” Luke said. “Would you stake me—” He stopped
because I was already shaking my head.
“Not with my pa’s horse. And not with mine. You’ll have to get
someone else to stake you. I’m going on to get me a piece of land. I might sell
Rosie to buy a cow or two, depending on price. When I get some calves, I’ll
sell beef to you miners, and make more money in one year than you make in
four.”
I could see Luke was pondering this. We had crossed several
streams and there wasn’t any gold laying around in them like he’d been told.
We got to Missoula. The country store was stocked to the rafters
with mining supplies and just about everything else imaginable. The prices for
supplies were sky high. Especially mining supplies.
By now my leg could take some weight. I planned on buying a
crutch or cane, but took one look at the price and decided I could keep doing
without. At least until we found a non-mining town. The same for a dress.
“Howdy, folks,” the storekeeper said. He was a small round man,
friendly, and I wondered how he reached everything in his store.
“Howdy. You have any flour?” I couldn’t see any.
“No. The miners came in before my supply shipment. They wiped me
out of flour. I’ve more coming, but it will be a few days. You mining or moving
on?”
“I’m moving on,” I said. “Looking for land.”
“The land is out there for the taking,” the storekeeper said.
“Just stay off the Indian land. You’re past most of it now. The Shoshone and
Arapahoe are settled in the Wind River Basin. Most of the settlers are passing
through this dry area. They either go north or west, following the rivers. There
are plenty of lowlands valleys there, but it’s getting took mighty fast. Be
prepared to buy it.”
“We had quite a time, crossing the mountains,” Luke said. “Then,
just outside of town here, we ran across a road. Where does it go?”
“The Mullan Road? It runs between Walla Walla and Fort Benton.”
“A road?” I said. “You mean there’s a
road
that crosses those
mountains behind us?”
“Yes. They built it in 1860. An engineer called John Mullan.
Army lieutenant. He found out where to cross. It goes gentle-like over a low
pass.”
I looked at Luke and shook my head in disbelief. “We almost died
crossing them. My pa didn’t know about the road. It was built after his time.
He was coming west on the same route he took when he left.”
“You’re lucky to have made it, then.”
“Is there a hotel here?”
“Sort of.”
“Prices like yours?”
“Higher.”
I decided not to stay in town. It would just cost me money and I
wanted to save every bit for buying land.
“I’m moving down that road then. Are you coming?” I asked Luke.
“I’m still looking for someone to stake me,” he said.
“You’ll have a long wait, then,” the storekeeper said. “The
people who stake prospectors look for someone who knows what they’re doing. You
don’t. Go earn some money and then go hunt gold.”
Luke looked at me. “What if I go with you and help you farm. I
know how to farm. Once you make a go of it, I’ll go look for gold.”
“Aren’t you two married?” the storekeeper asked.
“No,” I said. “A bear introduced us.” I turned back to Luke.
“I’ll take you up on that offer.”
“You should get married,” the storekeeper said.
“Why?” I asked. “You heard him. He’s planning to leave as soon
as he has enough to get a stake.”
“The sooner the better,” Luke said. “That gold—”
“Will stay in the ground whether you go look for it now or
later,” the storekeeper finished. “There’s very few pieces sitting on the top
of the ground. You gotta dig. And you can be digging one inch over from
millions of dollars and never find it. You can’t see through the soil.”
He looked Luke up and down. “Take it from me, the money is in
supplying these poor suckers who are trying to get rich. They get just enough
to keep them coming back. And when they do get some, they go into town and blow
it all on the gambling houses and the women.”
He turned to me. “You, miss, will be taken for one of those
women if you don’t get a ring on your finger. A widow is looked upon different
than a single woman. Out here, you want to go into a community as a married
woman. Then if this skunk leaves you, you can look around and find yourself a good
man, with your reputation intact.”
I think he could see I was pondering hard, because he added,
“Once you lose your reputation, you can’t get it back. Now, I’ve got a wedding
ring here that a miner sold to buy grub with.” He fished around under the counter
and brought it out. He handed it to Luke. “If you’ve got anything of value that
the miners might want, I’ll trade.”
Now I had money, but it was for land. If Luke wanted me badly
enough he’d find some way to buy that ring. “He’s got himself a gold pan,” I
suggested.
Luke looked at me and back at the ring. “That’s the cost of the
ring,” I added. “I won’t marry you for anything less.”
Now I knew how much that gold pan meant to him. If he couldn’t
choose me over it, then I didn’t want him, reputation or no.
He turned around and walked out of the store. I looked at the
storekeeper. “You do weddings?”
“Yes. You think he’ll come back?”
“He will if he’s got any smarts at all. You see, he was trying
to farm a rocky hillside in Tennessee. Rocks on top of rocks to hear him tell
it. He got mighty discouraged.”
“And if he doesn’t come back?”
“I grew up in a store. I know how to work. I’d find a place
here, work for you until the wagon trains come through and leave with them. I
can see you need help.”
He laughed. “Does he know how feisty you are?”
“Oh, yes. I’ve already let him know a time or two. He fought off
a bear, so he’s no slouch, either.”
“He’s also not dumb,” the storekeeper said. I looked out the
window, where he was looking, and saw Luke coming at a run, with his gold pan
in his hand.
“Now that is one smart gent,” he added, as Luke charged through
the door.
Luke stopped, laughed, and waved the pan above his head. “This
is probably the best bargain I ever made,” he said. He handed the pan to the
storekeeper.
“Every miner has one of those. You got anything else?”
Luke looked crestfallen. “My gun.”
“You’ll need that.”
“A knife? I took two off of some Indians.”
“Let me see them.”
Luke ran back outside and the storekeeper winked at me. “Let’s
see how eager he really is.”
Luke brought in the knives. They were good knives, probably
taken off some unlucky miners.
The storekeeper nodded, took the two knives and the gold pan,
and handed Luke the ring.
Luke took it in one hand and grabbed my hand with the other.
“Now to find us a preacher.”
“That’s me,” the storekeeper said.
“You?”
“I’m also the mayor. And the undertaker. We got to have us a
witness.” He strode over to the door, stuck his head out, and stopped the first
man riding by. “Hi. Slim. Get down and come in here a minute.”
A soldier came in, looking puzzled, then smiled when he saw us.
“You’re starting early, Ron.”
I looked at the ring in Luke’s hand. “Is that real?” I asked. “I
don’t want it turning green on my finger.”
“Oh, yes. Silver. I order a few each year from San Francisco.
We’ve got silver mines in the mountains here, but the best craftsmen are in
Frisco. Check the size. I always get them in several sizes.”
“I thought you got it from a miner.”
He smiled. “That one wouldn't fit you.”
I took it and tried it on. It was just right.
“I get practice,” he said. He motioned the soldier to join us,
and started the ceremony. Halfway through a customer entered, saw what was
taking place and went over and stood by the soldier. So we had two witnesses.
“I do,” I said, and listened to Luke make the same vow. It
wasn’t exactly what I had planned on for my wedding day, but I figured if I
could keep Luke around long enough to see the plants growing, I wouldn’t lose
him. He was a good man, just a trifle misguided by the look of gold.
“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
It was the first time we had kissed, but it wasn’t anything a
body had to learn. We did a good and proper one, and the men all clapped Luke
on the back and congratulated us.
“Come sign the paper,” Ron said, and we all walked over to the
counter where he had set out a marriage certificate. His name was already
there, as the official. We signed. Our witnesses signed. The soldier left, and
the customer went to the shelves to pick out what he wanted.
“What do I owe you?” Luke asked the storekeeper.
“For this gal? A million dollars. But since you don’t have it,
I’ll gladly do it, free. You take care of her, you hear?”
“Oh, yes. No problem there. I’ll have you know I’m the luckiest
man in the west.”
“What makes you say that?” I asked.
“I got you, didn’t I?” he said, lifting my finger and kissing
the ring there.
“For better or worse,” I said.