As if she were able to read my thoughts, Blue Water Woman said, “Give yourself time, Robert Parker. You are fairly young yet. When that special woman comes along, you will know.”
I changed the subject. “Tell me, fair lady. Can you write?”
“Yes, my husband taught me. I do not do it as well as Winona, but it is legible. Why do you ask?”
“It would benefit me immensely if you could make a list of all the animals you know which do not have a white name and where to find them.”
“There is a purpose to this?”
“Odds are, if they do not have a white name, they have not been discovered. Those are exactly the animals I came west to find. A list would save me a lot of time and effort.”
“It will take a while, but for you I will do it.”
Again my ears burned. “You can start now if you want.” I brought her a pad and bid her sit on a log. My head was swimming with all the new species I might find. I would be famous. My discoveries would be on the front page of every newspaper. I would be hailed as the leading naturalist of my day and might secure a prestigious position at a university. I did not become a naturalist for fame and fortune, but neither was I averse to recognition and a comfortable income.
I walked to the stream and knelt. Cupping my hands in the cold water, I splashed my face and neck. It brought me out of myself, out of my fancies and to the here and now.
“Do you want every animal I can think of?” Blue Water Woman asked. “Snakes and bugs as well?”
“Everything without a white name, yes,” I reiterated. “No matter what kind, no matter how big or how small.”
“It will be a long list.”
“Good!” The more new species I discovered, the better. I went to the packhorse and got out my journal, figuring I might as well catch up on my entries. I became so absorbed in my observations and descriptions that when a shadow fell across me, I gave a start.
It was Blue Water Woman. “I am finished.” She held out the paper to me. “If I have not written enough I can add more.”
She had done a marvelous job. First, she had listed birds, then mammals, then reptiles, then insects. She even put down a short list of fish. To give but one example, her first bird was “A small brown hawk that hunts above the timberline. It has a yellow beak and big eyes” She had numbered them. I ran my finger down the list to the last and exclaimed, “Thirty-nine? That many?”
“It could be that whites know of some of them, but I do not know the white name because when my husband and I talked about them, we talked in my own tongue.”
“McNair speaks Flathead?” I stupidly asked.
“Fluently. With a memory as good as his, he learns new tongues easily. Not as easily as Winona, but close.”
“You keep bringing her up,” I said.
“She is my best friend. I am in awe of how quickly she learns things. What would take me six months, she learns in a week.”
“You exaggerate, surely.” I scanned her list again, and something gave me pause. “Wait a minute. What is this? You wrote here, ‘A giant bird that carries off buffalo and sometimes people.’“
“Yes. My people call them thunderbirds. It has been many winters since they were last seen, but in my grandfather’s time my people lived in great fear of them.”
“So you have never seen one yourself? This is more of a legend?”
“You said everything, big or small,” Blue Water Woman reminded me. “I did not write about the giants or the little men, though, since they are people like you and me.”
“The what?”
“Long ago, when my people, the Salish, first came to the country where they now live, they fought with giants who lived in caves and wore bearskins. From time to time one would sneak into a Salish village at night and steal a woman.”
“Legends,” I stressed.
Blue Water Woman did not seem to hear me. “The little people had dark skins. They lived in the thickest woods where it was hard for men to travel, and they would signal one another by beating on a tree with a stick. The bow was the weapon they liked best. They made pictures on rocks, but no one could read what the pictures said.”
“Honestly, now,” I interrupted. These accounts bordered on fairy tales. “And where are the giants and the dwarfs now?”
“The giants were killed off long ago. They were a terror and had to be stopped. The dwarfs did not hurt anyone, so the Salish left them alone. My grandfather saw one when he was a boy.”
I was about to say how preposterous all of this was when a jay took wing squawking on the other side of the stream, and a few moments later, a handful of sparrows, twittering noisily, did the same.
Blue Water Woman raised her rifle. “On your feet, Robert Parker. We are not alone.”
Thirteen
Anything could have spooked the birds, and I said so.
“We must hide, quickly,” Blue Water Woman insisted. She did not wait for me to reply but turned and hastened to the horses.
I was slow to rise. In my estimation her alarm was uncalled for. Yet another example of the senseless dread displayed by the McNairs and the Kings. They acted as if everything and everyone were out to get them. For grown adults to behave so childishly was silly.
“Hurry,” Blue Water Woman urged.
“We have seen no sign of anyone else all day,” I mentioned. “What makes you think we are in danger?”
“Please, Robert Parker.”
“That is another thing,” I said. “Why do you call me by my full name? Robert will do. Or even Bob, if you like.”
“I like how your name sounds.” Blue Water Woman turned, leading her horse, but she only took a couple of steps. Then she abruptly stopped and started to raise her rifle to her shoulder.
“I wouldn’t, were I you, squaw. Not unless you want me to shoot you smack between the eyes.”
It was Jess Hook. He had come up out of the woods, his rifle trained on her. I suppose I should not have been surprised, but I was. I started to jerk my own rifle when a gruff voice behind me froze me in place.
Jordy Hook had stepped from the trees across the stream. He, too, had his rifle to his shoulder, only his was aimed at me. “Set that long gun down, painter man, or I’ll drop you where you stand.”
“What’s the meaning of this?” I demanded while complying.
Cutter appeared, leading their horses. “Listen to him, will you?” he said to Jordy. “Dumb as a stump. The airs he puts on, you’d think he had a brain between his ears.”
“Now see here,” I said angrily.
Jordy and Cutter forded the stream. Their wet moccasins squished as they came up the bank. Their expressions were as cold as ice.
It did not bode well. But I refused to show fear. Instead, I faced Jess Hook and said, “No one has answered me. What is this about? What do you hope to prove?”
“Prove?” Jess said, and snorted. “Mister, you beat all. I will make everything clear, but first you and your friend will shuck your pistols and knives. Nice and slow if you know what’s good for you.”
I obeyed promptly. Blue Water Woman did so with reluctance, earning a bark of impatience from Jordy.
Only after she had laid down her weapons did Jess Hook lower his rifle to his waist, although he continued to point it at her. “Well now. That’s better. Suppose you get a fire going, Indian. Not a big one, mind, and don’t use green wood to make a lot of smoke for your friends in the valley to see. I am wise to tricks like that.”
Without saying a word, Blue Water Woman moved toward the trees. The instant she did, Cutter was at her side, his hand on one of his knives. He leered at her, but she ignored him.
“Don’t you touch her,” Jess Hook said.
Cutter glanced sharply at him. “Who are you to say yes or no? We’re partners, ain’t we?”
“We need her in one piece, or have you forgotten why we’ve gone to all this trouble?” was Jess Hook’s rejoinder.
Frowning, Cutter swore, then said, “I s
till think we should have grabbed the girl and not these two. Nate King is more likely to give in if it’s the fruit of his loins.”
“She hasn’t given us the chance, has she? Or would you rather wait around a month or two in the hope she waltzes into our arms?”
“I was only saying,” Cutter said. Then the forest closed around him and Blue Water Woman.
I looked at Jordy Hook, who snickered.
“You’ve stepped in it now, painter man. You should’ve stayed back East where the sheep don’t have to worry about wolves.”
Jess Hook stepped to the log Blue Water Woman had been sitting on and beckoned to me. “Get over here and plant yourself, mister. You and me need to have words.”
I did not like having rifles pointed at me, nor the implied threats of violence. “You can’t treat us like this,” I protested. “It isn’t right.”
“What the hell does that have to do with anything?” Jess snapped as I sat on the log.
“Have you no scruples?” I asked.
Jess glanced at Jordy and both brothers laughed. Then Jess placed a foot on the end of the log and leaned an elbow on his leg.
“Mister, I’ll let you in on a secret. All that stuff about right and wrong, scruples as you call them, is a bunch of hogwash. It is how those who have the money and make the laws keep the rest of us in line. But you know what?” Jess leaned toward me. “It’s just words. They don’t mean anything. There is no right or wrong. There are no scruples. We can do as we want, and the rest of the world be damned.”
“There are higher laws than man’s,” I said stiffly.
“Meaning the Bible?” Again the brothers swapped amused glances. “When I was little I believed in it. My folks sent me to Sunday school, and my pa read from it every evening when we set down to supper. I heard how God punishes those who do evil and rewards those who do right. But you know what?”
I rose to the bait. “What?”
“It just ain’t so. The first time I killed I man, I looked up at the sky expecting a thunderbolt to come down out of the blue and fry me to a cinder. But nothing happened. The same with the second time and the third. I’ve killed and robbed a heap of people, and the Almighty has never lifted a finger to stop me.”
“There is no God,” Jordy Hook declared. “No Devil, neither. No Heaven and no Hell.”
“Fairy tales,” Jess said. “We’re born and we live a spell and we die. That’s it.”
Jordy nodded. “So we might as well help ourselves to whatever strikes our fancy along the way.”
Deeply troubled, I responded with, “You’re wrong, both of you. There is more to life than nothingness. Laws are not passed merely to control people, but so that everyone is treated fairly and with justice. As for the Bible, even if you deny it is divinely inspired, there is no denying the wisdom it contains.”
“And the Almighty?” Jess mocked me. “I suppose you think there is a God up there somewhere who gives a hoot about us?”
“I am a man of science, not religion,” I replied. “I do not claim to have all the answers. But when I see the beauty of a rose, or a butterfly’s wing, and think of life in all its many forms and guises and how everything relates one to the other, yes, I believe there is something out there that is greater than us, and above us and in us and in all things. Call it God. Call it whatever you like. But it is there.”
“It can’t be much of anything if it lets us kill and get away with it,” Jess Hook said.
“I told you I don’t have all the answers,” I said. “But this I do know: whether by God’s hand or man’s, you will be served your comeuppance for your foul deeds.”
The Hook brothers erupted into near hysterics. Jordy bent over and slapped his leg. I failed to appreciate the comedy and told them so.
“You are a caution, painter man,” Jordy said between guffaws. “We’ve met a lot of folks like you. Simpletons who reckon the world is like that rose you mentioned, when it’s really a patch of thorns.”
Jess Hook nodded. “Even if you’re right, God’s laws don’t matter. Man’s laws don’t matter. The only law that does is this.” He patted his rifle. “Take what we want, when we want.”
When you hear someone talk like that, you think they can’t be serious, that no one could be so evil, so despicable. But they were sincere, this pair of bloodthirsty brothers.
“What is it you want?” I asked as Blue Water Woman came out of the trees carrying firewood.
“I would like to know the same thing,” she said.
Cutter, who was a few feet behind her, growled, “Shut up and start the fire. We will say when you can talk.”
“Now, now,” Jess Hook said. “She has a right to know. After all, whether she lives or dies depends on how it works out.”
“What are you talking about?” I yearned to jump up and smash him in the face with my fist, but he and his brother wisely stood far enough back that I could not reach them before I was shot.
“We want their gold,” Jess said.
Blue Water Woman was hunkering to deposit the firewood. “That again,” she said. “You have gone to a lot of trouble for nothing. There is no gold and never was.”
Cutter drew his knife partway and took a menacing step toward her. “Don’t lie to us, squaw. We heard about the gold nugget your husband flashed at Bent’s Fort.”
“And where there’s one nugget there are more,” Jess Hook said. He practically glowed with greed. “We want to know where.”
“I speak with a straight tongue when I say there never was more than the one nugget my husband had.”
“You are lying to save your skin,” Jordy Hook said. “We’ve heard all the stories about the strike you and the Kings made.”
“If we had gold, don’t you think we would have used more of it than one nugget?” Blue Water Woman responded.
Without any hint of what he was about to do, Jordy shoved her so hard she fell onto her hands and knees.
I started to rise to go to her when Jess Hook took a quick step and rammed the barrel of his rifle into my gut. The pain was terrible. I doubled over, my teeth grit, and could not help but groan.
“Stay right where you are, fancy pants.”
I managed to croak, “You will pay for this!” Then I sucked air into my lungs, struggling to compose myself.
“You better keep one thing in mind, mister. Because make no mistake. My brother or me or Cutter will kill you and this squaw dead as dead can be if we have to, and not feel a twinge of regret after the deed is done.”
“Regret, hell,” Cutter said. “Me, I like to kill, and have ever since I was twelve and took a pitchfork to my pa. He had a habit of slapping me around when I gave him sass.”
Blue Water Woman had calmly picked herself up and resumed kindling a fire. She did not curse Cutter or even glare at him.
I marveled at her self-control. My own was not nearly as superb. When I could sit up straight, I asked, “How do you propose to get your hands on this gold that doesn’t exist?”
“That is where you and this squaw come in. I will tell you all about it once we have a fire going and coffee on.”
I could think of nothing else to say beyond a few choice comments about their character and intelligence, but insults were bound to earn me more pain so I sat in a funk until flames crackled and the aroma of brewing coffee filled the air.
I sat close to Blue Water Woman, inwardly resolved to leap to her aid if they tried to hurt her again. Jess Hook sat across from us. His brother and Cutter stood well back, Cutter near the horses, so they could thwart any escape attempt.
“Now then,” Jess said with that mocking smile of his, “suppose we get down to business. We want the gold, but we’re willing to be reasonable.”
“You call this reasonable?” I said sarcastically.
“So long as you and the squaw get to go on breathing, I would say so, yes.”
“Do not call me that,” Blue Water Woman said softly
Jess glanced at her. “What di
d you say?”
“Do not call me squaw. I have a name.”
“So what if you do? To us you are nothing but a stinking redskin. We will call you whatever we damn well please, and you’ll keep your mouth shut.” Jess waited for her to reply. She didn’t. He grinned and said, “Now then, where were we?” He turned to me. “It’s simple, really. The squaw stays with us while you ride down and tell her husband and the Kings to hand over the gold or they will never set eyes on her again.”
I had suspected something like this. “You are despicable.”
“Keep giving me guff, fancy pants,” Jess said, “and you’ll have to do your riding with a broken finger or two. Do you want that?”
I did not.
“Good. Then in a bit you will head out. Cutter will follow you to make sure you go straight to the lake. Try anything, and we kill the squaw. If her husband or the Kings try anything, we kill the squaw. Make it plain to them. If there’s so much as a whiff of trouble, we kill the squaw.”
“I daresay if you harm her, Shakespeare McNair and Nate King will not rest until they have hunted you down and exacted their vengeance.”
“They don’t scare us none,” Jess said. “McNair is tough, but he’s as old as Methuselah. And so what if Nate King has killed a lot of grizzlies? Bears don’t shoot back.”
His brother chuckled.
“Tell them they are to load the gold onto packhorses, and then you are to bring it up to us.”
“Why me?” I asked.
“Because you’re harmless.”
I have been insulted before, but that one caused me to burn with resentment. I was on the verge of saying something that would undoubtedly anger him when Blue Water Woman cleared her throat.
“May I speak?”
“Sure, squaw,” Jess Hook said. “What is on your mind?”
“Why involve my husband and the Kings when there is no need?”
Wilderness Double Edition 28 Page 10
