by Daniel Knapp
Two
GOLD
Twenty-five
Sacramento
May 7, 1869
8 a.m.
Esther retied the black-ribboned pages, rose from her parlor-car chair, and placed the journal, open at the next entry, down on the cushion. She stretched, loosening the muscles of her arms, back, and calves, then bent over to unfasten the clasp of her valise. Searching beneath neatly folded undergarments, she pulled out a broad, black sash, her late second husband's double-barreled, over-and-under derringer, and a slender, corked vial of poison. She stared at the objects for a moment, then walked back through the curtain and slipped them under the quilt covering Charles Crocker's brass bed.
Fishing in the valise again, she pulled out her small black purse and searched through a jumble of personal items for the oval gold locket-watch Murietta had given her almost two decades earlier. She opened the cover, exquisitely engraved with an italic E, and marveled at the time. Only an hour had passed since she had sat down and resumed reading the diary entries. She could scarcely remember turning the pages; the memories they evoked of things both recorded and unrecorded, things she had witnessed or had been told, were so complete, so vivid, she felt as if she were living them again.
She lifted a small writing table hanging by hinges under the window nearest her chair, propped it up, and placed the Swiss watch on its wooden surface, thinking of the entries still to be read. There was enough time. She turned, walked forward, and, on the map spread across Charles Crocker's teak desk, traced the route of the Central Pacific from Sacramento through Dutch Flat and farther past Donner Lake. She calculated the time it would take the Pacific Union Express to reach each point, compared the intervals with the time she estimated it would take to read the remaining portions of the journal, then superimposed both sequences on a mental diagram of where she and Mosby would be and what they would be doing as the train carried them up into the Sierras.
She smiled. The three moving elements dovetailed, meshed like the gears of an engine. The smile faded. Unless, she thought, an unforeseen cog interrupts' the movement of the machinery, slows it, stops it, perhaps even destroys it—and me.
She shuddered and took in a deep, calming breath. Turning, she walked back toward her chair; then, on an impulse, she stepped to a window on the opposite side of the car and curled the edge of the shade open. On the wooden sidewalk in front of the hotel, Sutter stood gazing at the train. Several men came out through the hotel doorway. They exchanged greetings with Sutter, but when he made an attempt to engage them in conversation, they all but snubbed him, hurrying off down the street. Esther watched as Sutter reached out with one hand, pathetically reflecting his desire to stop them, bring them back, and hold their attention. He dropped the arm, turned, and, downcast, walked aimlessly in the opposite direction.
Aside from his ceremonial value as a historical curiosity, the short, portly, overgenerous, and ill-fated man was of almost no significance to anyone in Sacramento now. The irony of it struck her as she wondered whether or not he would play a role in the final moments of her plan. That would depend on chance—and on Luther Mosby's predilection for the added excitement that deception and risk added to his sexual activity. But if Sutter were involved, he—once the most important figure in the Sacramento Valley—would again become the most important man in her life. For a second time he would play a pivotal role in helping her conceal from the world yet another secret within a secret, another act he would not witness, would not know about. Only this time, Sutter might help provide her not only with the opportunity for a brand new life, but also with an alibi that might save her life itself.
Compassion for Sutter gave way to deep maternal pride as young Todd darted out of the hotel doorway and raced across the street in the direction of the train. Solana appeared and stopped him with a firm command. He turned and, looking over his shoulder longingly at the locomotive, retraced his steps, took Solana's hand, and skipped along as she walked him toward the river. Canny old woman. She knew the boats and the activity along the riverfront would hold Todd's attention until it was time to strap him into his seat in the cab of the engine.
The boy brought Alex Todd to mind. She wondered what he was doing at this moment. Whether he had finished breakfast and was on his way to the train, or if he had slept a little longer this morning and was just commencing to shave.
She pushed the idle thoughts out of her mind, picked up the journal, and sat down. Sutter… Solana—and Miwokan—Alex Todd… Recollections of that next stretch of time flooded her mind as she began reading again.
Twenty-six
South Fork Cabin
March 1, 1848
Dearest Alex, I know it will seem strange, should you ever read these pages, to see that I have taken to writing them somewhat in the form of letters to you. Letters I will never send, letters that you will only read after I am dead and gone, having previously arranged for this journal to be delivered into your hands. Somehow, the notion of sharing what has happened to me, both bad and good, is a comfort in the midst of my decision to maintain my new identity and let you begin a new life. I must not, CANNOT allow you to become enmeshed in what will eventually unfold in mine. At the same time, I hope it will be possible for you to read these scribblings (you will undoubtedly outlive me!), so that you will not only understand why I have done what I have done, but so that, in a way, you will have been with me during all of it.
I wish you could be here in body as well as spirit, but that is no longer possible. What is possible is that you will one day be privy to EVERYTHING. I will attempt, as I continue to write, to be open about even my innermost thoughts. Normally we all conceal our little secrets, even husbands and wives. It will be small consolation to either of us, but I vow to record in these pages even those things I would not tell another soul, not even you, if we were still together. In that way you will know me, in a sense will have lived with me, more fully and in more important ways than if we had slept in the same bed together for however many years are left me.
For the first time since learning of the discovery of gold at Sutter's sawmill near Coloma in late January, my mind is clear and things have finally come into focus. Three elements made for such prolonged confusion. The find itself—by Sutter's partner, James Marshall—would be enough to make anyone giddy. But concern about what the discovery portends for Miwokan and his people adds to my disorientation. Compounding it all, my mind has been pulled one way and another by conflicting interests. I do care deeply about the welfare of the Indians, and do not relish being a part of anything that might harm them, but I have also come to realize what the gold could mean to me in achieving the thing that matters most to me now: Mosby's undoing. I think I have found a way to reconcile the two.
Although I was prepared for it to happen eventually, I was stunned when Sutter visited me in mid-February and told me of the discovery. Marshall and his men were working on the tailrace of the mill and he literally stooped down and picked up "something shining in the bottom of the ditch." At first none of them believed it was gold, but Marshall took the stone, and several others, to Sutter at the fort, and tests confirmed their value.
Ironically, Sutter suggested that I enlist some of Miwokan's tribesmen and pan for gold here. "It is your property," he said. "If there is gold near Coloma, possibly it is in these parts as well." He asked me to keep it a "secret," which I have! Thought better of telling him I had already found the metal here, at least until I speak to Miwokan tomorrow.
Oh, Alex, my strength and my wits have returned to normal, but I tremble thinking of what the meeting with Miwokan means to me. I MUST convince him, persuade him to help me pan for the gold! In my weakness and disorientation last year, in my preoccupation with the birth of the child, and during the aftermath of the bear attack, I wavered in my resolve about the man who dishonored me and caused the death of our son. I knew I wanted to settle the score with him somehow, someday. But I had neither the strength nor the wits nor even th
e beginnings of wherewithal to do such a thing. I had no plan, and still I do not. But I know that gold will mean money, and money will mean power—the extraordinary power a woman alone in these times would need to make a man like Mosby pay for what he has done. I must have it, Alex. I MUST have it. To trace him, keep track of him, and then, when the time is right, to formulate a plan, trap him, and have my revenge!
Dearest husband, I know what these words must sound like to you. You would not recognize them as the pennings of your young, God-fearing wife. I am that young girl no longer, no matter what my age may be. Often, when I hear that sweet girl's voice within me, quaking at the prospect of eternal damnation for even thinking of harming another human being, I wish that things were different. Oh, how I wish the sickness had not held me at Bent's Fort. That we had journeyed to California together, and that I was in Monterey in your strong arms at this very moment. That John Alexander were alive and well. But he is not. And I can no longer be with you. For I am no longer Elizabeth Purdy Todd.
Forgive me, Alex, for what it is in Esther Cable's mind to do. Forgive me for denying you what small comfort my presence might mean to you. I long to hold you. I do not ever lay my head to rest without feeling the absence of you in my bed. Forgive me for the decision to forego a life together. But things are as they are. And I must do what I must do. I will not rest. I will not "let the sun take me back," as the Indians would say, until I have accomplished what I hope to set in motion tomorrow, no matter how long it takes.
Dear God, please understand. The Lord smiteth the wicked himself. How I wish I could share this with you now, dear husband, and know that you understand and forgive me as well.
Twenty-seven
Thoughts of Mosby and what the gold might mean to her filled Esther's mind as she rode through melting snow toward the Indian village just after sunrise. She carried the baby boy in a makeshift sling on her back. Solana was waiting for her at the central hut when she arrived, but Miwokan and his horse were gone. The Indian woman wore a slight frown.
"He waits for you by the waterfall. He knows what you wish to speak of." Beyond Solana, a half-dozen women sat repairing nets and weirs. Otherwise the village was unusually quiet, and the older men were nowhere to be seen.
"He has heard, then, of what is happening at Coloma?"
Solana laughed. "We have known since the day Marshall picked up the stones in the tailrace of Sutter's mill."
"And Miwokan? How does he feel about it?"
"You will have to hear his words yourself," Solana said, turning and starting into the hut. She stopped just inside and turned back, her expression softening. "Leave the child here while you speak with your sunbrother."
As Solana took the baby, gazed at it, and broke into a loving smile, Esther realized how uncharacteristically cool the Indian woman had been to her. Steeling herself for resistance, she wheeled her horse around and cantered toward the river.
Miwokan sat watching the water rush out from under the softening ice at the lip of the fall as Esther reined the horse up and dismounted. A dozen of the older braves in the village sat around him in a semicircle, smoking several long pipes and whispering to one another. Miwokan glanced at her as she approached, then went back to his musings. She brushed the snow off a low, flat rock and sat down to wait. The elders grew silent as Miwokan gazed at the tumbling white water for a full five minutes. The sound of it filled Esther's ears and calmed her. No matter what he says, she thought, I must convince him. It is too important to allow him to stand between me and the wealth I will need to bring Mosby down. If he refuses…
"Why do you wish to dirty your hands?" Miwokan suddenly said, interrupting her thoughts. The elders nodded in approval. "Do you not believe what I have told you about the gold and all those who worship it? Was this not proven to you?"
"Miwokan. Sunbrother. I do not worship the gold. I need it."
"For what?"
"There are many reasons. Some I cannot tell you. But it is enough for you to know that a woman alone must have the means to support herself."
"A husband could do that."
"I do not want a husband!"
The elders recoiled at the sharpness of her voice. Miwokan stared at her, his face expressionless.
"I did not mean to speak harshly," she said. "But I cannot seem to make you understand."
"I understand more than you know." He looked away as a chunk of ice became dislodged, fell, and sent a spray of sunlit water across the base of the fall. "I understand that something has happened that makes you hate the thought of being with a man. I think it has to do with the child and its father."
"That may be," she said, uncomfortable with the tack he was taking.
"And it is foolish. One thieving priest does not mean that the whole church is evil."
"I do not hate all men."
"Only one?" he asked. The elders leaned forward.
She hesitated. She felt outnumbered, her privacy unfairly breached. Their eyes seemed to bore holes in her forehead. They know, she thought. Somehow they know everything. Then she realized it was the only thing that might persuade Miwokan. "Yes," she finally said.
"Who is this man? If he has wronged you, we will find him and make him pay."
"What is done to him I must do myself."
The elders looked at one another in astonishment. A woman did not speak this way, let alone set out on such a course. Miwokan's brother shook his head disapprovingly.
"And I cannot do it without money," she added quickly. "Do you understand?"
"How do you know the gold you find will be enough?"
"i don't. It is a gamble I have to take."
"I will not help you, then. I know what gold, as well as revenge, do to the human heart."
Esther tossed her head in frustration. "If you do not help me, I will have to hire white men. They will come here and change everything."
"You would do that?" Miwokan was off balance. He had not counted on such determination, defiance. The elders murmured and shifted uncomfortably.
"I'm sorry, but I would have to. I would rather you and your people worked with me. That way the legend would not come true. That way you would share with me, your tribe would be strong in a different way than it is now. Much stronger, in fact. It would not be the end of your people, but a new beginning."
"How can that be?"
"Men are mining near Coloma. Sooner or later, they will come here to search for gold. If no one has staked a claim, they will simply move in, and your people will be driven off."
"We will fight them," Miwokan said. "These are our lands. This has been our place forever." The elders nodded uneasily.
"Don't you understand? They have better weapons! There will be more of them than you! If you have the gold, you can buy weapons to protect yourselves. You can be equal to them in other ways also. In time there will be change. Just as there was change when your people came across the islands of snow and ice. The life of your people must have been different on the far side of the great water. To make it better, you traveled thousands of miles."
"What you say is true. But those changes did not have to do with gold."
"It is time for change again, Sunbrother. This time the gold will help you make a better life, now that the white men are here. As long as you continue to worship the sun, love one another as you do, and stay together, the gold will not be the end of you. Can't you see?"
"I know that you have great wisdom for a woman. But you are too young to know what will happen. Even I do not know that."
"Listen to me. I have read of these things. The new people, the whites, will move in and take your place if they have the gold and you do not."
"You are certain of that?"
"Yes. In other times, it was not gold. Something else, spears, gunpowder, arrows, something, made the new people stronger than those who were there before them. This time it is the gold that will make the difference."
He thought for a moment. "If you hired the white men, you wo
uld be making them stronger."
"I don't want to do that. That is why I have come to you."
"But you would do it if I refuse?"
"I have no choice. I must obtain the money I need."
"Will you tell me more about this man you hate so much?"
"He has dishonored me, and I must make him pay for it." She wanted to reveal more but could not. She saw they still were not satisfied with her response. Reluctantly she resorted to turning their beliefs about her to advantage. " This is why the sun helped me walk across the mountains in the deep snow."
Miwokan turned to the elders and saw they were moved by what she had said. He felt himself swayed by the power of her determination, and the sun had protected her, aided her in her mission. "These words are strong. They bend my mind toward your wishes."
"Then you will help me? You and your people will join me in the work?"
"I did not say that. The legend also stands strong in my thoughts. Let me reason this out," Miwokan said, waving his hand as she began to protest. "You have told me what you believe. And the sun is with you or you would not have lived. I must think of a way to do this thing without offending the sun. I will try. Leave me now, and I will talk with you again about it tomorrow."
At noon the next day Miwokan arrived at the cabin with a dozen young braves. Each of them carried a shallow woven basket and a crude, wooden-handled stone hacking tool.
"There is a way to do this thing," Miwokan said after she had asked him in and they were sitting at her table. "We will work for you. Not with you. For wages. Just as we have for Sutter."
"But I wish to share what we find. I want you and your people to benefit."
"Can you—how is it said?—stake a claim here and on the river near the village as well?"
"I don't know. I think so. I will have to look into it."
