Curse Of The Spanish Gold (The Mountain Men Book 2)

by Terry Grosz

  “Hello, you two. I was hoping you would make it through the Truckee River battle and eventually come home,” said their old friend Jim Beckwourth as he rode up on a mule.

  “Hello, Jim,” Jacob and Martin said in unison.

  “What the dickens is all this?” said Martin, pointing toward the new structures.

  “Well, all of us in the valley figured you two were too tough to get kilt in the fight, so we got together and built everything back up so you would have a place to stay. Also, I hope you noticed that we built them big enough to house all of you chaps,” said Jim as he made the rounds shaking the hands of all the other men. “We also reburied Dave and Jerry proper-like over there on that hill where they can overlook all our ranches.”

  Getting down from their horses, the men stretched their tired frames as Jacob and Martin thanked Jim for what he had done for the Halls. Then they inspected their new cabins, barn, and homesite.

  “The people you brought across in the wagon train figured it was the least they could do for you two since you saw to it they had supplies and herds of livestock, and you staked them on the trail from Fort Bridger,” said Jim with a twinkle in his eyes.

  “Well, I’ll be horsewhipped,” said Jacob, still amazed at the results lying before him in all their fresh-peeled pine and Douglas-fir log splendor.

  “If we are to sleep with a roof overhead tonight, we had better get a roof on this second cabin,” said Cain with a big grin as he took off his shirt so he could get down to brass tacks.

  Looking over at the half-bare man, Jacob could still see the whip scars across his broad back inflicted by the captain of the Sea Witch.

  Never again will anyone do that to anyone in my new family, he thought grimly as he pulled off his own shirt in preparation for the labors ahead. In so doing, his scars from the whip were also evident to all.

  Jim left to tell the folks around the valley that the boys were back, and the men left behind finished the second cabin in a long afternoon. They put all their pack animals and horses into the new corrals as the men moved into their new homes lock, stock, and barrel.

  Martin killed a nice California mule-deer buck for dinner, and soon the smell of beans cooking over the open fire and corn- bread in the Dutch ovens graced the cooling night air. Bill and Leo came back from Grizzly Creek, each holding a dozen fat trout strung through their gills on a willow stick.

  “Breakfast,” said Leo with a grin as he held up his catch.

  “Hell, man, you have just enough for me. What about all the rest of the guys?” said Cain with a big grin.

  “Thought you might grumble about our catch,” said Leo as he dug a twenty-six-inch cutthroat trout out of a tote sack and held it high in the air for all to see. “This one is for you, my always hungry big friend,” he said with a grin.

  Cain, realizing he had been bested, reached over, picked Leo up, and held him and his big trout high over his head, saying, “I think I will have both of these little trout for my breakfast,” to the laughter of all the men.

  “Chow is ready,” said Martin as he took the lid off the Dutch oven to reveal golden-brown cornbread. Soon all was quiet as the men fell to dinner with appetites brought on by the clean mountain air and hard work. Afterward the men squatted on their haunches or sat on a log pulled up to the cooking fire and quietly smoked their pipes. They let the quiet of the evening surround them and their deepest thoughts.

  “Why such deep thoughts, Bill?” asked Jacob.

  “Well, I have been thinking. I miss the gentle rocking of a ship, the sound of wheeling gulls, and the smell of the salt air. I thought I had enough of that life, but traveling all this way and the fight in the saloon has gotten me to thinking. Maybe someday I will go back to my home on the sea,” Bill said with a faraway look on his face.

  “I have been thinking the same thing,” said John Paul. “It is hard to get the sea out of my blood and away from my thoughts. Besides, it is hard to walk on ground that does not move like the pitching timbers of a good ship under full sail.”

  “Not me,” said Leo. “It’s solid ground for me and my kind. You can take that sea duty and give it to the bears.”

  “I agree,” said Ran Slaten. “I plan on making my home in that little town of American Valley we passed through some days past. That whole area is really pretty and seems like a place where I would like to settle down.”

  Cain, Martin, and Jacob sat quietly, lost in their thoughts and considering the remarks of their friends. They too had found that they missed the thrill of sailing and the sea—a place that was like the old frontier, not crowded with people and still loaded with adventure.

  Early the next morning the men rose from their sleeping furs to the sounds of braying mules, men talking, children laughing, and dogs barking. Stepping out from his cabin door, Jacob was confronted by all his friends from the valley, including Kim and Amanda along with their new husbands. Tumbling out behind Jacob came the rest of the men, surprised at the numbers and noise from the many people in front of their cabins.

  “We came to finish the second cabin,” said Chris Grosz, “but it appears someone has already done so.” Then everyone closed in around the men fresh from the Truckee River fight, and hundreds of questions flew back and forth as the tale of the fight was told and retold.

  After half an hour of getting reacquainted, Rich Grosz said, “Well, since the work is done, what say we have a big feed? I will bring one of my steers over this evening, and we can kill it and prepare it for an old-fashioned open-pit cookout.”

  That suggestion met with lots of support, and instantly the women in the party wanted to go home so they could cook their favorite dishes for the morrow’s feast. Soon the crowd was gone as fast as it had materialized.

  Jacob and crew, realizing they had a ton of work to do, got cracking. First they dug a big fire pit and lined it with stones from Grizzly Creek. Then they dragged dry cottonwood logs to the pit and set them afire so they would have plenty of coals in which to cook a whole beef the next day. As the pit gained heat, a fresh trout breakfast was quickly served, and then the work continued for the festivities to come.

  Jacob and Cain began cutting up numerous small logs so they could make chairs for the crowd soon to come. The rest of the men hauled more cottonwood for the fire pit and built pine-log tables for the community feast. Soon things began to look shipshape as the men brought buckets of water to dampen the dust around the cooking area, tables, and fire pit. About then Rich Grosz returned with a large beef, which was soon butchered and spitted over the fire. Leo Suazo, a cook beyond compare, prepared a wet sauce to be slopped over the slowly cooking meat as Bill Black and Ran Slaten went to Mormon Junction and returned around midnight with a pack mule loaded with bottles of beer and a case of whiskey for the celebrants. That evening the men sat around the slowly cooking beef, drinking beer and talking about old times, most of which were sea related.

  The following morning, as the ranchers began arriving from around the valley, the women began preparing the tables for the welcome-back feast for the brothers and the rest of the men in the Truckee River battle. As the morning heat increased, cold beers were retrieved from the cool waters of Grizzly Creek, and soon most of the men had forgotten about their many war wounds...

  Jacob and Martin had an opportunity to wish Kim and Amanda well in their new lives and to give them the gifts they had purchased in San Francisco. They gave them everything but the diamond rings they had purchased to aid in their proposals of marriage. Since that was now not to be, they later tossed the rings quietly into a deep, trout-filled pool in the cold waters of Grizzly Creek without a backward glance.

  Then the feast began, and what a time was had by all, especially when Otis and Marvin got out their fiddle and banjo and many feet began to fly. The music wafted far into the night and off into the evening’s cooling breezes. People finally drifted off to their wagons to sleep off the good food and to dream about the day’s festivities. The next morning the celebra
tion began all over again until the beef and beer were gone. Then the parties left to go back to their ranches so they could take care of their livestock and crops.

  The quiet after the celebration was appreciated by Jacob and Martin and their companions, all of whom were used to long spells of solitude broken only by Mother Nature’s beauty. Lighting up their pipes and filling their mouths with good chew, the men sat back and rested from the rigors of too much partying. Bill Black was the first to break the welcome silence.

  “Jacob, if it be all right with you, I would like to return to San Francisco so I can sign on with a good ship and return to sea duty.”

  “Bill, if’n that is your druthers, how about a companion along the way? Maybe we can sign on to the same ship,” said John Paul.

  Jacob looked hard at Martin and Cain, and they stared back at him. In a moment of inner recognition, all three realized that the West was changing, and not to a way of their liking as mountain men of old.

  Jacob spoke slowly, saying, “Our land is changing, as are the times and our lives. After all this time of wanting to settle down, I am not so sure now that is what I really wanted. Maybe the sea is the place for me as well. At least there we are not bumping elbows, having to fight our way out of saloons, and having to watch almost everyone so they don’t clean us out. In fact, we just have to worry about the freshening wind and rogue waves. What say you, my brothers?” he asked, turning to Cain and Martin.

  Cain spoke first, saying, “You have been more than a brother to me ever since we met over that moose carcass so long ago. I will happily go to sea with you, my brother.”

  “I guess that about settles it,” said Martin. “I have really come to love that big pond they call the Pacific Ocean ever since I took off my moccasins the first time and waded in it by San Francisco. I go with you, my brothers, until the end of our adventure, wherever it carries us.”

  “Not me,” said Ran Slaten. “As I said earlier, I plan on settling down in American Valley, raising a family, and going into the cattle and dairy business. Just looking around, it seems there is lots of demand for milk, butter, cream, and meat in all the surrounding towns and mining camps.”

  Leo spoke last, saying, “I will miss all you big lugs, but I would like to stay here in Sierra Valley, raise a family, and go into the dairy business. Like Ran, I can see a market for dairy goods in Virginia City and every point in between. So here I mean to stay. No more stinking holds of ships, rats as big as cats, and me seasick all the time. I like it here just fine.”

  “Then it is settled,” said Jacob. “Martin and I will give you our ranch and lands, which are already paid for, Leo. Then we will split the take from the fight, except for the Spanish gold. Martin and I inherited that and intend to keep it for down the line when we might need it. But we will split our gold nuggets and coin with all of you equally. With that, you will be able to start out and have a good life no matter what you decide to do.” There was a murmur of approval over the fairness of his words, and Jacob continued, “Let’s get cracking, for we have a lot to do before tomorrow at daylight. There is no use sitting around here when we can once again feel the roll of a ship under our feet!”

  Sitting on his horse, Jacob looked down at Leo and said, “Leo, let the good people in the valley know the cattle and supplies we brought back from the Sacramento Valley are for them to share equally with no strings attached. Please let our good friend Jim Beckwourth know that all of us felt it better to leave this way because we are tired of the killing that seems to follow us everywhere and all the sad good-byes. Also, let Jim know we really appreciated all he did for us over the years. Please let all the families, especially those from Martin’s and my clans, know we love them but felt it best to move on into wherever this new adventure and time takes us, just like our dads did.”

  With that, the friends shook hands all around, and then their horses and pack strings faded into the early-morning dark of the forest as they headed west toward San Francisco.

  With them went the curse of the Spanish gold...

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The Raven and the Last Golden Bar

  Jacob and company entered the office of the San Francisco Port Authority and stood quietly to one side as the port manager finished his business with another customer.

  Finishing, the portly port manager said, “What can I do for you lads?”

  “We are looking for a good ship, preferably a whaler, and if one is not available, a square-masted rigger at least one hundred feet in length that could be converted to a whaler,” said Bill. Then, looking over at Martin and Jacob for confirmation, Bill continued, “Oh, one with an iron bottom would be even better because we are going to use it in the northern waters around Alaska and its ice fields.”

  The port manager got out his eyeglasses, pulled a heavy, leather-covered book from under the counter, laid it on top, and opened it. For about five minutes he ran a greasy finger down the entries in the ledger before he stopped at one.

  “Here is one that fits the bill. It’s an old whaler but was built by a master shipwright in Massachusetts eight years ago. It is three-masted, one hundred and sixteen feet in length, has a twenty-six-foot beam, is iron-hulled, draws ten feet, and has a fifteen-horse, coal-fired steam engine with a single screw for emergencies. What do you think, lads?” he asked as he looked up from his ledger.

  “Sounds like just what we want in a ship for the uses we have in mind,” said Bill.

  Jacob nodded, deferring to Bill’s expertise in ships, and then said, “When can we see her?”

  “I can have a lad and a longboat here within the hour if you gents would care to wait,” said the port manager with a smile.

  “Sounds good to us,” said Jacob. “Is there a saloon nearby where we can have a drink and get something good to eat without being shanghaied while we wait?”

  “Yes, sir. Go back down this dock and turn east at the first street. You will see a saloon called the Sea Serpent Inn. They not only serve drinks but a good meal as well if you are interested,” said the manager. “By the way, boys,” he continued, “without knowing it, you may have struck it rich in a manner of speaking. Ever since this gold rush started, ships have pulled into the bay with their cargos and then the crews desert for the diggings. As a result, our bay is full of ghost ships rotting at their anchors. This one we are talking about, the Raven, arrived less than a month ago and since the crew and her captain deserted has just been sitting there waiting for a crew to take her to sea. Her owners, a New York firm, have lowered the price more than $20,000 just last week. So if you are really serious about taking her to sea, you might just be able to get her for a real bargain.”

  “Bill,” said Jacob, “if this be our ship, how many more men would we need to crew her?”

  “Counting all of us and knowing what you want her for, I would say at least sixteen more mates would do it,” Bill replied.

  “Where the devil we going to get sixteen more men,” asked Jacob, “in light of everyone running off to the gold diggin’s?”

  “Pardon me, gents,” said the port manager. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation, and I may have an answer. Not everyone ran off to the diggin’s. There are a few old salts not interested in going to the gold fields over at the Longshoremen’s Office, two blocks down from your saloon and eatery. You could check in there and see if there are enough good men lying around looking for a pitching deck under their feet with which to crew your ship.”

  “That we will do, old-timer, but first a good shot of whiskey to ward off the damp air and something to eat to hold our ribs apart, and then we will go and check. Oh, by the way, when your man arrives with the longboat, just send him down to where we are at the saloon,” said Jacob.

  “Got you, mate. Will do,” said the port manager, and Jacob and his friends left his office for the saloon.

  “Ain’t you gonna ask him the selling price?” asked John Paul.

  “No reason,” said Jacob. “We will kno
w when we see her if she is the ship we want or not. Besides, we are carrying enough gold coin and Spanish ingots to purchase any ship in the bay, I would wager, and still have enough left over to not only crew her but supply her as well.”

  Walking up the dock to the street, the men turned as instructed and soon found themselves sitting around a large table in the Sea Serpent Inn. They were careful to sit in such a manner that none of them could get hit from behind and shanghaied. Then they ordered drinks, which were followed by a generous helping of steak, spuds, eggs, and homemade bread. During their meal, they were interrupted by a lanky seaman sent to fetch them so he could take them out to the Raven, as promised by the port manager.

  “Sit down, lad,” said Jacob, warmed by his second two fingers of whiskey. “Have you had anything to eat this morning?”

  “No, sir,” replied the lanky man.

  Jacob pulled out an extra chair for the man to sit. Soon he was also eating breakfast, and from the way he was wolfing down his food, it seemed it had been some time since he had seen his last meal.

  “What’s your name, lad?” asked Martin.

  “Jacob Dean, sir,” he replied between mouthfuls.

  “That be a good omen, boss,” said Bill with a grin.

  “I am also called Jacob,” said Jacob with a grin as he formally introduced the new Jacob all around to the men.

  “Is it true, sir, that you may want to take the Raven to sea once again?” asked Dean.

  “If she be a good and sound vessel,” said Jacob, “then she will go to sea once again so we can hunt sea otter, if we can find a crew.”

  “If you be looking for seamen, I would like to throw my hat in the ring,” Dean said with a grin.

  “What did you do at sea before you were landlocked?” asked Bill.

  “I was a shipwright, and a damn good one,” he replied.

  Then there was a flurry of questions as John Paul tested the man’s knowledge of a ship and its workings. As this question- and-answer period went on, the rest of the men looked on and listened with keen interest.