To Build A Shipt - Don Berry

by Don Berry

  While they were arguing I met Vaughn's eyes. He was looking at me open-mouthed with shock. He came over to where I stood just outside the ring of men, and spoke quietly.

  "Ben," he said, "Ben, what are you doing? You said before that Cock Hat was at Nestucca. What do you mean you don't remember?"

  "Vaughn, listen-"

  H "You're as crazy as Sam." He shook his head in bewilderment. "Ben, they're going to hang that boy if we don't stop it."

  "Vaughn, listen to me for once! Sam'll quit us. He'll leave the Ship. Do you understand me? He'1l leave the Ship."

  "But jesus christ, Ben, a man's life—"

  "He told me. We trade Cock Hat for the ship, he means it. What's more important, Vaughn?`One man's life or the Ship? Suppose a guy got killed working on her, it'd be—terrible, but we'd go on. It's the same thing, Vaughn, we can't let her go. Not now."

  He shook his head miserably. "My god, Ben, I don't know. I just don't know. Kilchis, the Indians . . ."

  Anderson and Wallace had resolved their squabble and the lieutenant's voice raised authoritatively. "All right then, you men. We'll vote on it, and then it'll be official."

  "Vote on it?" Vaughn said. "What do you mean, you can't vote facts."

  "It's a jury, like," Wallace said.

  "All right," Anderson said, "everybody in favor of hanging this boy come over by me. Everybody not in favor, step over there."

  Slowly there was a little movement. One by one the Bay men stepped to the side, except for Sam Howard, who remained standing by the lieutenant, staring at us. Vaughn and I stepped over with the others, and Vaughn rapidly told Kilchis in the Jargon what was happening. Our group was pitifully small, Vaughn and me and Thomas and Champion and half a dozen others. The twenty-odd Yam Hill boys outnumbered us by two to one without any trouble.

  The two small knots of humanity confronted each other. The Yam Hill boys grinned at us like wolves. The Bay men were sullen. They—we—were confused and apprehensive.

  "Well, that's clear enough," the lieutenant said. "Guilty he is."

  Kilchis looked at the lieutenant and the Yam Hill boys clustered around, then turned to look at us. He turned slowly and began to walk back toward his lodge, motioning his young men to follow.

  "Hey, come back here," the lieutenant said. "Listen," he said to Vaughn, "you tell him to come back or we'll shoot."

  Vaughn, told him, omitting the threat.

  "I will not watch this thing," Kilchis said quietly.

  "The hell you won't," Wallace muttered, swinging the barrel of his rifle gently to and fro across Kilchis' figure.

  "Lootenant, is this here a objeck lesson like you said, or not? I mean, I ask you, what they going to learn from this here objeck lesson if n they don't see it?"

  "No, you're right," Anderson said, thinking about it.

  "They should all watch."

  `Wallace gestured quickly to some of his boys. "Run them rabbits out o' their hutches," he grinned.

  Half a dozen of the Yam Hill boys went off toward the other lodges, and in a moment there was cursing and shouting from the inside. Triumphantly they herded the whole population of the village out into the open at rifle point. Most of the young men had been in Kilchis' lodge, and the small milling crowd was made up almost entirely of old men, women, and children. The dogs ran wildly around the outskirts of the dense pack, yapping and snarling at everybody.

  "That there's more like it," Wallace said with satisfaction. "What the hell's a hangin' without a audience anyways?"

  "What'll we hang him on?" the lieutenant said absently, looking at the fringe of trees around the edge of the clearing.

  "Looka there," Wallace said, pointing to Kilchis' lodge. The ridge timber projected out from under the eaves by several feet, overhanging the door. "Why, they even got us a gallows ready," Wallace said. "They must of knowed we was coming'."

  "Wait a minute," I said. "You can't hang him on the tyee's own lodge."

  "Now listen, Judge," the lieutenant said. "I don't believe you understand the seriousness of this. This here execution has got to impress these savages. This is perfect."

  "I can't watch this," Vaughn said. "I'm going home."

  He shook his head and started to turn.

  "Say, boy," Wallace said, swinging his rifle barrel casually as he turned to face Vaughn. "That's a real bad idee there. Here we come all the way down to do you a favor, an' you don't even want to watch? No, no. That's a bad idee." With his left hand he reached absently up to s scratch his cheek. The rifle, cradled negligently under his right arm, was fixed as though by accident on Vaughn's belly.

  Vaughn compressed his lips and looked down at the ground.

  "Vaughn, you better come," I said.

  He came over slowly, as though he were being dragged on a chain.

  "That's better," Wallace said cheerfully. "All in the family, boys. Come on, come on!"

  The Yam Hill boys opened up their circle a little and prodded the Indians with their riile barrels. The whole crowd, sixty or seventy people, milled slowly toward the front of the tyee's lodge. The Bay men were simply lumped in with the Indians, and the Yam Hill boys herded the whole mass like a reluctant troop of sheep.

  "Come on, there, let's move, come on!" Wallace kept everything under control. He liked to see people flinch away from him, and jabbed the muzzle of his rifle at them, touching them gently on the ribs and grinning at the scared expressions he provoked when the cold metal touched flesh. The crowd was dense and tightly packed, and it might have been an accident that he jabbed me too, but I did not think so.

  "God damn it, man!"

  "Whoops, sorry, Judge," he said. "Took y' for a Injun, I did." He bellowed with laughter and Kilchis turned to look at us. I couldn't meet his eyes. He turned away. I did not know how I would explain what I had done. And yet I felt very little remorse, only fear of what was to come. When the herd had been massed in front of the lodge, one of the Yam Hill boys brought up the rope, and a cord to tie Cock Hat's hands behind him. The rope was thrown over the ridge pole and settled around Cock Hat's neck.

  "Well," the lieutenant said, "ask him if he's got anything to say."

  "Mika ticky manwok wawa?"

  "Wake."

  "Tell you what," Wallace said. "I'd like t' see this here boy confess."

  "What difference does it make?" I said. "You're going to hang him anyway."

  Wallace swung the muzzle of his rifle around again and said pleasantly, "No, we'll just see if he's got any more guts than that other one. Jack, come here."

  One of the Yam Hill boys gave his rifle to another and came over here Wallace was standing holding the end of the rope. Wallace stood his rifle on the butt against the wall of the lodge.

  "`We'll just try her out for strength a little," Wallace said. The two of them hauled back on the rope. The knot ' tightened under Cock Hat's ear, and they lifted him until just the tips of his toes were touching the ground. He began to strangle, and his toes stretched down toward the ground for support.

  "Wallace, you damned animal! Let him—" One of the Yam Hill boys stepped up beside me with his rifle cradled across his forearms. He didn't even look at me, his attention seemingly fixed on the dangling form of Cock Hat, but the barrel was almost against the side of my

  chest.

  They held him there until his eyes were bulging and his face had purpled. Then they dropped him suddenly. Cock Hat fell to his knees in the dirt, coughing and gasping.

  "Mamook wawa," Wallace snapped at him.

  "Wake, wake," Cock Hat whispered.

  "Don't torture the poor devil," the lieutenant said. "Let's hang him and get it over with."

  "N0w lootenant, you're new around these parts, you just don't get in the way. We know all about these kind o' doin's, the boys and me. All right, Jack."

  They pulled back on the rope again, dragging Cock Hat up from his kneeling position. This time they brought him a few inches off the ground, and his legs twisted wildly, searching for supp
ort. Wallace watched I intently. The crowd shifted from side to side, and there was a low murmur. Cock Hat's face swelled up and the veins of his forehead stood out like rawhide cords. Suddenly a gout of blood spurted from his nose, reddening his chest.

  When they dropped him this time, he fell completely on his side, his hands still tied behind him. He thrashed on the ground, strangling.

  "Loosen that knot," ,Wallace said. His companion stepped over to the writhing figure and spread the knot a little. The strangling sounds turned to retching, and the Indian began to vomit, staining the ground around his head with a foul mixture of blood and vomit.

  "Mamook wawa," Wallace said, watching the contorted face.

  This time there was no answer at all, and Cock Hat continued to retch.

  "Must o' been somethin' he ate as didn't agree with him," Wallace said seriously. He did not take his eyes off the helpless figure that twitched in spasms like a gut-shot animal.

  "Wallace, I don't—" the lieutenant started.

  "Shut up."

  Wallace watched, fascinated. When Cock Hat` had ceased to vomit, he finally looked up. "My god, he's stubborn, this one," he said.

  "Well," ]ack said, "you know that other one didn't confess till we'd run him up three times."

  "Yeah," Wallace said reflectively. "Yeah, that's right. Well, third time's a chairm, boys." He yanked sharply on the rope, jerking Cock Hat's head off the ground and letting it slam back again. "He's real limp, ain't he?"

  One of the old women in the front of the crowd began to wail, the high, shrieking death-song that cut across our ears like the sound of breaking glass.

  "Shut her up," Wallace said absently, and one of his boys jammed the muzzle of his riile hard in the old woman's belly, making her gasp for breath. Cock Hat was struggling awkwardly to his feet. With his hands tied behind his back he had to lever himself up with his head, moving like a crippled bird. Wallace grinned, watching him. When Cock Hat was standing erect he began to speak. His voice was low and rasping, barely audible.

  "You can hang me," he said in the Jargon." You have the power. Hang me, then. The sun will rise tomorrow and the fish will come into the Bay. The moon will be bright. Summer and fall and winter and spring will come to the Bay without me."

  "What did he say?" Anderson asked.

  "Sayin' his prayers," Wallace said. "We'll give him another little bit for good luck. All right, Jack."

  This time they brought him well off the ground, leaning back on the rope with all their weight. Cock Hat's body began to- jerk and twist again, his legs flailing out crazily as he strangled, twisting the rope and turning him around. Abruptly, from behind Wallace, a figure darted. The gnomelike body of Little Sam hurtled the few feet of clear space and he dived at Cock Hat's waist, throwing all his weight. Cock Hat's head jerked suddenly to the side as his neck broke. The last enormous spasm of his body threw Sam off, and the little man fell on his back. Instantly his body contracted, curling into a tight ball, rigid and motionless.

  Cock Hat's spasms ceased. The limp and suddenly shapeless form swung wildly from the momentum of Sam's dive. Finally it settled in a small irregular circle, twisting on the rope like a pendulum coming to rest. The village dogs still ran yapping around the silent, fixed crowd, and one sneaked tail down into the clearing to lap tentatively at the pool of blood and vomit. After a moment Wallace said, "`Well, well. I guess he ain't going to confess. Tie this rope off, Jack." He went over to where Sam lay curled on the ground. He nudged the motionless form with his toe. "You shouldn't ought to've done that," he said, conversationally. "We could o' kept him goin' another ten minutes."

  I ran over and took hold of Sam under the armpits.

  "Get the hell out of here," I said to Wallace. "Come on, Sam." I tried to pull him up. "Come on, Sam, you did right. It was the right thing to do."

  His body was like wood, completely stiff, as rigid as though it had been carved of one piece. As I struggled to get him up, something bumped me from behind, and I said, "Get the hell out of here!" I looked back and saw the body of Cock Hat swinging gently away from me.

  "Listen to that, will you!" Wallace bellowed. " 'Get the hell out of here,' he says. Hey, listen Judge, he can't hear you! Holler louder!"

  The body came swinging back and I moved out of the way as the loose form swung past me so slowly I thought it would never pass. It smelled foul.

  "Sam, come on."

  Finally Sam began to uncurl and loosen a bit. His eyes were blank and unfocused. I helped him back to the cluster of Bay men. "Vaughn, get Sam home, for christ's sake."

  Vaughn nodded and took him from me. It was like exchanging a sack of potatoes, an object. Kilchis stepped up to Wallace. "You go. You have killed him. You go."

  "Hell, yes," Wallace said. "Nothin' to do here." He looked with satisfaction at the still—rotating body of Cock Hat. "T'here's Mr. Siwash the way he looks best, right Jack?" He laughed in Kilchis' face. He laughed at the crowd and at us, he spat out his contempt for us all in one great roar of laughing. Still chuckling he picked his rifle up from the wall and deliberately plowed straight into the crowd of Indians. They separated to let him pass. The Yam Hill boys all followed, making the Indians give way before them, holding their rifles carefully and grinning.

  The Lieutenant came over to me. "`Well, Judge," he said. "I don't think you'll have anymore trouble. These savages respect a show of force, that much I can tell you. Wallace got a little rough, but at heart he's a good man. He knows what these people respect, and I think it's better that way. If you need any more help, just call on us." He stuck out his hand and I turned away.

  "I just say you're a strange man, Judge. After we—"

  "Get out of here," I said. "Just get out."

  He turned and set off in the wake of Wallace and his crew. The Indians turned to watch them go, and when the whites had disappeared around the first bend of the river trail, they turned back to look at Kilchis. One of the young men said something sharp and gestured to the lodge, where their old muzzle-loading fuzees had been left.

  Kilchis spoke softly, but deliberately. I did not understand what he said, as he was speaking Salishan, but the young man did not move toward the lodge.

  "Kilchis, let me talk to you," I said.

  "Yes," he said. "Yes, I must send my people home." He spoke to the crowd, very shortly. They began to drift off toward the other lodges slowly, glancing back at the hanging form of Cock Hat.

  Kilchis did not go back in his own lodge. He started walking down the edge of the river to the little point where it emptied into the Bay. I followed after. He walked heavily, his huge shoulders hunched and the bearskin robe swinging about his knees. He did not speak until we had reached the point. For a moment he stood still, looking out across the Hat expanse of water to the rumbling line of breakers that stretched across the mouth. Then he sat down, his back against a rock, and stared absently with his hands resting limply on his knees.

  "Kilchis, you've got to understand—the Ship—"

  "It is not the Ship, it is Cockshaten. Now there will be trouble. There will be much anger on the coast now. The bands will be angry."

  "What—what will your own people do, Kilchis?"

  "They will do as I say. But we are few. The Nestucca and Yaquina and Alsea are many. I do not know what we can do."

  I didn't understand what he was saying.

  "Kilchis—what I did—you've got to understand why I. ."

  "You did what was possible," Kilchis said. "We could do nothing. Not. with the guns. But—the other bands, they will think only ‘Boston.' They will now know that you are the people of my Bay. I saw what happened. I saw them point the guns at you, and you talked in your language, and they hit you with the guns. I saw. But the other bands will not know."

  I realized then that Kilchis did not know I had condemned Cock Hat with my silence. It had all been in English. He thought we had been desperately arguing to save the man.

  "Kilchis-"

  "Now there
will be trouble, and we must make a defense, for the other bands will be angry. I wish—I wish the Boston had not come to my Bay."

  A defense for us, for the whites. Because we were people of the Bay and had tried to save Cock Hat, who was a man of the Bay. All that was more important than any question of Boston and Siwash.

  I could find nothing to say. I did not tell him I could have prevented it. It was impossible. Cowardice, lust, or obsession, I don't know. But even at that moment the thing that was strongest in my mind was the Ship. We had to finish the Ship, and it made my own guilt petty, trivial. The only thing that was real was the Ship.

  We were silent then for a long time. Finally I said, "Kilchis, the woman of Cock Hat, Star of Morning. Get her away from here. Send her to friends or relatives, but get her away from here."

  "Star of Morning is no longer in the Bay."

  "Where is she?"

  "She is with the Nestucca, she is married to one of the Nestucca men."

  "I—I don't understand, I thought she was Cock Hat's woman."

  "That is why Cockshaten was in Nestucca until now. He sold his woman to one of the people there. She is no longer ofthe Bay."

  "Sold her? But I thought—"

  Kilchis gestured impatiently. "I sent him to do this."

  "You made him sell her to the Nestucca?"

  "Yes. I did not want the woman in the Bay. This was just after you judged Estacuga, and I saw the face of Tenas Sam. I sent her away, because I did not want any more trouble here. I wanted peace."

  2

  I was almost afraid to go home, because I had to pass the Ship. She was now all that remained, the only thing of certainty in a world that was falling apart around us. Cockshaten was dead uselessly, the Killamooks were thrown against the other bands, Kilchis prepared to de- fend "his" people and his Bay against the anger of the others. Everything had exploded, like a fistful of powder thrown into a camphre. And now even the woman was gone as though she had never existed. It was all pointless, it was all meaningless, there was only the insanity that boiled without result. Except for the Ship. For, while it had begun with the woman, it finished, as everything in life finished, with the Ship. For whose lust had Cockshaten died, Sam's or mine? I didn't know. I couldn't straighten it all out in my mind. And I did not know how far Little Sam could be blamed for his actions; there was something terribly wrong with him. I had never seen a man stiff like that. But I—I was sane and healthy, I was responsible for my acts and perhaps Sam was not.