Spirit Pouch

by Vaterlaus, Stanford

  "So, are you making me a sling?" Joseph asks almost yelling with excitement.

  "Yes." I hold out the other lace and loop it through the leather patch and tie it with thread.

  "You have to make me one promise," I say seriously.

  "I will," Joseph says hardly hearing me.

  "Okay," I say. "You have to promise me that you will practice throwing stones far away from the wagons so you will not hit anyone."

  "Okay," he sings. "How do you do it?"

  "This is how it works. You put this loop on your finger so you don't lose the sling. Then you put a rock in the leather, like this." I set a small stone in the patch. "And you hold the other lace with your fingers. You give it a twirl like this." I flip it around very slowly. "When it gets all the way around, you let go of this lace with your fingers and the stone gets loose and goes flying."

  "Can I try it?" Joseph dances.

  "Yes, but remember, we have to practice far away. And it is kind of hard to learn, so you will have to practice a lot."

  "I will," he says solemnly, still dancing with excitement.

  We walk a good distance away from the wagons. Joseph and I practice, taking turns slinging stones, until my arm aches.

  "Joseph is pretty good," I say to William and Ty when I get back to the wagons.

  "Yep," Joseph chirps. "I can hit a tree from one hundred feet away."

  "Every time?" Annie asks.

  "Well, no," Joseph frowns at Annie. "But I am still a pretty good shot."

  "Yes, you are," I say. "After all, you only need to hit your prey once. Even if you miss a few times."

  "That's right. Only have to hit him once," he sings as he sneaks off in search of wild prey.

  * * *

  Wednesday, I discover early in the morning, is a travel day.

  "We will go about seven miles today," Henry says as we walk along. "There should be a nice spot there, according to my notes. Besides, it would be good to catch up with the wagon train, eventually." His face takes on a worried look for a fleeting moment. "Tom's driving, you know."

  "Yes," I say. "I think William told me." But what I am thinking is Indian attacks. There is safety in traveling with the wagon train.

  About noon we stop to rest and water the horse and oxen near a stream. Elizabeth fixes a quick lunch and Annie offers a prayer thanking God for our safe journey today and asks a blessing on the food.

  I sit down on the grassy bank of the trickling stream in the shade of a tall tree. "Aah, this feels good," I breath as I lean back and feel the cool air filter through my damp shirt. I munch at a biscuit and some dried venison, and I realize how hungry I am.

  "You ever wonder exactly how tall this tree is," Ty asks, kicking my foot to see if I am awake.

  "Not really, bro'," I say lazily.

  "You should," he says. "It's geometry."

  "Geometry?" I say, not quite believing he has brought math into the conversation. Maybe he meant dendrochronology, I thought. At least dating tree rings is slightly intriguing.

  "Sure," Ty says smiling. "Using geometry we can actually measure the height of that tree."

  "Okay, I'm listening," I say. I have to admit that if this is geometry, then it is competing very well with dendrochronology for my attention.

  "Can you describe an isosceles right triangle?"

  "Sure," I say hesitantly. I pick up a stick and draw in the dirt. "It has to have two sides that are the same length and the angle between them has to be ninety degrees." I trace a pattern in the dirt that looks more like half of a cheese sandwich cut diagonally.

  Perfect," Ty compliments me. "So if you were to tip your triangle up so that one of the equal sides were on the ground, and the other one is standing up next to the tree…" he waits for me to imagine the triangle standing up on edge, then continues, "… then you slide the triangle away from the tree until you can look right up the slanted edge and see the tree top," he pauses again. "Then all you have to do is measure how far away your triangle is from the base of the tree and that is also how tall the tree is … since the large isosceles triangle also has two equal sides." Ty traces in the dirt how that would look.

  "Cool!" I say.

  William looks at Ty. "That really is clever," he says.

  "Can we do it?" I ask.

  "What? Measure the tree?"

  I nod my head.

  "Sure. Let's make a triangle," Ty directs, picking up two straight sticks and breaking the tip of one to make them approximately equal in length. "I'll hold these at a right angle the best I can. You sight up the diagonal and tell me when you are lined up with the tree top. Ty slowly moves his triangle away from the tree until the three boys all agree that the slanted side of the triangle lines up with the tree top.

  "Okay," he says. "My shoe is close to a foot long, so lets pace it off."

  Ty, William and I all count as Ty takes baby steps back to the tree.

  "Forty," he says. "That tree is very close to forty feet tall.

  "Wow, we did it," I say in awe.

  "Using geometry," Ty emphasizes.

  "Way cool," I say.

  "I don't know about cool, but it was very interesting, Ty. I believe you probably do know everything."

  "That reminds me," Ty says. "Annie and Joseph owe me a marble game lesson."

  "Hitch 'em up. We move out in ten minutes," Henry calls out.

  * * *

  It takes nearly twenty minutes, but at last we are under way once more.

  I walk with Ty near the wagon. I can tell that he is warming up to teach me more geometry.

  "So, explain to me why you can measure a tree with a triangle?" he quizzes.

  "It's because it has two equal sides," I say.

  "And …"

  "Snake!" William yells. "It's a rattler!"

  The horse stops, ears fold back, and she rears up on her hind legs, whinnying as her front hooves paw the air violently.

  "Ty, Jared, back the wagon up," William calls desperately. When the horse comes down her hooves land on the snake, crushing it in two places, and then the horse rears once more.

  I grab a wagon wheel and pull. Ty and Henry do the same. This time when the horse lands, the wagon backs up.

  William is talking, soothing the horse, but stays clear of her dancing hooves. "Whoa, whoa," William calls, patting her neck and side as the wagon backs away from the dying snake.

  "That was close," William says after the horse has settled down. He reaches down and inspects her legs. "I don't see any punctures."

  "That was a close call," Henry agrees. "She was ready to bolt. I could see it in her eyes. Good job getting her calmed down."

  "Thanks for pulling the wagon back," William looks at Ty and me. "If she had run, the wagon would have broken a wheel or tipped over."

  Henry calls his family over and he offers a short prayer, thanking God for watching over us on our journey.

  William clears the snake well off the trail, and soon we are on our way.

  After walking and guiding the wagons all day, I crawl between the blankets at night and sleep really well. The day after traveling is always a resting day.

  * * *

  Four weeks pass and the routine stays the same. Travel, rest, and travel again. Twice we go hunting which is an exciting change from the routine. Ty actually shoots a deer with one round and does not have to take on the name of Shoots-Like-Woman. After curing the skins, William makes a tanning brew out of the deer brain and we tan all of the hides. On the next resting day we make hats from the deer skin. Using thin strips of skin for thread I stitch the brim and sides, I use William's hat for a pattern. Ty braids a leather band and places it around his hat to make it different. Not only am I glad to return the old towel to Elizabeth, but I get to do it in style, sporting my new leather hat. At night I sleep with my hat over my face.

  Wednesday, July 4

  "Today is a travel day," William says as he crawls out from his warm blankets and pulls on his boots. I crawl out, too, but with
much less enthusiasm. I pull on my shoes and wash my face in cold water to drive off the stupor of sleepiness.

  "Hey, happy Independence Day, bro'," Ty grins as I find him over by the heavy wagon.

  I haven't even realized that it is the Fourth of July. Images of fireworks and sitting on the grass somewhere next to Lyn, with the warm summer breeze blowing across my face, flash across my mind in an instant. And having a barbeque earlier in the day. Jeff, Chris and Matt are there, of course. And Mom. A pang twists in the bottom of my stomach.

  "Let's get loaded, boys. We want to be on the trail soon today," Henry says as he passes by carrying a load of blankets.

  My thoughts of home fizzle like the last raining embers of light after the fireworks finale. "Okay. I'll round up the horse." I reply, as my mind settles back into 1866.

  I'm getting pretty good at hitching up the horse, and after a short breakfast we are walking. Walking toward Utah.

  "We could travel more," I suggest to William after noticing that Henry seems a little more impatient each day.

  "Grandmother and Grandfather need the rest," William says. "It is even hard on Annie and Joseph."

  "They do look pretty tuckered out by nighttime," I agree.

  "Did you notice that we are traveling more miles each day, though?" William asks.

  "I did notice," I smile. "I think your father wants to catch up with the wagon train that Tom is driving."

  "Traveling with the wagon train would be more safe," William says softly. "Father is worried about Indians."

  "Aren't we all worried about Indians?" I reply. I know I am. Maybe I have watched too many old westerns on television. "At least the Sioux Indians? Aren't they more hostile?"

  William does not answer for a few paces. "Father says that for the last two days he has seen dust on the horizon. I have noticed it, too. It may be from the wagon train."

  "How can we possibly catch up with it at the pace we are going?" I quiz.

  "Father says that the wagon train makes frequent stops at small settlements just off the trail to buy and to sell goods, so we are gradually catching up with them. He hopes we will find them on Friday when we get to Willow Springs. Willow Springs is a stagecoach station close to Tie Siding, and the wagon train will stop there for sure."

  "In two days?" I say.

  William nods.

  Friday, July 6

  The fog of sleep lifts like pushing a wet rug onto a clothesline, and I roll over. Soft morning twilight filters through my eye lids and does nothing to lessen the anguish of an early awakening. The morning is peculiar, odd in some way. Today will be a travel day. That means work. Loading, hitching, walking, a lot of walking. Sore feet.

  But something is different. Something is unusual, I think. A noise woke me up. A different noise. There it is again. "Laughing?" I mumble. "On a travel day?"

  Annie is laughing and Elizabeth is singing softly as the breakfast making process begins.

  That is a first, I think. At least for me. I slip out of the blankets and pull on my tennies. I am the last one up, of course, and no one seems to care.

  "Maybe Tom will be there," Joseph laughs.

  "I hope we get to see him before the wagons go on the trail again," Elizabeth smiles. She starts humming again.

  Aah, that's it, I remember. It makes me smile, too. Today is Willow Springs. That will be a trading and selling stop for the freight wagons. We could catch up with the freight wagons and Tom. That is why everyone is happy and eager to get on the trail.

  "I got to yoke the oxen today," Ty says.

  "Really?"

  "I did it by myself, too," he brags. "William and George were too busy planning what they want to do in Willow Springs, I guess, because they just stood there and watched as I yoked up all four oxen."

  "What are they going to do in Willow Springs?" I ask curiously. What ever it is, maybe we could come along, I think.

  "William mentioned trading some deer pelts. I didn't hear much else. He thought they might have ice cream."

  "Then I definitely want to come along," I say. "The last time I had ice cream was in Central City with William. It was about the best ice cream I've ever had."

  "Probably used real cream," Ty answers, but I can tell that his thoughts are elsewhere.

  Breakfast is great. Between bites of grits and bacon everyone is chattering about seeing Thomas again. Even Ty gets caught up in the excitement, even though he has never met Thomas.

  We load the wagons in record time, and after a morning prayer offered by Elizabeth, we head off for Willow Springs.

  About forty five minutes into our trek, while I am momentarily walking alone, Ty steps over to me and matches my pace behind the wagon. He is quiet for a while and we just walk with our own thoughts.

  "How long are we going to stay here?" Ty finally asks in a quiet voice.

  "Probably as long as the freight wagon is in Willow Springs," I say guessing. "I really don't know."

  "Not Willow Springs. I mean Colorado."

  "Until we cross the border, I guess," I frown at Ty. That is kind of an unusual, maybe crazy, question coming from Ty. "Why are you asking me that question?"

  Ty takes a deep breath and starts over more slowly. "How long are we going to stay in 1866?" he asks, his voice resonating with frustration.

  This time I know what he means. I still want to answer by saying, 'Until New Years Day', but I bite my lip and reply seriously. "Ty, I don't have a spirit pouch. It doesn't travel in time with us."

  "So … are we stuck here?" he says, raising his eyebrows, not wanting to embrace the idea of being stranded in 1866. "I … I mean … you found a way to get back from Dog City, or what ever it is called. I mean … what's the deal? Don't you want to go back to our own time?"

  "I think about it almost every day," I say, running my finger along the friendship bracelet on my wrist. Ty does not reply, and after a long minute I say, "I'll ask Annie if the spirit pouch we made got packed, and if we can have it."

  "Thanks," Ty says quietly and starts to drift back to the oxen.

  "Ty," I call to him. He comes back. "I think I'm afraid to go back," I confess.

  "You will do fine on the geometry test," he says. "You know this stuff backwards and forwards."

  "It's not that," I say.

  "Well, I'm sure your mother will miss you, and probably Lyn, too, if you stay here."

  "No. It's just that when I returned home last time, I returned to the exact same time and place that I left from. No one would have even known that I was gone for five days. I mean … I didn't even believe it myself for a short while there."

  "That sounds like a good thing to me," Ty says smiling. Then his smile fades. "Are you implying that …" his voice cuts off as if he is trying to deny the truth by not speaking it.

  I know the feeling. If you say it, it may become a self fulfilling prophecy. But this has to be said. "Ty, we left from the trunk of a burning car. I don't want to go back."

  Ty is quiet as we walk side by side. "Maybe we don't have to go back to the same place," he says, finally breaking the silence.

  "Yes," I agree. "But maybe we do. I'm not ready to take that risk. It is better to live here, than burn to death there."

  Ty breathes deep and long. I can tell he is debating that thought in his mind. "You're probably right," he says after a time and moves off to help George with the oxen.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Hide And Seek

  Saturday, July 7

  I feel George and William push the blankets and I know I am awake. "You guys just coming to bed?" I whisper groggily.

  "No," George says laughing. "It's morning. Come on."

  We had traveled ten miles or more yesterday, and everyone was tired. I know I was. We stopped our wagons just outside of Willow Springs where there is grass for our stock and water, too. After dinner William had volunteered to walk into Willow Springs and find Thomas if he was still there. We had family prayer early and William set off for the settlement. />
  Ty and George threw out the canvas and I helped with the blankets. I was glad to get off my feet and fell asleep quickly.

  "Hey," I say, feeling the excitement in the air for the second morning in a row. "Did you find Thomas last night?"

  "I sure did," William replies, pulling on his boots. "I would have told you but you were sleeping solidly when I got back. Thomas was eating dinner near the freight wagon. It took me a while to find him, though. I had to ask several people where he was. We talked for a while and he said that he had chores to do last night and a few things to do this morning, then he would come visit us. They plan to get on the trail in two days after they trade and purchase supplies."

  "Come for breakfast," Elizabeth calls.

  I have no trouble scrambling out of bed, sliding on shoes and getting to breakfast. I tie my shoes while everyone arrives.

  "We are thankful to be in Willow Springs," Henry says when we are all gathered around. "Thomas will join us soon because we have finally caught up with the freight wagon."

  "No time for a speech, Henry," Elizabeth whispers, "or the food will burn in the pan."

  "Can we go to Willow Springs today?" George asks.

  "Yes. But not until Thomas has come."

  Henry asks a blessing on the food and expresses thankfulness for our safe arrival at Willow Springs and that Thomas has been safe on the freight wagons. Elizabeth serves cornbread with bacon in it and molasses poured over the top.

  "Thank you for a delicious breakfast," I say as Elizabeth takes my plate.

  "That was really good," Ty adds.

  "Thank you, boys," she says smiling. She walks back to the cooking area and slides the dishes into a pot of warm soapy water.

  I look at Ty and smile.

  "I wasn't being sycophantic," he says defensively, "because what I said is true."

  "I hate to break up your scientific debate," William interrupts, "but I need Jared to come check on the cattle with me. We do have chores to do, you know."