by Stephen Bly
“Really?” Retta’s voice cracked. “Was he hard to catch? Is he wild?”
“Easy to catch.” He pointed to the horse’s fetlock. “He was picketed.”
Retta slipped off Prince and felt her moccasins mash into the soft prairie soil. “Someone just up and left him staked to the prairie? Who would do that? He’s a beautiful horse.”
“That’s why we sent for you. There’s some Indian writin’ on the dirt. We figured you could cipher it.” Andrew winked at Lerryn.
“What does it say?” Retta questioned.
“There are just some pictures. Come here and read it for us.”
Retta walked by the pinto and stroked his neck and then scratched behind his ears. “Did you ever see such a beautiful chestnut-and-white horse?”
“Nope, I don’t reckon I did.” Andrew pointed to the ground. “There it is.”
Retta walked around and squatted by the markings. “It’s Two Bears’ drawing. Look, there’re his two little bears. It must be his horse.”
“No, I don’t think so.” Andrew pointed to a different drawing in the dirt. “Look at this.”
“That’s a paint horse ... and that’s a buffalo. I’ve seen him draw them before.”
“I think it means horse equals buffalo.”
“You mean, we have to eat this horse like a buffalo?” Retta gasped.
“I don’t think so.” Andrew took her hand and pointed to a different symbol. “What do you think this is?”
“A red bear? That’s me.”
Andrew took her arm, and they both stood up. “Li’l sis, Two Bears traded you this horse for your buffalo.”
“No, that’s not what it means,” Retta insisted.
“Yes, it is.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Two Bears told me so. He’s right up there at the river, movin’ his family across.”
“You mean, it’s my horse?”
“Yep.”
“It’s really my horse?”
“Yep.”
“My very own? I own him?”
“He belongs to you. What do you think?”
“I think I’m goin’ to cry.” She turned around to look at Lerryn, who sat grinning on Prince. “He’s my horse,” she sobbed.
“I know, Coretta Emily.” Lerryn tucked her blonde hair under her bonnet. “Now you’ll have to think of a name for him.”
Retta threw her arms around the pinto’s neck and hugged him. “I already have a name for him. I’ve had a name picked out since I was five.”
“What’s that?” Lerryn asked. “What’re you goin’ to call him?”
Retta puffed out her cheeks and then roared, “His name is Muggins.”
Chapter Seven
Retta considered it the best feeling in the world.
The easterly wind blew her hair straight back.
Hooves thundered across the prairie.
Hot sun.
Dry air.
Blue sky.
She bounced in unison with the nine hundred pounds of horseflesh beneath her. Life was wonderful. From the back of Muggins.
She tugged on the rope reins as she pulled up to the river. A group of Indians rode and waded across the shallow river.
“Two Bears,” she hollered.
The brown-skinned, lean-muscled man at the river’s edge turned and smiled. “Ah, Red Bear, you have come home.” He held an arm up to her.
She slid down the offside of the pinto and jogged over to him. “Now don’t you start pretending I’m your daughter.” Retta threw her arms around the man. “Two Bears, thank you for my horse.”
He hugged her back and grinned. “Is this not the way you hug your father?”
“Yes, it is. But you’ll just have to get used to the idea that I’m not going to live with you,” she blurted out in laughter.
Two Bears rubbed his chin as if contemplating the future of the buffalo on the Great Plains. “I shall have to live in sadness.” He grinned.
She ran back over to the horse that stood quietly on the prairie, his rope reins lying on the ground. “Isn’t Muggins the most beautiful horse in the world?” she shouted.
Two Bears walked over to her. “His name is Muggins?” Retta danced around him. “Oh, yes!”
“That is strange.” Two Bears grabbed the startled horse’s nose and stared straight into the big eyes. “He never told me his name was Muggins.”
She threw her arms around the poll of the horse. “When I was a little girl, I dreamed that I would one day own a pinto, and his name would be Muggins.”
“And now your dream has come true.”
She watched as Two Bears thrust his fingers into his mouth and whistled loudly. Across the river three horses emerged from the water and then stopped dead in their tracks. She put her arm into his. “You’re an angel.”
Two Bears raised his black eyebrows. “Does your God allow Shoshone to be angels?”
“Oh, yes.” Retta clapped her hands. “He’s quite tolerant, you know.”
Still surveying the crossing, he nodded. “Yes, I have heard that.”
Retta crawled back up on the back of the pinto. “Why don’t you and your family travel with us?”
“Where are you going?”
She leaned back, her hand on Muggins’s rump. “To catch up with the wagon train. Where’re you going?”
Two Bears once again studied the river. “To almost catch up with the wagon train.”
By early afternoon the mixed procession plodded west across the trackless prairie on the north side of the river. William, Two Bears, and Retta led the way. Then came the Barre wagon. Mr. Barre kept the oxen moving. Lerryn rode on the wagon seat with her quilting in her hands. Mrs. Barre lay on blankets inside the covered wagon. Then came a line of three travois led by Lucy Two Bears carrying her baby on her back, then the remuda of Indian horses, and finally Andrew and the Barre cattle.
Shy Bear walked alongside the covered wagon, wearing her pansy-plum gingham dress and bonnet. One of her smaller brothers rode the lead ox and kept up a running unintelligible conversation with Mr. Barre.
About an hour before sundown, they pulled over to the treeless river near thick brush and made camp. Two Bears’ wife and children set up their two conical tents across from the covered wagon. A community fire was built between the two camps. The joint meal cooked, Lerryn and Retta helped Mrs. Barre climb down out of the wagon.
“Coretta, are you sure it’s safe to camp with ... your friends?” she whispered.
“I imagine that’s exactly what Two Bears’ wife is asking him right now.”
“I suppose we’re all fearful of what is different.”
“They aren’t all that different. They like fresh meat, sunny days, and fast horses,” Retta remarked.
“Yes, well, that being the case, I can see how compatible we are.” Mrs. Barre released a grin, and wrinkles melted from around her eyes. “Darlin’, if only I could see the world through your eyes every day. You have such a delightful gift of happiness.”
When everyone huddled around the fire and the cooking pots, Two Bears held up his hands. “I will speak for my family since most cannot speak your language. We thank you for allowing us to travel with Red Bear and her family. She makes us smile, and we are grateful for that. And now Red Bear will pray for us.” He bowed his head and instantly the whole Shoshone family lowered their heads.
“Me?” Retta gulped.
“Go ahead, darlin’,” Mr. Barre prodded.
Retta bowed her head. “Eh, Lord ... this is Coretta Emily ... again ... and this is my family and my good friends ... Well, they’re all sort of my family.... Please bless this food, even though I don’t know what’s in the brown bowl, but I’ll probably try to eat it anyway. And keep Mama feeling good, and may we catch up with the wagon train tomorrow, and I sort of hope Ansley kept her word about Ben. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
Lerryn sidled up next to her as they scooped food on their plates.
“Did
that sound dumb?” Retta asked. “I didn’t know what to say, and so I just said what was on my mind.”
Lerryn leaned her shoulder against Retta’s. “So you’re worried about Ben?”
“When they pulled out, I thought I might never see any of them again. But if we do catch up tomorrow, well,” Retta rolled her eyes, “I reckon I’d like to visit with him.”
Lerryn pointed to the brown pot. “What is this stuff?” she whispered.
“I don’t know,” Retta whispered back. “Two Bears said it would be better if I didn’t know.” Retta scooped some of the lumpy white mash onto her plate. She stabbed one of the lumps with her fork and popped it into her mouth.
“What does it taste like?” Lerryn asked.
“Mmmmmphth.” Retta swallowed hard. “Oh, sort of halfway between lima beans ... and chicken.”
People sat on crates, quilts, and buffalo robes as they ate. There was a steady drone of conversation and laughter, though the families were unable to communicate much with each other. Mrs. Two Bears nursed her baby at the entrance to one of the lodges.
It didn’t cool off when the sun went down, but the wind picked up a little. Mrs. Barre went back inside the covered wagon. After dark the fire was built up. Two Bears told a long story about Jim Bridger, speaking a line in English and then in Shoshone. When he finished, everyone laughed.
Then Shy Bear stood. With her chin on her chest, she stared at the coals in the fire and began to sing a chant. The other family members joined in.
When she finished, the Barre family all clapped. Retta stood and began to sing “Amazing Grace.” First Lerryn and then William and Andrew came beside her and sang. As soon as they concluded, Two Bears’ family whistled and shouted.
Then Shy Bear began another Shoshone chant.
This was followed by another hymn from the Barre family, and the song exchange continued for almost an hour. When Two Bears began his third Jim Bridger story, Shy Bear tugged on Retta’s sleeve. Retta trailed the Indian girl to the edge of the camp where the horses were picketed. Shy Bear took Retta straight to the pinto.
“Isn’t he beautiful?” Retta whispered. In the background she could hear Two Bears telling his story. The Indian borrowed William’s rifle for the part about Bridger shooting an elk near an obsidian mountain.
Shy Bear pointed to the horse’s back.
“You want to ride him with me?” Retta pointed to Shy Bear, then to herself, and then to the horse.
The Indian girl nodded.
“Give me a boost.” Retta grabbed the horse’s mane and jumped up on his back as Shy Bear shoved her up.
Retta reached down her hand. “Come on!”
Shy Bear leaped and caught Retta’s arm with both hands. The weight of the Indian girl’s body pulled Retta off the horse, and she landed on top of Shy Bear. Both girls began to laugh.
Until a strong arm grabbed Retta’s shoulder and a pistol shoved in her side.
“Unhand that white girl,” the deep voice growled.
Shy Bear’s eyes grew wide as she lay on her back on the ground. Retta puffed out her cheeks and twisted her head. In the shadows she spied an army lieutenant with a light brown goatee.
Retta stood up and brushed down her buckskin dress. “We’re just playing.”
The officer spoke softly. “You speak English?”
Retta wiggled her nose. “My name is Retta Emily Barre from Barresville, Ohio, and we’re on our way to Oregon City, Oregon. Who are you?”
He pulled off his hat and scratched his blond head. “You’re not Indian?”
“No, Shy Bear’s the Indian.” She reached down and helped the girl to her feet.
Shy Bear looked up at the uniformed man and then hid behind Retta.
The man scratched his neck and lowered the gun. “What’s going on here?”
“I told you, we’re on our way to Oregon. Shy Bear and her family are only going to Fort Bridger.”
“You’re traveling together?”
“Yes, but our wagon train is up ahead. We had to lag back because Mama was sick. Well, she’s still sick but feeling much better, thank you. So we crossed the river to catch up, and Two Bears—they’re Shoshone, you know— well, he and his family are friends of mine. They gave me this dress. Actually Shy Bear and I traded dresses. I must admit I got the best of the deal. So we’re traveling together, and we camped here for the night, and we were all singing, except for mother. She’s in the wagon because she needs the rest. Then Two Bears decided to tell a long story. He likes to tell long stories, but Shy Bear and me came over to see Muggins. That’s my horse. My very own horse. Isn’t he the most beautiful horse in the world? And we came over to ride him, and I climbed up and tried to help Shy Bear, but I fell off on top of her, and we were having fun and laughing until you stopped us.”
Retta paused and puffed out her cheeks. “Who are you, and why are you here?”
Another soldier stepped up beside the lieutenant. “My word, you are an American all right. Are you telling me you’re traveling with these savages?” the private muttered.
“No, I said we’re traveling with friends.” She turned to the officer. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“I’m Lieutenant Rogers from Fort Laramie. My company is looking for a renegade Arapaho who has been causing trouble.”
Retta put her arm around the cowering Shy Bear. “You’re looking for Tall Owl?”
The officer looked startled. “You’ve seen him?”
“Oh my, yes. But I’m afraid Dance-with-the-Sun and some other Cheyenne have him now,” Retta responded.
“Dance-with-the-Sun is a hundred miles north of here,” the lieutenant reported.
“I don’t think so,” Retta countered.
“Li’l sis,” Mr. Barre hollered, “are you talkin’ to your horse again?”
She walked over to where she could see her father. “No, Papa, I’m talkin’ to some army men. Can they come in by the fire and have some coffee?”
Mr. Barre stood to his feet. “How many of them are there?”
Retta turned back to the lieutenant. “How many men do you have?”
The lieutenant jammed on his hat. “Just thirty.”
“They got thirty, Papa,” she yelled toward the campfire.
“In that case,” Mr. Barre said, looking over at Two Bears, “we’ll have to make more coffee.”
* * * * *
Retta awoke in an encampment that bustled with activity.
Soldiers.
Indians.
Her father and brothers.
“Mornin’, darlin’,” Mr. Barre called out. “How did you sleep?”
“I think it was the best night’s rest since we left Missouri.” Retta crawled off the quilts.
“Surprisin’ how peaceful it feels when surrounded by the U.S. Army. Big sis is over there, of course.” He pointed to a huddle of uniformed soldiers.
Retta held out the front of her buckskin dress and scraped off some dried white gravy with her thumbnail. “Lerryn’s up already?”
Mr. Barre moseyed over to Retta. “Eh, she was up before daylight. She put on that satin dress and curled her hair.”
“Her satin dress? Mama said she couldn’t wear that dress until we get to Oregon.” Retta licked at something sticky and sweet stuck between her fingers.
“Don’t know anything about that,” Mr. Barre declared. “But tell her to come help you cook breakfast. The lieutenant is eatin’ with us, and I don’t want Mama to have to cook.”
Retta tugged on her moccasins, smoothed down her buckskin dress, and slipped on her headband. She washed her hands in the basin and patted down her thick, wild hair with her wet hands. She strolled through the busy encampment, tying on her bone necklace as she approached the circle of men. They parted when she arrived.
“Oh, and this is my little sister,” Lerryn announced. “Your sister is an Indian, Miss Lerryn?” one young soldier called out.
“Oh, no.” Lerryn grinned. “That’s just a
costume. She doesn’t wear it all the time.”
“Sort of like Lerryn’s satin dress,” Retta sniped. “It’s just a costume. She doesn’t wear it all the time.”
“Don’t you have something to do?” Lerryn huffed. “Yes, and so do you,” Retta said. “We have to cook breakfast.”
“Oh, can’t you do that?” Lerryn paused. Then a smile replaced her frown. She stepped over and slipped her arm into her startled sister’s. “Now, boys,” Lerryn drawled, “my sis and I have some chores to take care of. You’ll just have to do something besides flirt with us.”
Retta could feel herself blush.
A young blond man with a corporal’s stripe tipped his hat. “You have an unforgettable smile, Miss Lerryn.”
“Oh, posh, Tyler, you’ll forget me as soon as you get to St. Louis. But don’t any of you forget my sis’s name.” She stepped back and bowed. “This is my sister, Retta Barre, and someday you’re going to read a book about her.”
The girls giggled all the way back to the wagon.
“Why did you tell them that?” Retta asked.
“It just dawned on me when we were starting to snipe at each other that I don’t have my heart in it anymore. I like it better when we get along.”
“Mama told me last night that she thinks the Lord’s changing our hearts,” Retta said. “Do you think that’s what’s happening?”
Lerryn’s satin dress swished as they strolled across the camp. “Maybe that’s it. All I know is that in the midst of visiting with the soldiers, I realized that I probably won’t see any of them again, and I hope to see you most every day of the rest of my life. Boys come and go, but sisters...” Lerryn paused and wrinkled her narrow nose.
Retta raised her dark brown eyebrows. “You’re stuck with forever?”
“Yes,” Lerryn giggled. They paused by the fire. “What do you need me to do first?”
Retta fingered the smooth green material on her sister’s sleeve. “Change this beautiful dress before you get it splattered with grease.”
Chapter Eight
When they finally broke camp, the soldiers crossed the river and turned west. Two Bears and the Barre covered wagon headed due west on the north side of the river. The wind picked up by 9:00 A.M., and by 10:00 the dust began to roll off the dry soil.
