by Dani Larsen
"We could sure use another driver that could take turns spelling us each for a time. We are heading to Prairie City first, through Sumpter. Then we will head west and make stops in John Day, Dayville, and Mitchell. After Mitchell, we will be picking up some more supplies and head back this way. We do just set up camp on the way there, if you don't mind roughing it. You could probably catch another wagon in Mitchell heading on down to the Willamette Valley. We pay one dollar a day, which is pretty good pay for these times. You would get paid after we drop off the supplies. Are you interested?"
"I sure am. When are you leaving?"
"As soon as we finish loading up these wagons we'll be on our way. You could make another fifty cents, if you want to help load. We could get out of here sooner with your help."
"Okay, mister, just tell me what to load."
"Name is Pat McNeil, my partner is Willy Jones. Just pick up those crates sitting there and hand them up here to me. Willy will bring out the supplies, but you can save me from having to jump down to pick them up. Just tie your horse to the back of the wagon and start working."
"Sure thing."
Jude started lifting the crates and handing them up to the wagon. This is just what I needed. Now I can make some money on my way to Salem, without wasting those days traveling.
They didn't get out of town until after ten that morning. Jude was glad he had a warm coat as it was a cold, crisp day, and the wind was blowing just enough to chill the bones. As it was late September, the weather could turn at any time. He was glad the skies were clear, because even a light sprinkling of snow would have turned into a nice little blizzard with that wind. After wrapping his winter scarf around his neck, he pulled his hat down as far as he could. Neither McNeil nor Jones tried to carry on a conversation, as the sound of the wind swirling around the covered wagon would have hampered any conversation. It was twenty nine miles from Baker City to Sumpter, so it would take them the rest of the day traveling at five to six miles an hour to reach that town. Jude rode for an hour and a half with McNeil, and then he drove the wagon for an hour and a half. Then he switched off and rode for an hour and a half with Jones, then drove that wagon for another hour and a half. Rather than stopping to eat, they ate jerky and chewed on hard tack as they rode, and washed it down with cold coffee that they carried in jugs. After they delivered the goods to the Sumpter General Store, they rode a few miles out of town and camped for the night, just before the gray skies turned to black.
They could barely see by the time they pulled the covered wagons off of the road and parked them. McNeil lit a lantern and hung it on the side of his wagon and asked Jude to tend to the horses. McNeil tossed him some blankets to throw over the mounts to keep them warm. Then Jude fed and tethered them in the grove of trees behind where they had made their campfire, to protect them from the still blowing wind. Camping in the shelter of the trees kept the cold wind at bay, and with the sun down the temperature was dropping. The night air was about thirty-five degrees, but the swirling wind lowered the temperature to around twenty-two. McNeil gathered fire wood and built a roaring fire. Jones heated up some beans to eat with the hard bread. He threw some coffee beans into a tin pot and brewed some coffee on a large rock next to the fire, to warm up their insides. They unrolled their bedrolls and slept close to the fire after they ate. Jude was glad the men weren't that friendly as he wasn't a big talker either. The last thing he wanted was to have to act like he was their friend. As far as he was concerned, they were just a means to an end. He didn't want them to look at him closely, and he didn't care to know more about them. Maybe they are hiding from something too, was his last thought before he finally fell asleep.
The second day, they continued west on the Sumpter Valley Road heading toward Prairie City. They left early because it was forty-four miles between Sumpter and Prairie City, which would take them about eight hours. They did two hour stints this time. Their plan was to spend the night outside of town, after they delivered their goods to the Post Office and store. Prairie City was where The Dalles Military Road crossed the Sumpter Valley Road and where they planned on camping near the crossroads. The Military Road ran from Fort Dalles on the Columbia River to the southeast where a traveler could take it all the way to Ontario, Oregon, and the Idaho border.
At the end of a very long day, they finally found a spot to camp outside Prairie City. The benches in the two wagons were hard, and after sitting on them all day Jude was more stiff and sore than he had ever been working a full day on the ranch, or sitting in a saddle. Of course, I never worked that hard on the ranch as I always gave the harder jobs to those other fools. He laughed to himself thinking about the ranch hands he had worked with on the Hempe Ranch. Riding in the saddle was easier than riding on the hard benches. But he was making money, instead of spending all of this traveling time going to and from Salem with no reward. He tightened the wool scarf around his neck, and pulled his jacket together buttoning it up, as it seemed even colder than it had been the night before. The grove of Poplar trees behind their camp still had some bright colored fall leaves, but the ground was covered in yellow and brown as it seemed winter was on its way early this year. The wind was whipping ferociously through the branches bringing down the dying leaves.
On the third day, they continued west on The Dalles Military Road toward Dayville. It was the same distance from Prairie City to Dayville, as it was from Sumpter to Prairie City. After the eight hour ride, Jude was exhausted. A light snow had fallen for about two hours, and he was wet and frozen. McNeil put some good kindling wood, that he had collected the night before, in one of the covered wagons, so he was able to start the fire, but he had trouble finding good wood to burn as everything was wet. He finally found some dry branches protected under a grove of pine trees down the road a piece. Jude pulled his blanket up over his head and got as close to the fire as he could.
It was a little warmer on the last day with the wagons. The sun was shining, whereas it had been hidden in gray clouds ever since they had started on their journey. It would take seven hours to drive the thirty miles west to Mitchell. They continued on The Dalles Military Road and spent the night outside Mitchell. Their load had lightened each day, after each delivery. They would deliver their final load in the morning and load up on supplies that were available only in Mitchell, to take back to their customers on the return route. Jude would leave the two men in Mitchell, after he helped them load and received his pay.
McNeil had collected money at each stop, and Jude thought seriously about whacking the two guys in their sleep and taking off with the bag of money he knew was hidden in one of the wagons. The one thing that stopped him was realizing that people had seen him in every town along the way, and if these two guys were murdered he would be the prime suspect. When he came back this way they would be looking for him. Maybe, he thought, I will meet them coming this way again when I come back from Salem. He had trouble resisting the temptation, and he tried to occupy his mind with thoughts of the gold in those saddle bags, to keep his mind from thinking about the leather bag filled with coins inside the first wagon.
They unloaded the wares they had brought with them, and then reloaded the wagon first thing in the morning. McNeil gave Jude his pay, before heading to the bank to make a deposit. This was the last day for Jude working with these guys. He had four dollars coming for driving and fifty cents for each delivery that he had helped unload and load. Seven dollars wasn't bad pay, but he was kicking himself for not getting that bag of money while he had the chance.
The sky looked ominous as Jude left for Prineville. It was the fifth day of his trip. A month from now, these roads would probably be impassable and covered with snow. He rode southwest on The Dalles Military Road and took the smaller and tougher Mitchell to Prineville road over the Ochoco Mountains toward Prineville. He rode Riley at a trot for as long as he could over the forty-seven miles to his destination. The motion helped keep them both warm in the colder mountain air, although the wind had died
down. He wanted to get to Prineville before dark. The trip over the mountains was eerie as he could hear the howling of either wolves or coyotes off in the distance, and his horse was becoming more agitated with each howl. It started raining as he reached the top of the path and headed down the mountain.
He had an oilskin duster in his saddle bags, and he pulled it out when the rain got worse. It felt like buckets of water were being thrown in his face, as it was a huge downpour. The skies got so dark that he could hardly see, thunder was booming loudly overhead, and lightening was striking all around him. Jude didn't know whether to take shelter or to keep going. The last thing he wanted was to spend the night on the mountains with hungry wolves. Even though his horse was scared, he was moving at as fast a pace as he could go, as he picked his way through the rocky trail. The lightening scared Jude as he didn't know where it would strike next, and the roaring thunder terrified his horse. The mournful howling seemed to get closer, but he couldn't tell where it was coming from. He decided to just keep going, as he was too far into the mountains to turn back. The only place to hide was under a tree, and he had seen too many trees get hit by lightning to take that chance.
It was a nine day trip to Salem from Baker City, and this was his fifth day on the road so he knew he was half way there. The sorrowful howling seemed to be right in front of him at first, and then he thought it was behind him. It was so dark with the rain that he wasn't even sure he was heading in the right direction.
An ear splitting clap of thunder boomed overhead, and Riley reared up on his hind legs. Jude quickly threw his arms around the horse's neck; trying to hold on, as a flash of light so bright it illuminated the whole sky struck a tree in front of him. The tree split with a sound almost as loud as the thunder, and Riley came down with a jolt and took off running as fast as he could. Jude held on for dear life as his heart was pounding wildly in his chest. Jude had dropped the reins in his fright, and they were flying loose in the wind. Holding onto Riley's mane with his right hand he reached for the left rein, finally catching it, and then he grabbed for the right one as he held the mane with his left hand. Finally, he had them both and got control of his senses and the horse. His fear was that his horse would buck him off, and he would be left alone in the middle of the mountains. He kept patting Riley; trying to soothe him, and kept his legs straddled tightly around the horse in case he panicked anymore. The horse began to slow down, and Jude heard what he thought were wolves chasing him, and then he thought the footsteps that he heard were maybe the sound of the rain hitting the rocks behind him.
It was a long stressful ride across the mountains, but finally the town loomed in the distance and the rain abated a little. There was very little light, and that was quickly disappearing over the mountains. He gave Riley his spurs, and they galloped into the town of Prineville and straight to the hotel on Main Street, as nothing sounded better than a night's sleep in a real bed after the drudgery of the last five days. He put his horse in the livery stable, checked into the hotel, and then went to the saloon down the street for something to eat. A straight shot of whiskey warmed his body and calmed his nerves after the long day. He ate quickly, paid for his meal, and went straight back to the hotel and a real bed where he slept like a log.
When he woke the next day he seriously thought about staying another night, but after a hearty breakfast in the hotel restaurant he decided to continue his journey and head for Sisters, Oregon. The small town was thirty seven miles west on the Santiam Wagon Road. The sun had come out and mud puddles were beginning to evaporate as he led his horse out of town. The weather was much better and the sun shone most of the day. He passed a group of military wagons heading west, and he thought about joining up with them but they were traveling at a much slower pace than he wanted to go, so he quickly passed them and galloped ahead of them for about a mile. Seven hours later he arrived in Sisters, and when the sign out in front of the hotel said he could get a room and a meal for seventy-five cents, he decided to stay instead of camp for the night. He had saved up close to fifty dollars when he left the Hempe Ranch, so he was still doing okay. After another good night's sleep and breakfast, he set off down the road toward Marion Forks.
This road was also called the Willamette Valley and Cascade Mountain Military Road. It was a little over forty one miles to Marion Forks from Sisters and quite a little trek through the Cascades, with Mount Washington to the south, and Mount Jefferson and Three Fingered Jack to the north. It would take him through those mountains on the Santiam Pass. He hoped the weather would stay sunny, but as he got high up into the pass a light snow was falling. The air was cold and crisp, and his breath felt like hot steam coming from his mouth. He put on the duster and pulled his kerchief up over his face. His hands were freezing, so he pulled the sleeves of his warm jacket down as far as he could over his hands. It snowed for about two hours, and he could tell that Riley's hooves were slipping in the damp snow, making their journey through the mountains a lot slower than he had planned. The sun came out after it stopped snowing, but it was still so cold that the snow was freezing on the hard ground. He was happy that the wind was calm and that the snow had stopped. It took him close to nine hours to get to Marion Forks, where he checked into another hotel as he was too cold to spend the night outside.
Jude was getting tired and wondered if this journey was going to be worth the time and effort he was putting into it. What if none of those guys were still at the prison? Could I get a guard to give me a forwarding address?
On the eighth day, he continued down the road toward Mill City. He knew this was going to be a long day as it was forty five miles between the two towns, but he was riding in the valley where even if the weather turned bad he didn't have to climb mountains. It was still cold, but the sky was blue, and he could only see clouds off in the distance. Riley was able to keep a much faster pace on the road, and the bad weather stayed away. He was relieved when he checked into a hotel and realized that he would reach his destination on the next day.
Looking at the old ripped map he carried, he saw that he needed to go northwest on the Santiam River Road about twenty six miles to arrive in Salem. He left Mill City at nine o'clock in the morning and got to the prison around two-thirty in the afternoon. He was relieved to finally be there, and he hoped that he could find at least one of the men he was looking for.
He thought he'd better stick with his story of being a writer to the guards, as he wanted to keep his identity a secret at least from the guard. When he checked into the visitor's center he wrote down a different name. He decided his best bet was to try to talk to the two younger gang members.
"Howdy, mister, my name is Jude Miller. I am a writer, and I was hoping to be able to talk to a couple of your prisoners and get some information about a story I'm writing. Is that possible?"
"I don't see why not. Who is it you want to talk to?"
"Sam McLoughlin and Billy Hansen."
"Let me look them up."
The big man went to a cardboard box and looked through some cards that were lined up in there, before coming back to the desk where Jude was sitting.
"Billy Hansen was paroled a couple months ago, but Sam McLoughlin is still here for a little while. Sign your name here by where I wrote his name, and then go into that big room next door and sit down, and I'll see if he wants to see you."
"Thank you, sir."
Jude smiled and entered the large room that was filled with wooden tables and benches. A few minutes later a door opened at the end of the room, and a tall clean shaven man, about forty-five years of age, entered the room and came over and sat across from him.
"Sam McLoughlin?"
"Who's asking?"
"I gave the name Jude Miller, but I really go by Jude Burden now. I just found out my father was Jack Bane." Jude looked carefully to see the man's reaction.
"Well, I'll be damned. Are you D'Alene's boy?"
"Yeah, that is me."
"Son of a gun! I wasn't sure she would have
lived through that beating he gave her, much less her kid. Bane was really rough on her that day. Glad to meet you, Son."
"My ma hated him so much that she wouldn't tell me anything about him. I had to hit her some to get her to tell me."
"Like father like son it sounds like. Why are you here?"
"I heard that he had a saddle which had a secret hiding place. Do you know anything about that?"
"Yes, I do. He had that saddle made special, always keeping anything he treasured there. We asked him who made it for him, but he wouldn't tell us. I think that saddle was worth a lot of money. It had his initials embroidered on it in silver."
"What happened to the gold that you guys took from the Chinamen?"
"I like a man who gets right to the point. Bane had it all. We never did get our share. He was going to take it somewhere and cash it in, but then that all happened on Lookout Mountain, and he was dead, and we got put in jail. Didn't the sheriff find it?"
"Nope, I just found the old sheriff. That is how I got your name. He is nothing but a drunk in Baker City now. He gave the saddle to that woman who shot my pa, and he didn't know what happened to the gold."
"So you are looking for the gold?"
"Yes, I am. I know where the woman lives, but she knows me. And there's a Pinkerton man chasing me for something else, so I'm looking for someone to help me get that saddle back."
"You are in luck. I'm due to get out of this place in March. I'd be happy to help you get that back. After all, part of that gold belongs to me."
"If you help me get it, we can share it fifty-fifty."
"That sounds good to me! You're lucky I'm still here. I was supposed to get out when Billy did, but I got into a scuffle with one of the guards, and they delayed my release."
"Good. Maybe I should hang around here and wait for you to get out. I was going to head back to Baker City, and get some kind of a job to tide me over, but it was a real rough ride getting here with the weather and all. I can stay in town through the winter. By the time you get out, winter will be just about over, and we can ride back together. Another thing we might want to look at is some supply wagons that come from Baker City to Mitchell. I worked for them on the way over here, and they carry a bag of cash with them all the way to Mitchell. A good time to catch them by surprise would be between Dayville and Mitchell. What do you think?"
