by Val Wood
There then followed a long discourse from the passengers on where the other forts had been situated and the battles that had taken place, and Georgiana felt her eyes closing, though sleep was almost impossible as the coach bumped and rattled towards Duquesne.
‘All change at Duquesne.’ They were awakened abruptly by the driver opening the coach door and the other passengers climbing over their feet to get out.
They blinked and looked around them. They were in mountain country. The air smelt different, of wood fires and pine needles, and though there was a settlement, it was small with the buildings mostly built of wood.
‘Can you face another journey, Kitty?’ Georgiana said wearily as they stood amongst piles of timber and merchandise at the roadside. ‘We could stay here today and travel on tomorrow.’
Kitty looked around her at the stores and taverns and the church. ‘Do you think there will be an hotel, miss? Doesn’t look to me as if there will be.’
‘There’ll be some accommodation, I expect,’ Georgiana said. ‘Perhaps only plain and simple, but yes, let’s try. We need some sleep.’
She asked the driver if he knew of an hotel or accommodation where they could stay. ‘There are hostelries, ma’am,’ he said, ‘but I only know Mrs Smith’s guest house. Waggon drivers stay there,’ he said. ‘It’s clean and comfortable but it’ll probably be full.’
And it was. ‘Mighty sorry,’ Mrs Smith said. ‘Everybody’s busy right now. Try Bertram’s beer parlour. They take visitors.’
But they decided against that establishment when they saw the number of men gathered around the door and no women. ‘Perhaps we could manage a short drive.’ Georgiana studied the map that John Charlesworth had given her. ‘It doesn’t look too far from here.’ Charlesworth had marked a cross where the settlement was, the settlement with no name.
Kitty put her hand above her eyes and stared along the road towards the foothills of the mountains. ‘The road looks all right,’ she said. ‘A bit bumpy but probably no worse than the one we have just driven on. Let’s go, miss, if we can find a trap for hire.’
They enquired again and were sent to a wheelwright’s workshop. ‘A trap?’ he said. ‘Ain’t much call for them round here. Got a waggon or a cart if that would do?’
‘All right. Can I have a look at them?’ Georgiana asked.
‘You driven a waggon afore?’ He got up from his work bench and ambled towards the yard at the back of the building with Georgiana and Kitty following behind.
‘No, I haven’t,’ she confessed. ‘Only a trap.’
He gave a grin. ‘And what’ll you do, little lady, if a wheel comes off?’
‘Well, I would hope,’ she said severely, ‘if I am hiring it from you that you will make sure it is fit for the road.’
‘Depends where you’m going,’ he said, walking towards a massive waggon covered with a thick canvas which would take a team of horses to pull it. ‘This un’d take you to Californy if you wanted to go. But I can’t guarantee it won’t fall into a mud hole.’
‘I don’t,’ she said sharply. ‘No more than half a day’s journey. We expect to be at our destination before nightfall.’
He stood with his chin in his hands for a moment whilst he meditated. Then he muttered, ‘Best take old Henry then. She’ll get you where you want to go.’
He put blackened fingers between his teeth and gave a shrill whistle which pierced their ears. A horse whinnied, the sound of hooves clattered across the yard and a shaggy grey mare trotted towards them.
‘Why is she called Henry if she’s a she?’ Kitty asked.
The wheelwright looked at her from under thick eyebrows. ‘Henrietta!’ he said, as if she should have known. ‘Called after my ma. It was her favourite horse. Followed her everywhere.’
‘So – what will she pull? A waggonette or—?’ Georgiana wished he would hurry up; the day was getting on, she was tired and hungry and wanted to be on her way.
‘Best take this.’ He pointed to a dilapidated dog cart with two large wheels. ‘If you ain’t got much luggage and there’s just the two of you.’
‘Is that the best you have?’ Georgiana was dismayed.
‘Yip.’ He spat on the ground and Kitty jumped back. ‘’Cept the waggon and I guess that’s too big just for two ladies.’
‘All right.’ Georgiana sighed. ‘We’ll take it and I assume the horse is reliable?’
He nodded. ‘She’ll get you where you want to be and find her way home if you get lost.’
‘We won’t get lost,’ she said abruptly. ‘We have a map!’
He laughed and whistled another stream of spittle through his teeth. This time they both jumped back. ‘Well, I hope it’s a good un.’ He grinned. ‘Cos some of these tracks have a habit of movin’! Hog-drovers’ roads, some of ’em, or bullock tracks. They don’t take no notice of maps.’
He hitched up Henry to the cart and put in a sack of hay and another of oats. ‘Give her this,’ he said. ‘She’ll tell you when she wants it, else she’ll go off and graze.’
Georgiana cast a glance at Kitty and hid a smile. The man was plainly mad. ‘How much do I owe you?’ she asked.
‘Well, I don’t rightly know.’ He rubbed his chin. ‘Best pay me when you come back.’
‘You’re very trusting,’ she said lightly. ‘I might run off with Henry.’
‘Reckon not,’ he said slowly. ‘She’ll give you a nip in the backside if you take her where she don’t want to go.’
They drove towards a store and bought bread and fruit and a large slice of cheese, and then set off towards the mountain road. Henry stepped out smartly and Georgiana started to relax. It was good to be out and she enjoyed the rush of air as they bowled along.
They passed several small settlements in the next two hours where fields were planted with crops, and men, women and children were working on the land. Houses, workshops and warehousing had been built as immigrants, seeking another homeland away from the cities of New England and Europe, followed the canals, tracks and national road system which ran between east and west, found a place they could settle, unhitched their waggons and built their homes.
‘Why Mr Charlesworth thought this would be difficult, I can’t imagine,’ Georgiana remarked. ‘The road is good so far, and although I’m tired, it isn’t so difficult.’
Kitty nodded in agreement. ‘It’s getting dark though, Miss Gregory. I hope it’s not much further.’
Georgiana pulled on the reins to halt. ‘The mountains are blocking out the light.’ She consulted the map. ‘It looks to me as if the road veers left, then right. Hmm. He’s drawn some squiggles here and I’m not sure what they mean.’
Kitty looked over her shoulder. ‘Is it water?’ she asked. ‘Perhaps it’s a stream.’
‘Perhaps so.’ Georgiana gathered up the reins, shook them and clicked her tongue. Henry lifted her head from where she had been grazing on the grass verge and half turned towards them. ‘Come on then, Henry,’ she said. ‘Let’s go.’
Henry bent her head and continued to graze. Georgiana shook the reins again. ‘Come on,’ she called. ‘You can have a feed when we get there.’
The mare lifted her head again and shook it, giving a little whinny in response, and slowly set off once more. ‘Maybe she’s hungry,’ Kitty said. ‘I know I am.’
‘Tear off a piece of bread,’ Georgiana suggested. ‘And a piece for me. I don’t want to stop again – the darkness seems to be falling fast.’
Coming from the flatland of east Yorkshire, she was used to the slow onset of dusk, when the wide skies of that county changed from blue or grey and became tinged with red and yellow, orange or purple, depending on the season, as the sun gradually set and disappeared below the low horizon.
Here the golden sun was only half visible above the mountain tops and she guessed that in no more than half an hour it would be gone, leaving them in darkness.
‘We haven’t got a lantern!’ she said suddenly. ‘Why didn’t I think of b
ringing one?’
‘Oh, miss!’ Kitty exclaimed. ‘I should have thought of it. Why didn’t I?’
‘We were not to know that we would be travelling in the dark. I should have stopped in Duquesne and enquired further about accommodation. How very foolish of me.’
And so they continued for another quarter of an hour, munching on the bread and blaming themselves for not preparing for the journey better. Finally, Kitty said, ‘It’s Mr Charlesworth’s fault, Miss Gregory. He should have said how long a journey it would be, and how many miles. If we’d known, then we wouldn’t have set off when we did but would have stopped overnight. It seems to me, beggin’ his pardon for I know he’s a gentleman, miss, but I don’t think he’s very good at drawing maps.’
‘You’re right. I quite agree and I wonder if he has actually travelled this route.’ Georgiana narrowed her eyes as she saw that the road branched off left. ‘Here it is. At least – I think this is it. It’s very narrow, not much more than a track! Do you think this is it, Kitty?’
‘Doesn’t seem to go anywhere, miss, but it might be. Oh!’ she said as Henry veered to the left. ‘Henry thinks it is. Perhaps she knows the way.’
‘It seems she does.’ Georgiana peered down the track. ‘There have been vehicles along here anyway. Look, those are wheel marks.’
Henry trotted briskly on down the track, which was lined on either side with trees, further blotting out the little remaining light.
‘And there’s a track on the right, miss. Just there, by that old hut.’
Henry, without any signal from the rein, turned down the right-hand track and trotted on. They came upon a clearing where the track petered out and the mare came to a full stop.
‘It’s the wrong road!’ Georgiana could have wept. ‘Now what shall we do?’
Kitty shivered. ‘We’ll have to stay here till morning, miss. We can’t drive in ’dark.’
Henry whinnied and pawed the ground, half turning her head towards them.
‘We promised her some food when we arrived,’ Kitty said. ‘She must think we’ve got there. I’ll give her some hay, shall I?’
Georgiana nodded, too dispirited to speak. She sat with her shoulders drooping and the reins held loosely in her hands as Kitty jumped down from the cart and gathered up the sack of hay.
‘Should I unhitch her, Miss Gregory, or do you think she’ll run away?’
‘She won’t run away if we show her the hay.’ Georgiana climbed wearily down. ‘But keep hold of the reins just in case. We don’t want her to go back home and leave us stranded.’
They unhitched the mare from the cart and scattered some of the hay on the ground, but once she was free from the shafts Henry started to move off with Georgiana and Kitty in tow.
‘Whoa! Whoa! Come back.’ Vainly they held on, the reins cutting into their hands, but Henry was determined to be off, through the clearing, through some sparse trees and onto a downward path.
‘I can’t see where we’re going!’ Kitty shrieked. ‘It’s pitch black.’
‘Hold on,’ Georgiana shouted. ‘Don’t let go. We might never get her back.’
Henry came to a dead stop and bent her head. Kitty almost fell over as the momentum ceased. ‘There’s water, miss! It’s a stream. I can hear it gurgling. She’s onny come for a drink. Ooh,’ she whined. ‘It’s boggy. My boots are wet!’
When the mare had finished drinking, she shook her head and about turned and set off back to the cart and the mound of hay, where she started to graze. Georgiana fastened the reins to one of the shafts where the horse had freedom of movement but couldn’t escape without taking the dog cart with her.
‘That hut back there,’ she said. ‘I think it might be a cabin which the waggon drivers use for shelter. Let’s take a look and maybe we can spend the night in there. Otherwise we’ll have to sleep in the dog cart and it will be cold and very uncomfortable.’
‘And we can’t sleep on the grass,’ Kitty declared. ‘Cos it’s wet and stony and there might be wild animals,’ she added. ‘Miss Gregory,’ she murmured. ‘Are you scared? I am. I don’t like being in ’dark.’
‘I don’t mind it if I know there’s a candle or a lamp within reach. But I don’t like it when I can’t see my hand in front of me as now.’
But as they spoke, their voices having involuntarily dropped to whispers, a moon appeared from behind the mountains, lighting up their immediate surroundings.
‘Oh hurrah!’ Georgiana cheered. ‘Thank goodness.’ She gazed up into the night sky. ‘It’s clear, not much cloud, though it’s cold. We shall be all right, Kitty. Let’s take the blanket and the food with us so we don’t have to come back again.’
They both jumped as an eerie shriek came from beyond the belt of trees. The mare lifted her head as if listening, but then dropped it and continued grazing.
‘It’s all right!’ Georgiana tried not to panic. ‘It’s just a bird or an animal. Come on,’ she urged, ‘quickly,’ and with a rush they gathered up their belongings, bags and blanket and stumbled out of the clearing and up the path towards the cabin.
It was staunchly built from logs with a thick wooden bolt drawn across the door, so they knew at least that there was no-one inside. They heaved at the bolt and cautiously opened the door. ‘Might there be rats, do you think?’ Kitty shuddered. ‘I hate rats! There used to be rats where we lived in Hull. Dirty nasty creatures.’
‘I shouldn’t think so.’ Georgiana blinked, accustoming her eyes to the blackness of the interior. ‘I think they prefer to live in holes outside.’
‘What about snakes?’ Kitty peered into the hut. ‘Might there be snakes?’
Georgiana took a deep breath. There was every possibility that there might be snakes, she thought. ‘See if there’s a piece of brushwood lying around,’ she said. ‘And we can waft it around to clear anything out.’ She sounded braver than she was. I’ve always been considered sensible, she thought. I must behave as if I really am.
They found a fallen branch with dead leaves clinging to it and as Kitty held the door open to let in the moonlight, Georgiana swept around the hut, along the walls and corners, along the two rows of wooden double bunks and around the floor.
‘No snakes!’ she announced. ‘And look what’s here!’ On a shelf was a tinderbox complete with flint and steel, and a candle beside it. ‘If I can get a spark we can have a light for a little while, but we mustn’t use all the candle in case someone else needs it after us.’
She managed to strike a spark and lit the candle wick which lit up the hut to show it in all its bareness. But they didn’t mind – they could close the door and bolt it from the inside and know that they could sleep safely.
Except that they didn’t sleep. The bunks were hard and they were cold as they had only one blanket between them. As Kitty had an extra shawl, she insisted that Georgiana should have it. They heard too all kinds of strange noises, howling and shrieking and bumps against the walls of the cabin.
‘Are there bears, do you think, Miss Gregory?’ Kitty whispered through the darkness. ‘If there’s one outside how will we get out? And will it attack Henry?’
‘I don’t know,’ she whispered back. ‘There might be. But it will be gone by daylight,’ she assured Kitty. ‘Whatever is out there will go off to look for food.’
At dawn a chink of light appeared through a gap in the wall and achingly they roused themselves and stretched. ‘It must be very early,’ Georgiana said. ‘But we’ll start moving. There’s no sense in staying around here as we’re awake.’
‘I hope the bears have gone,’ Kitty said and put her ear to the door. ‘Can’t hear anything.’
Cautiously they slid back the bolt and opened the door a crack. A great draught of clear air entered the cabin and they saw sparkling dew on the grass.
Kitty crept outside and looked up and down the track. ‘We’re all right, Miss Gregory,’ she said. ‘There are no bears. We can go and get Henry.’
Georgiana leaned against the
door frame and looked up into the blue sky and at the mountain tops, which were shrouded with silver mist. A large bird, maybe an eagle, she thought, hovered above them and she could hear the rushing of the stream.
Her spirits soared and she took a deep breath of mountain air. It’s strange, she reflected. Just a few months ago I would never have dreamed that I would spend a cold night in a wooden hut on a mountainside with no conveniences, and still be happy.
They gathered together their belongings, bolted the cabin door and walked on the wet grass towards the clearing, but they stopped simultaneously as they reached it. The dog cart was there as they had left it, but not Henry.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘Oh, miss!’ Kitty wailed. ‘She can’t surely have run away home? Whatever will we do?’
What did I just think about being happy? Georgiana leaned against the dog cart. So what do we do? ‘Perhaps she’s by the stream,’ she said, none too hopefully. ‘We’ll take a look.’
The daylight showed that the stream was wide and the waters rushed headlong over stones and boulders. Higher upstream a small waterfall gushed and splashed over a rocky outcrop, the source of the sound reaching the cabin. A wide grassy track led towards it.
‘Look, Miss Gregory! There she is!’ Kitty spotted the horse splashing in the middle of the stream with her reins trailing. ‘Come on, Henry,’ she called. ‘Come on.’
But the mare whinnied, and turning the other way she retreated further downstream.
‘She might trip on the stones and break a leg,’ Georgiana said anxiously. ‘I’ll fetch the hay bag,’ and she rushed back to get it from the dog cart.
‘Here Henry, come for breakfast.’ She scrambled amongst the rocks, her skirts trailing in the water, and held out a handful of hay in the mare’s direction. Henry whinnied, but stopped her cavorting and stood looking at Georgiana. ‘Come on,’ she said soothingly. ‘Come on!’
The horse moved slowly towards her. ‘Good girl,’ she said softly. ‘Good girl. That’s it. Come on.’ Georgiana edged backwards to bring Henry closer to the bank of the stream. ‘Stay still, Kitty!’ From the corner of her eye she saw Kitty moving towards her. ‘Don’t disturb her.’
