by Val Wood
Dekan and Horse greeted them and Little Bear took Georgiana and Jewel to her cabin for refreshment before the ceremony began. ‘We miss Lake very much,’ she said huskily. ‘But we must be happy for him that he has returned to his spiritual home.’
Jewel was taken to play with the children and Georgiana was led back into the longhouse, where she was seated on a bench draped with a red blanket. Wilhelm sat next to her and she felt the comfort of his hand in hers.
Dekan rose to his feet and the others in the tribe followed suit. Slowly, in single file they shuffled around the room in a death march, chanting in low sepulchral voices. Then they stopped and Dekan addressed them.
‘We have come today to honour our brother who has gone to join the spirit of his fathers. Though he had white man’s blood he had the true soul of an Iroquois. He was felled as a tall tree full of leaf is cut down, by his enemy who dared to call us savages.
‘Our brother was descended from our prophet Handsome Lake, who taught us that we must love one another and make peace not enemies, and that beyond the grave we will find happiness or punishment for the life we have lived on this earth.’
He paused, and glancing at the senior tribesmen, went on. ‘In ancient times, in our old way of life, we believed that our spirit families would protect us from harm.’ Some of the elderly men nodded their heads sagely and grunted or thumped the floor with their sticks. ‘Our brother’s death has been avenged and he is now resting with his ancestors. But times are changing,’ Dekan went on firmly. ‘And we must ready ourselves against those forces who wish to remove us from our rightful land, or else face death and destruction of our race. Our brother warned us of this and told us that we must be prepared.’
They all rose to their feet once more and marched, chanting, around the room and then filed outside to where a feast was awaiting them.
Dekan came to speak to Georgiana. He had a piece of paper in his hand which he handed to her. ‘The man who killed our brother had this in his possession when we found him. It is yours, I think.’
Georgiana looked at it. It was the receipt for the mining claim which Charlesworth had given to Lake in exchange for the pelts. She gave a deep sigh. ‘Not mine,’ she said softly. ‘Lake intended it for Wilhelm.’
Georgiana had felt quietly comforted by the ceremony and when discussing this with Wilhelm later, he said that he had also. ‘I felt a great loss when I heard of his death,’ he said. ‘For I admired Lake and the way he conducted himself. Though he was brought up by the Iroquois, he was caught between two worlds, that of the Indians and the whites. He was a brave man.’
‘What did Dekan mean about the warning that Lake had given them?’
‘The Indians are resisting the loss of land which is being taken from them for the settlers and the railroads. The treaties are being broken. The trappers had heard of unrest in various tribes. Lake was warning the Iroquois that war will come.’
She became thoughtful and sad that the peaceable people she knew, Dekan, Horse and Little Bear, should be involved in conflict. ‘You saved Lake’s life once, didn’t you?’ she asked. ‘What did you do?’
His eyes clouded. ‘The trapper who killed Lake was his half-brother, Odie. Son of the Frenchman and a saloon woman. They met when they were boys and were sworn enemies from the start. Odie always referred to Lake as a half-breed. I came across them quite by chance as I was travelling towards Philadelphia. Odie had followed Lake and jumped him, intent on stealing his horse and his pelts. He had his knife to Lake’s throat when I happened to come along. I drew my gun and told him I would shoot him if he didn’t drop it.
‘Lake repaid me by showing me the valley and the creek.’ He gave a worried sigh. ‘I hope I have not betrayed his trust in me.’
‘In what way could you have done that?’ she asked.
‘The land belonged long ago to the Indians. When they moved out the valley was silent and peaceful, given back to nature. We have changed it by opening it up and by turning the earth inside out looking for gold.’ He seemed downcast, she thought.
‘But you have had control over it,’ she encouraged him. ‘You are making it into a good settlement where people want to be, just as the Indians once did. But it is time for change and I think that Lake knew that.’ Georgiana touched his arm and gently reassured him. ‘That is why he showed it to you. That is why he left you Charlesworth’s claim. He knew it would be in safe hands.’
Kitty was delighted to see her, though sorry she had had a sad homecoming. She was pregnant again and had taken on help in her bakery shop. Ted was engaged in salvaging the equipment that had been left behind by the miners, and had now given up searching for gold. ‘We’ve enough,’ he said. ‘More than I ever dreamed of. We’re going into business, Kitty and me. We’re going to build an hotel up on Yeller Creek. When the railroad comes, folks will want somewhere to stay.’
Georgiana told him about Edward Newmarch and his trek, from the swamps of Mississippi to California. Ted was astonished. ‘I didn’t think he had it in him,’ he said. ‘I thought he was just a priggish English sop.’
‘He might once have been,’ she agreed. ‘But how we all have changed.’ She gave a little smile. ‘Before I left, he said to tell you that you could keep his suit of clothes!’
He nodded at the joke, but didn’t smile. ‘I’m sorry I misjudged him,’ he said. ‘Really sorry.’
‘You didn’t,’ she replied. ‘He became a different man from the one you knew.’
Winter was almost upon them, but Georgiana wanted to make her own lone journey into the mountains to say a final goodbye to Lake. She left Jewel with Kitty and took Hetty out of the stable, mounted her and rode out of the settlement, which had, as Wilhelm had told her, grown considerably since she had left. It had an air of cheerful activity as people went about their business, and there was a buzz of children’s voices coming from the schoolroom.
She crossed the bridge and cantered towards the foothills and up the mountain track. The air felt crisp and sharp as if there would soon be snow. The sky was blue, with soft white clouds floating above the mountain tops. Hetty snickered and put up her ears. ‘Yes, Hetty,’ Georgiana murmured. ‘It’s a long time since you and I had such a ride.’ She stroked the horse’s neck. ‘And there have been many changes since we were last here.’
When she reached the ridge she turned to look back as she always did. Smoke was curling from the chimneys of the cabins, sawing and hammering reverberated along the valley as more buildings were being put up. The valley had a permanent, established look to it, she thought. As if the cabins and buildings were putting down roots and settling themselves comfortably into the ground.
She turned again and rode into the forest. She had asked Dekan if he would show her where Lake had died, but he had shaken his head and told her it was a faraway place. ‘But you will find his spirit in the forests and the mountains, or by the rivers and streams,’ he had said. ‘He will always be there if you look for him.’
‘I know that to be true,’ she murmured now. ‘For that is what Lake himself said. I am at one with the elements of nature, the solitude and the silence.’ She drew into a space between a group of trees and listened. She could almost hear his low voice, his breathing and his presence. Something scuttled nearby and she turned her head. The tops of the trees rustled as a cool breeze blew and she thought she could hear the distant howl of a wolf.
‘I know you are here,’ she said softly. ‘And you told me that whilst you were on this earth, you would always love me.’ Her breath caught in her throat. ‘But you have left me alone and I miss you so much.’ She started to sob and, covering her face with her hand, she allowed the mare to find her own way back down to Dreumel’s Creek.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Wilhelm went on a final journey to Philadelphia before winter. He brought Georgiana a letter from Larkin, though written by Dolly, to tell her that Edward had died a peaceful death. ‘He sent his last words of love to his little girl,’ they wr
ote. ‘And asked that we tell you he trusts her life to you.’
Georgiana folded up the letter, swallowed a lump in her throat, heaved a sigh and considered that she was now totally and morally responsible for Jewel’s upbringing. She called the child to her and, holding her in her arms, told her quietly and gently of her father’s death and that she would be looking after her from now on.
As time passed, Jewel often cried and pensively asked about her papa and questioned why he had to die. Sometimes at bedtime as Georgiana tucked her up, she would cling to her and ask when she would be going home. Georgiana decided one night that in order to distract her she would tell her of her father’s life before he went to live in California.
‘Before me, do you mean, Aunt Gianna?’ she asked, and her mouth trembled. She sat up in bed. ‘And before Larkin and Jed and Dolly!’
‘Yes,’ Georgiana replied, and realized how Edward had sheltered his daughter, and that apart from her little friend Lorenzo and his mother, these were the only people that Jewel knew. So she told her of her father’s brother Martin, and of her grandmother, then reluctantly told her of May, Edward’s wife.
‘So, she’s my mama!’ Jewel said eagerly. ‘May we go and see her?’
‘She isn’t your mama,’ Georgiana explained. ‘Your mama was a lovely Chinese lady, called Tsui. May is an English lady who lives in another country.’
Jewel seemed confused. ‘Does my grandmother live in another country?’
‘She does. She lives in England.’ Gently she pulled the covers over her and tucked her in again. ‘I’ll tell you more another day. Now, time for sleep.’
Over the winter, Jewel asked many questions about her uncle and if he had any children, and about May, and demanded why she lived in a different place from her papa, and Georgiana answered as best she could. The child often followed Wilhelm about, tugging on his sleeve or holding his hand as if she needed the reassurance of a male presence, used as she had been to her father, Jed and Larkin. Wilhelm responded warmly to the little girl, building her a toboggan and playing with her in the snow. Then Jewel asked Kitty if she was Caitlin’s mama and looked curiously at Ted when he said that he was Caitlin’s da.
‘Poor little mite,’ Kitty said. ‘She’s all mixed up. Perhaps you should take her to England to see her gran and her uncle! I know I would take Caitlin home to see my ma if she was alive.’
Georgiana was thoughtful. The idea had crossed her mind more than once, not only for Jewel’s sake, but her own. She was restless, couldn’t concentrate on any project and whenever she looked up into the mountains, she imagined she could see the image of Lake riding down the track towards her.
Wilhelm came into her log house for supper one night as he often did. It was cosy and warm, unlike her old cabin, and they sat together after Jewel was put to bed, watching the flames dancing in the stove.
‘There’s a shadow enveloping me, Wilhelm,’ she confided, knowing that he would understand, having been through this sorrow himself. ‘Wherever I go, wherever I look, Lake is there, and—’ She swallowed hard as emotion threatened to overwhelm her. ‘I don’t ever want to forget him.’
She wiped away a tear which had escaped onto her cheek. ‘But – I am in limbo. He’s holding me fast. Whilst I am here within the sight of his mountains and forests, I cannot proceed with my life.’ She lifted a melancholy face to him. ‘Am I being disloyal? Am I forgetting our love so quickly?’
‘No,’ he said softly. ‘You are not being disloyal, but you are still young.’ He smiled as she shook her head and denied that she was. ‘Yes, you are. You still have youth and vigour running through your veins.’
‘Dearest Wilhelm.’ She put her hand into his. ‘Whatever would I do without you? You are so wise.’
‘No.’ His voice cracked as he spoke. ‘I am not wise at all. I am the most foolish man in the world.’
She gave a tearful laugh. ‘Why do you say that?’
He wiped his eye as if he had something in it. ‘Because I know that I am.’
‘I think I might go to England in the spring,’ she said suddenly, and didn’t notice his sharp intake of breath. ‘Jewel should meet her father’s family and they should meet her. Her grandmother might want to bring her up.’
‘But you will come back to Dreumel’s Creek?’ he asked quietly. ‘Your home is here, isn’t it?’
‘I don’t know.’ Her voice was sad. ‘If it is my home, I mean. I have travelled so many thousands of miles since I came to America that I’m unsettled and can’t tell if I’m ready to put down roots. Since Lake died I have no conception of where I belong.’ She thought for a moment, then added, ‘And I’m not sure if I knew before.’
‘I would miss you,’ he murmured. ‘Dreumel’s Creek isn’t the same without you. I discovered that when you went to California.’
She nodded absent-mindedly. ‘I know.’ She looked up at him and was surprised at how downcast he was. ‘I would miss you too, Wilhelm. Everyone. But it needn’t be for ever.’ She bit on her lip as she considered. ‘I feel that I owe it to Jewel. Her father entrusted her to my care and I must do what I think is best for her.’
He gave an exasperated exclamation. ‘And what is best for you, Georgiana? You escaped to America to find freedom! To prove that you are an independent woman. Yet you cannot let go of what you consider your obligations – your – allegiances!’
She stared at him. She had never seen him so roused. He was the calmest, steadiest man she had ever known, yet now he was flushed with what seemed to be outrage.
‘So – is that wrong? Should I disregard my inner feelings of loyalty? My conscience? Please advise me, Wilhelm, for I value your opinion.’ She gazed at him beseechingly. ‘Because I no longer know what is right or wrong or indeed what I want.’
He put his hand wearily to his forehead and rubbed it. ‘I’m sorry, Georgiana. So very sorry. I spoke hastily. Of course you must do what you think is best. You have the right to choose. That has always been your aim. Jewel is a dear sweet child and, yes, she must visit her family. It is only just and fair.’
He got up to leave and patted her shoulder as she sat on the sofa looking up at him. ‘I’m being selfish.’ He gave a whimsical laugh which didn’t quite convince her. ‘I am thinking only of our evenings together – our conversations. I will miss those. Who will I talk to when you go away?’ She saw him take a deep breath as he continued. ‘As of course you must.’
Am I making the right decision? she wondered as the ship left New York the following spring. I asked myself this same question when I departed from England over five years ago. Am I now merely retracing my steps? Why am I leaving my friends whom I love so dearly?
Kitty had given birth to a boy during that long harsh winter, and had called him Robert, his father’s real name. Wilhelm had been subdued all winter, concerned, she thought, about his cattle surviving the cold. But he had come to see her and Jewel off at New York, waving both arms in the air as the packet ship pulled away up the river Hudson on course for Liverpool, from where they would travel by railway across to Hull.
For the first fortnight the weather was fair and the sea calm, but then a hurricane blew in, the ship tossed and rocked on the high seas, their belongings fell from shelves and the lantern swayed precariously from its hook in the ceiling. Both Georgiana and Jewel were so sick they couldn’t eat anything but thin soup and biscuits. The sea was rough for several days, with wind and hail to add to their discomfort, and they kept to their cabin, which was hot and stuffy. When they finally emerged as the storm abated and there was a fresh breeze carrying them, they saw that there had been considerable damage on deck, with a ripped and tattered jib sail and a broken mast. The rest of the journey was long and tedious and they spent weary days walking around the deck for exercise.
A train was leaving Liverpool early the following morning after they disembarked. It was cold, dark and wet in Liverpool and as the train chugged and hissed its way towards Hull, Jewel leaned exhaustedly against
Georgiana. She had lost weight during the journey and her face was drawn and pallid, making her dark oriental eyes look enormous.
‘Are we nearly there, Aunt Gianna?’ she whispered. ‘I am so very, very tired.’
‘Poor darling.’ Georgiana put her arm around her. ‘Rest if you can; it is a long journey but we’ll be there before nightfall.’
An elderly woman sitting across from them in the carriage had been eyeing them surreptitiously since the start of the journey. Now she leaned towards Georgiana and asked curiously, ‘Is your husband a Chinaman, my dear?’
How very impertinent, Georgiana thought. ‘No,’ she answered plainly.
‘Oh? Then the child is not yours?’
Georgiana didn’t see fit to answer her, but the woman stared at Jewel and continued. ‘My son has gone to America. I was to have gone too but I changed my mind at the last minute, which is why I am travelling back on this train. He told me just before we were due to board that there were all kinds of people in America. Black and yellow, Red Indians even!’
‘So there are,’ Georgiana replied coldly. ‘And pink and white just like you and me.’
Surely Jewel won’t be turned away because of her Chinese blood? she pondered. I hadn’t thought of that. Perhaps her grandmother will not accept her as part of her own family? Will Martin? And whatever is May going to say when she sees her?
Georgiana was quite disorientated when they stepped from the train in Hull. She felt cramped and hemmed in, used as she was to the wide open landscape of America. The smells of the blubber and seed oil which drifted over the town made her feel nauseous. She was disturbed too at the sight of beggars, men, women and barefoot children, sitting in the station waiting for the arrival of visitors with their hands outstretched and a desperate appeal in their eyes.
