by Jim Cox
While the scythes were being sharpened, Thomas suggested after the hay was cut the next project would be to build a cabin. Snow and cold weather would be upon them by the first of November, so they only had four weeks. He pointed to a stand of pines on a hillside and indicated the trees in that area would be suited for the building logs. The boys headed for the grass field, and the men went to the trees with axes in hand. All, except Jake, had loaded rifles.
The men were dismounting when Thomas noticed a certainty in Douglas’s expression before he spoke. “Thomas, we can select the trees and begin building the cabin, but I won’t move my family up here until I know they’ll be safe. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir, I understand, and I share your concerns, but out here in the West, it’s always best to be prepared and not put things off.”
They tied Star and Black to a strong tree branch and started surveying the area. Most of the trees were tall enough to build a fifteen-by-twenty-foot cabin, which would be sufficient for a year or two. Then a larger, more elaborate house could be built. As they were selecting their timber, one of the men walked to the clearing every few minutes to look for Indians.
At noon, they met at the barn to eat. Mrs. Douglas had packed salt pork sandwiches and a can of peaches. The horses were content in the corral eating cut grass and taking an occasional drink from the stream. The corral rails extended a couple of feet into the stream, which created a ready source of water, a natural watering trough. From time to time, Bart observed Maude’s long pointed ears, but they remained relaxed.
The men were about ready to leave the timber and head home when the horses made a loud commotion. They heard twigs breaking, leaves crunching, and whinnies. When Herb and Thomas got to them, Star was standing wide-eyed, and Black was gone.
“He broke the reins—the knot’s still secure,” Thomas reported after examining where Black had been tethered. “It could have been Indians that spooked the horses. We’d better get down to the boys.”
Leading Star, the men came to an abrupt stop at the edge of the woods. “Are these bear tracks?” asked Douglas. “They sure are,” Thomas answered. “It takes a huge bear to leave prints that size. Might have been a grizzly, Black is probably still running, and I doubt if he comes back on his own. There’s no need looking for him today.”
The trip back to the camp was much like the previous night, except Thomas was mounted on the draft horse with Jake sitting behind him. After the horses were taken care of, they went to the creek and washed. Liz and Mrs. Douglas were waiting with worried faces when they returned to camp. They had plates of steaming hot stew, biscuits, and coffee waiting for the men. “How did your day go? Did you see Indians?” asked Mrs. Douglas.
“We got a lot done. The boys made good progress with the hay, and we marked enough trees to begin logging for our cabin.”
“Are you building a cabin, Papa? When will it be completed? When can we move in?”
“Now, don’t get your hopes up. We won’t be moving until I’m sure it’s safe. However, in the West, one must be prepared and not put things off.” Douglas caught Thomas’ eye and winked as he repeated his friend’s wisdom.
“Where’s Black?” Liz asked. “I saw Jake riding behind Thomas when they rode in.” Her father explained the entire bear episode while he ate supper.
Mrs. Douglas indicated the day was one of relaxation for the women. Apparently, she and Liz had spent several hours at Jenny’s Place getting acquainted with folks and talking with Mrs. Kaiser, who seemed to be making the best of her new living arrangements. Several patrons came to the café while they were there, including a young man about Liz’s age. Jenny said he was the banker’s son. His name was Sidney.
At midmorning the following day, the men stopped at the Indian trail. Fresh tracks were evident, including some heading toward the homestead and some returning from that direction. The men looked at the tracks with concern and reached for their rifles. Slowly, they proceeded out of the valley, carefully scanning their surroundings and advancing with caution.
Unshod hoofprints led to the barn, and the ground by the corral rail had been trampled by standing horses. Thomas told the boys to stay mounted and to be prepared to leave in a hurry. He and Douglas dismounted with chamber-filled rifles. They opened the barn’s double doors and paused for a few seconds to let their eyes adjust to the dark and then walked in.
“You boys get down and come in here,” Douglas called. When Bart and Jake entered, they saw Black standing in a stall.
“Did the Indians catch Black and put him in the barn?” Bart asked.
“Couldn’t have been anyone else,” said Thomas. “And look over here, they left us a hindquarter of buffalo meat and three cured buffalo hides that’ll come in mighty handy when winter gets here. Looks to me like they’re inviting us to move in. Don’t you agree, Herb?”
“I’d say you’re right, Thomas, but let’s talk to Captain Willard when we get back. I want to make sure we’re interpreting these events correctly. By the way, has anyone seen the captain in the past few days?”
“I think he went to Denver to talk with the Territorial Governor,” Thomas suggested. “My guess, he’ll be back by tomorrow.”
“If you see him, ask him to look me up. Now, let’s get to work. You boys sharpen the scythes and cut more grass. We’ll head for the trees.”
They worked two hours after lunch and then headed home to share the news about Black and the Indian gifts. But the camp was empty when they arrived. “Where do you suppose they’ve gone?” questioned Bart.
“I’d say they’re at Jenny’s Place pestering the customers and talking up a storm with Jenny and Mrs. Kaiser,” Douglas said with a chuckle. “Let’s go find them.”
Sure enough, when the four entered the restaurant, there sat the women holding cups. To the men’s surprise, the captain was with them. “Didn’t expect you back until tomorrow,” questioned Thomas. “Thought you went to see the governor?”
“I came back a day early because of the governor’s schedule. By the way, what are you men doing back so early? These women have been telling me you work until dark on the old Vincent Ranch.”
“Yes, how come you’re back so early?” asked Mrs. Douglas.
After telling what the Indians had done in great detail, Douglas looked at the captain and asked, “What’s your take on this, Captain? What should we do?”
Without hesitation, he answered, “Douglas, the Indians have given you an invitation to live among them in peace. It’s apparent the story of Bart’s kindness to the old chief has spread throughout the Indian nation in this part of the country. You won’t have a thing to worry about with the Indians—now or in the future. That goes for your family and others that are welcomed by you on your property. You’re safe to hunt game, your stock will not be molested, and if you need protection, you’ll get help. That’s the way it is with Indians in this part of the country.”
All eyes were on the two men as questions and answers flowed back and forth. The Douglas clan soaked up every word, trying to contemplate if they would be moving to the ranch in the next day or two.
“Should we wait a few days to see if things remain peaceful? Maybe the Indians will change their minds? Captain, I’ve got to be certain my family is safe.”
“To wait would indicate mistrust. It would be a slap in the face. If you don’t move in tomorrow, most likely you’ll never be welcomed as wholeheartedly as if you accept the natives’ invitation right away. Don’t waste this opportunity, Douglas. Your family will be safe. I have no doubt about it.”
Everyone’s eyes followed Douglas as he went to the stove for coffee. After pouring, he stood for a few minutes before turning and announcing, “We’ll leave tomorrow after we’ve gathered our belongings and purchased some supplies.” Douglas was not jubilant about this decision. Concern still weighed heavy on his mind, but he had always trusted the captain’s advice—he’d trust him in this matter too.
After supper, the Dou
glas family was busy preparing tomorrow’s move. Mrs. Douglas wrote out her shopping list with Liz, and Mr. Douglas examined the wagon wheels and other equipment. All were excited. Everyone that is, except for Jake and Thomas. They sat several yards away and hadn’t said a word since supper.
Bart ambled over to Mr. Douglas. “Thomas and Jake are down and out, Mr. Douglas. They’ve been quiet all evening. They think we’re going to leave them behind. Are we, Mr. Douglas? Are we leaving them behind?”
“We don’t have money for their wages, Bart. I feel terrible for not being able to offer them jobs, but I don’t have the means.”
“Would you at least talk with them? I think they’ll understand your position,” Bart asked.
With a heavy heart, Douglas went to talk with Thomas and Jake.
Thomas nodded after Douglas explained the situation and said, “I understand, Herb. I wouldn’t want you to run short because of me. I hope things go well for you.”
Douglas had turned and was halfway back to the wagon when Jake called to him. “Mister D-D-D-Douglas. I’ll w-w-w-work for nothing if you’ll h-h-h-have me.”
Thomas eyed Jake, and then called out, “That goes for me too.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
It was midmorning when the Douglas outfit left Flat Peaks. Thomas was in the lead on Black, followed by Mrs. Douglas and Liz in the Vincent buggy hitched to Star. Mr. Douglas drove the wagon with Jake alongside him. It was loaded with three chicken coops, their supplies, and the family’s personal possessions. Tied to the back were the two milk cows. About a hundred feet to one side, Maude and Bart walked along unconcerned. Travel seemed sluggish as they headed to their new home; the slow, steady pace did not alter as they rode mile after mile.
The sun was high overhead when Bart rode up to Thomas and asked about the day’s work schedule. Thomas was starting to explain when Maude tensed and her ears came to a point. Bart immediately raised his right hand, and everyone stopped. “The Indian trail is beyond the next ridge,” whispered Thomas. “It’s possible Maude is acting up because of Indians. You stay here, and I’ll go back and tell Herb that Maude’s nervous.”
Thomas was gone ten minutes before he returned. “Herb says you and I are to continue, but we’re to be watchful. If things look clear, we’re to signal for them to follow on. If it looks unsafe, we’re to ride back. Let’s move on up to the ridgetop overlooking the trail,” suggested Thomas. “If it’s Indians and they see you riding Maude, they’ll leave us alone. That is if the captain has read the signs right.” Slowly, the two rode to the top of the ridge.
Eight natives with painted faces were riding eastward on the Indian trail. Rifles hung from their horses’ sides, and each Indian held a lance. One rider was bent forward with his arms around his horse’s neck, struggling to stay mounted. He looked like he’d been shot.
Thomas was about to retreat when the lead Indian raised an open hand toward the two white men and then the remaining Indians followed suit. Thomas and Bart, in turn, raised their open palms. The two parties eyed one another, knowing commitments had been made. Commitments that would not be broken. They would share the same hunting grounds and grant each other safe passage. The lead Indian nodded, and his people moved on. Watching the warriors ride out of sight, Thomas turned and waved the Douglas wagon forward.
In midmorning, the wagon pulled up beside the barn and its cargo was unloaded. The boys placed stones in a circle to form a fire pit and set the cooking rods. Jake carried an armload of dry firewood to the site, and soon coffee was being poured to wash down the sandwiches the ladies had packed for the trip.
There were several hours remaining before dark, so Douglas outlined the day’s duties. Liz and Jake were to cut hay; Mrs. Douglas was to organize the campsite, tend the cows, and prepare the evening meal. The men would go to the trees.
Thomas interrupted. “Herb, I suggest we prepare our sleeping quarters before we start working. It’ll be dark, and we’ll be dead tired when we stop for the evening. Why don’t we put Liz in the back stall, with you and Mrs. Douglas in the stall next to her? Jake, Bart, and I can take a couple of the front stalls? I think a wagon load of dried grass will be enough for the beds.”
“That’s a good idea,” reasoned Douglas. “If everyone pitches in, it’ll only take a half hour to get things set.” Thomas went to hitch up the wagon, and soon the grass was brought in to create temporary sleeping quarters in the barn.
For four hours, hay was cut and trees were felled. Though the sun was bright in the outlying areas, long shadows began to grow from the cliff along the camp, so Mrs. Douglas started her evening chores earlier than normal. She milked the cows and placed the milk cans in the stream to cool before starting supper.
Darkness was setting in when the workers returned. They put their horses in the corral, forked in several piles of hay, and went to the creek to wash up. At the creek, Bart noticed Liz’s hands. “What’s the matter with your hands, Liz? They look bloody.”
“I have blisters from handling the scythe. They’ll get better.”
Mr. Douglas overheard the conversation and interrupted. “Let me see your hands, Liz.” As she opened her palms, raw flesh was exposed. Her hands had blistered, but the blisters had broken leaving her entire palms raw. When Liz went to her mother for treatment, she was scolded for letting her hands get in such a condition. After tending Liz’s hands with salve and wrapping them in clean cloth, Mrs. Douglas called for everyone to come and eat.
While plates were being filled, Mrs. Douglas said, “I think we all feel blessed for what we’ve been given. If you don’t mind, I’d like for Herb to say a blessing.”
“You’re right, dear. We have so much to be thankful for.” Eyes closed and heads bowed over the family’s first meal on the ranch.
The hungry workers ate broiled buffalo steaks, fried potatoes, and biscuits before relaxing with coffee. It was a time of few words; minds were filled with tomorrow’s plans. Millions of stars glistened overhead with a nearness accented by the crystal-clear mountain air and the almost moonless night. Sounds of the creek’s water, only a few yards away, instilled a feeling of peace and serenity—a sense of belonging to the land.
Unfortunately, the days were not serene and peaceful for Thomas. Bart saw him more than once shaking like a leaf and sometimes bending over, holding his stomach, apparently in pain. He even saw coffee slop from Thomas’ cup. He couldn’t keep it from shaking. “Mr. Douglas, I need to talk with you about Thomas. Something is wrong with him.”
“He’s struggling with alcohol withdrawal, Bart. There’s nothing we can do but keep him busy and be watchful. I’m sure he wants to go to town for whiskey in the worst way, but so far, he’s been able to overcome his cravings. Tell me if you see him leave.”
“Does Mrs. Douglas know?”
“Yes, she’s keeping an eye on him, too.”
Unbeknownst to everyone but her husband, Mrs. Douglas had been sitting with Thomas in the evenings, drinking coffee and talking with him, in an attempt to keep his mind away from the bottle. She had done this for the past week and would continue to do so for the next couple of weeks, hoping the shakes would stop and liquor would become a thing of Thomas’ past.
The following days started in the early dawn hours and ended at twilight for the Douglas clan. Jake and Liz had filled the barn loft with hay and then started gathering the winter’s firewood. They used one of the draft horses to pull dead, dried logs to camp, which would later be cut into two-foot lengths before splitting. Liz’s healing hands hampered her efforts somewhat, but she wrapped them daily and did her share of the work without complaint.
The men stayed busy cutting logs for the cabin. Thomas had found a two-man timber saw in the equipment room of the barn which made the logging faster. He and Douglas would fell a tree and cut the top off, creating a log the exact length needed for the cabin wall. They’d trim the branches away with axes, and then Bart would drag them behind a draft horse to the building site. Douglas estimat
ed four or five more days of cutting would provide enough logs. Afterward, they would start notching and fitting the logs for the cabin walls.
One night, Thomas, the clan’s acting attorney, said it was time to choose an official name for the ranch and design an attractive brand. He said the law allowed sixty days after purchasing property to register the name and brand, and it was time to start the selection process. Mr. Douglas asked everyone to come up with several names for the ranch.
Bart was dragging in a log when he spotted a distant rider coming toward camp. Bart put the log in its place and led the draft horse to the corral before going for his noon meal. “There’s a rider coming,” Bart announced. “Can’t tell who it is.” Heads turned to look for the rider. It was a man on a dappled horse coming at an easy pace. They continued eating but occasionally looked toward the approaching rider. Most likely, the man would be peaceable, but fully loaded rifles were close at hand if he was hostile.
It was Captain Willard. He tied his horse to the corral fence before coming to the fire. After a good handshaking with the men, Mrs. Douglas served him coffee and asked him to join them for dinner. That there was plenty of food. The captain accepted her offer and sat with the others on a nearby log.
They talked for over an hour. Douglas and his group told of their accomplishments and plans for what was yet to be done before winter set in. And the captain brought news from Flat Peaks. “Jenny and Mrs. Kaiser asked me to say ‘Hello,’ they said they miss their afternoon talks with you ladies. Eli said to tell you he’d be coming out for a visit before snow.”
The captain said he’d had a conversation with the territorial governor who suggested it was time for Colorado to join the union, and there was plenty of talk underway to make it happen. After all, Kansas had been accepted back in 1861 and had already celebrated its tenth year of statehood.
Those listening could tell the captain had something more on his mind, so they refrained from speaking. Mrs. Douglas poured more coffee. Then the captain said, “Governor Adams asked me to support his candidacy for state governor when the Colorado Territory becomes a state. When we become part of the union, elections must be conducted to fill the political offices. He asked me to join his political team and accept an important position, mostly desk work.”
