by Terry Grosz
The Adventures of The Brothers Dent
By
Terry Grosz
© Copyright 2015 Terry Grosz (as revised)
Wolfpack Publishing
48 Rock Creek Road.
Clinton, Montana 59825
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, other than brief quotes for reviews.
ISBN: 978-1-62918-378-7
Table of Contents:
Dedication
Chapter One: THE BEE TREE AND HELL FOLLOWS A MAN ON A BLACK HORSE
Chapter Two: UNCLE JOHN AND DESTINY CALLS
Chapter Three: THE HUNT BEGINS
Chapter Four: ST. LOUIS
Chapter Five: NORTH TO THE BIGHORN RIVER
Chapter Six: FALL TRAPPING AND BLACKFEET PROBLEMS
Chapter Seven: SPRING, 1810 —GRIZ AND THE LOSS OF A FRIEND
Chapter Eight: FORT RAYMOND AND ANOTHER FRIEND JOINS THE AGES
Chapter Nine: BLACKFEET PROBLEMS AND THE DAY THE GROUND MOVED!
Chapter Ten: GRIZ TAKES A WIFE — CAPTURED!
Chapter Eleven: THE CACHE AND PARTNERS NO MORE
Chapter Twelve: FORT RAYMOND — CROW TERRITORY — WIVES!
Chapter Thirteen: BLACKFEET!
Chapter Fourteen: ST. LOUIS BOUND!
About the Author
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to one of my readers who is no bigger than a green-winged teal, but she is larger than all outdoors when it comes to conservation of the wonderful world of wildlife in which we precariously live.
Miss Carolyn Golba is one of my barbers at John’s Barber Shop in Evergreen, Colorado. She has such a love of life and appreciation of everything wild that one cannot help but appreciate not only the person but everything she stands for. She is gentle in today’s environmental world yet one tough lady when wrongs are committed on what she has come to love as “her world of wildlife.” Carolyn long ago realized that wildlife dies without making a sound. That the only voice it has is yours and if you aren’t squallin’ like a smashed cat, then you are part of the problem. As such, she has been a common-sense champion of everything wild, especially the much-persecuted wolves and grizzly bears in Wyoming, Idaho and Montana.
Dialogue with her over the many years has brought me to the realization that this tiny and gentle lady could have come across the plains in a covered wagon carrying a Winchester on her lap, and would have been one who knew how to use it if she had to...
No better champion has the world of wildlife and everything else wild that we have come to cherish than this little gal.
CHAPTER ONE : THE BEE TREE AND HELL FOLLOWS A MAN ON A BLACK HORSE
Joshua Dent and his brother, Gabriel, struggled with the weight of a large white-tailed buck they had just killed as they hurriedly dragged its bulk to their folks’ hardscrabble frontier cabin in the “Boot Heel” of Missouri.
“Mom!” yelled an excited sixteen-year-old Gabriel as he and his brother approached the open door of their cabin. “Hurry, Mom, come look!”
Sarah Dent looked up from her cooking at the hearth just in time to see her two excited sons bursting through the open doorway almost stumbling over each other in their hurry to proudly show their mom what they had brought home for the family larder.
“Boys, try not to tear down our home,” she cautioned with a loving smile as she moved over to the door to see what had brought on such excitement in her two growing young sons. Young sons who were fast turning into sturdy frontiersmen.
The boys quickly parted to let their mom through the door and out into the front yard of their cabin. Seeing a large, heavy with autumn fat, white-tailed deer lying there for the whole world to see, Sarah exclaimed, “Boys, what a wonderful and welcome surprise. I was just in the process of warming up the elk stew from last night’s supper for your father’s dinner. But now, he will feast on fresh venison and all he can eat at that!
It was a good idea your father had in sending you two out this morning to see what you could do for our fresh meat supply.”
Seventeen-year-old Joshua and younger brother Gabriel just beamed at their mother’s surprise and happiness over their successful hunt. After all, thought Joshua, he had made a fine running shot on the deer as it had sailed over a log and out of sight in the dense underbrush of the creek bottom after being spooked off its day bed.
“You boys hurry up now and get the deer up on the meat pole and the hide off afore it spoils in this heat. Then cut me off the back straps so I can fix them up for our dinner. Also, be careful of the hide, mind you. If you don’t cut a lot of holes in it when you are skinning it out, I can get a Spanish silver dollar for it at the store. (The first silver dollar commonly used in America was in fact the Eight Reales coin, of pieces of eight fame, minted in Mexico from 1772 until 1826. Thomas Jefferson named it, “The First U.S. Silver Dollar,” and it was used until 1857 as hard currency on which our country’s prosperity was founded. Hence the terminology, “One Buck,” meaning one dollar for one deer hide.) Now get moving afore your dad gets in from plowing because he will be as hungry as a bear and as ready to eat like the two of you are in the morning after you roll out from your sleeping furs,” she continued.
The boys just stood there not moving a lick. As they did, they continued grinning big grins back at their mom upon hearing her words to get busy. Realizing time was running short for dinner preparation, Sarah said, “I swear. What is the matter with you two? Don’t you hear so good? I said get ‘cracking.’ Your pa will be home soon from his labors in the field and I need to get his dinner cooked and ready.”
The two boys continued standing there as if their feet were mired in deep swamp mud. Losing all patience with them, Sarah grabbed her broom and took a swat at her two big-for-their-age sons who easily ducked her playful swing.
“Mom, wait,” said Gabriel. “There is more good news. When we went to get the deer out from the creek where he had fallen, Joshua here got stung by a bunch of angry bees. Looking around, we discovered we had disturbed their home in an old white oak tree! Mom, there has to be a barrel of honey in there if there is a bucketful, not to mention all the comb in the world. Comb which you can make into candles and such.”
Sarah just stood there transfixed over those welcome magic words. There was always a shortage of expensive sweetener, like honey, on the frontier and even less of the valuable beeswax in which to make candles. A bee tree was nothing short of a miracle to hard-pressed frontier families and one to be coveted. Not hardly daring to believe her ears she said, “Are the two of you sure? You ain’t funnin’ me, are you? Because if you are, you will get a dam good thrashing from my broom for sure. And then another one from your pa when he gets home for ‘joshing’ me.”
“No, Mom, for real,” said Gabriel. “After dinner, can Josh and me take our washtub, some buckets, and go back to the tree to gather up the honey afore some black bear finds it?”
“Let me run that by your pa and if he doesn’t need the two of you this afternoon in the fields, you can go. Now mind the two of you. Get that deer skinned and some back straps cut out and brought to me so I can begin frying them. Also, save the fat from the back and intestines, so I can render it out for cookin’ oil, medicinals and the like. Now scat,” she said, as she shook her broom at her two, always trying to get out of hard work boys.
Dragging the huge white-tail over to the meat pole, the two boys quickly strung up the deer. There they began skinning and cleaning it up. Later the skillful young frontiersmen had the skin off the deer with nary a nick in th
e hide and were cutting off the thick layers of pure white fat from the back and insides for rendering. Then off came the back straps and tender loins. They quickly went into the cabin for their mom to fry into steaks for their noonday meal.
Shortly after dinner found the two boys leading a mule loaded with wooden buckets and a washtub heading for the bee tree some half-mile distant in the creek bottom. That was followed by a warning from their father, Caleb, to be successful in their efforts or they would be staring at the backside of a mule for a week. Stumbling over each other like a couple of black bear cubs, the boys waved back at their dad in acknowledgment over his cautionary words.
Later at the bee tree, the boys built a large, densely smoking fire underneath the hive’s opening from a thick stack of green eastern red cedar boughs. Soon, the tree was crawling with swarms of confused bees. While Gabriel tended the densely smoking fire, Joshua swung his dad’s heavy-bladed ax at the bottom of the oak, cutting off great slabs of the tree’s old and partially rotten outer wood. Finally, the old tree toppled to the ground as many smoke-stunned bees crawled around in confusion from what was once their home. Using their single buck saw, Gabriel sawed through the downed tree above the bee’s entrance hole isolating that portion of the tree holding the bee’s hive. Swinging the flat back of their single-bladed ax, Gabriel took his turn at the downed oak using an iron wedge in the process to split open that part of the decaying trunk holding the hive. Soon great swarms of bees crawled forth into the dense smoke as the two boys looked on in wonder with running, squinting eyes at the size and number of the combs of honey now exposed in the hollow of the tree.
Back at the cabin as Sarah swept out the floor, she heard the sounds of numerous horses’ hooves approaching and then reining up in front of their open front door.
“Hello, the cabin. Anyone home?” boomed out a loud voice.
Sarah, unaware of any of her neighbors coming to visit, put down her broom and went to the front door. Looking out, she spotted six burly, heavily whiskered, rough looking men sitting on horses drawn up menacingly in a row in front of the cabin. “Good afternoon, Gentlemen. I am Sarah Dent. May I help you?” she asked hesitantly.
“You sure may, Little Lady,” said the largest of the men with flowing black locks and a massive beard of the same color. With those words, he dismounted quickly from his coal-black riding horse.
Walking boldly towards her, Sarah was taken aback by his abrupt, course manner and, stepping quickly back inside the cabin for the protection it offered, tripped over a nearby, three- legged milking stool. Staggering, Sarah fell onto her back. In an instant, amidst raucous laughter from the other men still seated on their horses looking through the open doorway, the man with the coal-black hair and beard was on top of her tearing at her clothing. Stunned for a moment at the turn of events, Sarah just lay there as the strength and musky smell of the man overpowered her. Then realizing what was happening, she tried to fight back as the man forced himself deeply into her. Scared, surprised and now hurting over the man’s actions, she tried scratching out his eyes, only to be repeatedly smashed in the face with a stone- hard fist until rendered unconscious. When she came to, the last of the six men was just getting off her after he had his way as well. Stumbling to her feet and vomiting up the recent venison dinner over a stifled scream at what had just occurred, she was clubbed senseless with the milking stool by the one with the massive black beard and long black locks.
***
Caleb Dent, rounding the far turn in his field with his team of mules and plow, noticed for the first time the large number of strange horses pulled up in front of his cabin. Realizing something was out of the ordinary and not recognizing any of the horseflesh as from that of his neighbors, he threw the reins over his mules’ heads. Then he began the long walk towards his cabin to investigate the strange horses and men who had ridden in on them. Approaching the north side of his cabin, Caleb was surprised to see six men suddenly step out from behind his barn and level their Pennsylvania rifles at him. That was instantly followed by a line of belched fire and smoke. In an instant, six lead balls violently smashed into his body! That was the last thing he saw or heard in his world!
Carefully filling their buckets and washtub only half-full to avoid sloshing out the precious golden brown liquid, Gabriel and Joshua tied them securely to the packsaddle of their mule. Covered with sticky honey, dead bees, and now flies and yellow jackets drawn to the sweet smelling essence, the boys carefully herded their mule up out of the deep creek bottom. Happily, albeit slowly, they headed for home with their treasure. Inside the buckets and washtub were gallons of rich amber honey mixed with numerous dead bees and large combs of honey. The boys had eaten all they could hold of the sweet sticky treasure at the bee tree and were now carefully coming home so as not to spill any. In the backs of their minds were the soon-to-be smiles of their parents over the sticky treasure and the thought their mom, in celebration of such a rare event, would bake them one of her wonderful Dutch oven apple pies, an apple pie so tasty that its crust would literally melt in their mouths. With those thoughts of soon-to-be hot apple pie swirling around in their heads, they could hardly wait.
***
An hour later as they walked up out of the long draw holding the creek, they chanced seeing a group of men on horses quickly leaving the area of their cabin in a cloud of dust. Leading the group of men on a jet black horse was a huge man with flowing black hair and massive beard of the same color. Not recognizing any of the men or their horses as owned by their neighbors, the two boys continued their careful walk across their father’s recently plowed fields. As they did, they noticed their father’s mules standing quietly at the head of the field still hitched to the plow and their dad nowhere to be seen.
Ever mindful of the now sun-warmed slopping honey but with questions in their minds as to the reason for so many horsemen and the absence of their dad, the boys carefully picked up their pace. Nearing their cabin, Gabriel noticed a crumpled mound of something lying by their barn. Looking more closely, he then realized it was the body of a man!
“Josh, that is a person lying over there by our barn! ” he yelled, as he dropped his rifle and the mule’s reins. Then it was a sprint as the boys ran towards the inert form. Within moments, the boys reached the bloody form of their father and they didn’t have to look twice to realize he was dead! Kneeling down, they rolled him over only to see the face of their father looking skyward sightlessly for the last time. Tears flooded down their shocked faces and thoughts raced quickly through their confused minds as to why this had happened.
Then Gabriel said, “Mom! Where is mom?”
With that dreaded concern now racing through their minds, both boys leaped to their feet and raced for the cabin. Crashing through the open doorway, they were shocked to see their bloodied mother lying on the floor with a badly beaten face and bloodied head that was hardly recognizable! Racing to her side, the boys quickly realized she was now with their pa...
***
Sitting on the floor of the cabin, the tears flowed freely down both of their weathered faces as the anguish over their losses flooded throughout their young frames now rocking in raw emotion. Looking through heavily misted eyes, Gabriel quickly looked around their cabin. It was then that he realized it had been looted. Everything of little or no value was scattered around on the floor in utter confusion and destruction. However, their dad’s Pennsylvania rifle and shotgun that normally hung over the fireplace were now gone.
“Josh, those men we saw leaving the cabin led by the bearded man on the black horse had to be the ones who did this! We need to go after them and kill every one of them!” he said through clenched teeth and a rapidly hardening heart.
Racing back to their mule still patiently standing with the honey buckets, the boys hurriedly picked up their previously dropped rifles and ran for the barn. Inside they quickly saddled two riding horses overlooked by the mystery men when they saw the approaching boys and, tearing out from the b
arn, began tracking the trail left by the six men’s riding and packhorses. As if adding to their heartfelt misery, the afternoon skies clouded up as they usually did during that time of the year in Missouri and it began raining heavily. Soon, as if the gods were on a tear as well over the killings of their parents, the air was rent with flashes of lightning. Lightning followed by thunderclaps so loud they almost swept one off his horse. However, the boys continued on as the trail through the forest left by the killers, now being washed by rains, became harder and harder to follow. When the killers rode out onto the main road laced with other horse and mule traffic, coupled with the now summer downpour, the trail was soon lost...
That night just at dark, after riding hard on the outlaws’ trail and stopping at every farmstead to spread the word of their parents’ killing, the boys reined up back at their now-darkened cabin. No one contacted had seen the six men with the longhaired one riding a black horse. Throughout the afternoon, the two young men had not only ridden hard, hot on the killers’ trail, but found they had cried out their emotions along the way as well. Now, they just felt cold, alone, and empty, not knowing what now lay before them. By the light of flickering candles, the boys dug their parents’ grave under a nearby oak tree and laid them together for the rest of time, as they had lived in love.
Then realizing they had left their mule still loaded with the buckets of honey back at the plowed field, they searched for him in the dark until they found him down by their fishpond feeding in the tall grasses. The buckets and washtub of honey were nowhere in sight as the mule, tiring of the sticky load in their absence, had rolled over and over until he had rid himself of the fly- and yellow jacket-gathering nuisance. But he did not look like a mule now. Covering himself with honey as he rolled over and over, he had picked up every leaf, blade of dead grass, and twig imaginable. Now he looked like a woolly mule with every earthly thing possible adhering to his sticky hide. If the moment in time hadn’t been so heavy in grief, it would have been funny. Josh stripped naked and led their mule into the pond. There he washed off the animal until he appeared to be the mule he was once again. Then back to their barn they went along with the rest of their dad’s mules from the field and their riding horses. After caring for the animals, the boys, utterly exhausted emotionally and physically, returned to their now eerily quiet cabin and fell into a restless sleep in their sleeping room in the cabin’s loft.
