“Actually,” I said, marshaling my voice. “Actually, I won’t be requiring a schooner.” I swallowed hard. “I came to say good-bye.”
“Good-bye?” Keer-ukso repeated.
“Yes,” I said quickly, before my courage disappeared. “There’s a schooner leaving this afternoon bound for San Francisco. I’m going home.”
“But how can you pay the fare?” Jehu asked bluntly.
He was so irritating. “My financial affairs are none of your concern.”
“Everyone knows Swan gambled away your money.”
“This is how I’m paying for my fare,” I said in frustration, thrusting out the watch.
Jehu snatched it out of my hand, inspecting it closely. “Who gave this to you?”
“A gentleman gave it to me.”
He took a step forward, his eyes turning dark, like the sky over the bay before a storm. “There aren’t any gentlemen out here.”
“You are most certainly correct on that count, Mr. Scudder,” I said, glaring right back at him. “But I assure you, Mr. Abraham Black was a gentleman in all respects.”
“Abraham Black?” M’Carty croaked hoarsely from his bed.
“Oh, then you are acquainted with Mr. Black?” I asked eagerly. “Isn’t he perfectly charming? It was so refreshing—”
“Where is he now?” M’Carty demanded, pulling himself up and hobbling over using a thick cane, pain etched on his face from the effort.
“Why, I have no idea. He left yesterday.”
“Did he say where he was from?” he asked anxiously.
“California, I believe.”
“What did he look like?”
“Well, he was about your height, with trim gray hair. He wore a neat black suit.”
“Jane,” M’Carty asked urgently, “did you tell him where Russell went?”
I didn’t understand why M’Carty was so upset. “I told him that Mr. Russell and Mr. Swan had gone to the rendezvous with Governor Stevens.”
“Oh Lordy.”
“What?”
M’Carty slumped against the wall, his face white. “He’s going to kill Russell,” he whispered.
CHAPTER TEN
or,
M’Carty’s Strange Story
After his startling announcement, M’Carty promptly collapsed on the cabin floor with a groan.
Cocumb shook her head at him. “Bed,” she said firmly. She waved an imperious hand, and Keer-ukso and Jehu hauled M’Carty up and carried him to the bed between them.
“What do you mean, he’s going to kill Mr. Russell?” I asked, joining the crowd over at the bed.
“Help me sit up, woman,” M’Carty groaned to Cocumb, his face strained with pain.
“You are more stubborn than a dog stuck in mud,” she said, propping pillows behind him.
M’Carty breathed hard from the exertion of sitting up.
“Mr. Black didn’t even know who Mr. Russell was,” I said.
M’Carty eyed me sharply. “Oh, he knows Russell, all right. Believe you me. He knows Russell.”
“But how?”
“Cause he was one of ’em.”
“One what?”
“A Silencer.”
The cabin was quiet for a moment. Finally Keer-ukso asked the question all of us were thinking. “What is a Silencer?”
“It’s a mountain man, of course. A trapper. One of the most famous ones.”
I had never given any consideration to what Mr. Russell had done prior to coming to Shoalwater Bay. Fur trapper. He surely dressed the part, with his buckskins and rifle.
“Russell worked for the Rocky Mountain Fur Company years ago. Trapped for them. Beaver. Otter. You name it. If it had a hide, he killed it.”
It was easy to picture Mr. Russell trekking through the snowy, windswept mountains, carefully tracking animals. Living a life of solitude, with only his horse for company.
As if he knew what I was thinking, M’Carty said, “Russell worked with four other men.”
“I thought all mountain men trapped alone.”
“That’s just talk. Ain’t too many men fool enough to live in the wilderness by themselves. If an animal don’t get you or a storm don’t kill you, your own mind’ll turn on you for lack of someone to talk to.”
“What about the others?” Jehu asked.
“Well, the other men Russell trapped with were Elijah Barnett, Toby Winston, Jack Meares, and a fellow named Abe Black.”
“My Mr. Black?” I asked.
“Your Mr. Black?” Jehu demanded.
“I hardly think that you are in a position to say anything. At least Mr. Black’s a gentleman. At least he wasn’t trying to trick me into—”
M’Carty held up a hand for silence.
Jehu and I stared at each other furiously.
M’Carty shook his head. “Yes, Jane, I believe the man you met was the same man who trapped with Russell.” He swallowed hard. “Anyhow, the five of them trapped along the Snake River and into the mountains. They called themselves the Silencers on account of the fact that they didn’t leave so much as a rustle of an animal behind them.”
Keer-ukso cracked a smile.
“How long did they work together?” I asked.
“I reckon they trapped for near about four years before the accident. This was well over twenty years ago now. They were all young men back then, every one.”
“The accident?”
M’Carty’s face turned grim. “As Russell tells it, they were trapping along a river, high in the mountains. Now, rivers are where most trappers work ’cause that’s where beavers are found. The critters build their homes right in the water. You jest set your trap, put some scent on it, and if you wait long enough the animal will come on out and walk himself right into your trap.”
Jehu whistled admiringly.
“Sounds easy, but it was a hard way to make a living. Especially if you were a company man. All your equipment was rented from the company, and so that came out of your pay. You had to work real hard, too, to turn a profit and make it pay off.” M’Carty took a breath. “And then of course there’s the grizzlies.”
“Grizzlies?”
“See, beavers like to live near the rivers. But so do the grizzly bears. They do their fishing there. Many a trapper’s been killed by a grizzly while trying to catch a beaver. On the day Abe Black died, they were along a river.”
“Died?” I whispered. “But he’s not dead! I ate supper with him, I tell you—”
M’Carty held up a finger for quiet. “And I tell you that Abe Black died that day in the mountains.”
I shook my head.
M’Carty’s voice was pitched low as he described the terrible day. “It was early spring, but there was still snow on the ground. The men had finished for the day and were setting up camp. Except for Abe Black. He said he was going to check one last time on the beaver traps he’d set earlier that day. He didn’t want no beaver getting trapped and then some other varmint coming along and eating it before he got to it. So there he was checking on his trap when all of a sudden a grizzly bear came behind him and slashed him across the back.”
I gasped, remembering Mr. Black’s scarred back.
“The grizzly musta smelled him, ’cause he came up from downriver. Abe grabbed that grizzly, and that grizzly grabbed him back, and its claws just slashed and slashed at his back. The men heard him screaming and came running and shot at the beast, and the bear took off.” He took a long swallow of whiskey, draining the bottle. “But it was too late.”
“Too late?”
“Abe was dead,” M’Carty said with a wince, propping himself up on an elbow. “That grizzly had ripped apart his back and he’d lost a lot of blood. They buried him under some leaves, and took his gear and headed off.”
“They just left him there?”
“The ground was too frozen for a proper burial, and he was dead,” M’Carty said simply. “And they were in the mountains. They were weeks away from the nearest town
, even if they had wanted to haul his body out.”
“Why’d they take his gear?”
“If they hadn’t taken it, the company would’ve charged them for it.” M’Carty breathed heavily, his face gray from the pain. “Russell was real broke up. He and Abe were like brothers. And then of course, he was the one who had to tell Abe’s wife the bad news. Russell says she took to her bed and was dead a week later … that Lucy died of pure heartbreak … that it was even sadder than Abe dying. Saddest thing he ever seen.”
“Lucy,” I whispered.
Was never a prettier girl than Lucinda.
“Russell didn’t have the heart to trap after that. He spent some time leading pioneers across the mountains, and after a while he headed up here to the bay. And then a few years ago, the rumors started.”
“What kind of rumors?” Jehu asked.
“Rumors about a ghost.”
I shivered.
M’Carty eyed us appraisingly. “Takes time for stories to travel to these parts. They take their time, but they get here eventually. First we heard how Elijah Barnett went to sleep in his tent a breathing man and never woke up. His partner found him the next morning, his throat cut. He’d been murdered.”
Murdered. The word hissed through the cabin.
“Whoever did it left a grizzly paw in his hand.”
We all looked at M’Carty.
“Elijah’s partner swore that they were the only ones within miles, that there weren’t even any Indians around. He was sleeping right next to him and never heard a sound. Never even woke up.”
Keer-ukso’s eyes widened. “Memelose,” he whispered.
Memeloses were spirits of the dead.
M’Carty nodded his head. “That’s right. Elijah’s partner said the same thing. Said it musta been a ghost. And that’s when the rumors started about Abe Black’s ghost seeking revenge.”
“But Mr. Black’s no ghost, I assure you—”
“Toby Winston was next,” M’Carty continued. “He was mining for gold in California. They found him dead in a tunnel. Same as Elijah. A grizzly paw in his hand. The men who were in the mine with him swore they never saw nobody come in. They swore to high heaven that only a ghost could’ve got past that many men without being spotted. The only thing that was unusual was that the hound dog that hung around the camp went crazy, barking his fool head off. That dog was never the same, and they had to shoot it to put it out of its misery.”
“Animals see memeloses,” Keer-ukso said in a knowing voice.
Dogs don’t seem to like me much these days, Miss Peck. They don’t take to traveling men.
“Go on,” I said, my voice a little unsteady now. “What happened next?”
M’Carty took a deep breath. “Jack Meares heard about what happened and sent word to Russell. To warn him to be careful.”
“The letter I brought Russell. It was from Missouri,” Jehu interjected.
M’Carty nodded. “Jack Meares had a farm there.”
“Had?” I asked, my throat tight.
“Jack Meares was murdered nearly nine months ago. His hired hand found him one morning with his throat cut.”
“Grizzly bear paw?” Keer-ukso asked.
M’Carty’s silence spoke volumes.
“This is ridiculous,” I said with a nervous laugh. “Men telling tall tales.”
M’Carty looked at me hard. “And now Russell’s the only one of the Silencers left.”
“But Mr. Black was real. He’s no ghost. He can’t be,” I insisted. “He milked the cow for me. He, he came to supper—”
And didn’t eat a bite, a small voice in my head said silkily. What kind of flesh-and-blood man ignores a cooked meal?
“Who’s to say what he is, Miss Peck. He could be a demon or he could be a man. Either way, one thing’s sure. Abe Black’s a man who was left for dead and he’s come back to kill the last of the men who left him. He’s come back for vengeance.” M’Carty’s voice lowered an octave, and he stared at me. “He’s a dead man walking and he’s come to kill Russell.”
The air went terribly still. Everyone stared at me.
“And you told him where to find him,” M’Carty finished grimly.
“This is nonsense!” I cried.
M’Carty snorted.
“Mr. Black is no murderer! He gave me this watch to pay my fare!” I said, looking about wildly for an ally. “Cocumb,” I pleaded. “You don’t believe this nonsense, do you?” She seemed such a sensible woman.
She sighed heavily. “We have known Mr. Russell since he first arrived on the bay, Jane, and he has spoken of Mr. Black and the other men. And now that Mr. Russell’s friends are dead…,” she said, her thought trailing off.
M’Carty started barking orders to Jehu and Keer-ukso. “You boys gotta go find Russell, and fast. You gotta find him before Abe Black does.”
Jehu turned to Keer-ukso. “You know the area.”
“This Black have canoe?” Keer-ukso asked me.
“No, he was on horseback.”
He nodded decisively, and looked at M’Carty. “We need canoe.”
“You bet, boys! And take my gun, too,” M’Carty ordered, pointing to a corner of the room. “You’re gonna need it. At least, I sure hope you will. Bullets won’t stop no ghost.”
“You’re going now?” I asked.
“Black left yesterday,” Jehu said simply. “But Keer-ukso knows these parts better.” He turned to Cocumb.
“Cocumb, we’ll finish the roof when we get back. It should hold till then,” he said. “Can we borrow some packs and provisions?”
Cocumb nodded and started to dig in a trunk in the corner. Keer-ukso and Jehu began to help her. Watching the swirl of activity in the cabin, I said to no one in particular, “Well, I’ll be going now. My boat will be leaving soon.” I turned and began walking to the door.
A hand lashed out and grabbed my wrist.
I turned to see Jehu.
“Let go,” I said, tugging at my hand.
He stared at me hard, his face working with unnamed emotions as he held my arm firmly but gently. The scar on his cheek twitched. I stared at him for a long tense minute, until he finally croaked, “You can’t go.”
“Why not?” I demanded.
I looked around the room at Cocumb, M’Carty, and Keer-ukso, who all looked away as if embarrassed. Jehu was holding his breath and looking at me with a strange, desperate expression.
“What?” I snapped.
“You can’t go,” he repeated.
“I certainly can. And shall. Let go of my arm, please.”
Something flickered across Jehu’s face, and his deep blue eyes lit up. “You have to come with us!”
“Come with you,” I echoed, startled. “Have you gone mad?”
“It’s. Your. Fault,” he said in a low voice, releasing my wrist and stabbing his finger at me.
“What’s my fault?” I said, retreating a step toward the door.
“You’re the reason a murderer’s after Russell. You may as well have just gone and shot him yourself.” He shook his head firmly, advancing on me. “You gotta stop being selfish.”
“I’m not being selfish!” I exclaimed indignantly, my voice rising. “It’s, it’s not proper for me to go off into the wilderness. It’s, it’s—dangerous! And there are wild animals and, and—” I sputtered to a stop as I realized they were all shaking their heads at me, even Cocumb. I turned to Keer-ukso wildly. “Please, tell him that I can’t go!”
He and Jehu shared a quiet look.
“Mr. Russell is good man,” Keer-ukso said finally.
“This is ridiculous. No one needs to go after him. Mr. Black isn’t a ghost, or even a murderer, for that matter,” I added. “He’s a perfectly polite gentleman.”
“Polite or not, those men are still dead, Jane,” M’Carty said sharply.
“Even if you’re right, what possible use could I be?” I demanded. “If he’s so dangerous—”
Jehu cut me off i
n exasperation. “Because you know him, Jane. You know what he looks like. We’ve never even seen him. And besides, he trusts you. You can help lure him out.”
“Lure him out?” I drew myself up, smoothed my skirt. “That’s your plan? This is utter foolishness. I have a boat to catch.” And with that, I turned and opened the door.
Jehu’s shoulders slumped. “Fine. Suit yourself.”
“I intend to do just that.”
Jehu turned and said loudly, “I guess Mr. Russell was right about her after all.”
“What do you mean, he was right about me?” I asked, pausing in the doorway.
Jehu ignored me. “We’ll head out to the bay and paddle up as far as we can?”
Keer-ukso nodded, avoiding my gaze. “And then we take river.”
M’Carty looked at Cocumb, and then back at Jehu. “You know I’d go with you if I could, boys.” He looked at them meaningfully. “If I don’t hear from you in two weeks, I’ll send word to Toke’s village.”
Jehu nodded and turned to Keer-ukso, who was holding two bulging packs. “We better get moving.”
Wasn’t he even going to say good-bye to me?
“Be careful,” Cocumb said.
Jehu brushed past me. “We will.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
or,
Jane Peck’s Amazing Tonic
I went out to the porch with Cocumb and M’Carty and watched as Jehu and Keer-ukso disappeared into the scrubby woods that led to the beach, holding the canoe aloft. Jehu was moving quickly, his strides long, as if he couldn’t get away from me fast enough. Keer-ukso glanced back at me, an expression on his face of … what? Disappointment? Frustration? But Jehu never turned back to look at me. Not once.
This wasn’t what I wanted. I had wanted to return to Philadelphia with an easy heart and start a new life, a life far from this wild stretch of territory. A life where I would be appreciated and needed.
The sky was still a bright stinging blue and the air sweet, but a dark knot had formed in my belly, and it was turning now, twisting its way up to my throat.
I turned to M’Carty and Cocumb and blurted out, “What did Jehu mean? What did Mr. Russell say about me?”
M’Carty glowered at me. “Ask him yourself.” Then he limped back into the cabin without a word.
Wilderness Days Page 9
