“Cocumb, you understand, don’t you? I have to go back to Philadelphia,” I said quickly. “It’s very important that I catch this boat.”
From inside the cabin came the distinct sounds of a crash and a groan.
Cocumb shook her head.
“Should we see if he’s okay?” I asked.
After a moment Cocumb said, “He’s fine. He doesn’t like to use cane. He’s stubborn,” she said, looking at me.
I took a breath. “Jehu has no right to expect me to put myself in that kind of danger! A real gentleman would never ask such a thing.”
“Boston William asked you to come here. You came.”
“Yes, well, that was a mistake that I’m trying to set right by going home. Where I belong.”
“Boston Jane, you talk about right.”
I stared at her helplessly.
“Mr. Russell, he took you in when Boston William did not come.”
“Well, yes, I suppose he did,” I said. But it wasn’t my fault William didn’t show up! I wanted to shout.
“And this Mr. Black,” Cocumb continued relentlessly. “You are sure he is a good man?”
In the distance a bell announced the imminent departure of the schooner.
“That’s my boat,” I said miserably.
“Cocumb!” M’Carty hollered.
Cocumb squared her shoulders and said, “You must decide.”
She turned and opened the door, and the creaking sound it made reminded me of the squeaky door on Mr. Russell’s cabin. All of a sudden I remembered how once before I had chosen to follow my own selfish desires.
And left my dear, sweet papa to die alone in Philadelphia.
“Cocumb,” I said before I could take it back. “Do you have another pack?”
She turned back and smiled at me, her eyes glinting with humor. “Of course.”
I ran all the way to the beach carrying my pack. If Jehu and Keer-ukso were already on the water, I would never catch them. But when I emerged over the dunes, they were sitting next to the canoe, playing a game of cards as if they didn’t have a care in the world.
I gasped, trying to catch my breath.
Jehu threw Keer-ukso a lopsided grin. “Guess you owe me.”
Keer-ukso nodded approvingly, and slapped a coin into Jehu’s palm.
“You made a bet about whether I was going to change my mind?” I demanded indignantly. “You couldn’t possibly have known.”
Jehu merely pocketed the coin.
“I can’t believe you bet against me,” I said to Keer-ukso.
He shrugged. “I win last bet.”
“Last bet? What did you bet?” But he only winked at me mysteriously.
Keer-ukso had hold of the canoe and was pushing it into the water. Jehu held a hand out to me to help me into the canoe.
“I’m still going back to Philadelphia,” I said to Jehu defiantly. “As soon as we get back.”
Jehu wisely said nothing.
The canoe we took fit the three of us and our packs easily. I sat in the middle as Keer-ukso perched in the back, expertly navigating our way along the shoreline. Jehu sat in front of me, paddling in long smooth strokes, taking orders from Keer-ukso. He didn’t seem to mind having someone else be captain.
The landscape passed in a blur of thick towering trees. I had never been on this part of the bay, and the rocky shoreline was raw and strangely beautiful, like a magician just waiting to reveal his secrets. This wild stretch of land seemed a world away from our tiny settlement. I peered into the trees and saw a thick shaggy shape loping along, as if it were keeping pace with us. A bear? I leaned over the side of the canoe to get a better look, and then it was gone, disappearing into the foliage.
Jehu was wearing the shirt I had sewn for him, and it was damp with sweat from the exertion of paddling.
“How long is this going to take?” I asked, abruptly realizing that the only dress I had was the one on my back.
“Two, maybe three days by canoe,” Keer-ukso said. “And then we hike.”
“I should have borrowed a Chinook dress from Cocumb,” I muttered under my breath.
“Got a spare pair of pants you can have,” Jehu said in a laconic voice.
“It’ll be a cold day when I borrow a pair of pants from you, Mr. Scudder.”
“‘Mr. Scudder’ is it now?”
I stared straight ahead, ignoring him.
The sun sank slowly, bathing the bay in a warm red glow. A breeze swept up, filling my nostrils with the scent of salt and seaweed, making me think of long-ago walks along the Philadelphia waterfront with Papa, when we watched the sleek ships return from exotic ports. Philadelphia. My schooner was long gone by now, its hold full of oysters, navigating its way along the coast back to San Francisco.
I shifted around, trying to make myself more comfortable. A thick knot of wood rubbed my posterior in a most annoying way, and I kept rearranging my skirts to avoid it, but to no avail. Finally, I looked down in frustration and saw that it wasn’t really a knot at all, but rather a huge chunk of dried, prickly grass, perhaps two hands wide. I reached down and tugged at it, but it just stuck. I pulled with all my might and it came free, and I tumbled rearward in the canoe, landing most ignobly on my backside.
“Sit still, Jane,” Jehu ordered from the bow. “You’re rocking the canoe.”
I sighed in relief and settled myself down again.
And immediately felt a cold rush of water soaking through my skirts.
I observed with alarm that the place where the hunk of grass had been was now a large hole—and water was flowing through.
“Oh dear,” I said under my breath.
I looked around desperately for anything to stop the leak, and finally yanked the blanket from my pack and stuffed it through, but I pushed too hard and I heard a distinct crack as rotten wood gave way, making the hole quite enormous.
“Jehu,” I said in a cautious voice.
“Yeah?”
“There seems to be a hole in the canoe.”
“That’s okay,” he said absently, his eyes scanning the river ahead for obstructions. “We patched it with grass before we left.”
“Yes, but you see,” I said nervously, “I just removed the grass.”
“What?” he shouted, whirling around to stare at me and nearly dropping his paddle.
Keer-ukso looked over and gasped.
“Why’d you do that?” Jehu shouted.
“Because it was most uncomfortable!” I said. “I’ve been sitting on it for hours.”
“Well, you’re gonna be a whole lot more uncomfortable unless you start bailing,” he said.
“Paddle for shore!” Keer-ukso ordered, expertly changing the direction of the canoe.
The water was rushing in fast, and there was nothing to bail with except my hands, which I used to no effect. The water was so cold my fingers turned blue.
Quite miraculously the men managed to get us to land before the canoe was entirely flooded. Jehu and Keer-ukso hauled it up on shore and collapsed on the sand, breathing hard from their exertions. After a little bit Keer-ukso got up and went over to the canoe, inspecting it. We joined him, observing the damage. A huge section of wood was missing. It was plain to see that the canoe wasn’t seaworthy.
“I’m sorry,” I said, twisting my hands. “I didn’t mean to sink the canoe.”
“It’s not your fault,” Jehu said with a sigh. “M’Carty didn’t keep this canoe in good repair to begin with.”
“Can’t you fix it?” I asked desperately.
“Too much time to fix,” Keer-ukso said with a frown. “Faster to walk.”
“What do we do now?”
“We have some supper, sleep, and get an early start,” Jehu said, picking up the packs, which had somehow managed to stay mostly dry.
I collected driftwood, and shortly we were sitting around a crackling fire. Keer-ukso passed around some dried venison strips and a loaf of roasted camas, a Chinook specialty. It was very sweet, a
nd I was rather fond of it. Between the fire and the food, I was feeling a little better.
An owl hooted softly in the night.
“Memelose,” Keer-ukso said, scanning the tree line.
“That was an owl,” I said irritably. The back of my skirt was still rather damp.
“Yes, it is owl. But memeloses speak in voices of animals,” Keer-ukso explained patiently.
“I don’t believe Mr. Black is a ghost,” I said firmly. Except for the pesky little detail of him not eating anything. “Or a murderer. Why, he milked Burton for me! Murderers do not milk cows.”
“They don’t, huh? Met a lot of murderers in your time?” Jehu asked, the fire glow playing softly across his scarred cheek. The stars were shining down on us from the black sky, and for one long moment Jehu’s eyes met mine across the fire. And then he looked away.
“I don’t need to. I have always been an excellent judge of character, and I could tell Mr. Black was a decent, gallant gentleman.”
“You met him once, Jane.”
“Three times,” I clarified. “But Miss Hepplewhite says that a first impression is all one needs to—”
“You have a lot to learn about so-called gentlemen,” he said, shaking his head.
“Oh I do, do I?” I drew myself up. Jehu could be so condescending sometimes. “I was graduated from Miss Hepplewhite’s Young Ladies Academy with top marks. I know all I need to know already.”
“There’s more to knowing things than schooling.”
I stared at him furiously. “Well, I know a lot!”
He folded his arms, his eyelashes low. “Well, if you’re so smart, how come you’re sitting on a crab?”
“What?”
I leaped up. There was nothing there!
Jehu laughed.
Keer-ukso roared in laughter, too.
“You are the most ill-mannered, filthy, blasted—”
Jehu shook his finger at me. “Now, now, Miss Peck. Wouldn’t want you to say anything Miss Hepplewhite would disapprove of!”
Still chuckling, Jehu and Keer-ukso got up and retrieved bedrolls from their packs. They rolled them out on the sand and began to lie down.
“Where is the tent?” I asked.
“Tent?” Jehu repeated.
“Yes, the tent. Where we sleep,” I said slowly, as if I were explaining something to a very small child. “To protect us from wild animals and such.”
Keer-ukso said, “No tent.”
“You didn’t bring a tent?” I asked, aghast.
“Tent is heavy,” Keer-ukso explained.
“But we’ll be right out in the open!” I said, waving a hand at the darkness edging in from all directions. “Just look!” It was one thing to sleep in Mr. Russell’s cabin, but it was quite another to sleep on the beach in plain view. “Anyone or anything could just sneak up on us!”
“Nothing’s going to sneak up on us.”
“Well, this is most poorly planned,” I said. “I am going to go search for shelter.”
I trudged up over the dunes and walked for a time. Then, in the distance, I spotted it. Not two hundred yards away was a log cabin.
“Hello!” I called, but no one answered.
I opened the door and peered inside. The cabin had clearly not been lived in for some time and smelled musty with disuse. The roof appeared to be caving in on one end, but it seemed to me it would protect us for one night. There were two rough bunks in its spacious interior.
I reported the good news to the men, who warily returned with me.
“Very old. Probably Hudson’s Bay Company man,” Keer-ukso said, inspecting the cabin.
“Seems okay,” Jehu acknowledged.
“It will protect us from the elements,” I pointed out.
Jehu yawned widely. “Right. Let’s move our things and get some sleep.”
We moved the provisions and the bedrolls, and kindled a new fire. I took one bunk, and Keer-ukso the other, and Jehu settled down on the dirt floor by the fire and closed his eyes. A moment later, I looked across the shack to see that Keer-ukso was asleep, too.
“You can’t both just go to sleep! Someone has to stay awake and keep watch!”
“Great idea. Why don’t you go first,” Jehu said, and then turned on his side.
I heard something that sounded like a snore coming from Keer-ukso’s general direction.
“You’re not really asleep, Keer-ukso,” I said suspiciously. “Who’s going to stay awake and guard the camp?”
“I choose Boston Jane,” he said sleepily.
“Seconded,” Jehu added with a loud yawn. “Just go to sleep, Jane. We don’t need a watch. And we’ve got a lot of territory to cover in the morning.”
There was a scuffling sound from outside the cabin. “Did you hear that? It sounds like someone’s right outside.”
“Probably just grizzly bear,” Keer-ukso said.
“Grizzly bear? But I thought grizzly bears lived by rivers. Do you think one wandered this close to the beach—”
“Jane,” Jehu groaned. “He’s just trying to rile you up.”
Soft chuckling came from Keer-ukso’s bunk.
“It’s not amusing,” I muttered, tugging my cape up to my chin and looking around fearfully. My blanket was still sopping wet from plugging up the hole.
All was quiet for a moment. And then the distinct sound of growling came at me from the blackness behind Jehu. I sat bolt upright.
“Jehu, what was that?”
The growling abruptly turned into soft chuckling, and then full-throated laughs, and soon Keer-ukso was roaring in laughter, too.
“You’re both impossible!” I flipped away from them and stared into the blackness, determined to guard the encampment. My vigilance was the only thing standing between us and certain death.
There was no way I was going to fall asleep.
Was never a prettier girl than Lucinda
Strolling down the aisle that day.
I kissed the lips of my bride Lucinda,
And grasped her hand and swept her away.
The melancholy voice whispered in my dreams, thin as a ribbon, tugging at me, pulling at my eyelids, dragging me up from a deep sleep. There was so much pain in the song, such an aching sorrow that I had to open my eyes.
I looked up to see a rough-hewn roof and warm firelight flickering on wooden walls. Momentarily disoriented, I then remembered I was in the trapper’s cabin. I heard the reassuring sound of Jehu snoring softly.
Was never a prettier girl than Lucinda.
I turned to the voice.
He was sitting by the fire, across from Jehu’s sleeping form, digging a stick in the dying embers. The song was soft, rising like a sad wail on the dark night, dancing high into the stars. His white starched shirt seemed to glow in the cabin, unearthly, and his pale horse nickered softly in the distance.
“Mr. Black,” I whispered, but he didn’t seem to see me.
He kept stirring the coals, the flames rising now, sending sparks high. Was this sorrowful man a murderer?
An owl hooted softly in the night and Mr. Black turned to me, his dark eyes glowing in the firelight.
“It’s always the people closest to you who betray you,” he said, his voice like quicksilver.
And then as he stirred the coals, the embers seemed to swirl out of the fire, flying through the air at me. They landed with biting stings on my arms and legs. I slapped them away, but no matter how fast I put the embers out, more of them landed, burning me, stinging. I slapped them away from my arms, my face, and then—
I woke with a start. It was morning, and gray light filtered in the windows.
My face felt hot and itchy. I looked down at my arms, touched my cheeks, and groaned. I was covered with little red, itching bumps.
Fleas. The cabin was positively teeming with them. “Oof,” I said scratching. “Blasted pests.”
Keer-ukso was sitting up now, and scratching madly at his legs. “Fleas are most troublesome.”
“I didn’t know!” I wailed.
“Maybe water help,” Keer-ukso suggested, and so we all trooped down to the bay and doused our burning skin with water. It cooled the itching temporarily, but a moment later the searing sensation was back.
“If we’d had a tent in the first place, we wouldn’t have had to sleep in that flea-infested cabin,” I pointed out.
“The cabin was your idea,” Jehu said, irritable now.
“Well, you obviously don’t know anything about the wilderness, and I’m counting on you to protect me. We’re clearly not prepared for this expedition. We have no tent, and no medical supplies, and only one rifle.”
“Not to mention no canoe,” Jehu added wryly.
I reddened but continued. “I think we should turn around and go back and get adequate supplies and maybe even some more men. Then I wouldn’t need to come at all!”
“We went over this,” Jehu said, scratching at his neck. “We can’t lose time, and we need you because you’re the only one who knows what he looks like. We might as well get moving. It’s gonna take us a lot longer by foot.”
The morning dragged by slowly as we walked along in silence. The sky was as gray and grizzly as it had been blue the day before. Keer-ukso led us through the winding woods, with only the occasional sound of scratching breaking the quiet. We were all quite miserable. When we paused for a drink of water, I saw that Jehu’s face bore raised red welts from where he had scratched himself raw. He scratched a patch of arm in a determined way.
“You shouldn’t scratch,” I said. “Papa always said that scratching does more harm than good.”
“Thanks for the hint,” he said shortly.
“There is no need to be unpleasant, Jehu.”
He made a disgruntled sort of sound, got up, and started walking again.
I picked up my pack reluctantly and started after them—and that was when I saw a green feathery plant.
What had Mr. Swan said? Toke told me that this plant is quite therapeutic for all manner of skin ailments. Apparently one is supposed to put the leaf directly on the skin.
Wilderness Days Page 10
