We didn’t stop for dinner or nothin’ like that. Me an’ Marion an’ Homer took to jerky from our bags, while the ladies an’ Carlton et some dried fruit. When it come to be kindly late in the afternoon, we got off the trail a mile or so to a little copse a trees down in a low spot where they was a spring. We’d made between twenty-five an’ thirty miles, I guess. I woulda kept goin’ for another hour or better, an’ so would have Homer an’ Marion I reckon, but it warn’t up to us. Carlton had a rough map with him an’ said we was about five miles south a Salem. He figgerd a shorter first day would be easier on all of us, includin’ the horses, since none a us had been on the trail for a spell.
He went to work on the team near as quick as we stopped, droppin’ they harness an’ wipin’ ‘em all down with a big ol’ towel afore he hobbled ‘em. Homer joined in to help him while me an Marion looked after our stock. Soon as that was done I went huntin’ for some firewood an’ such while everbody else got the camp together. Carlton got out some sugar-cured bacon an’ a couple cans a peaches. That set me an’ Homer to grinnin’ at each other.
That bacon was near done when Homer went to his saddle an’ got out that sack a biscuits he’d bought an’ brung along. Miz Jervis smiled at him.
“You partial to biscuits, Marshal Poteet?” she asked him.
Marion jumped in.
“Miz Jervis,” he said, “Homer Poteet is fair tame unless he’s outa biscuits. I just hate the thought of you ever seein’ him if he runs out.”
“Oh, lord,” I said, “I doan ever want you to go through nothin’ like that, M’am. It makes me nervous just thinkin’ about it.”
“Fresh sourdough biscuits every morning, gentlemen,” Carlton said, “unless it is storming or something like that.”
“Heaven,” Homer said. “I deserve it, an’ I made it.”
Miz Jervis an’ Lotus turned in, sleepin’ on them padded seats in the carriage. The rest of us stayed up ‘til some after dark afore we tossed our rolls. Carlton throwed his under the coach an’ stretched out. I laid there for a spell watchin’ the fire burn down. I was just about asleep when Marion spoke up.
“Don’t git much better than this, does it Ruben?” he said.
“Nossir,” I said, “it shore don’t.”
I heer’d Willie grunt some as he laid down to git a little sleep an’ it set me to smilin’. Crickets come to chirpin’ quite a bit then, an’ I heer’d a little frog kindly squeak over by the spring. I watched a few sparks fly up from what was left of the fire, tryin’ to find they way to the stars. I couldn’t help smilin’ some. It was terrible good to be back on the trail.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
I woke up a little afore dawn the next mornin’. A full moon was gittin’ ready to set, but still left quite a bit a light. I seen Carlton by the fire fussin’ with somethin’ an’ walked over to him. He had a little short handled shovel an’ looked to be diggin’ in the ground next to the fire. I wished him a good mornin’ as he kindly scraped at a little pile a dirt. He smiled at me.
“Won’t be long now,” he said.
“Won’t be long for what?”
“Biscuits,” he tolt me. “They’ve been baking for about half an hour already. Another few minutes I can dig them up and take a look.”
I was kindly took aback.
“You got biscuits buried in the ground?”
He laughed a little bit.
“I do, Marshal Beeler, but don’t give up on me. They’re under the lid in an iron pot with some coals from the fire around and below it. Next best thing to an oven. I imagine that a nice fresh sourdough biscuit or two will help Marshal Poteet get a good start to his day.”
That tickled me some.
“Carlton,” I said, “you have just done all of us a good service. Ol’ Homer can git some dangerous without a biscuit to gnaw on. You may have saved a life or two.”
He smiled at me.
“We try to please,” he said.
I wandered off to the north a ways to tend to my mornin’ necessaries. A coyote started up some south of camp, greetin’ the new day.
It was comin’ light a little bit in the east when I walked back. The fire was some bigger than when I left, an’ Homer an’ Marion had joined Carlton where he was slicin’ up a couple a potaters an’ turnin’ some bacon in a big ol’ skillet. I went over a little ways to the south to where Willie had grazed off in his hobbles. He come to bobbin’ his head up an’ down an’ nickered at me. Once I got close enough he could reach me, he went to sniffin’ at my pockets lookin’ for a treat. I give him one a them maple candies an’ he done away with it right smart, then commenced to pokin’ at me agin’ lookin’ for another one. I knowed the rules. I give him one more an’ he kindly put his forehead agin’ my chest an’ took his time with that one. I rubbed him along his jaw some an’ scratched up behind his ears while I tolt him what a good pal he was to me.
I turned away to go over to the fire an’ durn near run over Miss Lotus. She was standin’ right behind me.
“Best morning to you, Roo-bin,” she said, puttin’ her arms around my waist an’ huggin’ on me some.
“Best mornin’ ta you, Miss Lotus,” I said, an’ give her a little squeeze. “Are ya alright?”
“Very yes,” she said. “I watch. Your horse like you very much.”
That set me to grinnin’ some. “He likes his treats that’s for sure. Would you care to give him one?”
“Very yes! Can I?” she asked me.
“Sure ya can,” I said, handin’ her one a them pieces a candy. “Just keep yer hand flat, put it on your palm, an’ hold it out to him. Willie will take it from there.”
She was a little nervous, but done what I tolt her. Willie took that candy offa her hand hardly touchin’ her skin at all, then went to bobbin’ his head up an’ down while he et it. She giggled a little bit an’ kindly hopped up an’ down a couple times.
“He like me too,” she said, smilin’ real big.
“He’d be a fool not to,” I said, an’ started back toward the fire. Miss Lotus stayed behind to pat on Willie a little bit.
I hadn’t stepped out mor’n ten feet, I guess, when I seen Miz Jervis come walkin’ up outa the east. I stopped an’ spoke up to her.
“Mornin’ to ya, Ma’m,” I said.
“Good morning to you, Marshal Beeler,” she said. “I was looking for a breakfast escort, and here you are.”
That set me to smilin’ some. I helt out my arm to her an’ she took it, kindly chucklin’ a little bit, an’ off we went.
“How are you and Lotus getting along, Ruben?” she asked me.
“I believe she is a wonderful girl,” I said, “an’ I think some high of her. It pleases me quite a bit to see her comin’ into herself like she is.”
Miz Jervis patted me on the arm.
“She’s pretty much in love with you right now, you know.”
I felt my face git warm an’ was some glad we warn’t walkin’ in full daylight.
“M’am,” I said, “that ain’t now, nor has it ever been, my intent.”
“I know that, Ruben,” she said. “I believe you are a fine young man, and I am not accusing you of anything. It will pass once she has some responsibility with the other young women. Right now, all of you marshals are her heroes. You just happen to be the closest one to her age, and the one with whom she most identifies.”
“I doan want to lead her on or nothin’,” I said. “I think quite a bit of her. I hate the thought a makin’ her feel bad. What do you reckon I should do?”
“Treat her just like you have been. This is a temporary thing. It is her situation, not yours, and it will take care of itself.”
“I don’t wanna hurt her feelin’s or nothin’.”
“Of course you don’t,” she said.
We was some close to the fire by then, an’ stopped our conversatin’. My ears was still some warm.
For breakfast that mornin’ we had sugar cured bacon, fried potaters, coffee, an�
�� sourdough biscuits fresh from bein’ baked underground. Homer Poteet didn’t have one thing to bitch about. Marion was grinnin’ quite a bit.
After we et there was enough sun showin’ to give us a peek at some clouds that was formin’ quite a ways off to the west. Homer took notice of ‘em.
“Alright, boys,” he said. “Looks like we got some weather that might be headin’ thisaway. Marion, if ya would it’d be nice of ya to take care of our rolls an’ saddles an’ such. Ruben, you an’ me’ll git the team back in harness an’ hitched up. Carlton, if it suits you to do so, git the fire put out an’ the mornin’ possibles stored up for the trail. I reckon if we go west an’ a little north that’ll take us toward the James River. We won’t git there today, but we will tomorra. We’ll need to keep a eye out on them clouds in case it turns off bad so we can try an’ locate us someplace to go if it comes to storm a little bit. I speck we’ll run across a creek or two runnin’ toward the river that might offer us some cover in case we come to need it.”
All of us, includin’ Miss Lotus an’ Miz Jervis, come to hustlin’ quite a bit. It didn’t take more than a quarter of a hour an’ we was back on the trail, them clouds off to the east gittin’ a little darker, but without no heavy wind. It was just ridin’ the trail, is what it was.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Them clouds had kindly broke up quite a bit by the time they come on us. They still managed to rain some, but only a little bit, hardly enough to even git the grass wet. The goin’ was a little rough on Lotus an’ Miz Jervis. We warn’t on any kind a used trail so the ride was some bumpy in the coach, it just thumpin’ along on prairie like it was.
We kept goin’ the whole day, everbody eatin’ somethin’ for dinner as we kept rollin’. That team a four bays took us along right smart, in spite of the fact they warn’t no road. They covered quite a bit a ground that day, so much that about the time we was fixin’ to stop for camp, we run across the James River. It warn’t the first time that me an’ Marion an’ Homer had come onto the James, but never in that neck of the woods afore. We found a nice little copse a trees close to the bank an’ commenced to makin’ camp. Marion took the tack offa our horses, an’ then kindly disappeared. After things was purty much set up, I headed down toward the river to see what firewood might be handy, an’ run across Marion walkin’ back to camp. He was grinnin’ some big an’ totin’ two channel cats, each around five pounds.
“Fresh meat tonight, Ruben,” he said.
“I guess so. Carlton is just settin’ up the cook area an’ I’m on the way to fetch some wood. You are right on schedule, Marshal Daniels. The cook fire outa be goin’ about the time you git them cats cleaned.”
“How ‘bout some frog legs for breakfast in the mornin’?” he asked me.
I turned away an’ didn’t say nothin’. I could hear Marion chucklin’ as he walked back toward camp.
Ol’ plank.
We et a purty fast breakfast a eggs an’ potaters the next mornin’. Homer an’ me had just put the team under harness when Carlton got a map outa the coach an’ commenced to studyin’ on it.
“If we have a good day today,” he said, “we should make it nearly as far north as Woonsocket.”
“Where?” I asked him.
“Woonsocket,” Carlton said, grinnin’ a little bit. “Woonsocket is a little town on the other side of the James River, forty miles or a little more north of here. From there we will be twenty-five miles or so south of Huron. At Huron we will cross the river by bridge. According to your information, our destination is five or six miles northwest of that crossing.”
“Two days ta go.”
Carlton smiled a little bit.
“And then it happens,” he said.
I turned away an’ went over to tighten Willie’s cinch an’ put on my chaps.
We had some clouds hangin’ around most all a the next day, but never enough to give us no more rain. What they did do was make it some fair cool. I split a can a peaches with Marion for dinner an’ give Willie a piece a one. He rolled it around some an’ swallered it. I never did see him chew nothin’. We made good time, them four bay harness horses keepin’ they pace right smart in a nice breeze comin’ from the northwest. After supper that night, Carlton set lookin’ at his map by the light of the fire.
“If we can get the pace tomorrow that we got today,” he said, “we’ll cross the river to Huron about the middle of the afternoon.”
That there is exactly what we done.
Huron was a bustlin’ kinda place. The river had been bridged for both trains an’ folks travelin’ by horse, an’ we crossed the James with no trouble at all. Marion had mentioned that he’d heer’d the town was some on the growth now that the Chicago and Northwestern railway had come through an’ was fightin’ to git to be the capitol city when the Dakota territory finally got split into two states.
We didn’t linger in the town much, but turned north to a trail that run near along side the James River. We went on for two or three miles afore we stopped by a seep an’ a stand a river birches to have water handy an’ made a early camp. I was just fixin’ to git down off Willie when Homer rode up beside me.
“How’s yer horse holdin’ up, Ruben?” he asked me.
“Willie is doin’ some fine,” I tolt him.
“Why doan we keep goin’ a ways an’ mebbe take a peek at where them fellers is located.”
“Fine with me. You mentioned it to Marion, have ya?”
“Did,” Homer said. “He’d like to go along, but that big ol’ App a his ain’t got much left.”
He reined his horse away then an’ started out to the north on a wagon path a little ways up from the river. Me an’ Willie follerd along.
We hadden gone more than a mile or two afore we come on a little crick runnin’ toward the river. We went down the bank an’ got to crossin’ it not gittin’ even a foot deep in the water. Homer stopped afore we come up the far bank an’ turned to me.
“Stay here for a little bit, Rube,” he tolt me, “an’ keep low. Somethin’ ain’t right. They’s fresh horse shit on the other side a this crick. I’m gonna take a look-see.”
He went up the other side, got down offa his horse, an’ walked away leadin’ him by the reins. I set on Willie an’ let him stand in the water. After all the distance we had covered in the past couple a days, it’d be good for his feet.
I waited on Homer for quite a spell. It was gittin’ on to suppertime afore he showed back up on a trot, crossed the crick, an’ come to where me an’ Willie was waitin’ on the south side.
“We got us a situation, Rube,” he said. “I’ll tell the story once we git back to camp. Let’s hustle a little bit. It’s gittin’ on to suppertime.”
By the time we got back to Marion an’ them, my curiosity durn near had a choke holt on me.
Carlton had just put some sugar-cured ham in that big skillet next to some sliced up potaters when we got back. We dropped saddles an’ put on hobbles, then walked up to him. Marion was waitin’ by the fire.
“Know any more than ya did?” he asked nobody in particular. Homer spoke up.
“They was a couple a fellers on the trail about a mile ahead a us. I follerd ‘em about four miles or so and went along when they turned west to foller a creek. That creek is the one that leads to the place we’re lookin’ for.”
“You seen it, did ya?” Marion asked him.
“Did,” Homer said. “I watched them two fellers an’ a couple more that was in the house pull a buckboard near as big as a freight wagon outa the barn an’ tote eight or ten cages out an’ put ‘em in the wagon.”
“Cages?” Marion asked. “Whatcha mean cages?”
“Wood boxes about two feet wide by four feet long by about two an’ a half feet tall. They was a door in the front a each one that was barred by wood dowels an’ prob’ly a metal latch. I ain’t sure about the latch. I was hunkerd down a fair ways off. After all that was done they put some a them metal loops on the bed a the w
agon, covered it up with canvas, and cinched everthing up real tight, front and back, so anybody they come on wouldn’t be able to see what was gittin’ carried.”
“What do ya figger, Homer?”
“I figger that me an’ Rube oughta be in that crick bed as close to dawn as we can git there in the mornin’. I figger that them two fellers we follerd will be headin’ out to Pierre or someplace to git another load a them Chinee slave girls. Boys, I ain’t gonna let that happen. Afore I do, the buzzards an’ ‘yotes’ll git a helluva treat. It’s a easy trail an’ they should be quite a bit a moon tonite. I reckon we’ll leave a hour or better afore dawn.”
“Supper is about ready,” Marion said, smilin’ a little bit. “Git something to eat an’ turn in. Tomorra could git to be a long day for you boys. We’ll be right here waitin’ on ya when ya git back.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
When I throwed my roll, I didn’t figger I’d git a terrible amount a sleep that night, but I fell into that black hole about the same time I laid down. It seemed like only a minute had gone by afore Homer shook me awake.
“Yer as purty as you can be,” he said. “Any more beauty sleep won’t be nothin’ but a waste a time. Git up, boy. Willie is under saddle, yer canteen is full, an’ I got a couple a biscuits an’ some jerky for us. We’ll eat on the trail.”
Dakota Trail Page 19
