Dawn of Steam: First Light

by Jeffrey Cook

  What this new monster of industry was – and confirming that it is related to the company set out to oppose us – shall remain a thing for another day. Still, we are quite certain that it was definitely no accident, as certain as we are that their actions are those of cowardly men. Should we encounter them again, I can only imagine that we will take Miss Bowe up on her offer of tracking them or avail ourselves of Eddy's tracking skills, for common sentiment aboard ship is that the world would be a better place for their absence.

  Repairs to the suit have begun while the rest of us recuperate. Sir James, in particular, while not badly hurt so far as anyone can tell, is badly shaken. As such, he has taken to bedrest for an uncertain amount of time. In this, he joins his sister, who continues to struggle with occasional spells of weakness and fatigue since the storm. Knowing the Coltranes, I am certain we will see both about again as soon as they are able.

  Yours,

  Gregory Conan Watts

  The West by Land

  Push to the Pacific

  November 6th, 1815

  44º36'N 110º47'W

  My Dearest Cordelia,

  It has been a grand day. The past few days of travel had been mostly consumed with plans and discussions of readying ourselves to deal with ground travel and the terrible cold of this winter. Much as I would prefer to do everything from the dirigible, it was agreed that we could hardly claim a passable land route without documentation from the ground. Likewise, while a summer passage would be infinitely preferable, we work with what we have. Miss Bowe assures us that a number of possible routes exist, and has led us towards one of the more manageable in her estimation.

  She also gave me some confidence in her knowledge of the area, as well as giving us all a break from the repeated planning sessions. As we approached a region in the foothills she grew quite excited, insisting we all needed to anchor for a time and come down to the ground. She assured us that it was quite safe, and the cold would not be a problem for long. Though puzzled, we dressed as best we could for the weather and most of our number made their way to the ground.

  Immediately I was struck with a strange, sulfurous odor which seemed to hang over everything. It was not overwhelmingly powerful, but all-pervading. Miss Bowe eventually led us to the source of the smell, coming from all about us. There were a number of strange pools of scalding water throughout the region. She said that they were perpetually heated by magma underground, closer to the surface than normal. The pools were amazing enough, and a few of them even openly boiled and shifted on their own, despite the still day. More impressive still were great geysers of water, which erupted violently from beneath the ground in places. Miss Bowe knew them all well enough and kept us clear, thankfully. I was able to take a few pictures to send along, but have to wonder if they are nearly as impressive with little to give them scale. In any case the presence of all of the pools kept the area much warmer than a lot of the surroundings, which I was grateful for.

  Still, the greatest wonder of the day, at least to those who had become accustomed to being half frozen, was still ahead. We had to return to the ship and travel a short distance off our route, but Miss Bowe again insisted it would be well worth our while. When we set down again there were more pools, still smelling of sulfur, but these were merely pleasantly hot, rather than boiling. She insisted they were entirely safe, but heated naturally. Some of the natives, she said, attributed healing powers to these springs. I do not give any credence to any mystical healing, but in such cold climes I can only imagine a chance to get the chill out of your bones would do anyone some good. We separated into the appropriate groups. Eddy and Miss Penn quietly exchanged a couple of ribald quips after it was decided we would bathe in the pools, but any such talk was quickly quashed by more sensible members of the group, and the women went their way, the gentlemen another.

  The scent was still difficult to deal with, but I eventually became used to it. In any case, it was a small price to pay for the chance to literally wash away the chill. I am certain that even in warmer times the water would be refreshing, like a bath that never cools.

  The presence of such a natural wonder also confirms Dr. Bowe's accounts of this part of the near west. He described much of it perfectly. Still, far harder journeys lie ahead. For the moment, after such a day as today, I cannot help but be optimistic. The task ahead is daunting, but it seems a little less so now that I'm warm at last.

  My love, always,

  Gregory Conan Watts

  November 7th, 1815

  45º21'N 111º44'W

  Dear Sir,

  We have had another day of some occasion as we traveled into the beginnings of these great and Rocky Mountains. Maps to this region are included among my notes and pictures. Eddy and Miss Bowe have begun preparing for this leg of our venture, for which time four of us will be quite alone. Miss Wright has temporarily given up most of her trappings of civilization for as warm of clothes as she could manage, for since we need our guide, she still felt that under no circumstances should Miss Bowe travel unattended with two gentlemen of England. I will be documenting our progress here, while Eddy is the last of our company.

  For the first time, we shall have no support from the dirigible no matter how much we may wish it, for they are seeking a trail by which they may easily travel through the mountains. Miss Bowe has provided some information, and according to her, one could eventually travel around them far to the south, but that would put the one in range of sighting by Spanish rockets. For now, it is daunting, but I am certain they will find a route which is passable by air at least as simply as we shall find a way traversable by foot. Miss Bowe assures me that it should be no great difficulty, for she knows a path that leads to the lands to the west. The terrible cold, the deeper snow here, and the weight of the packs of supplies and my camera all make this hard to believe, even if the route is known to her. We have split the weight as reasonably as we can, and the two hunters among us have not doubted they could restock our food supplies. There is plenty of wooded land here for firewood. Water, in the form of these snows, is more plentiful than any of us could ever wish for.

  While on the first of these hunts today, Eddy believes he has found sign of human passage here, though thankfully no sign of the trackless engine. I could not imagine that such a thing could ever navigate ground like this in any case, but I am nonetheless grateful, and do not look at all forward to coming across that terrible piece of artifice again. Once she was shown the sign Eddy came across, Miss Bowe was in agreement. We have set camp in as protected a place as we may, trying to find reasonable compromise between ability to see people coming and protection from hostile gunfire. I fear that despite my military experience, I have been little help, for ever since we put down camp, Miss Bowe and Eddy have been about discussing tactics in a manner very unlike military talk. Here, the lay of the land very much influences their decisions not only of travel, but how we may protect ourselves as we go. There is much about not giving away our position and keeping to locales where we may move around an ambush. There has also been talk of trying to take the fight to them, in the hopes they have not seen us.

  To this end, conditions are even more miserable than previously described. We cannot light more of a fire than a small bed, and even then in heavy cover, just enough to warm our hands and lay a pot within to melt snow. Even then, our experts watch the surrounding region closely to ensure we have not given away our position. I am certain in the future I shall remember this as a most exciting and adventurous time in my life, but for the moment, it is all I can do to not worry about freezing to death.

  Yours,

  Gregory Conan Watts

  From the journals of Gregory Conan Watts,

  November 12th, 1815

  45º13'N 112º38'W

  We have made better progress than I ever might have hoped. Whatever my employer is paying Miss Bowe, it cannot be nearly enough, for she moves through this land as easily as a man moves through his home. The ground is difficul
t, the snow is deceptively deep, and freezing remains a constant risk. Miss Wright in particular has looked constantly most troubled by the journey and the terrible cold, but she has not yet complained for it.

  We also have some bit of help from now being able to light a fire. After the discussion of two nights past now, it was decided that we would not be able to survive the deeper mountains without being able to build a fire, so our only options were to deal with the men sharing the valley with us or to outpace them. While this set of choices was discussed for a time, it was finally decided that while were it either Eddy or Miss Bowe alone, they would prefer to outpace their pursuers than take the risk of fighting, but with the camera and two inexperienced people with them, they would have to take the chance.

  This was a mission on which stealth and position would have greater meaning than number of guns, if they were to have a chance of success, so they found a place where Miss Wright and myself could take cover, with only one easy avenue of approach that I could defend us for a time at least. Miss Wright had one of the pepper-boxes as well, but had barely ever handled a gun before.

  They left an hour before dawn, cautioning us once more to start no fire, no matter how cold we became, and listen for any suspicious sound. They gave us a word by which we might recognize their return. I will say here that nothing so makes one aware of every slightest sound of a wooded area as being told to be aware of suspicious sounds. I cannot estimate how many times myself and Miss Wright startled, and she nearly screamed some few times at what we eventually deemed to be nothing. It is fortunate that we did not have to use our guns, for I am certain my fingers were too cold then to find the trigger, but I know I reached for my pistol a number of times.

  I do not know how long we huddled nervously amidst our blankets and thick clothing, jumping at the sounds of the woods and trying not to imagine the worst of scenarios, but the sun was not too far up in the sky when the sound of shooting began. I believe the first thing I heard was the sharp crack of Eddy's prized rifle, but cannot be absolutely certain. Though our woodsmen have not spoken much of what occurred, I would like to think they found the men trying to locate us and whatever location they'd chosen for an attempt at ambush before they were sighted themselves. They have confirmed that they were not native men, and they are certain that it was to be an ambush. Soon after that first shot, many more followed. There must have been a dozen men at least, or they were armed with variations upon repeating pistols as we have been. I was able to distinguish the difference between the thunder of musket fire apart from the sharp snaps of Eddy's rifle, picking out his shots from theirs, and at least confirming he was still alive. Only some few shots into the exchange, the screaming began, with shouts of commands mixing with shouts of pain, both from many sources. It seemed the enemy was quite confused to have been found and confronted as they were, and perhaps they had thought we would not find sign of them.

  The two returned together, giving the password that we should know it was them and let them approach. Even so, I almost attempted to fire out of nervous reflex, fumbling for the gun, for I had not at all heard either of them until they shouted out the password. It is possible that even for all the precautions we have taken, they could have gotten back into camp without our notice. Miss Bowe was a terrible sight, bloody, though I saw no wound on her, and as dark and intense as I have ever seen her. I know it had to be done lest they ambush us with greater numbers, advantageous ground, and firepower, but it currently still seems a terrible thing to me, to see her in this state. I had quite worried she might seem to enjoy it as much as she had the assassins’ fight in England, but this has nothing of the same feel to it. Pure and simple, this was work for snipers and assassins, putting men in the ground with little opportunity for them to even see death coming. Certainly they knew the risks when they took payment to come after us, but there was no cheer in our companions, just a workmanlike resoluteness to their mood, doing what they had to do in a fight for survival with greater numbers of determined rivals.

  It was not nearly so many as in the group reported to be aboard the other dirigible, of that they were certain, so we suspect that the other airship has outpaced us and scattered gunmen throughout the entrance to every apparent valley they could find in a reasonable range. Had we taken another route, we likely would have found a similar ambush. I am becoming quite worried for our companions as they seek a point where the peaks are low enough or there are sufficient valleys to move the airship through. Should our opponents have found these same spaces in advance, the Dame Fortuna will be in danger of being targeted by rockets.

  They are loath to speak of details, much as Eddy often has a dark humor, and they have spoken of similar campaigns in times past. Perhaps they will do so again over this when it is a recollection, and not our current situation. Eventually, I am fairly certain I will be grateful that they are not sharing much information, even if my reporter's mind is curious, in some dark way. They have shared at least one detail for certain, as it is information we did need for peace of mind, of a sort. Despite that assurance, the news and the look of them when delivering it chilled me almost as much as it comforted me: they left not a man alive.

  November 15th, 1815

  45º30'N 113º55'W

  Dear Sir,

  It has been a terrible struggle against the elements, and even Miss Bowe, though not seeming inconvenienced, has stated that this winter is exceptionally cold and the snowfall heavy here. Had she any less certainty in her course, we would likely have turned back some time ago, for the walk is often most difficult. Some hours we must spend in what caves (some made solely of snow) or cover we can to avoid the wind. Still, she has not wavered or turned back even once, absolutely positive of her route through the mountains. Were it not for this, I am certain we could have spent several weeks surveying this territory and not found a sure way through, and even more likely, we could easily have gotten lost here to never be seen again.

  Hunting, at least, has not been difficult, for game here is plentiful, and we have two very skilled woodsmen providing for only four people. I do, however, worry for Miss Wright. She showed great courage in coming to attend to Miss Bowe, and she is a strong and hardy woman, but this is clearly beyond her experience, and not at all like English or Virginia winters, even at their most difficult. We have twice had to stop for a longer period than we might have hoped in order to allow her to rest and warm herself when she nearly collapsed. Should she take ill, we would have a much greater difficulty on our hands, for there is no medicine and no place of any warmth to go to, and we even lack the supplies for tanning hides and furs that Miss Bowe or Eddy could make replacements or additions for clothing, though they are considering working out what they can so that Miss Wright might have more and warmer blankets. She does not often complain of the cold or fatigue, but she struggles and lags behind, even when Eddy has forged just ahead of her and I with a lumbering gait to better break up the snow and create a trail we can more easily follow.

  Miss Bowe states that we still have some days to travel at this rate in order to emerge from the mountains, and even there, we can only hope we will soon locate the airship soon once there. In the time in between, we are trying to find the best compromise between making haste and giving us enough rest that Miss Wright's condition does not deteriorate. We passed the highest point yesterday, but it is not straight downhill from here.

  Yours,

  Gregory Conan Watts

  November 18th, 1815

  45º23'N 114º17'W

  My Dearest Cordelia,

  I can only imagine that you would sympathize greatly with poor Miss Wright. I know your health has in some times been quite delicate, and you have spent much time abed. Miss Wright, though she still faces her difficulties courageously when she has her wits about her, grew ill two days past. We had attempted to avoid this by taking frequent stops for her to rest – for which I here quietly admit to being grateful myself. While I wished I could be of more help to our trailblazer
s, I was exhausted.

  Initially, she collapsed while we walked and could not find her feet again, let alone continue. We set up camp and built the warmest fire we have had yet, and tried to let her rest and recover her energies. Her fever only grew. We cared for her throughout the night, and Miss Bowe has managed to create her a weak broth that she has been able to keep down, which has been something, but along with tea, is all she is able to handle. Though it is warm, and we make sure to feed her regularly to help ward off the chill, it cannot be enough to help fortify her long against the cold.

  After that first day, when it was determined her condition was not improving, it was decided we had best press on as quickly as we can. Miss Bowe has ladened herself with most of Miss Wright's supplies in addition to her own, and some part of Eddy's. I have taken the rest of Eddy's gear, while he carries Miss Wright, bundled in as many blankets as we can manage. We stop often to let him rest, to fill her with warmed broth and place her by a fire, and to look after her condition. Miss Bowe has shown some talent for backwoods medicine, and while it is hardly a physician's care, she is still among us.