by Terry Grosz
The group frequently rode across the tracks of many Indians on the move, but fortunately they encountered none. After cautiously traveling for several more weeks, they entered the last grove of timber prior to arriving home.
As they rounded the last stand of timber before their cabin, Harlan was alerted by the smell of wood smoke from a campfire. When they came into view of their cabin, they saw four mountain men unloading their pack animals in front of the door, as if the cabin were theirs.
“Hello, the cabin,” yelled Harlan so as not to startle the busy men.
Instantly the men rushed for their rifles and stood grimly to greet the newcomers. As if on command, Harlan and the boys quietly cocked the hammers on their Hawkens in case shooting started. The two women quickly peeled out of the pack string and rode their horses to the rear.
Riding up to the men, Harlan said, “Good afternoon. My name is Harlan Waugh, and these here are my boys, Big Eagle and Winter Hawk. The two squaws are Birdsong and Autumn Flower. Who might ye fellers be?”
For a long moment none of the strangers said anything. Finally, a short man with a massive beard said, “We be the rightful owners of this here cabin.”
“How can that be?” exclaimed Harlan with a lightness not betraying the seriousness in his voice or the plain damn meanness rising in his guts at being displaced from his own cabin by these four strangers. “The boys and I built this here cabin last year. We have our cache nearby and claim these here beaver trapping grounds as ours.”
“We was here’n first,” answered the short, bearded one, “and intend to stay!”
Stepping off his horse as if he were going to a tea party, Harlan strode over to the obvious leader of the group and said, “Look, this is our cabin, and I can prove it. My name is carved on an inside rafter with the year of Our Lord beside it. Seem’ that is the case, I don’t see how you folks can claim this property as your’n.”
“I wouldn’t know, seein’ I can’t read, and neither can my partners,” snarled the short one, in the same breath clutching his rifle even tighter as if he was considering using it.
Suddenly Martha the bell mule let out a bray, and soon the sounds of many horses’ hooves could be heard approaching from the timber below the cabin. Joe Meek and about twenty Snake warriors came into view, and the four men in front of Harlan, fearing an attack, broke and ran for the cover the cabin offered.
Reining up alongside Harlan, Meek called loudly, “Welcome back home, you three.” Then, looking again, he said with a big grin, “Well, I see you haven’t traded off them ‘squars’ you picked up at the rendezvous yet. We came to see if you and your’n might want to go and make some meat. But I see you have some guests.” His grin turned to puzzlement over the presence of four strangers.
“Well, not really,” said Harlan. “They are claiming the cabin as theirs even though I told them we built it and it is mine.”
A cloud flew across Meek’s face, and he quickly dismounted. Boldly walking up to the front door of the cabin, he yelled for the men to come out before things got messy. Soon the four newcomers exited the cabin with their rifles held at the ready.
“You boys is in the wrong cabin. This here cabin belongs to that man and his youngsters. They built it last year and trapped here all fall and spring. Besides, this is Chief Low Dog’s territory of the Snake Nation, and he ain’t given any of you permission to trap in this here area like he has Harlan and the boys.”
“Who the hell are you, coming in here and giving orders like you belong?” blurted out the short one, pissed at this new intervention.
“I am Joe Meek, the meanest son of a bitch in the valley, part he-wolf and part wolverine. I am the best-shooting beaver-trapping son of a gun to walk these here parts, and if you folks don’t move on peaceable-like, these here braves of Low Dog’s will have to convince you that to lose your topknot over a cabin that ain’t your’n ain’t in your best interest!”
Nervously looking over the odds now confronting him, the short one said, “Well, I guess we could move on if’n you put it that-a-way. Come on, boys, let’s pack our critters and skedaddle. This here ain’t no place for us to touch down if’n we ain’t wanted.”
With that, the four began packing their animals and a short time later disappeared into the timber heading farther north. Again, Big Eagle instinctively felt as he had about the three fur buyers from the rendezvous: they would see these four skunks again, and the outcome wouldn’t be pretty...
“Seems like I owe you and our friends the Snakes another one,” said Harlan with a big grin of appreciation for Joe once again backing his play. “I need to pass on making meat with you folks this time. As you can see, we just arrived and need to unload and set up camp in preparation for the fall. If the need still exists in about a week, come on by and if nothing else, we can share some rum and talk about old times.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Meek. “See you and your’n in a few.”
With that and a wave of the hand, off they rode to cause the nearest buffalo some grief.
Chapter Fourteen
Fall Fixin’s and Something in the Air
For the next two weeks, life was hectic around the cabin, to say the least. First and foremost, another cabin had to be built to accommodate the women. Everyone worked at felling timber, limbing logs, and hauling them with the horses to a site alongside the first cabin.
Then the logs were trimmed to size, notched, and put up to a wall height of seven feet. Once the walls were up, windows were cut out, a front and back door were framed, and shooting slots were constructed along all sides from whence danger might come. The windows were covered with rolled-up tanned deer hides that could be raised to let in a little light and reinforced with log shutters on the inside in the event of an attack.
Log plugs inserted into the shooting slots from the inside allowed the cabin to stay warm but could easily be withdrawn if they needed to run the rifle barrels out and shoot. Last was the roof, which went up in two days and was covered with two feet of dirt for insulation and resistance against fire from the outside.
As soon as the cabins were cleaned out and made ready, the women and Autumn Flower’s baby moved into one, and the men occupied the other. Then, everyone worked to make sleeping platforms, chairs, benches, and tables from the leftover materials at hand. In addition, both cabins were used to store the fast accumulating dried meats and freshly tanned hides from the animals they were able to hunt close at hand, along with the contents of the cache that they had left behind when they departed for the rendezvous.
Next they cut dry timber, hauled it to the cabins, and placed it in such a manner that the firewood was readily available for use during the harsh winter months. But they also placed it so that it could not be easily used by outsiders as cover from which to fire on the cabins.
Then the serious rush was on to make the rest of their winter’s meat. Harlan, Big Eagle, and Winter Hawk brought elk, mule deer, and moose into camp daily. The two women skinned out the animals, saving the hides, and cut the meat into strips for drying on the racks in front of the cabins. As the meat smoked and dried, Harlan and the boys packed their tree cache house to the roof with the nutritious food in tanned deerskin bags.
They took and prepared over thirty animals in this fashion, with the bones and offal packed off to the end of the meadow for disposal by the critters. Then, the dangerous part of making meat occurred as they went after the ever-present black and grizzly bears for the wonderful sustenance they offered. The straight-shooting mountain man and boys slew six grizzly and nine black bear without incident. All of the bears were rolling with winter fat, which they removed and rendered for its many valuable properties. The fat would be used for cooking oil, rubbed on the body to repel mosquitoes, and smoothed into hair before braiding, along with its many medicinal uses.
The hides were tanned by the women for the fur trade, and the claws were saved in a large deer-hide bag for trading with those wanting a bear-claw necklace, the
ultimate sign of power. Last but not least, the shoulders and hams from these animals were smoked and hung from the rafters of the cache house and both cabins. They would be used for deep-winter fare or to feed large numbers of company such as their friends, the Snakes, when they came to visit.
The entire clan took the horses and mules onto the nearby shortgrass prairies and, after a day of searching, located a small herd of buffalo. A successful stalk and shoot by the man and boys yielded fifteen animals, which were cut up and loaded onto the pack animals. Groaning under the weight of the fresh meat, the mules showed their displeasure every step of the way by balking, trying to roll with their loads, braying, and generally being hammerheads as the horses looked on in feigned indifference.
It took many beatings of the mules with switches to convince them to move on, and soon the camp hove into sight. Realizing they were almost home, the complaining mules again tried to roll with their packs or throw them off with a violent shake of their bodies. The whips were once again administered until calm again reigned in the pack string.
Once unloaded, however, all the pack animals, to rid themselves of the meat smell and sweat and needing a good scratch, rolled in the meadow time and time again to show their pleasure at being freed from their loads.
However, for the humans, the work had just begun. Smoky fires were lit, and hundreds of pounds of rich buffalo meat were hung on the drying racks as fast as they could work. They needed to manage the smoking quickly in order to minimize the amount of fly-blown meat. They staked out the hides in the sun, fur side down, and soon were defatting and the skins and scraping off any leftover meat that could cause them to spoil in the drying process.
Soon fifteen buffalo hides were lightly salted and slowly drying in the sun, and the smell of a large pot of buffalo stew graced the air. Then the smell of coffee and hot Dutch-oven biscuits filled their nostrils, announcing dinnertime for the tired but pleased group. It seemed as if so much food had never flown down hungry gullets as fast as it did that evening.
During that momentous feast and celebration of successfully making meat—and rich buffalo meat at that—Harlan noticed something unusual. During that special meal, Birdsong sat beside him and spooned a succulent piece of meat onto his plate. Then, without a word, she quietly ate her dinner sitting beside him as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.
Well, something had occurred that would have lifelong consequences. Harlan had admired Birdsong from the very first time he had laid eyes on her. She was tall, lithe, and dark-eyed, with long black hair that fell loosely around her shoulders and over her breasts. She had a winning smile and a personality to match. Yes, Harlan had noticed her—and the gesture she bestowed on him that evening by the campfire did not go unnoticed by anyone!
The next few days continued to be jammed with work. But during that time, Birdsong hardly ever left Harlan’s side, or he hers. He enjoyed her company in everything they did, and it was apparent to all that she enjoyed his as well.
Remembering his pledge on the long ride back from the rendezvous, Harlan took time during this busy period to work with the women on the correct use of a knife in self-defense as well as sharpening and general care.
Then came lessons in the loading and shooting of the pistols and the use of the Hawkens. At first, there was some awkwardness for the women, especially with their brothers closely watching their every move. However, Harlan’s seriousness made the women realize that when the trappers were away, they would have to fend for themselves. Be the danger from a varmint or a man, they would have to be able to defend themselves without any hope of relief in a land that could kill in a heartbeat.
That seriousness paid off handsomely. The women caught on rapidly, and after two days of intense training under Harlan’s watchful eyes, they could shoot the pistols very well and the Hawkens reasonably well. Happy with the results of his instruction, Harlan felt that the women could kill anyone needing killing out to fifty yards with the Hawkens and at close range with the pistols.
In close with the knife, anyone messing around with the women when he shouldn’t would be quickly disemboweled. He also discovered that he rather enjoyed holding Birdsong close as he provided instruction with the Hawken. From the way she backed into him during those times, it was obvious that she enjoyed being held by Harlan as well. Those close moments were also noticed by two very happy boys.
The next day was spent in reloading drills for the pistols and rifles, and by noon the women had it down pat. Harlan sat back with a smile and felt confident that the two women could care for themselves if given a fair chance. However, if they are ambushed, well, that could be another story, he thought darkly.
The huge pile of remaining work took his mind off Birdsong, but just for a short while. Preparing for the long fall trapping season, the group shod the horses and mules who needed it, repaired the tack, and cast many bullets for the big Hawkens from their stash of lead pigs. Then clothing was repaired and winter clothing fashioned, and the women made heavy winter coats for the men from buffalo hides.
Finally, dense fires smoked the beaver traps to rid them of any human scent. As in times past, they opened a gap in a small nearby beaver dam and set four traps to catch the beaver hell-bent on fixing the dam. The next day, the man and boys skinned and hooped out the four beaver caught at the breached dam. Into the small glass bottles that hung from their necks went the valuable oil from the beavers’ castors. This oil, placed on a stick near a trap, would lure unsuspecting beaver to their final moments in a steel trap before they drowned attempting to escape.
Next, the three began scouting to see where they would begin their trapping season. The streams to the south had been almost cleaned out of beaver during their first year of trapping. Knowing the few remaining animals could not sustain their trading needs, they traveled a few miles north of their camp, where they soon discovered many more dams and streams loaded with the furry creature.
They decided that was where they would start their fall trapping season, with all three of them trapping together for safety. They returned to their camp to make final preparations for the many rewards and close calls, not to mention a small mountain of furs, of the upcoming 1832 rendezvous.
***
After a hearty breakfast, the three men left for the first day of their fall trapping adventures. They left behind two heavily armed women who could now shoot and defend themselves, along with a baby who represented new hope for the group. The day has dawned well, thought Harlan as he and the boys began another adventure together as a family in the sometimes deadly wilderness they loved.
Kneeling by a small beaver dam in order to set his trap, Harlan noticed the track of a very large grizzly. Quietly pointing it out to the boys, he signed for them to cock the hammers on their rifles in case he got ambushed as before. Once was enough, he thought as he skillfully set his last trap, all the while keeping a sharp eye peeled on the brushy areas alongside the beaver pond.
That particular day he and the boys set out eighteen traps. Any more than that and the mules would be overloaded with beaver carcasses and the men would have to work far into the night skinning and hooping their catches. Quietly and carefully, the three moved farther north, scouting out new trapping territory for the morrow. What they saw pleased them greatly. The land was alive with game, and the beaver ponds and streams were crawling with the sought-after furry rodents.
“With a little luck we should be able to take at least two hundred beaver this fall,” calculated Harlan with a wide grin.
On the way back the three discovered that over half of their traps already contained beaver! Removing the trapped animals and resetting the traps, Harlan smiled as the boys skillfully provided cover against any bear attack.
***
Rounding the spit of trees prior to entering camp, the men observed the women tending the last of the meat-smoking fires as they starting cooking the evening dinner. As they came closer, they could see that in addition to carrying a long-bl
aded buffalo- gutting knife in her sash, each woman now wore a pistol as well.
Harlan grinned back at the boys over the successful instruction in how to stay alive in a beautiful but dangerous country. The return grins from the boys showed their pleasure with Harlan for training their sisters and giving them the chance to defend themselves against being killed or captured again.
Dismounting in the area set aside for skinning the beaver, the men greeted the women and started untying the beaver carcasses from the mules. Birdsong came over to help, and as she walked by Harlan she gently brushed her hand across his shoulders. Without any thought, Harlan reached out and gathered her into his strong arms.
Facing her, he gently kissed her lips, feeling the firmness of her breasts through his shirt and a trembling of her entire body. After the kiss, she moved back a few inches and looked into his gunmetal-steel-blue eyes. In her black eyes, Harlan could see a thousand years of wisdom. In his, she saw strength yet gentleness, courage governed with wisdom, and a will to survive and experience life such as she had never seen in any man. It was at that moment that the two of them quietly dedicated their lives to each other. It was also a happy moment for the others because now they would be a real family once again.
***
Fall trapping went as Harlan expected. They caught over two hundred beaver, not to mention killed another five rolling-fat grizzly bears before the snow flew. There was another happening as well.
Autumn Flower moved in with the boys, and they delighted in being that close once again to their younger sister and her baby. Harlan and Birdsong moved into the other cabin and began life together as man and wife.
Chapter Fifteen
Another Deadly Surprise, Followed by a Surprise of a Unique Kind
