“My children will grow up self-reliant and able to handle life much better than their dad. I would have never allowed you to bring them under your domineering control. A moment ago, you said ‘like Buck was’. Why did you say that?” Tillie asked.
Mira looked at her hands and stirred her coffee. “Buck’s heart gave out in his sleep shortly after you left and they found him in his room. He died peacefully in his sleep,” Mira explained.
Tillie wiped her eyes and straightened. “Uncle Buck left a legacy of kindness and many people loved him deeply. I will not mourn for him because I will someday see him again,” she said with compassion.
“I’m sorry, I know you loved Buck. I suppose no one would mourn for me if I were gone. I have not one person whom I can trust and truthfully call a friend.” Getting up from the table Mira with earnesty said, “I just hope they find the children.”
Strong winds nudged the train car and whistled through a small crack in the window. Sleet showered the train and stuck to the window by Tillie’s table where icy sleet glistened in the light of the car lantern. Tillie sat looking at the storm and her reflection in the window. In a few days, snow will cover these mountains in a winter wonderland. Could her children survive in such a harsh environment? She had been so close to having her children back and now life’s fragile side reared up to take her peace and joy. Tillie laid her head on her crossed arms and shed tears for all the nights she had grieved over her children. Now all she could do was pray for their safety.
C23 A Winter Ride
It took eight men to place the handcar on to the tracks. “If we can find the broken wire, what do we do then?” Nolan asked.
“Take this spool of wire and pliers along. You can make a temporary splice in the line. Take this box with you. Every few miles down the tracks hook it up and click the key. We will click you back. If you don’t get a reply from us, then you have missed the break and gone too far,” the conductor said.
While explaining the telegraph key to Nolan, Elam walked back to the railcar to let Tillie know what they were going to do. The men secured their packs and rifles on the handcar.
“Hey feller, how you going to see the wire in the nighttime?” the old oiler man asked.
“We should have a bright moon, but if we can’t see the wire against the night sky and these lanterns, then we will stop and click with this gadget every once in a while,” Nolan said.
Shiver and the other two Pinkerton men came over to where Nolan tied the last lantern to the handcar. “Tolivar, Jericho will lead us out tomorrow morning at first light. We can make the last stop by nightfall tomorrow if we push hard, but the train will be gone unless you are able to fix the wire. If you feel the children are working their way back toward Nichols along the track, we will try and work out their trail. We will bring your mounts. When you and Elam get there, they will be waiting for you,” he said.
“Shiver, that is mighty fine of you. Tillie will shorely be pleased. You all better turn in and git some rest. It’s goin’ to be a hard pull a-crossin’ the mountains on horseback again,” Elam said.
The going was good. A slight downward grade headed out of the junction made the handcar sing down the tracks. Elam and Nolan took turns looking up at the wire that rose and fell between the poles.
“This wire watchin’ is bad on your neck. A-watchin’ that wire goin’ up and down, a feller could git sick a-ridin’ this gismo,” Nolan said.
The handcar wound down a slight grade for twenty miles until they came to a black hole in the mountain. Lighting a lantern, they both had to pump to cover the mile before they reached the other end. It was dark between the mountains. The wire had disappeared running a path of least resistance until it came back to the track several miles down the line.
The going got rough making the high grades. Occasionally it was easier to push the handcar up the grade. At the top of one such mountain, Elam and Nolan locked the brake and sat down in the dark panting hard. “The old-timer wuz right. This is murder gittin’ this thing up these mountains but I think we are a-goin’ to be headed downhill from now on,” Nolan said.
The wire was close to the track and easily accessed from the top of a boulder. Elam and Nolan took the telegraph box and connected it to the wire. A few clicks, and they lay back to wait for an answer. “Click,” “Click,” the key sounded. “That wuz a short rest,” Nolan said, disconnecting the instrument.
“Looks like we can ride for a change. We have a grade in our favor,” Nolan said. The darkness did not allow the two to see very far down the mountainside, so Elam climbed aboard and released the brake. Nolan gave the handcar a shove and climbed aboard. The grade was good and the handcar moved on for several miles before it started picking up speed. “We better git this thing slowed down a-fore it leaves the track,” Elam yelled.
“I have the brake on and it ain’t helpin’! If you grab that pump leaver as fast as it's a-goin’, it will break your arm,” Nolan yelled back over the sound of the wind.
“Lean into the curves to help keep this thing on the track,” Elam yelled.
Elam sat on the front of the handcar and pulled his heavy coat around him to shield him from the cold. Nolan did the same on the back, holding on for dear life. For the next twenty miles, the handcar went up and down without the aid of the two pumping and never slowing enough so they could take control in the darkness.
“I hope I live to tell my grandchildren about this ride,” Nolan yelled.
“This wuz a darn fool idea, Nolan, but we are shore a-makin’ good time,” Elam said. Finally, in a high valley, the handcar slowed and finally came to a stop. The telegraph poles were visible in the night, and they found a spot where they could click the station again. All was well there and the two set out to pumping the handcar along the tracks in the darkness. Before daylight they had come to a mountain range and the tracks began to climb again. For a mile, the pump was hard work with little to no downward slope. Just after first light, they stopped the handcar on top of a mountain and settled back to rest. “Time is a-runnin’ out, Elam and I am plum tuckered out,” Nolan said.
Elam lay back against a boulder, his head leaning to one side. His eyes followed the wire from pole to pole down the mountainside. Suddenly he sat up and muttered to himself. Nolan lay too exhausted to move. “What’s the problem? If it’s Injuns, tell ‘em we will fight them later. I’m too tired now,” Nolan said.
“I see the broken wire, Nolan! I shorely do!” Elam said.
Nolan jumped to his feet, and the two men grabbed the wire and pliers. Nolan took little time in descending the mountainside, jumping from rock to rock until he stood over the dead tree that had fallen across the wire. Elam had grabbed the telegraph box before running down the mountain, and while Nolan did the repairs, Elam hooked up the key. Clicking the key, he sat back to wait for a reply. What happened next brought a smile to their exhausted faces. Suddenly the key came alive clicking fast, stopping, then fast again.
“They are talkin’ to each other for shore!” Elam said. For a while longer, the two men sat listening to the sound of the telegraph and sat looking at the long steep grade in front of them. “What you be a-thinkin’?” Elam asked.
“We are goin’ to ride this wild handcar right smack dab down this mountain and let her rip clean to Nichols if that’s what it takes to find them younguns,” Nolan said.
“I spec we better git her done,” Elam said.
They climbed aboard and released the brake. Too tired to even care how fast it was traveling, the men just closed their eyes and hung on for dear life. They had not known it but they had crested the mountain range. The ride from now on would be mostly downhill. After it began to gain speed, Nolan reached over and set the brake, which caused a shower of sparks. By now, the brake had been just about used up. It had minimal effect on the speed of the handcar except to squeal and give off a trail of sparks as the handcar raced down the mountainside.
C24 A Wild Ride
Nora sat in the
dining car, warm and snug, looking out at the mountainside. A frigid wind buffeted the car and flakes of ice and snow stuck to the windows. The news was relayed and her train now sat on a siding. The returning train would be two days getting to their location where an all-out search would begin. The snow flurries and occasional blasts of arctic air worried her. Sitting with a knitting needle in her hand, she worked. Her face was a mask of worry since learning the children were out there somewhere.
Wiping the fogged-up window, she looked up at the mountain that loomed before her. The track drifted off to the side and she could see the ribbons of steel as they circled the mountain on their upward trek across the range. A flash of light caught her attention and she set up and rubbed a broader spot on the window. Maybe the children were up there somewhere, and she had seen the reflection of their campfire.
The next time she saw the streak of light, she knew what it was. Jumping to her feet, she ran to the door and out onto the platform between the cars. From the mountainside, the handcar came screaming down. Sitting on the handcar were two men covered in buffalo robes.
The buffalo robes were pulled up over their heads to keep them warm as they rode the last fifty miles down the grade. But whether it is a woman’s intuition or just knowing her husband, Nora knew it had to be Nolan riding the runaway handcar. People along the station pointed at the approaching handcar, amazed at the scene before them.
There was nothing Nolan and Elam could do to stop it. With the brake fully engaged, the handcar shot through the station throwing sparks up behind them as they passed. The tracks were only a few yards apart with Nora standing a few feet from the tracks. As the handcar passed Nora’s train, for a brief moment, Nolan’s eyes locked on Nora’s. The only thing Nora could do was lift her cold hand and they were down the tracks. Both men lifted a hand while clinging to the handcar for dear life. Then they were gone. As an afterthought, she shook her head as if in disbelief and muttered into the cold north wind, “Nolan, go find the children.”
Miles down the track, the handcar came to a stop on a trestle that ran between two mountains. Below their feet, a deep gorge descended for several hundred feet. For a long time, they sat buried in their robes as if wondering if they were still alive. Stepping from the handcar weak-kneed from the adrenalin rush and the cold, they stood and looked at a stream flowing far below them like a snake. Elam removed his gloves and looked at a smiling Nolan. “Nolan, I done a lot of doings in my life, but I never rode nothin’ that fast a-fore! I betcha’ we done traveled faster than any men alive!” he said exhilarated.
Nolan chuckled, “I can tell you it’s goin’ to be a dandy of a story a-fore I git through with the tellin’.”
“Nolan, we be a-standin’ mighty high in this cold wind. Which direction do you suppose we need to be a-goin’?” Elam asked.
“That be no question a-tall cause them children have three horses and ain’t no horse a-livin’ goin’ to walk a railroad trestle. They must be held up back that away. We done come too far,” Nolan said.
For an hour, they pumped the noisy handcar back along the track neither saying a word. Each man concentrated on any sound or sight that would give them a clue as to whether the children had passed that way. They had passed over several short bridges on the handcar.
“All we got to do to pick up their trail is to find whar the children left the easy path along the railroad tracks to go around a trestle and from there work out the trail until it leads to the children,” Nolan said.
“Then let’s git it done,” Elam said.
In the early evening, the grade was mostly uphill, so they found a wide spot beside the tracks and wrestled the handcar off the track. Shouldering their heavy packs, they began to walk back along the tracks. “This ain’t a-goin’ to be no problem a-tall. The kids will shorely stick to the tracks for direction and we ought to run across their tracks any time now,” Elam said.
Dark was on them when they found the horse tracks. A worried look crossed their faces as they followed the trail to the bottom of a draw and stopped to read the signs. Fear mixed with worry masked Nolan’s face as he put his hand in each hoof print. “This be my geldin’ Banner and this be the big red horses’ hoof. The pack horse is carryin’ a heavy pack,” Nolan said while tracing the boot print of a rundown set of boots. “He has the kid’s horses and their pack. Unless the children are a-ridin’ the horses; he is alone,” Nolan said.
“Nolan, you know them children ain’t with this man. We done followed him far enough to know them children ain’t with this feller. Now which way you want to go? We gotta’ move quick thar be a storm a-comin’!” Elam stated urgently.
Nolan ran his hand through his thick curly hair and said, “I will go after this feller and you do the backtrackin’. You find them children, Elam, and be quick. You find them and make yourselves a winter camp and stay put. I will come to you,” Nolan said.
C25 Worry and Despair
Elam followed the horses’ tracks. The soft earth made it easy to follow. This man was not trying to hide his trail. He was just trying to get out of the country as fast as he could. Night fell and darkness stopped Elam’s progress. He was miles away from the point where he and Nolan had parted.
A trestle offered him the only place to get out of the cold north wind. Staggering but hopeful, he crawled up on the side of a mountain and scanned the mountain range, hoping to see the twinkling of a campfire. The scene before him was of cold shadows and darkness. A helpless, sinking feeling crept into his tired mind. Never in his life had he felt so hopeless. That night, Elam fell to his knees and prayed for help from the Creator of all that lay before him. He asked for peace and guidance in a world where all too often the trails of life were filled with heartache, uncertainty, and doubt. He asked for faith to walk the unclear trails. He prayed for the safety of the children and peace in his worried mind. This one trail through life we all walk alone. That is as it should be. It is a personal thing when you come right down to it. The Holy Bible calls it a transforming by the renewing of your mind when you make your eternal peace with the Creator.
In the other direction, the man Nolan trailed had been traveling hard. He was well mounted on Banner and Red. If he were a true wilderness man, he would be hard to catch and it may take weeks. Nolan made several miles before nightfall. He checked each stop the man had made to water the horses or get relief from the hours in the saddle.
As night fell, Nolan found a crevice under a rocky ledge that would accommodate his pack and himself. Weary from the heavy pack, he made a cold camp and settled down to sleep. For an hour, he lay chewing on a piece of jerky, trying to rest his worried mind. The night hours were torment for him. Unable to sleep, he wished for morning light. Long before first light, he crawled from the warm bedroll and made a campfire for coffee. Sipping the hot coffee, he listened to the night sounds. The trail he followed was several days old, taking him deep into the wilderness. If he just had a packhorse to carry his heavy pack, he could make twice the miles in a day. The pack held the tools he needed for survival in the wilderness. To leave it behind would mean death.
At the end of the second day, Nolan had found two campsites where the stranger had camped. He had hoped the man would eventually grow careless, assuming the man had distanced himself from his crimes. He was camping early and getting up late. On the third day, the wind began to build sending its icy breath across the mountain range. In a few hours, a blizzard would hit and the tracks would disappear below a foot of fresh white powder. By noon, Nolan had narrowed the distance between them. Bending over the ashes of a campfire, he felt the warmth and smiled to himself of the laziness of this foolish man.
A few miles later, the smell of a campfire came to him through the trees. The wind was building and a flurry of snow was beginning to fall. Checking his weapons, he advanced through the thick foliage until he came to the edge of a large clearing. Below him a group of small sod-covered dugouts lined the edge of a long valley. This was a trapper’s winter camp
.
Sitting in the trees, Nolan studied the activity below, watching men chopping wood and dragging logs to a new sod hut they were building hurriedly. In the cleft of the mountain, there stood a corral with several horses and a mule. While others worked, three men sat on stumps around a campfire, sharing what was probably a jug of corn liquor among them. The big red horse and Banner were easy to spot. Tied to a corral fence, they stood three-legged eyeing a water trough they could not reach. It was apparent they had been standing there for a long time.
Nolan considered the situation, ‘Had this man just met up with his friends or wuz he just passin’ through?’ That was a question Nolan had to know before he braced him. Looking around the valley, he saw trails coming from the forest in several directions where men had come and gone from the settlement. Nolan made his way around the mountain, watching the encampment from several different directions with his field-glass studying the settlement and each face he found. Within an hour, he had determined there were seven men and two squaws in the settlement. One man was crippled and made his way about the camp on a set of homemade crutches. The rest had the appearance of being rugged mountain men.
Circling the valley, he made his way into the camp from the opposite direction. Most of the men working around the camp stopped what they were doing long enough to watch his advance and then turn back to the task at hand. It was not in Nolan to beat around the bush for long, so leaning his heavy pack against the horse trough, he washed his face all the while cautiously watching the men around the settlement. The men sitting around the campfire were enjoying their liquor and gave him little attention. Placing his cap back on his head Nolan walked over to the three horses and led them to the watering trough. Banner rolled his eyes at Nolan and buried his muzzle in the water trough.
Winter Crossing Page 21
