The Adventurous Life of Tom Iron Hand Warren: Mountain Man (The Mountain Men Book 5)

by Terry Grosz

  Then it was off for more riverboat business at hand. That afternoon, Tom and White Eagle visited several supply houses and established lines of credit at each facility so when the day came for loading his new keelboats with provisions, there would be no unnecessary delays. By then it was suppertime and White Eagle and Tom returned to “Mrs. Davis’s Boarding House and Eatery” for their evening meal. When they did, one guess as to who was waiting there for them but the four York brothers and one Jim Tweedle, all with sheepish looks spread clear across their faces and a mess of downcast and embarrassed-looking eyes…

  During supper as it turned out, the five men had a tall but sad tale to tell. They were all dead broke after trapping for a year, amassing a huge pile of valuable fur and pelts and after only spending one day in the ‘sin bins’ of St. Louis, had lost it all! They had gone to a local saloon and whorehouse and had enjoyed themselves apparently immensely. Then fully into their ‘whiskey cups’, they got to gambling at a gaming house and losing like there was no tomorrow. Then foolishly, they kept betting more of their hard-won fur monies, doubling down and trying to get back what they had just lost but in the end, all five of the men had lost everything! That led to accusations and recriminations of the house being crooked and having cheated them out of their fur monies. Soon several punches had been thrown over the cheating accusations and shortly thereafter the five fur trappers found themselves not only dead broke but in the local ‘hoosegow’ for fighting and being drunken, disorderly and for smelling so badly!

  If their tale of woe hadn’t been so sad, it would have been almost laughable. That evening, Tom purchased their evening meal since his fellow trappers were now dead broke and in the process, he got one hell of a good idea. After mulling over his idea for a few moments while eating two pieces of Mrs. Sylvia’s wonderful homemade apple pie served by the petite Miss Betsy, Tom verbally approached the five men with his ‘off the cuff’ idea. He did so as they were collectively in the process of demolishing several pies because they had not been fed anything while spending their evening in jail the evening before...

  “I have an idea and would like to discuss it with you five ‘jail birds’,” said Tom with a smile. With those words uttered by Tom, he got another five sets of sheepish-looking, apple pie-smeared grins from his fur trapper friends. “Here is what I am going to be doing in the future. Back at Fort Union, I took at their recommendations, the money earned by Old Potts, Big Foot, Crooked Hand and myself through several years of trapping successes kept here in St. Louis by the fur house, and am investing a portion of it into purchasing two keelboats. With those boats I planned on going into the shipping business supplying provisions to those upriver on the frontier and at Fort Union.”

  Letting that announcement sink in, Tom then said, “Today White Eagle and I made a down payment on two keelboats and spent the rest of the day lining up lines of credit at two local supply houses so when it is time, I will load those boats up with the type of provisions that are needed on the frontier, head upstream and sell those goods to McKenzie at Fort Union. I made that deal with McKenzie because he was not happy with either the service or the costs associated with his current keelboat operators, namely one Mike Fink, who operates here from out of the St. Louis area. The one and same Mike Fink that White Eagle and I almost had a deadly run-in with our first night here in this very same eatery. In fact, if it hadn’t been for the help from Mrs. Davis’s two built like bull buffalo-sized sons, Clifton and Thomas, I am not sure White Eagle and I would have been here today because there were seven of them and only the two of us.”

  “Lastly, McKenzie, in light of our supply agreement, sent down with me a packet of letters of credit concerning our previous earnings with Old Potts and company as trappers, and a request that the fur house drop Mike Fink as their annual Fort Union supplier with his keelboats and employ us in their stead,” advised Tom. By now with all that had been said, the five friends had stopped wolfing down the best pies they had eaten in years and were raptly listening to what Tom had to say.

  “With all of that information in mind, here is my proposal to you guys. In order to successfully operate both boats and a ground crew leading pack strings up through Indian Territory while I am sailing alongside upriver, I need a number of good and experienced men that I can trust. If you guys are interested, I could use all five of you as my partners in this venture. I would need another boat ‘captain’ along with me and a damn good crew to take the valuable horse and mule strings upriver with us. Then each night we would come ashore from the boats and the ground crew herding the pack animals along the river will have previously set up camp and have meals ready for us.”

  “Then once we get to Fort Union, we can sell our horses and mules to McKenzie for his Company Trappers and the Indians to buy, offload and sell our goods from the boats and then take all of their accumulated furs back downstream to Astor’s fur house in St. Louis. But I can’t do all of that without a good and trusted crew. That is why I suggested taking in all of you ‘pie-faces’ as my partners. What do you have to say to that proposal, especially in light of the fact that you guys don’t like staying in the local jail?” said Tom, with his characteristic big ole grin the men had come to know so well.

  The five men, all with mouths still full of pie and not chewing at that point, finished what they had in their mouths and then began excitedly talking among themselves. It was apparent from all the talk flying back and forth that they felt they were kind of backed into a corner concerning their now-bleak futures there in St. Louis. They had already spent or lost all of their money from a full year’s trapping up on the frontier. Now they were dead broke and did not have any ‘stake’ on where to go and try anything else, so they kind of had trapped themselves. However, from all the energetic talk flying back and forth, Tom could see that the men trusted him and figured teaming up for another venture out on the frontier appealed to all of them, especially in light of the fact they already had a gutful of city life, St. Louis style...

  Soon Tom’s idea had borne fruit among his ex-trapper friends. All five men decided to ‘re-up’ with Tom and ‘throw their hats wholeheartedly into the ring he was proposing’! Soon, all the men were excitedly talking all at the same time about their next set of adventures and how to best ‘get it done and get on their ways’ with life. That was all except for White Eagle. He was helping himself to his fifth piece of Mrs. Sylvia’s great homemade pie and keeping Miss Betsy busy delivering the same to the men’s table.

  For the next two months the men worked in concert on their newest venture, and found the tasks lying before them rather daunting when it came to starting up a new business basically unknown to all of them, being trappers and all. Splitting up into smaller crews, one crew began purchasing quality horse and mule herds for the trip northward. That same crew saw to making sure all the horses and mules were properly shod for the trip, broken to ride, lead or pack, and that all the appropriate pack and riding saddles had been purchased and fitted to their respective animals. Another crew began purchasing and setting aside supplies to be carried by the land and horse crews, so they could provide sleeping and feeding resources to the boat and cordelling crews at the end of each day’s travels. Another crew saw to the procurement of provisions to be loaded and carried by the huge 75-foot keelboats for sale up on the frontier at Fort Union once the time came to shove off upriver. Finally, all the men together, after advertising in the local paper of the forthcoming keelboat spring trip to Fort Union, began selecting the men needed for manning the boats and comprising the needed 40 men for the two keelboat cordelling crews.

  As the boats neared completion, Tom and White Eagle attended to last minute details and supervision, and to personal structure changes or improvements. For one, Tom had installed swivel guns mounted on each boat’s bow and stern and one atop the roof. At first, most everyone working along the docks and wharves, upon seeing the large bore, brass swivel guns mounted on the boats, laughed at the newcomers to the keelboat
business. Then word began trickling in from various returning trappers of the death and destruction being caused by the aggressive and warlike Arikara Indians up and down the Missouri River on the returning fur trapper fur trains. When that word of death and destruction to traveling bands of trappers returning to St. Louis with their furs by the Arikara Indians along the river became common knowledge, the laughing at the placement of those three swivel guns on each keelboat slated for upriver travel, slacked off and then stopped entirely.

  One day in early spring when White Eagle and Tom were making improvements on the boat’s sleeping quarters, they heard a great ruckus starting up on their particular boat above decks. Emerging from his place below decks, White Eagle appeared on deck first and was immediately grabbed by several men swearing about damned Injuns and was immediately tossed overboard into the icy and swiftly flowing spring runoff roaring down the Missouri River! As he was being grabbed and in the process of being tossed overboard, White Eagle had enough sense to yell out a warning to Tom, who was still below decks working and unawares of what was ongoing!

  Racing up onto the deck, Tom was grabbed by the same two men who had just tossed White Eagle overboard, one on each side as he emerged from the boat’s cabin and then ‘bum-rushed’ for the rail and a trip overboard into the icy spring runoff as well! When that happened, Tom went from being surprised to instant fury befitting a much-surprised grizzly bear in its day bed!

  Bringing both of his muscular and powerful arms together in a ‘thunderclap of energy’, each assailant hanging onto Tom’s arms was brought together like a hammer on the face of an anvil! Both men who had been hanging onto Tom’s arms were immediately stunned by not only the strength Tom showed in an instant, but were physically stunned when they were flung together into each other with such force! That was when the two burly men who were knocked together with such force dropped to the deck stunned. The next thing they felt was their bodies’ extreme shock and reaction when they in turn were flung overboard into the icy waters of the Missouri during the spring flood-stage runoff!

  Then Tom felt someone grabbing him from behind and pinning his arms to his sides so he could not defend himself! Tom was then violently whirled around, struck in the face and stunned by another man standing there waiting for his chance to strike, once Tom had been immobilized!

  “That will teach you, you son-of-a-bitch, for taking away our annual keelboat supply business up the Missouri to Fort Union!” bellowed a mangy-looking river man.

  It was then that the full fury inside Tom rose up and presented itself for all to see. Bending over and quickly reaching down between his legs, Tom grabbed the legs of the man who had been holding him from behind, jerked them upward and then quickly sat down, HARD on the assailant when he landed flat-backed on the deck of the keelboat! When he did, he heard the man behind him who was still holding his arms, have his ribs snap as Tom’s weight smashed downward onto the man’s mid-section! With that man screaming out in pain and now out of the fight, Tom quickly rolled away, ducking a vicious kick aimed at his head from the man in front who had just struck him in the face! As Tom rolled off to one side, he grabbed that man’s booted foot and jerked him down to Tom’s level. Following that move, a single powerful right cross from a fist of a now totally maddened Tom, sent that man into ‘la-la land’ as well! Lunging to his feet and concerned over what had happened to White Eagle, Tom could see him swimming quickly under the next set of docks towards the shore underneath. It was then that Tom was struck from behind and knocked forward against one of his swivel guns! Quickly turning and seeing his assailant lunging towards him, Tom swung the swivel gun barrel in his direction and with a loud “OOFFFPH,” jammed the end of the gun barrel into the man’s mid-section, knocking out his wind! If that didn’t do it, when that man hit the icy river water after being flung overboard by a now truly furious Tom, nothing would!

  Quickly turning once again to face any kind of oncoming danger, Tom finally realized who his numerous assailants were, now observing who was coming right at him in a dead run! Charging his way with an ugly look spread across his face, came the locally feared giant of a river man, Mike Fink! When he did and got into Tom’s range, Fink ran into a set of hammer fists, one of which broke his jaw and dropped him to the deck like a ‘head-shot deer’ hit with a .50 caliber, speeding lead ball fired from a Hawken rifle!

  It was then that Tom saw his guys, the Yorks and Tweedle, fighting with a number of other Mike Fink-supported river men and their friends at the bottom of the gangplanks leading up onto the two new keelboats! Tom, seeing nothing but red over the unprovoked attacks laid against him and his crew, was such that when he hit the docks, the first two men he met saw nothing but stars by the time they hit the dock’s decking! By then, Tom had evened the odds and shortly thereafter, the rest of Fink’s drunken crew who had unwisely attacked Tom and his crew out of pure damn meanness over losing their contract for keelboat deliveries up to Fort Union, were wishing they were elsewhere. Then out of their own pure damn meanness, Tom and his crew of mean-assed ex-fur trappers who had outlived the many dangers on the frontier as a matter of course, threw the rest of the entire Fink crew into the swiftly flowing Missouri River and watched them desperately trying to get out from its icy waters before they got hypothermia and died or floated off downstream...

  Then once again, Tom remembered little White Eagle swimming in the river and ran over to the edge of the dock to see if he could see him. White Eagle was nowhere to be seen! Then Tom heard his voice saying, “Down here, Father!”

  Looking over the edge of the dock, Tom could see White Eagle clinging to one of the dock’s pilings underneath his feet. Lying down on the dock, Tom leaned over, reached down over the edge of the planking, grabbed White Eagle’s outstretched hand and lifted him up onto the dock to safety.

  It was about then that four constables rode up on their horses after hearing there was a riot on the docks next to Tom’s two new keelboats. That time 11 of Fink’s friends and Mike Fink himself groaning all the way, were marched off to jail for inciting a riot. When confronted by the head constable, Tom declined to file any charges saying, “They had learned a lesson and with the swim most of them had taken in the icy river, I figured that was punishment enough.” Both Tom and the constable had a good laugh over the end results of the fight on the boats and docks with Mike Fink’s motley crew of river men. Then the chief lawman took the Fink rabble to the lockup for the night, since he himself had witnessed in part the fighting, and did not need Tom to file a complaint with the city for disturbing the peace.

  With that, Tom and his crew, along with a wet as a hen White Eagle, adjourned to Mrs. Sylvia’s for some hot soup and fresh homemade bread made daily from her ovens. When they did, White Eagle went up to their room in the boarding house, changed his clothes into something drier and then joined the men for lunch. There Tom complimented White Eagle for giving him a warning even though he was en route to an icy swim in the Missouri River at the time. White Eagle smiled outside and inside over his Father’s compliments. Tom did as well, as he was watching White Eagle truly growing into that of a young man and certainly that of a warrior.

  Come the day of departure for Fort Union several weeks later, Tom watched his first boat swing away from the dock and his crew of 20 cordelling men began pulling the boat upriver, as Jim Tweedle surveyed from the top deck his vessel’s progress. Soon Tom’s boat swung away from the docks as well, and he too was en route to Fort Union after many months of boat building, planning and the like that comes with initiating such an endeavor.

  As for the Brothers York, they had left with their pack and riding animals at first light and were expected to meet the keelboats and make camp some 12 to 15 miles upriver at the end of that first day. In so doing, they would have their evening camp set up, supper cooking away and ready for the arrival of the tired cordelling crews walking along the eastern bank of the Missouri pulling the two fully loaded keelboats along.

  For the next two m
onths, the two keelboats made progress up the Missouri River en route to Fort Union. Depending on the weather, the two crews made anywhere from 2 to 18 miles per day of cordelling or poling, and aside from a few horse wrecks and getting hung up on a sandbar or two, the trip upriver was uneventful and without Indian problems.

  Finally Fort Union hove into view and being across the river from the cordelling crews, the keelboats were then paddled and poled their ways across the river and docked. As was the tradition anytime a keelboat arrived carrying supplies, a band of Indians showed up to trade, or a string of trappers arrived at Fort Union carrying their packs of furs, McKenzie made it a point to be on hand and personally greet each and every one of them. That day was no different as Jim Tweedle and Tom Warren arrived with their keelboats and docked alongside the docks of Fort Union.

  “Iron Hand, you old scudder, you made it! Who would have thought? Once you were one of my best Free Trappers and now a river boatman on the Missouri. Also, I see you converted Jim Tweedle to becoming one of yours as well. Well, you could have done worse than Tweedle but only if you had grabbed off a mangy old muskrat and put him in charge instead of him,” laughed McKenzie easily.

  “It is good to see you once again as well, Mr. McKenzie. Say, I have the York brothers across the river with a herd of horses and mules along with the rest of our cordelling crew. I am sure they are itching to get across this river and get into some of your rum stores because we ran out last week. Would it be possible to have your men send your company flatboat across the river and ferry my men and their animals across?” asked Tom.