by Bill Bright
Robely Epps said he’d gotten lucky earlier when he went to scrounge up some food. But Asa didn’t believe him. The man was being modest. Epps moved comfortably in this outdoor world. Asa didn’t think there was anything the man couldn’t do out here.
“I can add some of my wife’s biscuits to the dinner,” Asa said. “Fresh baked yesterday. And some cookies.”
Epps grinned the widest grin Asa had seen yet. “I’ll pass on the biscuits, but I’d slit your throat for one of them cookies. I’ve got me a whale of a sweet tooth.”
Epps’s response was crude, but Asa liked the man’s enthusiasm. He returned the grin as he warmed his hands over the fire.
When his back hurt from standing up, Asa shoved a rock closer to the fire and sat down.
“That’s got to be the gentlest horse I’ve ever seen,” Epps said. “Had him long?”
“A couple of years.” Asa rubbed his aching leg.
“I would have guessed longer. He responds to you so well.”
“Picked him up from a friend who trained him well.” Asa stretched his leg out and continued rubbing it.
Epps studied him for a time, then leaned forward and turned the rabbit. He poked the meat with his finger to see if it was done. “Riding accident?” he asked.
Asa stopped rubbing his leg.
“A guess,” Epps said. “When I asked you about your horse, you started rubbing your leg.”
Asa nodded. Once again, he was impressed. He’d spent his life evaluating the intelligence of boys and girls. From the moment he’d met Robely Epps, the man had continued to demonstrate remarkable intellectual ability and insight for a frontier man. Asa was dying to ask him about his schooling.
“Carriage accident,” Asa said.
Epps didn’t appear surprised. Nor did he seem all that eager to hear the details of the incident. But for some reason, Asa wanted to tell him.
“I bought a purebred,” he explained. “Finest horse I’d seen since leaving New Haven. Two things about the transaction gave me pause. First, the price. It was twice as much as I’d planned to spend on a horse. But then, it was the kind of horse I’d always dreamed of owning.”
“And the second thing?”
“He was high-spirited. I wasn’t sure if Camilla would be able to handle him.” He sighed, reliving his indecision. “She didn’t like the horse. Said his eyes looked like he was possessed by a demon. Of course I scoffed at her fear and told her it was the sign of a quick mind and good breeding.”
“So you told the seller of your wife’s reluctance, and he lowered the price,” Epps said.
“Have you heard this story before?” Asa laughed. “That’s what happened. I was like a giddy boy in love. I had the horse of my dreams.” He stared into the fire. “My dream turned into a nightmare.”
Epps leaned forward and turned the rabbit again. Asa waited until he sat back down before continuing the story.
“We’d just celebrated our first year of marriage. And we were expecting our first child. It was a Sunday. Bright. Sunny. One of those carefree days when nothing ever goes wrong.”
The fire popped and spit embers into the sky.
“We were on our way to church. The horse had been acting skittish all morning. I had a devil of a time harnessing him.” Asa rubbed his leg. “We hadn’t gotten far when something set him off. To this day, I don’t know what did it. Maybe the horsewas possessed by demons…You can figure out the rest. The carriage overturned. And when the dust settled, my leg was broken in several places.”
Epps listened in silence, his head bowed.
“That wasn’t the worst of it. Camilla lost the baby—and the ability ever to have children.” He rubbed his leg. “This pain is a daily reminder of my foolishness. All because I wanted a purebred.”
“You love your wife,” Epps said.
“Yes. Very much.”
“I wasn’t asking. I was observing. You love your wife. The way you talk about her. It’s obvious you love her.”
Epps checked the rabbit again and declared it done.
As they ate, Asa couldn’t take his mind off Camilla spending the entire evening alone in a dark house.
Christmas morning dawned clear and crisp. A shaft of sun woke Asa, who had curled up on the seat of his carriage halfway through the night. Every joint in his body complained as he unfolded his arms and legs and walked around. He stretched.
Epps stood a short distance away, eyeing the cave entrance. When he saw Asa, he said, “Was hoping we’d have some music this morning.”
“Have you heard anything?”
“Quiet as a tomb.”
Asa limped over to the hole. “If you can find some water, I might be able to come up with a pan and some coffee from the back of the carriage.”
“I could use something hot.”
While Asa rummaged in the carriage for the bag of coffee he was certain he’d packed, Epps went in search of water.
Shivering was the first thing Daniel became aware of. That, and the fact that his jaw ached from clenching his teeth.
He stirred. Moaned. And stirred again. Raising a hand to his head, he swished water and splashed himself in the face. He sputtered and lifted his head. It felt like it would fall off his shoulders, and if it did, he would make no effort to put it back on.
He managed to sit up. How, he didn’t know. Nor did he remember sitting up. He just noticed that he had.
He thought he’d gone blind, then remembered the falling candle followed by the falling Daniel. The stream in which he sat was a couple of inches deep. He reached around to his haversack, felt around for another candle, and managed to light it.
Rock cliffs rose to impressive heights all around him. He recognized where he was and where he’d been. From down here the chasm looked a lot deeper than it had from on top.
The candle shook in his hand. He was chilled to the bone. He had to get dry and warm—something he wasn’t going to do in this subterranean ditch.
Splashing to his feet, Daniel looked around. The walls were too high and slick to climb. Upstream, the water seemed to emerge from the base of a cliff. Downstream was his one viable choice.
With no idea if it was day or night, or how long he’d been unconscious, Daniel resumed his earlier quest of finding a way out of the cave.
But now he tended to think of it as a quest to get warm.
Camilla awoke to an empty bed. She reached over to Asa’s side and caressed his pillow. It was cold.
“Merry Christmas, darling. Wherever you are.”
There was something about it being Christmas that made the house feel emptier.
She fixed herself a biscuit and jam for breakfast and a cup of hot tea. Then she dressed for church.
Selecting her best dress, she told herself she was wearing it because it was Christmas. But while she was pulling it over her head, she was envisioning what it would look like at Cyrus Gregg’s Christmas dinner table.
She told herself she still hadn’t decided to accept his offer, considering his behavior last night.
But as she walked out the door, Bible in hand, the thought of coming back home after church and spending the day alone seemed unbearable.
By noon of Christmas Day, Asa knew he had a decision to make. They had heard no music coming from the cave for almost twenty-four hours.
“The boy never goes this long at home without playing that thing,” Asa said.
“He could have wandered so far into the cave we can’t hear him,” Epps suggested.
“Or found another way out.”
“Which would mean he’s putting distance between us and him while we stand here.”
Hands on hips, Asa surveyed the road. His heart argued for home and Camilla. But how could he return to her empty-handed?
“If the boy managed to find another way out, where would he go?” Epps asked.
“New Haven, most likely. That’s where he was raised. He has friends there.”
Epps’s eyebrows raised, as thou
gh the idea surprised him.
“Think I’ll hitch up the horse and head on down the road a piece. See if I can find anyone who has seen him.” Turning his back on the cave entrance, Asa headed toward his carriage.
“Is the boy partial to the sea?” Epps asked.
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“He could get a job on the docks.”
“No, he did that for a while. I’ve never heard him say a good word about the experience.”
“So you think he’s going east because of his friends?”
Asa stopped and thought. “He hasn’t stayed in touch with any of them.”
“If I was a young boy running away,” Epps said, “I’d go west. More opportunities. More excitement.”
Asa shook his head. “Daniel is not the frontier type.” He started out again for the carriage.
“What kinds of things is he interested in?” Epps asked, following. “Other than his music.”
“Nothing. All he does is play that ridiculous recorder and work as a shop boy for a casket company.” He stopped. “Until recently, that is…within the last couple of days, he’s been interested in inventions.”
“Inventions?”
“He designed finlike things for the inside of a clothes-washing machine. Impressed a local businessman and a friend of mine.”
“There are machines that wash clothes?”
Asa laughed. “It was opening some exciting doors for him, too, which makes his actions all the more—”
A thought struck Asa. “Wait a minute! Canals! For a time, it looked like he would get a chance to work on a canal. He got excited about it!”
“Canals? Like the Patowmack? Or the Erie?”
“Epps, you’re astounding! Never have I met a man so astute!”
“What did I say?”
Asa smiled. “I know where Daniel’s heading. Not east, but north. He’s going to the Erie Canal.”
“You think so?”
“I know it as sure as I’m standing here.” Asa grabbed Epps by the shoulders. “Thank you! You may not believe this, but God led you here to help me save my nephew.”
“I find that hard to believe. You don’t even know me.”
“I know you well enough, friend.”
“So then, you’re heading north?”
“A day’s journey at least,” Asa said. “If I don’t catch up with Daniel by then, or come across someone who’s seen him, I may rethink it. But I have a good feeling about this.”
“Then we’ll be traveling the same direction.”
“I thought you were going to Cumberland.”
“No, I’m heading to Syracuse.”
Asa smiled. “Well, do you think you can put up with an old man for the next day or two?”
Robely Epps returned the smile. “I would welcome the company. And with any luck, I’ll get to meet your nephew.”
Chapter 22
A giant, gnarled tree that had stood for centuries marked the division in the roads heading east and north. It had taken Asa and Epps about thirty minutes to pack up and reach this fork in the road.
“Are you sure about this?” Epps asked.
“Confident,” Asa replied.
“What if the boy’s heading east?”
Asa turned to him. “Do you think he is?”
“No.”
“That’s what makes me confident the north road is the right road.”
“Because of what I said?”
“Yes, because of what you said. You have the most remarkable insight when it comes to people, do you know that?”
Epps nodded, which surprised Asa a little. He’d expected modesty. “I’ve been told I have a gift.”
“So what are you doing out here by yourself, if I may be so bold? With your ability, you could be a captain of industry.”
Epps scoffed at that. “Nobody does business with a man who has one year of learning. As soon as moneyed people learn I don’t have an education, they hand me a broom. About all I could be captain of is the dust bin. I want more than that.”
Asa saw the truth in what he said. “So what do you do, Mr. Epps?”
“I want to be wealthy,” Epps said. It was obvious by the way he said it that he’d thought about it. “I don’t want to scrape for a living all my life. And the way I see it, there are two ways to wealth: either become ‘a captain of industry,’ to use your words, which is not possible with my education, or become indispensable to those who are captains of industry, to men who have money. I’m not talking about working for them, mind you, but becoming indispensable. Providing them a service they desperately want, can’t do for themselves, for which they are willing to pay handsomely. I find out what that is, and do it for them. Simple as that.”
Asa nodded in admiration. “Simple as that,” he repeated. “Find a need and fill it. You are a most remarkable man, Robely Epps. I wish Daniel had half of your drive and determination. So, tell me, what kinds of jobs have you—”
“Don’t you think we’d better get going? The day’s awastin’, and who knows how much of a jump your boy has on us.”
“You’re right.”
Asa snapped the reins and steered the horse onto the north road. With all his heart he hoped Daniel would have a chance to meet Epps. If Asa had the money, he’d hire Epps himself. But being a poor educator and no captain of industry, he doubted he could come up with the kind of money Epps was accustomed to making.
Camilla sat with her hands folded in her lap at Cyrus Gregg’s Christmas table. It was beyond impressive. Roast goose. Roast turkey. Smoked ham. Cranberries. Yams. Breads and jellies of every description and flavor. Apple pie. Pumpkin pie. Berry pie. Puddings. Candies. All of it colorful and served on the finest silver and china she had ever seen.
As for the conversation, it was as sparkling as the candelabras—with the mayor of Cumberland and his wife, who seemed much too young for him and who was more overwhelmed than Camilla by the dinner and surroundings and guests, the pastor and his wife, the district superintendent for the Patowmack Canal and his fiancée, and the widow Worthington, Cumberland’s wealthiest citizen.
Normally, Camilla would have felt out of place among such elite company, but Cyrus—bless his heart—had treated her like the guest of honor from the moment she stepped in the door. All the other guests had followed his lead so that by the time the main course was served, Camilla herself believed she belonged here with them.
During a lapse of conversation, she wondered how Asa and Daniel were doing in the wilderness. But the thought vanished almost as soon as it appeared. It took a concerted effort on her part to keep up with the conversation and festivities at Cyrus Gregg’s Christmas dinner table.
Logic told Daniel the stream would lead him to the river. He was beginning to wonder if the river was in China.
He was sore from the fall. Exhausted from shivering. His feet were wet and numb. Daniel tried to warm himself with images of sitting beside a fire. Here, inside the cavern, he could not sit and rest. The floor was frigid water. In one place the ceiling had dropped to two feet and Daniel had to get on his belly and crawl. He was beginning to think he’d never see the sun again.
He shuffled through the water, stepping on stones that had been polished smooth over hundreds of years. His head was down. His eyelids drooped. The water sparkled from candlelight.
Or was it candlelight?
There were two hues of sparkle. Yellow and white. The white sparkles extended upstream, beyond the reach of candlelight, all the way to—
The opening was small, but fresh air gushed with the promise of sky and sun. Daniel dropped his candle and ran to it.
He had to get down on his hands and knees to see out. And there it was. The Potomac River, lolling in the winter sun! All of a sudden a ferocious feeling built within Daniel, the kind a convict might have looking through prison bars at freedom. It was as though his life depended upon his getting out through that opening. That if he didn’t get out now, he’d be trapped in this
cave forever.
The opening was small. Too small to climb through. Daniel clawed at the edges and the stream bottom, pulling away loose rock. The opening grew a bit wider, but was still not big enough.
“This is not my grave! This is not my grave!”
He looked around for a large rock, something he could use as a hammer. But all the rocks in the stream were smaller than his fist.
Then he had an idea. Scooting back some, he sat in the icy stream and leaned back, supporting himself with his hands and arms. With dripping feet, he kicked at the edges of the opening.
The kick jarred his teeth, doing more damage to him than to the cave opening. He kicked again. And again. His kicks took on a rhythm. Then the rhythm took on a fury that bordered on obsession, fueled by anger.
“This…is…not…my…grave!” he screamed with each kick.
The side of the opening crumbled, giving way. Not all the way. But it gave, and that fed Daniel’s fury until, finally, a huge section of rock broke loose. Daniel kicked it down a slope and into the river.
He had never seen a more satisfying splash.
Pulling his haversack off his back, he tossed it through the hole and climbed out after it. Lifting a hand to shield his eyes, he squinted against the hazy sky.
He stood on the gentle slope beside the river, unable to see over the rise. A wind flew over it and embraced him with icy arms.
His thoughts turned to getting warm, but first he had to check something. Staying low, he made his way to the top of the rise and peered over it. He took his time about it. He hadn’t come all this way to get killed out of carelessness.
The vista was flat. Daniel saw no sign of Epps. He had no idea in which direction to look. Having become so disoriented in the cave, he had to guess as to where the entrance was located.
He scanned the surrounding terrain a second time. Then a third. A feeling of comfort came over him as he concluded that Epps had given up and moved on.
The relief he felt was twofold. One, he felt safe. Two, now he could get warm.