Salmon River Kid

by Joseph Dorris

  Samuel froze. Incredibly, the man understood and spoke some English.

  Charles spread his hands. “Do you know of the people who live here?”

  Broken Blade nodded and grunted. “Tukudeka live here. For many seasons the Tukudeka and I trade.” He continued to study Samuel, making Samuel feel more and more uneasy until at last Broken Blade spoke. “I know of you.” He pointed a slender finger toward Samuel.

  Samuel felt shivers up his spine. “How?”

  “White Eagle tells of white boy with eyes of sky he sees. You have eyes of sky.”

  Samuel nodded. “Yes, I was at the grave.”

  “Bad place.” Broken Blade shook his head. “Evil men kill man who digs in dirt.”

  This Indian knew of the grave. Samuel felt stunned. He knew of the Sheepeaters he had met.

  Broken Blade inhaled deeply from the pipe. “White Eagle sees you. At first he is afraid. He thinks you are ghost of his brother. But then he sees you are like the man who digs in the dirt and comes to talk to you.”

  Samuel nodded. “He had a boy with him.”

  “He is Laughing Boy, son of the man who brings life. I know the man who brings life when he was still Sky Eyes. It is said he saved his brother’s life and killed the evil men who killed the man who digs in the dirt. All Tukudeka speak of him. Some of his spirit is painted on the memory rock.”

  “Man who brings life?” Samuel asked, confused.

  “We no longer say his name. Spirits will confuse him as he walks the sky stairs.”

  “He is dead?”

  “He does not return to the people. He must be dead,” the old man continued. “We trade when he is Sky Eyes. Man who brings life is brother to White Eagle. You remind White Eagle of his brother when he was Sky Eyes.”

  Samuel tried to make sense of what the old Indian said. He knew he reminded the man of someone else—someone whom he had known when he was Samuel’s age.

  The old Indian turned toward Charles. “You are not the man who brings life. When I see you, at first I think you are.”

  Charles shook his head.

  “White Eagle asks always of me to watch for his brother when I return to my own people and when I trade. He will be pleased when I tell him I have seen you.” He looked at Charles. “His heart will hurt because you are not his brother.” He pointed toward the canyon. “You should come to visit.”

  Samuel glanced at his father, but already his father shook his head. “Much obliged, Broken Blade, but we are several moons away from our own home.”

  The old man nodded. “Then you will not come to the place where man digs in the dirt? That is good for the Tukudeka if you do not come. The white men bring good things, but soon the shaggy necks and the curved-horns will go away if the white man comes here.” He stood and returned Charles’s pipe. “Good tobacco. Now we trade.”

  Charles traded the coffee cups for a fox fur. Broken Blade tried to give him several, but Charles refused.

  When they parted, Charles also gave him his remaining tobacco. Broken Blade smiled. “Very good tobacco.”

  They packed and rode to the ridgeline before glancing back. Broken Blade had not moved.

  “A miracle they can live in this country without crops,” Charles observed. “I can see why you weren’t anxious to tell anyone. These people wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  “It didn’t feel right, Pa.”

  Charles nodded. “I see no difference if we try to sell the ledge to anyone or not,” he said. “If we decide to, we’d need to properly stake it and record it. Once we do that, there will be a flood of prospectors into this country. They might come anyhow, but that ledge is tucked away. I’m still not sure how you spotted it.”

  “I saw the rocks from the ridge and thought they looked like those near Warren’s camp. I got lucky.”

  “It’s your ledge, Samuel. If it was proved up, it could be worth a lot of money. As is you could probably get a couple hundred dollars,” he said. “Money or not, I’m inclined to leave it.”

  “Then what are we hauling this ore out for?”

  “Might as well. Someone will give us something for it.” Charles laughed. “Home is a long ways away yet.”

  “I reckon so.” Samuel was torn. He knew the gold would pay for good land and a new home. Yet he didn’t want to disturb these people, and now he wanted to visit the man called White Eagle—to ask him about his son and his brother.

  CHINESE GOLD

  Chapter 43

  UPON THEIR RETURN, they said nothing about the ledge.

  “If we were staying around, it might be a different story,” Charles said.

  When they dropped by Alexander’s Mercantile, Scott asked about the placer.

  “I guess that’s yours. You put us on it last summer,” Charles said.

  Scott pushed at his moustache and chuckled. “I’ll be fair about it. I don’t intend to mine it. You two showed there’s some gold there, but not much. If I sell it, I’ll send you something.”

  “We’re going to be around for a few days for the hearing and try to get some traveling money. Maybe we’ll get lucky and Mr. Williams will show up, or someone else will, and buy it.”

  “Maybe. People are always showing up,” Scott said. “By the way, I hear one of the attorneys in the Rescue case just showed up. He came in over the Payette River trail. He could not say enough about that country. Said the grass for grazing in the long valley south of the big lake is unmatched with anywhere he’s been. He can’t figure why we aren’t trying to put a wagon road through there all the way to Fort Boise.”

  Something tugged at Samuel. He wondered about the untouched land to the south.

  “He’s trying to recruit support for it. It would help unite north and south Idaho Territory, ensuring it would become a state and not fragment and become part of Washington or Oregon Territories. I’m inclined to agree. We don’t stand much of a chance making this district viable unless we can get a good wagon road for bringing in heavy machinery and developing some of the mines.”

  Like the O’Riley, Samuel thought.

  Charles nodded. “How’s the elevation? Does it get a lot of snow in the winter, or could someone farm it?”

  “About the same as here, I expect. Not as high, but plenty of snow.”

  “Then it might not be any better than the Salmon River route.”

  “We have to do something, Charles, or there won’t be a future here.”

  “I ’spect so,” Charles said. “Any word on when the judge is supposed to arrive?”

  “As far as anyone knows, he’s still en route. Court is still scheduled for next week.”

  Samuel felt a jolt, thinking about facing Finney and Culler.

  “In the meanwhile, I’ll pack supplies for you, if you need, Scott,” Samuel said.

  His father shot him a look and Samuel shrugged. “Mr. Alexander says for me to call him Scott.”

  “Hell, Charles,” Scott replied, “he’s twice the man most of them around here are.”

  Charles nodded. “I won’t argue.”

  Samuel left to find Chen. He was at his uncle’s store.

  “I’m going on a sales trip tomorrow. Want to come?”

  Chen grinned. “Like old times, Sam. I meet you in morning.”

  That night, Samuel began breaking down the Sheepeater ore.

  “I thought you had enough of swinging a hammer,” Charles observed.

  “I got to see what’s in these rocks, Pa.” He took another swing. There was something about breaking rocks and looking for gold that he couldn’t resist.

  The next morning, Charles packed his gear for McLane’s placer. “Don’t expect me back until the end of the week.”

  Samuel understood. “I’ll try to get in a couple trips packing and selling.”

  “If something comes up and the judg
e gets here early, you’ll know where to find me.”

  Samuel met up with Chen. He had packed Molly with the items Scott wanted delivered. He moved some of Chen’s vegetables onto Molly.

  “That will give you more room for riding.”

  Chen thanked him. They headed toward some of the Secesh placers.

  “Maybe we find a new gold claim,” Chen mentioned.

  “I’ll always be looking. That’s for sure.”

  “Maybe you stay around if you find one.”

  Samuel wanted to tell him he had found one, but that it didn’t matter.

  After they returned and Samuel returned the unsold items to Scott, he visited with Chen and Sing Mann for a while, doing some writing with Chen.

  “I think you’re as good as anyone,” Samuel remarked, after they had written for a while.

  “You teach well, Sam. Thank you.” He put away the papers. “So long, Sam. I go to Sang Yune’s tonight for more vegetables.”

  “It’s late.”

  “Old mule know the way now.”

  After Chen left, Samuel returned to his cabin and resumed pulverizing the Sheepeater ore. He figured he could wash it down and take what he found to Mr. Hinley and refine it. Maybe he would get an ounce.

  Samuel dropped by Scott’s in the early morning to pick up supplies for a delivery to Houston Creek. As usual he asked if there was any word on Williams.

  “Nothing on Williams. I think he musta found something in Florence.”

  Samuel shook his head, disappointed. He still clung to hope for selling the mine before they left.

  He rode out to McLane’s placer and visited briefly with his father, relaying the word about Williams before continuing toward Houston Creek. Late afternoon he returned through McLane’s placer.

  “I’m going to be working through Sunday,” Charles informed him. “As you know, Mr. McLane needs a watchman. You can keep me company if you want.”

  “I might do that unless I can do some more packing. I’m packing everything and anything I can right now for Scott.”

  “Good, maybe we’ll have him paid off.” Charles adjusted his hat. “Sheriff sent word out that the judge is here. He’ll start the hearing for sure on Tuesday.”

  “Let’s meet up Monday night, then,” Samuel said.

  “Monday night,” Charles said. “Good luck with packing.”

  Reaching Warren’s, Samuel noticed that the Chinese pack train was at the other end of town unloading. Chinese were milling about the street carrying items into the stores, including Sing Mann’s. Samuel thought he caught sight of Chen.

  He carried some remaining stock into Alexander’s and placed it on the counter.

  Scott greeted him. “That’s all that’s left?”

  “Yep.”

  Scott seemed pleased as he began checking items in his ledger.

  “I see the Chinese pack train is back,” Samuel observed.

  “One comes in now pert near every week.” Scott appeared uninterested and kept making notes. “More and more Chinamen to outfit and feed, I guess.” Scott peered at Samuel. “You’re doing good, Sam.”

  Samuel didn’t ask if they had finished paying their bill, but Scott surprised him when he tossed him a silver dollar.

  “You could probably use some spending money,” he said.

  “I don’t know what for,” Samuel said. “You sell everything we need right here.”

  “I thought maybe if you head out to Burgdorf’s you might want a swim and a meal.”

  “That mean you have some things for me to deliver out there?”

  “More like I have something for you to pick up. Give Mr. Burgdorf this.” Scott handed him a sealed envelope. “But I also want you to go up Grouse Creek and take this.” He indicated a pile of goods. “See me in the morning for the fresh goods.”

  Samuel packed the items into Molly’s packs and left Alexander’s. He wondered if Chen would want to go. He noted that the Chinese had finished unpacking and were moving the mules out of the street. Sing Mann bowed politely when Samuel entered the store. Three other Chinese were present, having a rather animated discussion, but they quieted when they saw him enter. Chen was toward the rear and appeared to be packing for another sales trip. Samuel wondered why he had not said anything about it to him yet.

  “You are going tomorrow, Chen. Where?”

  He shrugged. “I still have to talk to Mann.”

  Mann and the other Chinese were watching. Chen glanced at them and then glanced uneasily at Samuel as if he wanted to say something more.

  “Come out and look at what I got, Chen.” Samuel motioned for him to leave the store. The others continued watching. Samuel walked to Molly’s pack and pretended to be showing Chen something.

  “I’m going over toward Burgdorf’s. We can both go that direction.”

  “Okay,” Chen said. “See you in morning. Now you go.” He glanced back toward the store.

  Samuel whispered, “What’s going on?”

  “They argue about when it is safe to take out gold.”

  “Is there a problem?”

  “They see men who hold up the pack train last fall.”

  Dudgin and Smith. The thought rocked Samuel. It could not be Finney and Culler this time. They were in jail. “You need to tell the sheriff.”

  Chen gave a blank stare, and Samuel immediately realized that his comment made no sense. The Chinese would never involve the sheriff.

  “Where did they see them?”

  “Where you are going. Over to Burgdorf place.”

  Samuel shook his head. “I wouldn’t worry, Chen.”

  “No, Chinese do not worry. This time, they take plenty of Chinese with pack string when it takes gold.” He laughed.

  “Tomorrow?”

  Chen shrugged. “Don’t know. No one knows.”

  Samuel was torn about telling his father. If it was Dudgin and Smith, they might try to stop the Chinese pack train but probably would not care about him or his father. Likely, they didn’t know they were still here. Nevertheless, tomorrow he would ride out to see his father before heading toward Burgdorf’s with Chen.

  Chapter 44

  SAMUEL WOKE BEFORE daylight in a sweat. He had figured out what was going on. He scrambled from his bed and quickly packed his bedroll. He grabbed what food he could and all the spare ammunition for the pistol. He wanted to travel light but took a few of Scott Alexander’s items—tobacco, socks, gloves, and several lengths of rope.

  After writing a note for his father, he stepped out. The morning was cool, and dew drenched the grass. He caught up Spooky. Molly grazed contentedly. She should be all right, he reasoned. Besides, his father would be back Monday night at the latest as they had agreed.

  He rode through Washington and checked to see if Chen was at Sing Mann’s. He knew he wouldn’t be. Sing Mann tried to explain. “He go to sell.”

  “He was going to go with me.”

  Sing Mann shrugged and spoke rapidly in Cantonese, avoiding any English. Samuel figured he did not want to explain anything further.

  “Thank you, Mann.” He left, trotting Spooky back along the trail, intending to head toward Burgdorf’s. Scott was not at his mercantile, but that didn’t matter. Samuel didn’t intend to make any deliveries. He hoped Scott would understand. The Chinese pack string was picketed in the meadow. Samuel prayed he wouldn’t run into Quinton Dudgin and Ramey Smith, at least not until after he had found Chen.

  About a mile out of Washington, he caught up to Chen. Chen tried to pull the mule off the trail, but Samuel spotted him.

  “What’s up, Chen?” Samuel asked. “You didn’t wait for me.”

  Chen looked at him, dark eyes widening, a frightened look on his face. “You go back, Sam. You go back. I go to sell by myself.”

  Chen’s mule was packed wit
h a few vegetables but not the usual amount, and they appeared wilted.

  “You aren’t going to sell those miserable vegetables to anybody,” Samuel said.

  Chen stopped. “Yes, I am, Sam.” He tried to smile. “These are very good vegetables.”

  “Then I’m going with you to see how you do it. I don’t believe you.”

  “No. Don’t go, Sam. Please.”

  Chen’s desperate look unsettled Samuel.

  “Look, Chen,” Samuel whispered. “I wasn’t born yesterday. I know you’re packing the gold. You’re taking it out, if not all of it, most of it.”

  Chen stared at him, eyes big. He started to shake his head. “Please, Sam—”

  “Don’t worry Chen. I ain’t telling anyone. Besides, there’s no one around to tell.” Samuel glanced around, hoping he was still correct. The sun touched the tops of the far trees. “And I’m going with you. Don’t know where, just yet, but I figure if you’re taking it out, I’m going as well, and there ain’t anything you can say about it.”

  The desperation in Chen’s eyes softened. “We can’t be seen, Sam. No one. Not even by friends. We have to go to Lewiston.”

  “Lewiston!” Samuel exclaimed and whistled softly. “That’s gotta be a hundred sixty miles at least.”

  “Ten days,” Chen nodded. “I have food. Do you?”

  “Nah, I’ll just eat some of those ratty vegetables, if you don’t mind.”

  Chen appeared surprised. “Those are for sale.” He tried to smile.

  Samuel grinned. “Don’t worry, I have some grub.” He turned back toward the trail. “I can pack some of the heavy vegetables, if you want. We can make better time.”

  Chen shook his head. Samuel didn’t press it.

  They rode cautiously, both watching and listening for approaching horses or people. Despite their care, they came into sight of a lone rider on a sorrel horse off the side of the trail. The man saw them and waved.

  Samuel approached slowly. “Let me do the talking.”

  “You always do,” Chen replied quietly.

  “Do not look, but there are two riders up in the trees.” Samuel’s heart began to race.