Charles shook his head. “We don’t need charity.”
“None being offered,” Scott said, appearing somewhat hurt. “I figure we’re square enough.”
Hinley could not quite figure out why no one had inquired about the O’Riley. “You certainly showed that the mine has great potential.”
“What about Williams?” Charles asked.
“Aye. He did arrive a day or so after you must have left. He came in from Florence. He expressed some interest; however, he wished to talk to Samuel.”
Samuel gulped. He had been gone for nearly two weeks.
“He did leave me a ten-dollar eagle and ask that you offer him first right of refusal. Seems he is heading south of the Secesh to examine some silver properties there. He indicates he shall be back through here in a week or two.”
Charles muttered, “We aren’t waiting around anymore. You know what we want, Ray. You settle it for us.”
“Aye, I shall do that.”
A feeling of finality sobered Samuel. All their work of over a year had come down to this. A meager gold placer and a quartz mine that no one would look at.
They visited with others, saying their farewells. Ma Reynolds was near tears and got right to the point. “We sure wanted to see you stay in these parts, Samuel. We was a hoping you’d meet that right gal and settle down. We need some new young’uns.”
Samuel felt embarrassed. “Thank you. I’ll miss you too.”
It was true. He would. Families were not staying in Warren’s. The easy placers were done. Life as a hardrock miner was nearly unbearable. The long hours of work certainly did not lend themselves to raising a family. He was not surprised to learn the Sauxe family had left and that the Osborns and the Manuels were planning on leaving. He felt a bit better when he learned the latter two families planned to homestead near Slate Creek.
Much later, Samuel wrote a long letter to his mother. He shared all that had happened and said they should be on the trail soon.
HOMEWARD BOUND
Chapter 54
THEY HELD ON TO a slight hope that some news would come through on the O’Riley. Charles settled up with people the best he could. Samuel didn’t know all to whom they owed money. They had paid Faust. Maybe they still owed Ma Reynolds or Dr. Sears. He tried not to think about it.
Samuel visited Scott. A letter had arrived from his mother. He shook with anticipation of reading what she had to say but would wait for his father.
At the cabin, he finished powdering the ore remaining from the Sheepeater ledge and washed it down. The gold was surprisingly yellow. He felt the old excitement return as he gazed at its shiny brilliance. He poured some mercury into the pan and worked it into the fines, amalgamating the gold until he had a frothy mass. It was a surprising amount. In the morning, he would take it to Mr. Hinley.
Once more, he walked to the Sweet Mary. He studied the hillside. Had there been more water, the placer would have paid well. He was thankful for having done as well as he had. He was tempted to loosen the water into the box but for the first time decided against it. Someone else some other day could.
His father returned for dinner. They read the letter.
Samuel’s mother had expected them back by this time and hoped they would not be reading the letter. If they were, the family was okay. They missed grandma. The crops were doing well. But the overall message was clear—come home.
“I just wrote Ma a letter,” Samuel explained. “I said we were sorry for not being home, that it was my fault.”
“I wrote one as well,” Charles confided. “She should be getting them about a week before we get there.”
There was not much for dinner, some remaining potatoes, some dried beef, a little corn mush. They would take the leftover mush with them.
Samuel handed his father some coffee. They sat quietly, both thinking about the past days.
“That was a damn fool thing you did, son,” Charles said quietly.
Samuel glanced up, slightly taken aback.
“No man’s life is worth any amount of gold. You even told me that once.” He took a sip of coffee. “It was a damn fool thing—but honorable.” He eyed Samuel. “You know, I’m not exactly in favor of those Chinese, never will be, but it was a good thing what you did for them, and I’m proud of you.”
Samuel warmed to his father’s praise, but he knew how lucky he was to be alive.
“You were a fool, and I’ve been a fool as well. I should have never taken Finney and Culler lightly last winter. I shouldn’t have gone after them, and now that they’ve spent some time in jail waiting on us, I’m sure they aren’t going to easily forget that.”
“We’re safe here, aren’t we?” Samuel was no longer sure. “They were run out of the country, weren’t they?”
“I’m guessing we’re okay. I don’t think they’d try to pull anything where they could be seen. But it only takes a clump of trees or a good rock outcrop, and you’d never see it coming. I didn’t say this before, son, because it didn’t make sense because Finney and Culler are lazy to the bone, but I think it was those two that hit us here as well.”
“Here?” Samuel suddenly felt like he was being watched, being hunted.
“They started seeing gold, and they just kept digging.”
“I don’t like this feeling, Pa, that at any moment, we might be taking lead.” He wondered if they were outside watching the cabin. He wished he had looked around more carefully when he had checked the Sweet Mary.
“We won’t be after tonight. We’re done. We got your ma and your sister to go back to and Uncle Jake and his family.”
They packed what they could carry and stored items they would leave behind.
“Well, isn’t this about the moment that you’re supposed to tell me about finding a whole passel of gold while I was out and about?” Charles asked. “You did that last October.”
“Nope, I didn’t try. I figured it was someone else’s turn.”
Early morning, they rode into Warren’s, leading Molly, heavily packed, heading out. They stopped by Hinley’s. Samuel had brought the arrow.
Hinley was in the back, as usual, working on samples. He came out. “I surmise you are leaving?”
“We are. Any news?” Charles asked.
“No, sir, nothing new.”
Charles’s jaw tightened. “I still got a few loose ends I could use some help with.”
“Would you like some coffee?” Hinley had already reached for the cups.
“Yes, thanks.” They pulled up some stools.
“Since Williams didn’t come through, do you want to buy out our quartz ledge? Maybe find a buyer after we’ve gone?”
“If you decide to let me in on the one you have not filed on, I should be interested, but not on the O’Riley.” He eyed Samuel. “I respect your efforts, Samuel. You did everything right, but for an investment, it is still not possible for me.” Hinley picked up some papers. “These are all placers and quartz ledges for sale. I am not purchasing claims, nor should I think I ever shall be. I shall have no trouble being your agent and attempt for a while to find you a buyer. However, I do not see many buyers these days.”
Hinley sighed. “I have always had great hopes for Warren’s camp. I still believe there is a future here; however of recent, I cannot say the prospects are as strong.”
Samuel realized that this was the first time Hinley had ever expressed anything less than optimism. It distressed Samuel, and he sat quietly not knowing what to say before he remembered the Sheepeater gold. He handed Hinley the canister with the amalgam. “Here’s the last of my gold, I didn’t have time to retort it.”
Hinley glanced into the canister. “I could show you a rough way for determining the content if you had time, but if not, I would guess you have about fifteen dollars’ worth.”
“That is more than fair by me,” Samuel had figured
three hundred pounds of Sheepeater ore could run between twelve and eighteen dollars.
“These will spend better where you are going.” Hinley laid out three five-dollar gold pieces. “And these eagles are for your assistance for which I have never paid you.” He tossed down two ten-dollar eagles.
Samuel shook his head. “I never expected any pay, Mr. Hinley. I learned far more than what I could have ever paid you.” He slid the eagles back. “I’m mighty obliged, and I appreciate it, but I can’t accept.”
“Then look at it in this fashion,” Hinley said. “I have always offered you a grubstake. The next ledge you find, you shall pay me back, plus five dollars. Is that fair?”
Samuel looked away a moment. “We’re leaving, Mr. Hinley—for real. Today. I won’t be doing any lookin’ for any more gold—ever.” He felt himself choke slightly as he said the words. Prospecting was in his blood. Given a choice of ranching or prospecting, he now knew what he would pick.
Hinley was quiet. “Samuel, I insist. Look at it as an investment in your future. You have struck me as a fine young man, and I should like to see you have a bright future.”
Hinley’s eyes told Samuel there was something else.
“Okay,” Samuel said quietly. “We thank you kindly.” He gathered up the coins. “One more favor, though?” Samuel asked, handing Hinley the Sheepeater arrow. “Hang this up where folks can see it.”
Hinley frowned and took the arrow.
“I can’t explain what I’m thinking. Just … if someone asks about it—no, if they recognize it—tell them about me. Write me a letter or something.”
Hinley’s brow deepened as he examined the arrow. “This is a Sheepeater arrow. You can decipher this by the three segments. This is a strange acquisition, Samuel. They roam quite a distance east of here.”
“That’s what I’ve been told.”
Hinley studied it quietly. “Blazes, Samuel. That is where you discovered the rich ledge, is it not?”
Samuel had taken a chance and knew it. “Please promise me you won’t tell anyone.”
Hinley slowly shook his head. “Look, Samuel, I have shared with you a dozen times—I do the assays. That shall be what folks pay me for. I shall not be telling them about your ledge.” Hinley balanced the arrow on a shelf where it was visible. “It is just as well. You are correct about that country. It would be nigh impossible to haul ore out of there.”
They headed to Mann’s store. Earlier Samuel had ordered a book from Scott to give to Chen. He hoped Chen would not be on the trail peddling vegetables. It would hurt not being able to give him the book and say good-bye.
The Chinese girl people called Polly stood outside Hong King’s saloon. “Hello, Polly.” Samuel waved. She quickly scurried inside.
“That’s the girl I told you about, Pa.”
“Looks strange, seeing a Chinese girl.”
They stepped into Mann’s store. Samuel was relieved to see both Chen and his uncle.
“I’m leaving, Chen. I came to say good-bye.”
Chen glanced down. “I will miss you, Samuel.”
Samuel noticed the careful pronunciation of his name.
“Don’t worry about me. That Chinese girl is right across the street, maybe you can be friends with her now.”
Chen grew flustered. “Not a joke, Samuel.”
“I know. She’s private property.” Samuel softened. “Maybe more Chinese women will come. Maybe things are changing back in China.”
“Maybe more women,” Chen agreed. “But things are worse in China. More Chinese come to the land of the golden mountain. They don’t go home.”
“Then maybe you should plan on living in America.”
“Why should Chen stay?” He gazed past Samuel, averting his eyes. “My friend goes,” he said quietly.
Samuel swallowed hard. Chen had never suggested his personal feelings. They had shared a friendship, mostly because it had been necessary. They had never spoken of it. Samuel could almost not speak. “Things have a way, Chen. I have an obligation … maybe someday … I will see my friend again.” He touched Chen’s shoulder.
Chen’s eyes brightened. “I will hope so, Samuel. We will sell vegetables. I will learn more about Ahmelicah.”
Samuel pressed his finger to his lips, looked to see that his father could not hear. He felt bad about suggesting something which was untrue. He handed Chen the book. “You should have this. Practice.”
Chen’s eyes glowed more brightly. “Thank you, Samuel.” He pressed it to his chest. It was a history of America.
Quickly Chen stepped away. He spoke to Sing Mann, who disappeared to the back of the store. They handed Samuel a dragon figurine.
“To keep with the snake,” Chen said.
Samuel thanked them.
“We best be on our way, son,” Charles said.
Mann shook his head. “Not go yet. He get vegebows.”
Charles laughed. “We’re good with what we have. Our old mule can’t haul much else, anyhow.”
“No, no,” Mann insisted. “You take more good Chinese food.”
Mann busied himself with wrapping a few items and bundling them up.
Chen came back in the company of a couple of elderly Chinese.
“We loaded some things for you on your mule,” Chen explained, nearly out of breath.
Charles peered at him, questioningly. “Then we don’t need any of this.” He pointed at what Mann was wrapping.
“A littoh.” Mann finished and handed the package to Samuel.
Chen said, “These men came to say thank you again, Samuel, and to say good-bye.”
Samuel recognized them as the elders. He accepted their polite bows and was surprised when they returned his handshake. They chattered to him and his father.
“You are always welcome, they say. You and your father should come back. You have a place of honor with us.”
Charles responded, “Tell them thank you, Chen. Tell them we are honored. If they want to come to Iowa, they are welcome with us. They can grow good crops in Iowa as well.”
Chen interpreted and then shook his head. “No gold.” The men laughed politely and bowed again.
Samuel swung into his saddle and steadied Spooky while he shook hands with Chen. “Good-bye. Find a big nugget so you can go home to China.”
Chen tried to smile and walked with him a few steps down the street and then stood silently. He briefly waved.
Samuel tried to fix the image of his friend in his mind so he would never forget. A lump had risen in his throat, and his eyes misted.
Other people of Washington had come to the street. Samuel realized many people came and left Warren’s camp. Rarely did anyone seem to notice. Today they did. They came and shook hands—wished them well. But the more steps he took away from Warren’s, the more he realized, I belong here, not in Iowa.
They rode in silence, retracing their steps along the route out, stopping to say farewell at Fred Burgdorf’s. Samuel had intended to go swimming in the hot springs, but now he only wanted to move on—to put miles between him and his memories. They had a cup of coffee and slice of pie. Samuel almost felt some of his spirits lift. He grew angry with himself. He was going home. He would finally see his mother, his sister, and Uncle Jake and his family.
They camped that night just beyond Burgdorf’s. On another day, they might have stayed at Burgdorf’s. Now they would be lucky to get back to Iowa with the small amount of money they had, and most of it was really supposed to be Samuel’s, given to him by Mr. Hinley.
“It will be good to get back to your ma, don’t you think, Samuel?” Charles had sensed what Samuel’s silence meant.
“Yes, it will be good.” Samuel tried to sound happy.
“Don’t take it too hard, son,” Charles continued. “We did our best. We make better farmers, anyhow. We’l
l get a crop going next summer; we’ll be sitting pretty.”
“I ’spect you’re right, Pa.” The thought of farming felt like stone to Samuel. He could not see himself a farmer any longer—A rancher, maybe. But that thought made things even worse. He found himself thinking of Bonnie.
He unrolled his blankets next to the fire and began pulling off his boots. “Think we’ll be all right tonight, Pa, or do you think Finney and Culler might still be wanting our hides?”
“I was trying not to think of them.” His father threw another branch on the fire and rose. “I’ll sleep a bit over this way and keep watch awhile. That should be good enough.”
Samuel suddenly felt very tired. He was physically and mentally exhausted. The two men could still very well be out there. He no longer cared, and he slept.
Chapter 55
THE MORNING LIGHT and twittering birds woke Samuel. He sat up, scared. He searched for his father. He was awake, stirring the fire, making coffee.
“I let you sleep, Samuel.” He poured the coffee. “I thought you needed it.”
“Thanks.” He took the hot cup. “What about you?”
He shrugged. Samuel figured he had been awake all night.
His father threw some bacon into a skillet. “We’ll plan on something more decent at the Shearers’,” he explained when he saw Samuel watching.
They rode out, keeping alert, their rifles handy. They passed no one. Again, no one was at the freight landing. Samuel found it strange. He began wishing they would meet someone, someone they could talk to.
As they topped the Salmon gorge, Samuel paused to gaze at the mountains unfolding beyond and at the canyon shadows. He shivered at the sheer drop from the trail. He had been over it several times. He never grew comfortable.
They began working their way down the face and across the long traverses. Samuel remembered where he had encountered the pack train on their first trip in and shivered. He glanced over the edge to see if he could spot the mule carcass. It was still there.
“It’ll be good to visit the Shearers again, don’t you think, Pa?” Samuel wondered how he would be able to say good-bye to them as well.
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