“I’m sorry I yelled at you, Joshua. And you’re right. I wish I didn’t have to see that miner too, but I did. I had to know if it was Bill. Then I realized how much trouble I’ve put you in, and I wanted you to ride off and leave me.” She shrugged. “I really don’t want you to go, but I couldn’t take it if you were hurt because of me.” She reached down to rub the chestnut’s neck. “But you won’t leave me, will you?”
“I’m not going anywhere. I think you are very special, Maggie Magee.”
Shyly she looked down to rub the chestnut’s neck again. “I’m just a woman. I’m not special at all.”
“Well, you’re not like any woman I’ve ever known, that’s for sure. Look around you. You’re riding on a trail no one but Indians and maybe a few trappers have ever been on, and if it wasn’t for two killers who are chasing you, I think you‘d be thrilled.”
Her face lit up like it had with the children yesterday. “I do love it here. It’s beautiful. I was the one who wanted to come to California. I nagged my husband into it. But you’re right. If it wasn’t for everything that’s happened and those evil men, I would be walking on air now. This is just what I’ve always wanted.”
He pulled the mustang around a fallen branch. “I grew up in Philadelphia, but I read stories about the pioneers and explorers. After West Point I volunteered for Fort Leavenworth. I wanted to see the West. It was a disappointment. Kansas is way too flat. But then we were ordered to California. The trip was incredibly hard, but the country we crossed was awesome, with California the most impressive of all.”
He glanced at her. She had a far-away stare in her eyes and a trace of a smile across her lips. “We’ve both seen the elephant, Joshua.”
“Yeah, I guess we have. Do you want to stop and rest?”
“No, I want to go on.” She reached out and took his arm. “Thank you, Joshua, for understanding.”
Again they rode without talking. Joshua wondered if he could protect her from the evil that pursued them. He put his hand on the Paterson Colt. The pistol had saved his life twice. Would he need to rely on it a third time? The sound of a horse approaching broke into his thoughts.
It was Eban. He rode up beside her and slowed the dun to match their pace. “Well darn if you two don’t look downright happy. Have you had a nice ride?”
Joshua chuckled. “As nice as can be expected, I guess.”
Eban looked from Maggie to him and back, his eyebrows high. “I guess I forgot to tell you earlier. Wimmer says if Jack or Bill turn up, he’ll send somebody after us. I thought that would be good news. All this riding and hiding is hard on me, and Maggie, I reckon you don’t need it either.”
“Don’t you put words in my mouth, Eban Snyder.” Maggie spoke sharply but with a healthy touch of sarcasm. “I’ve got it good. I’m with two brave men who treat me pretty special. I couldn’t ask for more,” she grabbed each man by the arm, “except maybe for a little of that gold everybody says is around.” She winked at Joshua.
The small mining town seemed normal when Bill rode in just after noon, Jack beside him. They tied their horses to the rail in front of the general store. Bill scoured the street for any sign of trouble then followed Jack inside.
A boy, too proud of the few scraggly hairs on his chin, greeted them. “Morning, gentlemen. May I help you?”
“Whiskey, quick,” Jack growled at the young clerk.
“Right away, sir. Will that be a bottle, jug or keg today?”
“Get us a jug. Move it, boy!” Bill barked, uneasy. Things looked normal here, but inside something gnawed on him. Best get this over fast.
The boy dropped a ceramic jug on the counter with two glasses. Jack pulled the cork and poured shots then pushed one toward him. He downed it. “Two pounds of beans and a pound each of coffee and flour. Hurry it up.”
The shopkeeper forced a smile. “Right away, sir.” He hurried to the shelves.
The door opened. Bill backed off warily beside Jack as a man with a horseshoe mustache and muddy boots strode to the counter. “Eli, you here? Did you hear what happened?”
The boy appeared with four bags in his hand. “Hi, Mr. Williams. Yeah, I heard.” He put the bags on the counter in front of Jack.
Williams turned toward Jack then Bill. At first he looked like a man about to greet strangers, but his jaw dropped and his eyes bulged. He wheeled and stumbled towards the door. “Sorry, Eli, I forgot something,” he yelled back without looking, then broke into a run.
“I’ll be looking for you, Mr. Williams.” Eli turned to Jack. “Anything else, sir?” He heard the hammer cock. His head jerked toward Bill.
Bill aimed the pistol at the clerk’s chest. “Keep your mouth shut or I’ll blow you apart.”
Eli began to sweat. “Y-y-yes sir. I-I-I won’t say a word.”
“Good boy. Let’s go.” He pushed Jack toward the door, grabbed the whiskey jug, and backed out behind him, his gun still trained on the boy.
Tom’s eyes were glued to the saw mill as they rode past. Pa had told him that they had first found gold in the millrace right here. Sutter wanted to keep it a secret, but some of the workmen prospected down the river until they found a lot of gold at Mormon’s Island. Word spread fast among the rest of the Mormons, and that’s why so many people were mining there.
Hank rode up from the blacksmith’s shop just ahead. “Pa, the smith says he’ll get the mule’s shoe fixed as soon as he can. Seems there was a big to-do today. Somebody washed up at the millrace dam with his head half cut off.”
“It’s the Kanakas!” Tom blurted the words then stared straight at Jess, his mouth wide. Jess grinned at him.
Hank gave Jess a dirty look. He had heard Jess tell Tom the whole story right after they crossed the Sacramento River. “No, Tom, but it might’ve been the men from the stable in Sacramento City. The whole town’s abuzz with talk. The smith says the killers are after a red-headed woman.”
“Dang, Hank. You mean them killers are up here?” Tom looked around uneasily.
Pa had heard enough. “You get your mind off them killers. We aim to mine. Let that sheriff do his job. We’ll stop at that store there, rest up and wait on the mule.”
Just as Pa started off, a man burst through the store’s front door and ran headlong towards them yelling. Another man followed him out the door and leaped onto his horse.
Tom’s jaw dropped. “It’s the scar-faced guy from the stables!” Another man came out of the store, a jug of whiskey under his arm. “There’s the Injun feller. It’s them, both of them!”
The first man out of the store yelled loud as he ran. People rushed to the street. The scar-faced man whipped his horse and rode east at a gallop. The other guy grabbed his reins.
Jess had his rifle out. He fired just as the Injun guy swung into the saddle. Jess hit him! The guy screamed and dropped the whiskey, but grabbed the saddle and pulled himself onto the animal anyway and rode east hard.
Jess pumped the heavy flintlock high over his head. “I hit him, Pa! I hit him!”
“That was a good shot, Son, but shooting a man ain’t nothing to be proud of. It don’t matter how bad a man he is.”
Pa’s words cooled Jess down some, but the rest of the street was in bedlam. Men mounted up and rode after the killers. Others rushed on foot to the general store to check on the storekeeper.
Jess pranced the pinto. “Pa, ain’t we going after them killers?”
“Settle down, Jess. We ain’t going after no killers. We’ll wait on the mule then use the rest of the day to look for gold. Ain’t no reason to get involved. Ain’t none of our business.”
“But, Pa!”
“You do as you’re told. You ain’t so tough I can’t take you.”
“Ah, Pa, we never get to do nothing.”
Jess was mad, but Tom knew Pa was right. Those killers were the scariest men he’d ever seen.
A burly man in a leather apron threw a saddle on a mare in front of the stable. Hank showed him to Pa. “It don’
t look like the smith’s going to get to the mule any time soon. He’s riding out after them killers.”
“We’ll let things settle down some then go scout around. We can get that mule later.”
Maggie checked the sun. The shadows lay east of the trees now. She had spent yet another half day in the saddle, and her backside ached as much as it had at sundown yesterday. A few miles back, Joshua had asked if she wanted to rest. Now she regretted wanting to go on. Suddenly Clara started to bray and honk.
“She smells water. I’ll ride ahead and check it.” Eban disappeared through the foliage. In a few minutes he was back. “It’s a creek all right, but there’s a passel of Injuns too. It looks like they’re mining. They got women with them, so I reckon they’re friendly, but check your loads, Josh. Maggie, you stay behind. If anything happens, get out fast.”
She followed them downhill, into a lovely, green valley that widened to a meadow in the west. Down the center was the stream, framed by the hill they were on and two more to the south and southwest, a ravine between them.
The Indians worked along it, scooping dirt into woven reed baskets and washing it in the stream. A horseman in a wide Mexican sombrero galloped up from the meadow. She saw Joshua unsnap the flap on his holster.
Eban held out his hand. “Hold on now, Josh. I believe that’s Daylor.” He waved his hat. “Daylor, that you?”
Deeply tanned, Daylor sported a thin, well-trimmed beard along this chin and no mustache. He waved as he rode up. “Eban Snyder, how are you?”
Eban shook his friend’s hand. “I’ve been better, Daylor.” He introduced her and Joshua.
Daylor nodded his greetings but continued talking to Eban. “I was at the ranch the same day you left. Sarah said you were going to Sacramento City but you might come this way. I wasn’t expecting you this quick. She told me you had some trouble. Is that true?”
Eban grimaced. “Yeah, Sarah said to look you up if we needed help. It looks like we’ve got some bad men after us, but I heard you were at Weber Creek. Unless I’m more lost than I think I am, ain’t that a bit further on?”
“Yeah, we started out over there,” Daylor nodded to the south, “but we moved here because this place is loaded with color. I’ve been finding gold all over. If you’re planning on mining, I expect there’s plenty for all of us. Why don’t you stick around? It would be good to have more men beside you just in case. What do you say?”
“That’s as neighborly an offer as we’ve had in a spell.” Eban looked to Joshua and Maggie. “How do you feel about staying here a bit?”
She knew that Eban was really asking her if she was ready for life in this isolated but lovely valley. She looked around. If Sarah and Catherine could make a life on Deer Creek Slough, if Mrs. Wimmer could do it in Coloma, she could do it here. “Mr. Daylor, there is nothing I would like better than to stop riding around this country and settle down in one place. Thank you, sir. I would love to stay.”
Daylor smiled back and nodded. “Well, that’s great, ma’am. I just hope that it won’t be too tough on you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Daylor, but I’ve seen worse than this place has to offer.”
“Yes, ma’am. I heard about you from Sarah. She thinks an awful lot of you. You’ll be in good hands here. My Injuns will spot any strangers that come around. Nobody can get past them.” Without giving her a chance to reply, he turned Eban. “There’s another ravine up a ways on the north side of the valley.” Daylor pointed upstream. “I looked at it earlier. There might be some good mining in it.”
“Across the stream below a big cedar on the cliff, there’s a spot that’ll make a good campsite for you. Leastwise it’ll keep somebody from sneaking up your back. Why don’t you get settled in and then around sundown come back and help us eat one of these prime beeves we brung up here? We’re right over at the edge of the tree line.”
After thanking Daylor, Maggie, Joshua, and Eban rode up the creek and found the well-protected campsite beside the cliff. She soon had a fire going, heating beans and coffee. The men made the camp as secure and comfortable as they could. After lunch they would explore the creek and the ravine that ran into it from the north for places to begin their hunt for gold.
14 Gold
Smiling Jack rode headlong back up the same trail he had taken on the way into the mining camp. Fear pushed him like never before, for now angry men with guns followed him. He would be lucky if they shot him dead. Then he would escape the rope that men like him often found as their gateway to the next world.
Like a painting in a fancy eastern hotel he could see himself hanging from a lone tree along the river. He mopped his sweaty face with his arm. When he came to the ford where they had crossed earlier, he rode upstream in the river for nearly a half-mile before climbing out near a large rock on the same shore.
He looked back downstream to see if anyone would discover his ruse. No one followed him. Maybe he had gotten away. Perhaps he wouldn’t hang after all. He relaxed. The jitteriness that had grabbed his gut since Bill had pushed him from the store eased. The shallow, quick breaths slowed as he sucked in the clear, clean air. Out of sight of the miners working the ravines on the north side, his tracks hidden beneath the river, he felt sheltered from those who pursued him.
The fools! He had bested them again! He chuckled to himself. All these sodbusters were easy, no match for him. They would never catch him. He could do anything he wanted. They were mice and he was the cat, ready to pounce.
He left his horse by a small stream that fed the main river, took his rifle, and walked to the boulder by the water. He watched the river again to see if anyone would figure out his dodge and come after him, but he knew they wouldn’t.
The rest of the whiskey from last night was in his canteen, and he needed a drink bad. He took a long draw on the flask, then eased back against the rock and let the warmth settle over him. Several more large pulls and he emptied the canteen. He heaved it into the woods with a curse. He needed more whiskey.
Damn Bill. Why did he pull the gun on the stupid clerk? They planned to buy what they needed with the gold they got last night. No one would know. Now Bill was shot, maybe dead. It served him right. It was all Bill’s fault. If he had kept to the plan everything would have been fine.
Jack could find more whiskey tonight, and more gold, just like last night. He smirked. It was simple. He leaned back against the rock. Then, warmed by the midday sun and lacking sleep from the night before, he dropped off into a drunken slumber.
The loud click of the pistol hammer rang in his ear. “Wake up, son a bitch.” The cold feel of the barrel was against his temple. What happened? Yes, he had fallen asleep. Stupid, maybe fatal. Now he was caught. He would have to lie his way out of this.
He conjured up his smoothest voice. “Hold on there, friend. I ain’t done you no harm now. Why don’t you ease up on that horse pistol and let’s talk this over.”
“Ought to skin you alive, yellow skunk.”
“Bill. Bill, that you?” He gasped with relief. “I been worried sick over what happened to you. Glad you’re all right. Put the gun down.” He wasn’t caught. He wouldn’t hang, at least not yet, but he would have to take the edge off Bill some.
“You’re dung, Jack, but I ain’t going to kill you, yet.” Bill released the hammer and slid the gun back into his pants. “Run out on me again, I’ll gut you.”
Jack turned slowly to face his partner. A large, red splotch on his left shoulder bubbled blood with every beat of Bill’s heart, a gnarly looking wound. “Bill, I thought you was dead. I swear I did. You don’t know how happy I am you’re alive. Here let me look at that gunshot.” He feigned concern for the half-breed.
“Keep your hands off. Do my own doctoring. Get my saddlebags. Go!”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m on my way. You just take it easy.” Jack backed off in the direction of the small creek. Bill’s horse was with his, just inside the forest. He grabbed Bill’s bags then waited at the edge of the trees.
From a bag hanging across his chest, Bill took a leather strap and stuck it in his mouth. He pulled out a pile of moss and laid it where he could reach it. Then, biting hard on the strap, Bill probed the hole with the tip of the knife, digging ever deeper in search of the poisonous lead ball lodged inside.
Bill cried out then gave a loud sigh when the ball finally popped out. Blood flowed stronger now from the enlarged gash. He took the moss, pushed it into the hole, pressed it down with his palm, then sank back against the rock.
Jack walked back with Bill’s saddlebags. “Bill, you’re a mess.”
“Shut up! White man’s shirt is in there. Tear it to strips. Now!”
“Yeah, sure.” Jack turned the shirt to rags.
“Bind this up.”
Jack did as Bill asked, and soon had the wound wrapped and a sling made to hold the arm.
Jack stepped back, satisfied with his work. “Looks as good as one of them city doctor’s would a done.”
“Shut up. Got to rest. They’ll be coming soon. Wake me then.”
“Yeah, Bill. I’ll rouse you.”
Jack slid around Bill and took a spot where he could see anyone coming. It was early afternoon, still a long way from the dark that would hide their movements from pursuers. The day dragged on. Jack fought the sleep that had overcome him before and watched the river uneasily.
He saw them as they came around the bend, four men riding in the edge of the flow, checking the bank for signs. He shook Bill on his good shoulder. He popped to full alert at once.
“Four of them. Coming up the river.”
Bill rolled over to look for himself. “Keep quiet. Get to the horses.”
Tom was last in line as they rode single file in the shallows at the edge of the American River. “Pa, everybody’s finding gold on the north side of the river. Why are we looking on the south side?”
Hangtown Creek: A Tale of the California Gold Rush (A Tom Marsh Adventure Book 1) Page 15