by Val Wood
‘Eat!’ He held the meat towards her on his knife. ‘There is nothing else. Would you rather starve?’
Later, after darkness had fallen and she was sated with the rich meat, she asked him, as they sat by the fire, about his father and mother. ‘What happened to them?’ she asked. ‘Did your mother travel with him?’
He poked the fire with a stick before answering. ‘I only know what I was told,’ he said softly. ‘My mother was very young and she had gone into the forest alone, which was forbidden for the young Iroquois maidens. She was collecting berries and didn’t hear him come behind her. She tried to run but he caught her, put her on his horse and took her away with him.’
His forehead creased into a deep frown. ‘He took her from the territory she knew and made her his squaw. Two years she was gone, then she became with child and he didn’t want her any more. He took her back to the settlement early one morning and left her there. She sat outside in the forest for two days, not daring to go in. Then she thought of the child she was carrying and plucked up the courage to ask the Iroquois to take her in.’
‘And they did?’ she asked softly.
He nodded. ‘The women held a council, and then the men did the same. They decided that it hadn’t been her fault. That she hadn’t encouraged him and so they let her back into the tribe.’
‘Did you ever meet him?’
‘No. He was killed by another tribe when he tried to take one of their women.’ His eyes narrowed and his voice was bitter. ‘It was a pity for I had wanted to kill him myself.’
They set off back to Dreumel’s Creek the next morning, arriving as darkness fell. He watched her go into her cabin, then wheeled around and cantered back down the valley and up the wooded mountainside.
Her life took on a regular pattern. Lake rode in over the mountains and they spent a short precious time together, then he gathered his belongings, lifted his packs onto the second horse, fastened the blankets over the top of them and put on his leather hat, which each time he came had a different feather in it. He saddled his horse, hitched up onto it and looked down at her. He didn’t speak, but simply nodded his head, raised his hand and cantered away. She never asked him when he would be returning – she knew he would come when he could.
Now that Kitty had her child Georgiana was without any help or maid, but she didn’t mind. She felt quite self-sufficient, except on washdays when carrying heavy buckets of water from the rain butts or creek did not appeal, so Kitty arranged for young Rose to help Miss Gianna with the washing. Rose also assisted Kitty in her bakery store. ‘What about that, Miss Georgiana?’ Kitty exclaimed. ‘Who’d ever have thought that I would have a help of my own!’
Georgiana’s own cabin was taking shape as Wilhelm had promised, as was the new road into the next valley which they decided would be called Pike’s Road. Mining equipment was coming in only gradually, for the men were anxious not to whisper the word that there was gold in the next valley. The ground was staked and a company, made up of the committee, was formed.
In the summer a second shaft was sunk, but there was disappointment when there was no gold. Some of the newer men, employed to work for the company, packed up their picks, shovels and tents and drifted away to look for their fortune elsewhere.
‘We’re too high,’ Ted proclaimed, looking down from the site of the second shaft. ‘We should be lower down, nearer the creek.’ So another site was chosen for the third shaft. Waterwheels were installed, flumes to divert the mountain streams were dug, a shaft house and rough shanty housing were built so that the men didn’t have to journey back to Dreumel’s Creek each evening.
Georgiana was sitting on a bench outside the bakery with Caitlin on her knee, whilst Kitty was inside kneading dough. She was building up a good business, supplying the residents of Dreumel’s Creek with fresh bread and cakes. Georgiana lifted her head and listened. A shout! Faint, yet definitely a shout. There it was again. It was coming from the direction of the other valley.
‘Kitty!’ she called. ‘Come here a minute.’
Kitty emerged, wiping her floury hands on a cloth. ‘What?’ she said.
‘Something’s happening – listen, can’t you hear? The men are shouting.’
‘Glory to God!’ Kitty crossed herself. ‘I hope there’s not been an accident!’ She took Caitlin from Georgiana and hugged her.
‘No.’ Georgiana stood up and strained to hear. ‘I can hear – yippee! That’s what they’re shouting! They’re shouting yippee! Oh, Kitty!’ She turned to face her, her face flushed and animated. ‘Do you think they’ve struck gold?’
They had. A figure appeared across the creek at the entrance to the new road. A figure waving his arms and jumping up and down. They couldn’t hear what he was yelling but he was indicating good news.
‘It’s Ted!’ Kitty shrieked, startling Caitlin and making her cry. ‘Look, he’s wearing his lucky red shirt!’
Georgiana laughed. ‘His lucky red shirt?’
‘Yes!’ Kitty cried excitedly. ‘I’d washed his old one and told him to wear that one. He didn’t want to because he said it was his best winter flannel. I said it would bring him luck and then we’d be able to make him another!’
When the men arrived back that evening they brought the news of a strike. ‘We struck the lead!’ Ted threw his hat in the air and swung Kitty round and round until she shrieked at him to stop. Then he gave Georgiana a smacking kiss.
‘Forty feet down,’ he bellowed. ‘Jason went wandering along the creek and saw the gravel glistening under the water. We went down another ten feet and brought up the richest gravel you ever did see!’
Wilhelm had a huge beam on his face. ‘I can’t believe it,’ he kept saying. ‘I can’t believe it! After all this time! I almost gave up,’ he confessed to Georgiana. ‘The men were so tired, yet they wanted to continue, especially Ted. And,’ he looked at Georgiana, ‘I couldn’t bear to think of you losing your inheritance.’
‘But I didn’t,’ she said gently. ‘I had faith in you, Wilhelm.’
‘Thank you.’ He took her hand and pressed it to his lips. ‘Thank you.’
Once the news reached Philadelphia, miners started to appear across the plain, carrying their picks and shovels and some wheelbarrows, all heading for Dreumel’s Creek. But not all could find their way and some missed the opening into the mountains and lost themselves. Other more determined characters found their way but discovered that the best claims had been staked on the hillside, so they moved further down into the second valley.
Yeller Valley, Jason had named it, and within weeks a shanty town had been set up alongside the creek. Claims were staked, and men panned and sieved the waters of the river bed. Others struck the rock with their picks but few found gold for it was buried deep, and many moved on.
Nearly four years had passed since Georgiana and Kitty had set sail for America, and they often discussed how different their lives now were. Kitty was a wife and mother and running her own bakery store, whilst Georgiana had swapped her genteel lady’s existence for a much simpler one. They were richer than they had ever dreamed they would be, but found that the acquisition of gold had made little difference to their lives here in Dreumel’s Creek.
It was whilst Georgiana and Wilhelm were in Philadelphia attending to newspaper business, for Georgiana, at Wilhelm’s insistence, had kept her shares in the Star, that a letter came for her. She had given the newspaper address to May and May’s parents and although she wrote fairly regularly, their replies came only infrequently. In one of them May had told her of the sudden death of Aunt Clarissa.
She sat at Wilhelm’s desk now and hoped that it wasn’t more bad news. She was dismayed, however, to read in the first line that May’s father had died during the year.
‘I did not tell you sooner, my dear Georgiana, for I know how you would have depended on poor Papa should you return to England, and I did not wish to crush your spirits too much. However, after much discussion, Mama and I decided that it was b
est that you know the situation here and that after such a long period away, you must expect now to fend for yourself.
‘I had hoped that you would have found a suitable husband to care for you, but I must presume that you haven’t as I know you would have written to tell me. I can only hope that your spinsterhood is tranquil and untroubled, and in order to maintain a prudent decorum I suggest that you refrain from reading any romantic novels as you used to, which might induce any craving of unrequited passion.’
Georgiana smiled to herself as she turned the page, and thought of riding up into the mountains with Lake. She thought of his lithe strong body, his tender, yet passionate loving, and knew that she couldn’t speak of any of this happiness to her cousin.
‘However,’ she read on, and her eyebrows rose at the content, ‘the main reason for my writing to you now is to ask a favour of you, which I know you will consider it your duty to fulfil, in view of your obligation to us, your adoptive family, who have sustained you as a daughter and sister since the early death of your unfortunate parents.
‘Dearest Papa was always of the opinion that one day Edward would return to me and that our marriage would be resumed. I was therefore never allowed to entertain any gentlemen, not even in a most discreet manner, and have lived a virtuous and moral life since my husband left. But now that Papa is gone, I have a suitor, a Mr Melville, a very worthy gentleman, who would marry me if I was free. I am asking you therefore, dear Georgiana, if you will do all in your power to ascertain whether my husband, Edward Newmarch, is alive or dead.’
Georgiana put down the letter. But how? Surely May does not want me to search for him? Does she not realize how big this country is? She glanced again at the letter and read it to the end. She does! She is obligating me to seek him out! There was no doubt that her cousin was calling on Georgiana’s integrity and gratitude for the benevolence shown to her in the past.
She showed the letter to Wilhelm and he read it with a grave expression on his face. ‘Did they bestow compassion on you when you lost your parents?’ he asked.
‘My uncle supported me and never grumbled,’ she admitted. ‘But I lived with his elderly sister, my aunt. I did not live with them as a daughter or a sister, as May implies. May was very young when I came into their care and I don’t think they wanted another child in the house.
‘Nevertheless,’ she conceded, ‘I have every reason to be grateful to my uncle and aunt. And I did accompany May as a companion as we grew into womanhood.’ She sighed and thought of how very often she had become weary of May and her constant demands.
‘Then we must endeavour to find him.’ Wilhelm teased his beard thoughtfully. ‘If he is alive she must file for a divorce, which would perhaps be distasteful for her, or if he is dead be declared a widow. She cannot marry otherwise.’ He gazed at Georgiana. ‘An advertisement in the newspaper for a start?’
She considered. ‘Yes. And perhaps in a New Orleans paper also, if you have contacts. That is where he was last seen.’
But weeks went by and there was no response to their advertisements. Autumn was coming up fast, the foliage on the oaks was turning to red-gold and the willows by the creek were shedding their leaves. Lake would be coming for the last time before winter and Georgiana felt that if she was to be positive regarding the search for Edward Newmarch, then she should act soon.
‘Wilhelm! I think I must travel to New Orleans to enquire about Edward.’
He looked startled. ‘But someone must accompany you. You cannot possibly travel alone.’ Then he blinked his blue eyes and smiled. ‘Even though you are an intrepid traveller!’
‘Wilhelm,’ she warned jocularly. ‘You know better than to say that I cannot do something!’ She considered. ‘I’ll speak to Ted again. Perhaps he might remember more about what might have happened to Edward Newmarch.’
Ted couldn’t shed more light on the mystery. ‘I was ill with malaria at the time he disappeared,’ he said. ‘I won’t ever forget that because it keeps recurring.’ He shook his head. ‘I reckon the Spaniard, Rodriguez, found him. Newmarch told me he had become involved with a woman. Women were always his downfall,’ he added cynically.
‘Well, you cannot go alone, Georgiana,’ Wilhelm insisted. ‘It is too dangerous. Ask Lake,’ he said quietly. ‘He’ll tell you.’
‘Lake is not my keeper,’ she answered defiantly, for although she realized that Wilhelm knew of her relationship with Lake, she did not care for it to be acknowledged. She regretted her words instantly when she saw the hurt on his face. ‘I’m sorry, Wilhelm,’ she whispered. ‘But I must do what I think is best.’
‘I only meant,’ he said, turning away from her, ‘that Lake would know of the dangers of crossing the country alone. As indeed I do, and Ted and the other men do.’ He looked back at her. ‘But you are a stubborn, independent woman, Georgiana, and nothing I will say will make the slightest difference!’
She caught hold of his sleeve. ‘You are wrong, Wilhelm. I value your opinion very highly. I will go to Philadelphia and travel by ship to New Orleans.’ She gave him a warm smile. ‘I shall be perfectly safe on a ship, so you need not worry.’
‘But I will,’ he answered.
Lake had his misgivings when she told him of her plans. ‘Are you in this woman’s debt? Is she so important to you that you will risk your life for her?’
She suddenly felt frightened, just as she had when she first set out on the voyage to America. ‘I owe my life to her father, who is dead. I would have been destined for an orphanage otherwise.’
He didn’t understand the term and so she explained. He simply nodded his head and gave a small grunting noise. ‘You must pay that debt,’ he agreed. ‘And then you are free for ever. You can do whatever you wish with your life.’
‘I only wish to be with you,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t want to go away. I’m happy with my life here, but when I come back I will be ready to follow you if you will let me.’
They were up on the plateau overlooking the valley, and he put his arms around her and drew her towards him. ‘My freedom is not the same as yours, Gianna. I am beyond civilization, which is where you belong. My freedom is on the plains and in the mountains. It is on the riverbanks and beside lakes. It is being able to make my shelter where and when I choose.’
He kissed her gently on the lips. ‘I can travel in the heat of the sun or in the depths of winter snow. If I am tired I rest, and if I am not I keep on travelling. You and I know it is not a life that I can share.’
‘Do you love me?’ she asked.
‘I will love you always.’ He looked down at her, then closing his eyes he touched her face, tracing her features with his fingers as if he wanted to imprint them into his own quintessence. ‘Look for me when you return and I will be here.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
When Edward and the other men looked on San Francisco for the first time, they were looking through weary, yet eager eyes. ‘We’ve been through hell,’ Edward had muttered, ‘and we’ve reached El Dorado.’
They were triumphant at having arrived as there had often been times on their long journey when they were on the verge of giving up, and would have done so but for the hazards of going back. They were also astounded by the size of the city. The previous year a conflagration, lashed by the wind blowing in across San Francisco Bay, had caught hold of the crude wooden shacks, canvas tents and waggons, and within minutes had reduced the town to smouldering timber.
Now a new city had arisen. Cheap hotels, bars, brothels, gambling dens, quarters where Chinese, Mexican, Negro, and countless nationalities had settled in their own domain to speak their own language and continue their customs. The city was a conglomerate mass of cultures. Educated men with pen and paper, parsons with bibles, seamen jumped from their ships, cooks with recipes, farmhands with hayseed in their hair, scoundrels and card sharps, all eagerly converged on this once small settlement of Yerba Buena to seek a quick fortune.
Following on behind the gold prospect
ors were merchants selling their goods at inflated prices. The whores set up brothels, theatre groups put up their stages and vigilante bands held trials and hangings, sometimes on the same day. Justice was swift, rough and conclusive.
‘Why did we come here?’ Jed had muttered as they pitched their tents on a hillside outside the town. ‘Just look at those ships, all filled with prospectors! We should have gone straight upriver, the strikes will be all worked out!’
Down in San Francisco Bay the ships crowded together on the wharf, having disgorged hundreds more men to swell the city to bursting point.
‘No, they won’t,’ Larkin asserted. ‘There’s gold all over Californy. We’ve just got to look for it, that’s all, but we need to be here in San Francisco to hear of the best sites.’
I might have made my fortune with a ship if I had stayed with Rodriguez, Edward had thought as he’d gazed down at the seething city. I suppose fate has brought me here. He hardly ever looked back to his life in England, and rarely thought of his wife May, though often of his mistress Ruby.
She had come into his mind many times as he had tramped over mountains and along rutted trails, forded rushing creeks, crossed dusty plains and rocky valleys, and he had longed for her to be by his side.
The gold rush had started in 1849 when thousands of men and some women left their homes in search of gold, but it had been the year before that James Marshall had discovered gold in the tailrace of John Sutter’s sawmill at Coloma on the American river. Once the secret was out, towns and cities emptied and the long trek to California began.
Edward and the other men had disregarded the trappers’ advice about leaving the waggon behind and trekking on foot after the snow had dispersed, and had travelled many more miles with it, following a pack train. Eventually an axle had cracked and the canvas tore in a storm, so they packed as much as they could onto the horse and on their backs, abandoned the waggon and set off to walk.