by Stephen Bly
“What did you say?” Joslyn asked her.
“Eh ... nothing,” Christen gulped. She wiped her eyes on her dress sleeves.
Two Bears trotted toward Retta, and behind him came his two older sons and then several other members of his family.
“There’s one wearing your purple dress,” Joslyn called out.
“That’s Shy Bear,” Retta reported. “It’s pansy plum.”
“We should go back to the wagons,” Ben urged.
“But these are my friends,” Retta protested. “These are the ones we came to see. ”
“I say we should get back,” Ben asserted. “I’ve seen enough Indians.”
“Pm not leaving without Retta,” Christen said.
“I’m not leaving until I talk to Two Bears,” Retta insisted.
Ben jammed his hat back on. “I guess I should stay then.”
“You’re afraid to go anywhere without Retta, too,” Christen murmured.
Retta put the pansy-plum gingham bonnet on her head and then took it off and held it out toward the young girl on the gray horse. “This is for you, Shy Bear.”
The young girl slid down off the horse, sprinted up to Retta, took the bonnet with a giggle, and ran back to her waiting horse.
Two Bears rode up to Retta and then signaled for the two young men to follow the Indian into the brush along the river.
“Who was that Indian, Two Bears? He scared us. Was he a friend of yours? I don’t think he was Shoshone. I thought for sure he was going to scalp me. I didn’t mean to punch him that hard. My hand slipped. What are you doing down here? Where is Lucy Two Bears and your baby? I’m surely glad you came along.”
Two Bears slipped off his pony and squatted on his haunches next to Retta. She squatted down beside him.
“My wife and baby are back at camp. We came to see if Red Bear needed any help, of course.”
“Well, I needed help. I think he really was going to kill us.”
Two Bears glanced over at her companions.
“Oh,” Retta exclaimed. “This is my friend Joslyn, and this is Christen.”
“Retta and me have been best friends ever since we were three,” Christen called out.
“And this is Ben,” Retta announced.
“Benweaver!” Two Bears grinned.
Ben jammed his hands into his corduroy trousers. “How did he know my name?”
Two Bears turned to Retta. “He is your boyfriend?”
“No,” Ben blurted out.
A scowl replaced Two Bear’s smile.
“But we are very good friends,” Ben added.
Retta and Two Bears squatted and the others stood when the two young men rode back and said something to Two Bears.
“Who was that Indian?” Retta asked.
“His name is Tall Owl.”
“He didn’t treat us very nice.”
Two Bears drew a feather in the mud. “He’s Arapaho.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means my family and I are in very big danger,” Two Bears explained. “This is Arapaho country.”
“Don’t the Shoshone get along with the Arapaho?” she asked.
“No.”
“Where is he going?”
“Back to his camp, I suppose.”
“How far away?”
“I hope it is very far. He will gather his warriors and come after my family.”
“Will they come after the wagon train?”
“I don’t think so, but they may try to steal your horses.”
“What will you do?” Retta asked.
“Try to avoid being killed. I want to take my family to Fort Bridger. But we have to stay away from the Arapaho and the Cheyenne and, of course, the Sioux. I had hoped to follow your wagon train for a while, but now that the Arapaho know, it might be more difficult.”
“You speak very good English,” Ben blurted out from his place behind the girls.
“So do you,” Two Bears replied.
“Why do you want to go to Fort Bridger?” Retta quizzed.
“Because I like it better than living with the Cherokee down in the Territory.”
Retta glanced down. “Oh, I almost forgot. Here is a book. It was the only one I could find extra right now.” She handed him the small book.
Two Bears’s eyes lit up. “I have never had a book of my own before. It will be a treasure.” He looked at the cover. “ Pil-grim Pro-guess?”
“Yes, it’s called Pilgrim’s Progress, and it’s one of my favorite books,” Retta said.
His grin filled his brown face and made his mouth seem unusually large. “And now it is my favorite book.”
“I thought it was your only book,” Joslyn commented. “Yes, isn’t that a coincidence?” He turned to Retta. “What is it about?”
“A man on a great journey to heaven to see God, who sometimes gets sidetracked and has many adventures along the way. ”
“That is good. I shall learn it all. I would like to take the journey to heaven myself someday.”
Two Bears stood and waved to one of the boys on horseback. His son trotted over to them and handed him a leather bundle.
“These are for you,” Two Bears proclaimed.
“My moccasins,” Retta squealed.
“You got beaded knee-high moccasins for one old book?” Joslyn marveled.
“I’ve got a book,” Ben declared.
Two Bears peered around the girls at Ben Weaver. “Is it Red Bear’s favorite book?”
“Eh, no, probably not. It’s a penny-press novel about a pirate.”
Two Bears thumbed through the book as if looking at illustrations. “Are you going to stay to eat supper with us, Red Bear? Your friends are welcome also.”
Retta looked at the others. “No, we should get back. We have to help at the wagon train. The California wagons are going to break away and go ahead of the rest of us.”
“I have been to California,” he informed her. “California is a long ways away,” Ben said skeptically. “Yes, I went there with Joseph Walker.”
Ben’s mouth dropped open. “Really?”
Two Bears sketched a bird in the mud. “I went to Washington, D.C., with Kit Carson and spoke with President Polk once.”
“You met the president of the United States,” Ben gasped.
“He gave me a medal on a blue ribbon. I traded it for a pony.”
“I like your Indian, Retta,” Joslyn said.
“Red Bear is part of our family. Look at her dark skin and broad nose.” He grinned. “I thought she was part Indian. When I saw her slug the Arapaho, I knew she was Shoshone. He will not forget Red Bear.”
Ben cleared his throat and inched a little closer. “Can we have Indian names, too?”
Two Bears rubbed his hairless chin. “You may have any name you choose.”
“But we would like you to give us real Indian names,” Christen urged.
“Oh, I get to be the naming chief, do I?”
“Yes, please,” Joslyn said.
“Would you like the Indian version or the English?”
“The English,” Joslyn replied. She squatted down next to Retta.
“What is your name?” he asked.
“Joslyn Jouppi.”
“Youpy?”
She locked her fingers and draped her hands over the top of her head. “Sort of like that.”
“It sounds like a Comanche word for ‘river.’ And you have black hair. You were brave to stand by Red Bear’s side. So perhaps you should be ‘River Raven.’”
Joslyn clapped her hands. “Oh, yes. I love it!”
“How about me?” Ben said.
“I watched you with the Arapaho, Benweaver.”
“Yes?”
“I think I should call you ‘The-Boy-Who-Runs-Away.’” Ben jammed his hands in his pockets.
“I—I was goin’ for help,” he stammered. “I was jeopardizing my life in order to go for help for the girls.”
Two Bears raised his eye
brows. “Then you may name yourself.”
“How about Ben’s sister Christen?” Retta asked. “Perhaps she could be ‘Weeping Willow.’ She shed many tears.”
“I like the Willow part,” Christen said. “But I don’t always cry. At least I didn’t vomit.”
“Your name is Weaver also?” Two Bears asked.
“Yes.”
“Then you shall be ‘Willow Weaver.’”
Christen clutched Retta’s hand. “I like it. Do you like it?”
Retta nodded.
“I think this whole name thing is dumb,” Ben grumbled.
“It was your idea,” Christen reminded him.
“It’s still dumb,” he mumbled.
Retta stood and walked with Two Bears back to his horse. “When will I get to see you?”
“Perhaps I will come and visit you again.”
“Again?” Joslyn choked.
“I always visit my family,” he answered. “Perhaps Red Bear is my little sister. I will have to ask my mother.”
“You ... have a mother?” Christen blurted out. “I mean, everyone has a mother, but ... never mind.”
Two Bears put his arm on Retta’s shoulder. “Now, Red Bear, go back to the wagons. Don’t let them come out looking for me. I need to move my family where the Arapaho won’t find us.”
Retta and the others watched until Two Bears and his family disappeared into the brush along the river. Ben led the way back toward the wagons. The three girls trailed along.
“I think this has been the most exciting day of my life,” Joslyn said. “It is so strange. The day started out boring. Then it got so terribly sad. And now it turned out wonderful.”
“I really thought we were going to die or worse,” Christen declared.
“What could be worse than dying?” Joslyn asked, then corrected herself. “Oh! Yes ... don’t answer. I just knew he was going to scalp Retta. Did you see the look in his eyes? I can’t believe we lived through it.”
“I can’t believe she slugged him in the stomach,” Ben added.
“It was sort of an accident. I was mad.”
“And then to have Retta’s Indian come and save us ... well, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I know one thing—I’m never going to wander off beyond sight of the wagons again,” Christen asserted.
“Unless you’re with Retta,” Joslyn said.
“I wasn’t all that much help,” Retta replied.
“Are you kidding? You stood in front of all of us, between that savage and us. You punched him and challenged him.”
“But I couldn’t have stopped him.”
“Well, I felt a whole lot better having you there,” Joslyn insisted.
“You know how you have a bad dream and wake up scared,” Christen said. “And then you pull a blanket over your head and feel better? Well, you were our blanket, Retta.”
Retta reached out and held hands with both Christen and Joslyn. This was what she was missing. She needed to be something besides a little girl who carried buffalo chips.
My friends needed me, and I was there. If nothing else exciting happens on this trip, that will last a lifetime. They didn’t need Lerryn. They didn’t need William. They didn’t need Andrew. They needed Retta Barre.
Today, Lord, I like being me.
Ben let out a long sigh. “Eh, Retta ... Christen and Joslyn are right. You were the rock we hid behind. I reckon I didn’t know I would be that scared.”
Retta grinned from ear to ear. Lord, I really, really like being me.
“Here,” Joslyn offered, “do you want Retta to hold your hand, too?”
Ben and Retta both pulled back in unison. “No!”
Christen and Joslyn giggled.
They reached the crest of the knoll and spotted the activity at the wagons. Ben turned to the girls. “I don’t want any of you to ever tell anyone the name that Indian gave me,” he warned.
“But you did run,” Christen observed.
“And you are very swift,” Joslyn added.
“Like an antelope runs from danger,” Retta mused. “Perhaps your name should be ‘Swift Antelope.”’
Ben’s eyes lit up. He threw his shoulders back. “Now that is a good name.”
Retta put her hand on his shoulder as if to knight him. “Then your Indian name shall be ‘Swift Antelope.’”
Ben flashed his dimpled smile. “Honest?”
“Yes. If anyone comes up to us and asks what Benweaver’s Indian name is, I shall say, ‘Swift Antelope.’”
“You’re a real pal.” He reached up and put his hand on top of hers.
Joslyn and Christen giggled.
Retta grinned. “That’s me—Retta, the pal.”
Ben dropped his hand to his side. “I think I’ll go tell Ansley my Indian name.”
Retta held her breath and puffed out her cheeks as he sprinted across the muddy prairie.
Joslyn tugged Retta’s arm and the three girls continued their trek. “Come on, Red Bear, ol’ pal. I still say he should be called ‘The-Boy-Who-Runs-Away.’”
~~The End~~
About the author:
Stephen Bly (1944-2011) published over 100 fiction and nonfiction books for adults and kids. He won the Christy Award for the Westerns category. His widow Janet and their three sons finished his last novel for him, Stuart Brannon’s Final Shot, Book 7 in the Stuart Brannon Series, a Selah Award Finalist. Find out more about this family project at the Bly Books website blog: http://www.blybooks.com/
Ask for a list of Stephen Bly books here: Bly Books, P.O. Box 157, Winchester, Idaho 83555
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The Lewis & Clark Squad Series
Intrigue at the Rafter B Ranch
The Secret of the Old Rifle
Treachery at the River Canyon
Revenge at Eagle Island
Danger at Deception Pass
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Adventures on the American Frontier
Daring Rescue at Sonora Pass
Dangerous Ride Across Humboldt Flats
Mysterious Robbery on the Utah Plains
The Nathan T. Riggins Western Adventure Series
The Dog Who Would Not Smile
Coyote True
You Can Always Trust a Spotted Horse
The Last Stubborn Buffalo in Nevada
Never Dance with a Bobcat
Hawks Don't Say Goodbye
Retta Barre’s Oregon Trail Series
The Lost Wagon Train
The Buffalo's Last Stand
The Plain Prairie Princess
The Stuart Brannon Western Series
Hard Winter at Broken Arrow Crossing
False Claims at the Little Stephen Mine
Last Hanging at Paradise Meadow
Standoff at Sunrise Creek
Final Justice at Adobe Wells
Son of an Arizona Legend
Stuart Brannon’s Final Shot