Into the Unknown

by David Thompson

  “That makes sense,” Jordy Hook said.

  “I have two conditions,” Blue Water Woman informed them. “The first is that once you have your gold, Robert Parker and I are to be set free.”

  Jess smirked. “Like I said, I can be reasonable. What is the second?”

  “As I asked you before, that you stop calling me squaw. To me that is an insult. Either use my name or do not call me anything.”

  Cutter started toward her, growling, “Uppity red bitch.”

  “Now, now,” Jess said, holding up a hand. “Let her be. She’s making things easy for us, so it won’t hurt us to go easy on her.”

  Jordy Hook said, “It won’t kill you to be nice until we get there.”

  Cutter stopped, but he was not happy. “Exactly how long will it take, anyhow?”

  “Good question.” Jess looked at Blue Water Woman.

  “Five days,” she said.

  “It’s not somewhere close?”

  Blue Water Woman extended a finger toward the south end of the valley. “The vein is high on a mountain, at the base of a cliff.”

  “And how did your husband find it?” Jess asked. He did not sound convinced.

  “He was searching for signs of a pass. We found one to the west and Nate King set off a keg of powder to close it.”

  “Why in hell would he do that?”

  “So anyone who might harm us cannot enter our valley without us being aware. We want only the one way in and out.”

  “Have you seen this vein with your own eyes?” Jess asked.

  Blue Water Woman nodded. “The gold is mixed with quartz, but there is more gold than quartz”

  “How much, would you say?”

  “I do not know how far in the veins goes,” Blue Water Woman said. “But one band of yellow is as long as I am tall, and as wide as this coffeepot.”

  “Sweet Jesus!” Jordy exclaimed.

  “We’ll be richer than John Jacob Aster,” Jess said.

  Cutter cursed and glanced sourly at each of the brothers in turn. “Lunkheads. I am partnered with lunkheads. So what if she shows us the vein? How do we dig the gold out? With our fingers?”

  Jess stiffened. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “Set your minds at ease,” Blue Water Woman said. “My husband did not want to keep taking his tools back and forth so he cached them near the vein. A pick and shovel and other things.”

  “Perfect!” Jordy declared. “Just perfect!”

  “Too perfect, if you ask me,” Cutter remarked.

  “Listen to yourself,” Jess Hook said. “Our wish is about to come true and all you do is gripe. What good would it do her to lie when she knows what we would do to her and Parker?”

  “I’m just saying we shouldn’t trust her until we see the gold ourselves,” Cutter said.

  “That goes without saying. Now simmer down, will you? Five days from now we’ll be the happiest gents alive. If it turns out she’s lying, we’ll just go back to our original plan.”

  “Let’s head out as soon as we have had some coffee,” Jordy proposed. “The sooner we start, the sooner we get there.”

  Blue Water Woman poured when the coffee was ready. The brothers joked and laughed. Cutter, though, was in a foul temper, and no amount of friendly coaxing by the Hooks could change his mood.

  For my own part, I was depressed. I was disappointed in Blue Water Woman, disgusted with our captors, and dismayed that I would not be able to paint or sketch until our ordeal was over. Or would I? I put the question to Jess Hook, who blinked and regarded me as he might a snake with wings.

  “Don’t you beat all.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Your life is at stake, and all you can think of is the silly work you do?” Jess chortled. “Sure, mister, sure. You can draw and paint, so long as you behave. But mind you, We’ll be in the saddle most of the time, and we’re not stopping just so you can draw some bird or bug.”

  “What sort of man are you?” Jordy Hook asked me. “Playing with brushes is not fit for a grown-up.”

  His absurdity angered me. “What are you talking about? The work I do is for science. For expanding the boundaries of human knowledge.”

  Jess Hook whistled. “Listen to you! You never use a small word when a big one will do, huh?”

  “I am only saying naturalists are important.”

  Jordy said, “You can puff yourself up as much as you want, but I know silly when I see it and what you do is plumb silly.”

  I have often wondered how some people can be so dense between the ears. Granted, no two minds are alike, and granted, just as there are sharp razors and dull razors, so, too, are there sharp minds and dull minds. But honestly. How mental sluggards like Jordy Hook can remember to take their next breath is beyond me.

  If that seems harsh, it is only because I have been teased before about my profession. People look at me askance, as if cataloging the creatures we share this planet with suggests I am crazy. One fellow of my acquaintance referred to me as “that guy who chases butterflies.” Another once called me, and I quote, “the loon who likes animals more than people.”

  In any event, the rest of that afternoon was a blur. I was lost inside myself, and except for having to tug on the rope to my packhorse now and again, I was oblivious to the world around me.

  I did vaguely note that we were giving the valley floor a wide berth, and staying high enough up and in heavy enough timber that it was unlikely anyone would spot us, even through a spyglass.

  Their dull intellects notwithstanding, the Hook brothers were cautious and clever.

  Toward sunset we stopped for the night. Blue Water Woman was told to cook a rabbit Cutter killed with a knife. I saw him do it, and I cannot quite believe what I saw. We were in among spruce when the rabbit bolted from cover. It took a few bounds and then, perhaps out of curiosity, stopped to stare at us.

  Cutter was the last in line, and it so happened that the rabbit stopped near him. His hand moved, and metal gleamed in the sun, all so fast that had I blinked I would have missed it. The rabbit leaped high into the air, a knife stuck in its side. It kicked convulsively, then was still.

  I was impressed. Considerable skill is required to throw a knife with speed and accuracy.

  Now, sitting by the fire and watching the rabbit slowly roast on a spit, I wrapped my arms around my knees and racked my brain for a way out of our predicament. The Hook brothers and Cutter were over by the horses, talking in low tones. About us, I guessed. Venting a sigh, I remarked to Blue Water Woman, “This is a fine mess we are in.”

  “Those are the first words you have said to me since noon. I thought you had lost the power of speech.”

  “How can you make light of our plight?” I responded. “We are in the company of killers, pawns to their every whim.”

  “It is worse than you think.”

  “That is not possible,” I assured her. “The only thing worse would be if we were dead.”

  Blue Water Woman leaned toward me and whispered, “There is no gold, Robert.”

  “What?”

  “I lied. There is no cliff, no vein, no gold.”

  I was dumbfounded.

  “Are you all right?”

  It was all I could do to keep my voice down. “Do you realize what you have done? Do you know how mad those three will be? They will slit our throats for sure.”

  “They intend to anyway,” Blue Water Woman said. “They have no intention of letting us go.”

  “Why the charade? What do you hope to gain?”

  “Five days of life. Five days in which, as you whites say, to turn the tables. Five days in which we must do to them as they plan to do to us.”

  That gave me pause. “Wait a minute. Are you suggesting we kill them?”

  “If we do not, we are dead. And I very much enjoy being alive.” Blue Water Woman reached over and placed a hand on my leg. “Understand this, Robert. It is us or them.”

  “You expect too much of me,” I
said. “I have never killed anyone. I don’t know as I can. Frankly, it amazes me that anyone can take another human life.”

  She studied me, then said, “When I was a child, our village was raided. More than once. I saw the bodies of people I cared for. I saw an uncle who had been gutted, and his intestines hanging out. I saw a girl, a close friend, whose head had been bashed in with a war club. I stood over her and watched as her brains oozed out.”

  “We come from different worlds,” I remarked.

  “There is more. Among my people, the men are the fighters, the warriors. But Salish women are expected to fight, too, when the need arises. When our villages are attacked, the women resist fiercely.”

  I surmised what she was leading to. “You have killed before then, I take it?”

  “Only when I had to. The first time, I was eleven—”

  “Dear Lord.”

  “—a Piegan had my brother on the ground and was about to stab him when I ran up and plunged a knife into the Piegan’s neck. I can still feel his blood on my hand and arm, still see his eyes widen and hear his gasps.”

  “I could not do that.”

  “I need to know I can count on you, Robert. I cannot best all three of them alone.” Blue Water Woman gave a barely perceptible nod at our captors, then whispered, “Will you help, Robert? Are you with me?”

  I looked into her eyes and would have agreed to anything. Swallowing, I said, “I am with you to the extent that I will do what I can to help. But I do not think I can do the actual killing.”

  “Leave that to me, then,” Blue Water Woman said. “When it happens, it will happen fast. So be ready.” She had more to say, but just then the brothers came over to the fire.

  “What are you two jabbering about?” Jess Hook asked.

  “Our plight,” I said. “And how happy we will be after she shows you the gold and you let us go.” I said it to test his reaction, closely watching his face as I did, and for the briefest of instants I saw in his eyes that Blue Water Woman was right; they had no intention of permitting us to go free.

  I assumed Blue Water Woman would wait a day or two before she made her bid to escape. That is what I would do. I would lull them into thinking I was going along with them, and catch them when their guard was down.

  Even so, I spent the evening in a state of nervous expectation. The rabbit was delicious, but I did not eat much. After our meal, the brothers and Cutter sat and talked about their previous escapades. Although “escapades” does not do their evil natures justice. They casually mentioned people they had killed and laughed about gruesome deeds they had committed.

  At one point Jess said, “Do you remember that family in the wagon? The settlers who aimed to build a cabin in the foothills?”

  Jordy chuckled. “The husband sure was a trusting soul. The look on his face when Cutter stuck him!”

  Cutter’s cruel features curled in one of his rare grins. “I got him low down, and he squealed like a stuck pig. It took the yack a long time to die.”

  Is it any wonder my thoughts turned to the dark depths to which a perverse soul may sink? I slept fitfully, tossing and turning, and must have woken up half a dozen times.

  Toward dawn my eyes suddenly opened. I lay on my back, staring up at the stars and contemplating the fickle nature of fate. It depressed me, so I rolled onto my side to try and get back to sleep.

  For a few seconds I could not make sense of what I was seeing.

  Jess Hook and Cutter were snoring. Jordy Hook was supposed to be keeping watch. He was seated by the fire, which had dwindled to tiny flames, his forehead on his knee, his rifle by his side. He had dozed off.

  An arm’s length from him, on her belly, was Blue Water Woman. As I set eyes on her, she slid one arm forward, then a leg.

  She was not waiting a day or two.

  She was making her bid now.

  My insides churned. If Jordy or one of the others woke up, there was no telling what they would do to her.

  Blue Water Woman inched forward. She was close enough now to touch him. Her hand snaked toward the knife on Jordy’s hip. He mumbled in his sleep, and she froze. When he stopped, she extended her arm all the way and lightly grasped the hilt.

  I scarcely breathed. I glanced at Jess and Cutter. They slept on, undisturbed.

  Blue Water Woman started to ease the knife from its sheath. She had it almost out when that which I feared most, occurred.

  Jordy Hook grunted, opened his eyes and sat up.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Some moments we never forget. They are indelibly seared into our memories. When we think of them, they are as fresh as when they happened.

  This was one of those moments for me. I thought for sure Jordy would yell and the others would leap up, with dire consequences.

  But quick as lightning, Blue Water Woman drew his knife and plunged it into his ribs. Jordy’s back arched and his mouth opened. She clamped her other hand over his lips before he could yell, and like a punctured water skin he deflated and sank onto his side on top of his rifle. She tugged at the weapon, but it would not come free. She snatched one of his pistols instead. Then, yanking the knife out and beckoning to me, she rose into a crouch and moved toward the horses.

  I was on my feet and at her heels in a twinkling. I was stunned, my mind sluggish. We were halfway to the string when I realized that if we rode off, I would have to leave my journal, paintings and sketches behind. I could not do that. I stopped.

  Blue Water Woman reached the first horse. She glanced back, and motioned.

  I shook my head. I refused to leave my work in the hands of cutthroats who might destroy it.

  She motioned a second time, urgently.

  I had to make her understand. I hurried toward her to explain.

  That was when the horse, apparently smelling the blood on the knife, whinnied.

  Jess Hook rose onto his elbows. He saw his brother. He saw us. His hand swooped to his pistols and he roared, “Cutter! They’re trying to get away!”

  Fingers wrapped around my arm, and I was pulled bodily into the dark. I did not resist. Too much was happening too fast.

  A flintlock boomed and lead buzzed past my ear. Suddenly my life took precedence over my work, and when Blue Water Woman broke into a run, so did I. Fortunately, she retained her grip on my arm. It was pitch-black in the forest, and I could barely see her. Trees and other objects streaked by. How she managed, I can’t say.

  The crackle of underbrush warned me of pursuit. From the sounds, only one of them was after us. I suspected it was Cutter. Jess would be checking Jordy; his rage would be boundless.

  Blue Water Woman was uncanny. She threaded swiftly through the trees, avoiding obstacles with a facility that made me marvel. And she did so while making no more noise than a wraith. I wish I could say the same, but compared to her, I was a blundering ox.

  I stepped on a dry twig. At the crunch, the night behind us flared with thunder and a tree I was passing thudded to the impact of a slug. I ran faster.

  Soon we came to a slope and started down. I was running blind, relying completely on Blue Water Woman.

  A sudden blow to the forehead rocked me on my heels. I had blundered into a low tree limb. Everything spun. My knees were wobbly. I staggered and groped for Blue Water Woman. Her hands found my arm, and she pulled me down to the ground and placed a palm over my mouth. Her warm lips brushed my ear.

  “Be still, Robert.”

  Cutter was crashing toward us. Apparently he had thrown stealth to the wind. The crashing stopped about fifteen feet away, and I spied his silhouette. He cursed and turned right and left.

  He had lost us!

  From the camp came a shout.

  “Cutter! Get back here! Jordy’s hurt bad! I need your help right away!”

  Swearing anew, Cutter wheeled and flew back up the mountain.

  I was both elated and vexed. Elated that we had gotten away but vexed at leaving my work, which was everything to me. I was also distu
rbed that Jordy still lived.

  Blue Water Woman did not move. I was growing impatient when she at last whispered in my ear, “We can go on.”

  “You, not me,” I said.

  Her face loomed so near that our noses practically touched. “What are you saying, Robert?”

  “I can’t leave my work. All I have gone through will have been in vain.”

  “You cannot go back. They will kill you.”

  “Maybe not,” I said hopefully. “But it is a risk I must take. In the meantime, fetch your husband and the Kings.” I started to stand, but she still had hold of my arm and did not let go. “Release me, if you please.”

  “I cannot let you do this.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” I said. “The important thing is that you are safe.” Even more important were the fruits of my weeks of labor, but I did not come right out and say that.

  “When I said I cannot let you, I meant it.” So saying, Blue Water Woman pressed the tip of the blade against the back of my right hand. A sharp pain shot up my arm. I tried to recoil but she held me fast.

  “What in God’s name are you doing?” I demanded.

  “You are coming with me whether you want to or not. Refuse, and you will never paint another animal or make another entry in your journal unless you learn to do so with your other hand.”

  Her meaning was clear. “You wouldn’t!”

  “I will save you however I must.”

  “It is my decision to make, not yours. You have no right to force me against my will.”

  “I will not have your death on my conscience.” Without taking the tip of the knife from my hand, Blue Water Woman pulled me to my feet and we resumed our flight.

  I was horror-struck. One misstep, and the blade would slice into my hand, severing tendons and nerves.

  Gradually, my horror gave way to simmering fury. We had gone about two hundred yards and I had lost sight of the campfire when I drew up short. “Take that knife away this instant.”

  “Will you stay with me if I do?”

  “Are all the Salish so stubborn?” I rejoined.

  “We do not let those we care for die for no reason.”