Señor Martinez had accepted the offer to lead the pack train because he had needed a grubstake to get back to his claim. He would take them as far as the little town of Columbia, on the river by the same name. There, his duties and responsibilities would end. He had found gold and brought it back to San Francisco to deposit, but gambling and whoring had relieved him of most of it. The remainder had been stolen one night when he had stumbled out of a whorehouse with two women who had led him to the nearest alley. There, three men in military uniforms had pulled him into the alley and took the three remaining small sacks of gold dust he had hidden in his drawers. Martinez was a hard worker when sober but his own worst enemy, when drunk. He was knowledgeable and it was for this reason that he had been sought out. Martinez had also agreed because most of those in the train were Spanish.
Santiago returned to the campsite one evening after having gone to the river with Rosa. The water they carried back was incidental to the purpose of the journey. Don Emilio sat by the fire, tying and retying knots he was trying to master. Santiago said goodnight to Rosa and joined his father. The man looked sideways at his son and smiled.
“Santiago, why is it that although the river is no more than ten minutes away from here, it takes you more than an hour to return with such a small amount of water? And with two to carry, it does not seem that it would be such a task! Perhaps on your return you are both too exhausted to carry more?”
Don Emilio laughed as he slapped Santiago good-naturedly on the back.
“What do you mean, father?”
“Santiago do you think your father a fool? I am not too old to remember what I used to do when I could get a señorita away by herself!”
“It does not anger you?”
“No son. But remember a good craftsman never begins the cut unless he knows what he is carving and the quality of the material. No cut is made until he decides to complete the work. Do not whittle, my son, unless you know the results of your whittling and intend to take responsibility for it.”
Santiago felt the need to change the subject.
“Father, what will we do when we reach Columbia?”
Don Emilio smiled at how his son had sidestepped the issue and decided not to pursue it.
“Padre Juan Carlos advised we travel further up river. He has drawn a map that he says was shown to him by an old man who had stayed at the mission. The old man told him he had found much gold and had come back to San Francisco for his son and nephew to help with the excavation. When he arrived in town, he found that they had left for the hills. The old man had fallen ill and died.
“You have the map?”
Santiago was surprised that he had had no knowledge of this. He wondered why his father had waited until now to disclose it.
“I believe it a valuable map, my son. I have folded it and keep it hidden beneath the lining of my left shoe.”
“Why did the priest give it to you?”
“Padre Juan Carlos is not beyond being bitten by the gold bug. The excitement of what is going on has sparked his interest. He would love to go into the hills with the men. He is unable to do so. Perhaps he saw his opportunity to obtain some wealth in a different manner. I made him a promise that if the Blessed Virgin smiled upon us and helped us find this place, I would share whatever we found, with him. I would also give a good sum to the church. It is a promise that we must both share. Santiago if I am not here to do so, you fulfill it.”
“I will, Father. But I wish that you would stop talking as though you expected to die, for it is not how we should be thinking. And this makes me very uneasy.”
“I know son but we must be prepared for any event! We will discuss this at another time, but for now know that I place great trust in you. And this trust must be based on my knowing that you will be able to care for yourself.
“Now, about the map and where we should look…,”
“Will we go to this place alone or will we take someone with us?”
Don Emilio eyed his son. “Would you be asking if a certain young lady could accompany us? No, we will need to do this alone. Too many eyes and ears invite trouble, Santiago. I have heard many stories these past nights while you were out in the woods collecting water.”
Don Emilio spoke in a serious tone.
“The warmth of a campfire and the warmth of a bottle seem to loosen men’s tongues. What I have heard has not pleased me. Many men are in the hills not to find their own riches but to take it from those who work hard to get it. They kill them and claim the find as their own.”
‘What would we do if that happens?” Santiago began to get frightened.
“I would fight, my son. And you must also. It is why I have bought two pistols. When we arrive in Columbia we will spend time learning how to use them well.”
“You have bought one for me?”
“We will each need to defend what is ours!”
Santiago had seen almost all men wearing firearms and he had wished one of his own. He wondered how it would feel and what it would be like to carry a pistol on his hip.
“Could we not learn how to use them now? I would like to have mine.”
“These are not to be taken as playthings. We will wear and use them only when we are near the danger. It is too easy to resort to the use of one when an argument occurs. Remember the woman and the two men?”
Santiago mentioned no more about it. He knew his father would bring out the weapons when he felt it right.
Each day they traveled farther east Santiago, noticed the hills growing steeper and the air, colder. The trail Señor Martinez followed was well worn. They passed many prospectors going in the same direction and still others who were coming back. Those who were coming from the hills were all of the same opinion; the work was hard and in the end the effort was not worth the possibility of getting killed. They told of many who went into the mountains, never to be seen again. Some were found by other prospectors, their bodies riddled with bullets and partially eaten by wolves.
The pack-train passed numerous small settlements and all were aware of their approach as news traveled fast along the trail. They felt the animosity as they were shunned or refused service. It was believed that the new foreigners were coming to take the gold that rightfully belonged to the Americans. On three occasions the camp was ambushed and the mules and horses scattered in the late night hours. Twice they found the trail blocked by large trees that had been purposely felled. Yet they would not be deterred.
Santiago and his father worked hard to learn the new language. Many of the group could speak English and they offered help to those who could not. Classes were held at the campfire in the evening. Rose spoke English well enough to be understood. She helped Santiago and his father. She insisted they speak only English when they were together. Santiago liked speaking the language and he often rebuked his father when the man lapsed into his native tongue.
“What has the world come to when a father is reprimanded by his own son!” Don Emilio laughed as he jokingly admonished him.
Each day that passed brought father and son closer. Don Emilio’s admiration for Santiago increased. There was nothing the boy seemed unwilling to learn, and he learned rapidly. He was well liked by most because of his good nature and friendly smile. Some of the men had first thought of him as weak due to his slight build and moody, almost feminine disposition. With the regimen of daily work he grew in size so that his body became more beautiful. The shoulders grew broader and his chest became more defined. The plumpness of youth fell away and taut muscles rippled beneath his skin.
It was not by chance that he often worked without his shirt. He received a deep satisfaction from knowing there were those who looked for this display. Santiago was aware of his own beauty and used it to his advantage. He was always welcomed at any of the campsite fires and fed well by those who had become his friends. He felt sadness that these friendships would come to an end when it became necessary to break from the group.
CHAPTER SEVEN
These vicissitudes resulted in an even tighter bond between them. Many formed friendships and several spoke of plans to form partnerships. They believed it safer to work together and share the profits than to risk working alone and not having the strength to protect one’s property. Don Emilio had been approached by Rosa’s father to join a group he had formed. Don Emilio thanked him and said that he and his son preferred to work alone.
The town of Columbia had begun as a bend in the river where gold was found to be in plentiful supply. It became a boom town overnight and the sound of banging and pounding blended with the riotous noises of the salons and dance halls so that it continued from one day to the next uninterrupted. Those who could, slept whenever they could find the time or a moment of peace.
Calling it a town was just a means of dealing with its location. There seemed to be little permanence to the place. The trail out of the woods became its main street. Shacks, hotels, saloons, and other buildings of various purposes lined both sides. The river flowed on its southern end, a few hundred yards away. One of the more permanent buildings was the Government Assayer’s Office. Here, gold nuggets and dust were weighed and valued and the location of promising claims could be filed and registered.
The elevation of the area was such that snow fell daily. They had begun to find snow in the foothills and as they had climbed higher, flurries had turned into blinding snowstorms. Some had not realized the extent of the cold and had not been prepared, having to borrow or buy heavier clothing. Others made jackets of their blankets.
The Columbia River did not flow swiftly at this time of year. Much of the moisture falling in the mountains did not melt until the months of May and June. Water in the river was low, and much of the bank was exposed. Because the ground was frozen, digging was difficult and it was continued around the clock. Many worked in shifts, sometimes separated by only a few feet from each other. It was back-breaking work, standing in ice water for hours with the wind relentlessly blowing so that face and hands froze and all sense of feeling was lost. Many prospectors drank alcohol continuously to drive away the cold and numbness. It was not uncommon to see fingers and toes missing due to frostbite. The hours spent with back bent, digging and panning were excruciating. Sometimes the ten or thirteen hours would take its toll and a man would fall into the water from exhaustion. When this happened the body might be left to freeze until someone could take the time to bring it back to town for burial. The river had its price! Fires blazed on shore and digging continued throughout the night by the light of kerosene lanterns. Because of the continuous drinking and inclement weather, tempers were short and conflicts developed easily, often settled by one gunshot.
At larger operations men shoveled tons of earth into sluice boxes. Water poured down a chute to spill over the material. Men worked the sifters that washed off the lighter material of silt and sand, leaving the heavier rocks and finally the heaviest element, gold. They worked in blazing sun, downpours of rain, and throughout the night. Nothing deterred them except the calls of nature.
Santiago had never seen so many people in so small an area, except on board ship. He was not used to seeing so many nationalities and hearing so many tongues. His head reeled with the inability to understand. Camps scattered in outlying areas were of groups according to nationalities. Factions existed and tensions ran high. There were quarrels along the river at all times of day and night and the sound of gunfire was common. During the first three day the Calis were in Columbia, four men were killed. The first night after they had set up camp, Don Emilio brought out the cloth sack and took out two pistols. He handed one to Santiago and gave him a leather holster that could be worn around the waist.
“Tomorrow we go into the woods and you will learn to shoot!”
That evening Santiago left to get water. Although there were no bullets in it, the gun was at his side. Well off the trail, he waited for Rosa. Soon he heard her footsteps and called her name. Together they went to a shelter they had discovered the previous day, where they had left a blanket. The warmth of their bodies was sufficient to keep them comfortable even in the cold night air so long as they did not take too long to make love.
“Father will break camp and leave tomorrow,” she said. “I wish your father would have agreed to join us. Why did he not want to do so?”
Santiago knew he could say nothing about the map. “My father is a man who likes to be alone and on his own. He does not work well with others and has always been his own master. We will do better alone!”
“But Santiago, I will miss you so much! I will especially miss this!”
Rosa held his penis, the flesh feeling silken-smooth in her hand. She could sense the pounding of his heart in it.
“To have grown accustomed to this makes anything less, a poor substitute!”
With fondness she held him.
“In a few days you will have forgotten me, Rosa. There will be someone else to get your attention.”
“None will compare in beauty and size to you, my stallion. Have you seen other men..., they are an ugly lot..., smelling of sweat and grease. They disgust me. No Santiago, there will be no other to compare to you.”
“Perhaps we will see each other from time to time?”
He hoped this would be so. He had enjoyed her and he liked what she did to him when they made love. She had begun to take him in her mouth and other places, still, at no time did their experience compare with those he had shared with Fidel. Would anything ever equal those?
The air grew colder. Clouds had drifted in during the late afternoon and it would snow by morning. Rosa was reluctant to let him go, but she knew there was nothing she could do that would stop his departure. They parted with a promise to look for each other and to leave messages with the man at the assayer’s office.
Rosa walked back to camp alone. Santiago said he would stay behind as he wanted time to think. When the clouds broke he could see the stars as the moon shone a brilliant white. He wondered why he was not unhappy about leaving Rosa, and he sensed relief.
There was a sense of anticipation for what the coming days would bring. His eyes followed the path of fast-drifting clouds as many memories and faces passed through his mind. One moment he had been tracing the blackness of the shapes as they crossed a full moon and in the next, he became aware that much time had passed and that he had fallen asleep. He was very cold, still naked beneath the blanket. Santiago dressed and brought the blanket with him. There would be no further need for it there.
Don Emilio woke when he felt his son crawling beneath the covers and pressing himself against him.
“Santiago, you either went a very long way to find water or you had a long and satisfying good-bye with your Rosa!”
“You knew?”
Don Emilio chuckled as he settled himself for sleep. “Why do all sons think their fathers fools?”
“But father, I..., “
“No more need be said, Santiago. I thought my father one as well. Goodnight, son. Sleep well! Tomorrow we will spend much time learning to use the pistols. I hope you can use the one on your hip as well as you have used the one between your legs...”
Santiago remained silent and fell asleep with a smile on his face.
Snow had fallen during the night, but only enough to cover tracks and it had left a soft whiteness in the trees. They walked far enough away from the camp so the sound of gunfire would not be heard in town. They used branches, pieces of bark, and small patches of cloth as targets. Don Emilio had fired a pistol before and was able to show his son the fundamentals. The precision and accuracy would come with practice and patien
ce. By afternoon, Santiago was hitting the things he aimed to hit even if the shot was not always where he had wanted it to be. By the time they were ready to leave in the evening when the sun began to set, Santiago could use the pistol adequately for defense.
Two days after they arrived in Columbia, they packed the mule and began the journey north. Don Emilio had studied the map with his son. In the light of a lantern they had traced the course of the river. The map contained numerous references to identify where the strike had been made. A trail would lead them from Columbia to a place called Long Barn. Near this place they would find signs left by the old man, to mark the spot where he had found the gold.
Long Barn was not a name they had heard mentioned by anyone and they were concerned about asking of its whereabouts less they cause unnecessary curiosity. Don Emilio wondered if the place might have been a figment of the old man’s imagination. He thought it best to ask the government agent, for surely he could be trusted!
Santiago stood watch for most of the morning, waiting for the agent’s office to clear of people. When he saw the agent alone he ran to the saloon and informed his father. In broken English Don Emilio asked if he could have a moment of the agent’s time in private. The agent’s interest was piqued and he led them to the rear of the building after placing a sign on the door that the office was closed. Don Emilio edged about the topic of his discussion, trying to assess the man for some sign of security and reliability, wondering just how much trust he could place in him.
Samuel Stilman knew enough Spanish to converse. He made it easier for the man to speak by leading him, as Stilman had a feel for these situations. Yes, there was a Long Barn several miles upriver from Columbia. No, he had not heard of much activity there but there had been gold found in the area. Stilman noticed the man’s edginess. He could tell the man and boy were newcomers. The boy was young and handsome, a lad keenly aware of how he was being scrutinized! Stilman wondered if the older man was the boy’s father or..., no, there were too many similarities in their looks. Strikingly beautiful, the boy was almost too pretty..., yet he was definitely masculine..., Stilman had noticed the evidence of his sex when he had entered and knew the boy had noticed his interest.
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