The Traherns #1

by Nancy Radke

  “Mahala? You all right?”

  “Yes. You?”

  “The first one nicked me with his lance before I could get my rifle up.”

  “Where?”

  “My left arm. I think his hand hit the overhang and spoiled his aim. I shifted a little, too.”

  “How bad?”

  “Nothin, compared to that bear.”

  We tried to lead the horses across the dead men, but they wouldn’t go, so Luke rolled them onto the side where there was a little extra cliff sticking out and dropped them onto that.

  He took their knives. Good steel. He placed one on the ground where I could get it as I passed by. We carried them with us across the mountain trail. We didn’t encounter any more Indians, but we did come upon a cougar that was desirous of passing. He had quite a time making up his mind to let us go through. We could see it didn’t sit right with him, but he finally left the trail and circled around below us. He could leave the trail, but we still couldn’t, although it had widened here, giving our skittish horses some dancing room. If we’d met him on the overhang section, we would probably have had to shoot him.

  The trail broadened, finally, and I took some of Luke’s old bandages that I’d washed and saved, and bound up his arm. It was more than a scratch, but hadn’t gone deep into his arm.

  Now, traveling together, you just learn some of the other person’s habits and likes and quirks. Luke liked things clean. He kept a neat camp and picked up after himself. He treated Pride well, and talked to him kindly. Like a good pair of shoes, we got more and more comfortable together. And like a good team of horses, we shared the load, learning to work together.

  The only blot on my liking the fellow was his insistence on taking that there gold pan with him. He took more care of it than himself.

  The notch opened up into a whole range of mountains, one on top of another, as far as we could see. The view from the top of the pass was spectacular, but it was cold and so we didn’t linger.

  Those mountains were unlike any I’d seen before. They weren’t limestone with gentle ridges and large caves. They were solid granite, the Rockies, and they made what I had called mountains look like foothills.

  “Granite. Here’s where the gold is found,” Luke said.

  I wanted to take that gold pan of his and hit him with it, preferably over the head, to see if I could knock some sense into him. Instead I nodded and we rode off down the trail because clouds were forming.

  About an hour later, it started to snow, and we were still on that trail with no shelter in sight.

  “We’ll make camp as soon as we reach those trees,” Luke shouted back to me.

  I looked down. They seemed a mite small from this height, but where we were, right now, there were no trees. No caves. No clefts in the rock where we might take shelter. Just an open ridge with snow coming down, heavier and heavier.

  The snow made things slick, the footing bad. We rode at a fast walk, as fast as we could for as long as we could, then had to slow down for the horses began to slip and slide.

  Soon we were barely moving. The wind had picked up and the snow was coming in sideways. Luke got off Pride, and I dismounted too.

  “Can’t see much where I’m going,” he said when I walked forward to join him. “I’m afraid I’ll lead us off a cliff.”

  “We’ve got the rope,” I said. “I don’t want to tie onto a horse, but we can tie to each other. We can’t stop here.”

  “We’ll do that.”

  He tied one end around his waist and I took the other end and walked back to Rosie. I got to thinking that he could pull me off with him, so I took the end of that rope and laid it over the saddle horn. Just one loop, so I could let go of it if Rosie fell, but if Luke fell, she’d be able to hold him.

  We slipped and slid down that mountain, hoping we were still on the trail. The snow got deeper, I got colder, and exhausted. I didn’t know how Luke kept going. He had to break trail. I was following Pride, so had a better time of it.

  With the wind blowing the snow around, it started to drift. Big drifts. It made the going almost impossible. As the horses fought through the drifts, the snow formed large snowballs under each hoof, so it was like they were walking on stilts. We had to stop and knock the snowballs off every few yards. They started to form again immediately.

  We weren’t going to make it. I started looking for a place where we could dig into the snow and make us a snow cave. We’d probably lose the horses.

  Then we rounded a corner of the mountain, and the wind hit us full force. It also blew the snow away, so here it was just a few inches.

  Somehow Luke was still on the trail. I was beginning to believe in his luck.

  We cleared their hooves, then hurried to get ourselves off the bare mountain and into the trees.

  The first trees were scrawny and barely tall enough to call trees, but as we descended, they quickly became tall and stately. They blocked the wind, so the snow was around a foot deep in them. I was stumbling and falling with each step and Rosie was stumbling, too. We were following Luke and Pride into a sheltered area, when Rosie caught her foot in the rope and fell on me.

  She caught me between herself and a sharp rock and I felt my leg snap, just above the ankle. She scrambled to her feet, but I stayed down.

  Had I broken one of the bones, or both?

  I waited, and soon Luke appeared.

  “Mahala? What happened?”

  “Rosie fell on me. I’ve got a broken bone in my leg. Hopefully just the one.”

  “I’ll carry you—”

  “No. Make a camp for us. As close to here as possible. Get me a couple of sticks to use as a splint, then come back for me.”

  “I found a spot. That’s why I left the trail.”

  “I’ll be out of your way here. Hurry, but take care. We don’t want both of us hurt.”

  He left and I could hear him tromping down the snow, then the axe as he chopped branches. I put my gloved hands under my armpits. If I had been alone on this mountain, I would probably have died here. Even with Luke breaking trail, it was all I could do to get this far.

  I rested. Slept.

  “Mahala.” Luke was standing next to me with two sticks and a bandage in his hand. “Which leg?”

  I pointed at it and he bound the sticks tight. He pulled me upright, then got behind me and lifted me enough to lay my upper body across Rosie’s saddle.

  “Can you hang on?”

  “Yes.”

  He led her down into a hollow area where he had built a shelter of branches, about fifty yards off the trail.

  “The snow will cover our tracks,” he said, “so if we have to stay here awhile, we’ll be hard to find. We both need to heal.”

  I used him as a crutch and he brought me inside, helped me lie down on some pine branches, and then he went back outside to tend to the horses.

  He’d picked a good spot, with a couple of tall trees to flank the lean-to. He brought in our gear and supplies and put it next to me. He pulled out all five blankets, and put them on me. Then he brought in wood for a fire.

  He cut off the needle end of each branch and added it to our shelter, then stacked the rest of the branch as wood. It was twilight when he finished.

  “How you doing?” he asked, ducking his head as he entered the shelter.

  “I’m cold. I can’t stop shivering. I almost can’t feel my leg.”

  “That’s not good.” He came in and knelt behind me and commenced to rub my arms and hug me warm. It took a bit, but the shivering finally stopped. Then my leg hurt.

  “I’ll get the fire started,” he said. “As soon as it gets going good, it should help. I’d look at that break, but it will probably be too swollen to feel anything.”

  “I agree. Our best chance at getting it straight is after it stops swelling. Have you ever set a bone?”

  “A little. I helped my pa set his leg. He was able to walk fine after it healed. And I fixed my dog’s leg, when a cow stepped on
him.”

  Luke got a fire going and then set about arranging things in the shelter. There wasn’t much room.

  “We’re up pretty high,” he said as he scooped some snow into the pots and put them on the fire. “These might not get very hot.”

  “As long as it’s warm and water, that’s what counts. Pa had some dried beans in his pack. Put a handful in one of those after we’ve drunk what we need, let them soak overnight.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll put out your snares once the snow stops and I find tracks.”

  “I don’t think there will be rabbits this far up.”

  “There’s a little rabbit-like animal, a coney. I saw a few before the snow started.”

  “I could do with that bearskin, if we had had time to tan the hide.”

  He laughed. “I hope you don’t mind spooning.”

  Spooning meant sleeping on your sides, with the taller person behind the other one so your bodies fit together. It kept both people warm.

  “Fine with me. I don’t intend to freeze.” I would have the fire in front of me and him behind me. I’d be a lot warmer than him. Hurting, but warm.

  He put our guns by our heads, then piled branches where I could reach them, along with a longer stick I could use to round up the fire.

  He arranged the blankets and settled down behind me, moving close, careful of my leg. I used his arm for a pillow, and fell asleep, warm and comfortable.

  I woke, much later, my leg hurting, saw the fire had almost gone out, and used the poke stick to round it up. I added more wood, then fell into a lighter sleep. It didn’t give me too much rest, but I did keep the fire going.

  Luke slept through it all. I think he had used up all his energy to get us to shelter, and just didn’t have any more to spare. Like a mother with a sick baby, I could almost sense the fire getting low, and would wake up and replenish it. So we went through the night.

  I had never slept snuggled up against another person, but it sure made sense. My backside stayed toasty and we both got more rest than if we were sleeping single.

  The next morning I was so thirsty, I could hardly wait for Luke to melt the snow and give me a drink. My leg was still too swollen to set.

  Now it’s not supposed to be proper for a man to even look at a woman’s ankles, but Luke rolled up my pant’s leg and looked at the break to make sure nothing had come through the skin. He wrapped some snow-cooled cloths on it, changing them ever so often to bring down the swelling.

  We hadn’t had time to hunt while we were on the dangerous part of the trail, and Luke considered going out now.

  “Wait a day,” I suggested. “I’d like my leg splinted before you leave. Then if something happens to you, I’d at least have a chance to find you.”

  “I’ll be all right.”

  “That’s what Pa said when he left me. I have a piece of dried ham in my saddlebag, some jerky. Cut the ham into chunks and toss it into the beans. And throw in some salt. Soon as they’re tender we can eat.”

  It seemed to take all day to cook those beans, we were up so high on the mountain. The water acted like it was boiling, but it wasn’t very hot.

  We ate while the beans were still a little crunchy, but the salt and ham made it right tasty, and when you are hungry, even groundhog would taste good.

  That afternoon, Luke went out to set the snares and came back with a porcupine he’d found in a tree. He had knocked it out of the tree with a branch, killed it and brought it back. He skinned it out a good distance from the camp so that the wolves wouldn’t follow the smell to us, then brought it in and set it on the coals.

  Porcupine is good eating. Pa had told me of many a trapper who had saved his life eating porcupine, and Luke and I had a feast. It filled us up in a way the few beans hadn’t.

  It snowed again that night. We slept together same as the first night, spooned in side by side, and I got to thinking that it was something I could get used to mighty fast.

  It snowed again that night, a late spring snow that kept us in our camp. Luke measured and whittled two sticks flat and smooth for me. He was finally able to put on the splint. He had to pull on my leg to straighten the bone, which hurt something awful, but he got it straight. Then he put on the splint.

  He did a good job of it. We decided only one bone was broke. The other might be cracked, but it had stayed lined up and felt all right.

  We stayed more days, while my leg got a start healing. Neither one of us felt any hurry to move on. It was as if we had run out of fuel and needed to rest up long enough to replenish it.

  We talked. I told him about growing up at the store. About my mother, who was so strong in her own way. And of my Pa, adventuresome and gentle.

  He told me about growing up in the mountains of Tennessee. About moving rocks so that plants could grow, only to find more rocks. Rocks on top of rocks, is the way he described it. He mentioned his mother, who was a schoolteacher, who raised a brood of boys and taught them all. Except Luke would rather be out in the woods than getting book learning, and would slip out after breakfast while she had her back turned, and not come back until night. Their Pa gave up on him.

  Then the war came and changed everything. John lost part of an arm. Matthew came home on a tall stallion and left after a year, and Mark and Luke left to find a way to help John.

  “John’s good with the books, so I figure a small store where he can hire one man to help him.”

  “Or a banking job.” I said. “Have you asked him what he wants to do? You might feel mighty foolish buying him a business and finding out it’s not what he wants.”

  “He’s not going to be able to do much.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. We had a one-armed man in our town who went around from place to place and fixed things.”

  “A tinker?”

  “Yes.”

  “How’d he do it?”

  “He used his legs a lot of the time, as a second hand. You’d be amazed at what he could do. If he wanted something, he’d just figure out how to do it. He had a strap and a hook he’d use sometimes. So don’t go choosing a store without consulting your brother.”

  “I guess we were sort of limiting him.”

  “Don’t. Let him find what he can do. The fellow in our town wouldn’t let anyone help him unless he asked them to. He always tried to do it himself first.”

  My leg was sore, but the splint made it so I could hobble around a little. Luke decided to go out and hunt, to try to get us some meat for the next leg of the journey, which was going to be through these endless mountains.

  He came back sooner than I expected, excited.

  “You have to come, Mahala. It’s a small hot spring, back in a cave. It’s full of minerals. I think it will be healing, as well as make you feel good.”

  He put me on his back and carried me there. It really wasn’t that far away. He stood outside while I hobbled into the cave.

  This was a strange country of hot springs and salty water. I stripped and slipped into that water and soaked. And soaked.

  “Mahala? Are you all right in there?”

  “Yes, Luke. I haven’t felt this good in ages. I should come out and let you get in.”

  “I can do it later. Take your time.”

  I wished I had a bar of soap, but I scooped up a handful of sand and rubbed with it and felt all tingly and good. Luke was right. It was better than a full stomach.

  I crawled out and dried off, stripping the excess water with my fingers before putting on my clothes again. I called Luke to come in and re-wrap my leg. Then I hobbled out and took up guard while he stayed in the cave.

  I could hear him splashing about and murmuring with pleasure and realized I had probably been making the same sounds. Then quiet, as he also soaked for awhile.

  I was close enough to the entrance to feel the heat coming out, but had cooled off by the time Luke appeared.

  “How you doing?” he asked.

  “My leg is beginning to throb, but it was worth it. I fee
l better than I have in days.”

  He handed me the rifle and put me on his back again, carrying me back to camp through the snow. The snow wasn’t too deep in the woods, most of it still hung on the trees.

  As we neared our camp we heard a roar and a great commotion of frightened horses and breaking wood. I slipped off Luke’s back and he grabbed the rifle and ran forward.

  “Careful,” I called, but knew he didn’t have time to be. I held my breath, trying to hear what was going on. By the sounds, a bear was in our camp, going after the horses.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  A shot was followed closely by another one. Then a third and fourth. If Luke was shooting the bear, I could only hope he was faring better than his first encounter with one.

  They were coming out of hibernation, hungry, grouchy, and plumb dangerous.

  I heard the sound of hoof beats and heard Luke yell.

  I couldn’t stand it no longer. I hopped as well as I could through the snow, afraid of what I would find.

  Luke had killed the bear, but not before it had tore up our shelter and scattered our things. The horses were gone.

  “What bad luck,” Luke said. “He came while we were gone.”

  “That’s good luck,” I said. “We weren’t here when he came, so you had time to come in prepared to shoot.”

  “The horses are gone.”

  “The horses are alive. And probably not gone far. You start after them while I cut us some bear meat. Make sure he’s dead first.”

  Luke took his knife and slit the bear’s throat, bleeding him properly, and making sure he was dead at the same time. He reloaded, grabbed a bridle and a rope, and ran off down the trail.