Sagebrush Serenade

by Jeanie P Johnson

  As they sat around their fires, the Braves beat their drums, some chanting, while others hummed the songs they had learned that night, as they beat their drums to the music. It sounded eerie to Marcel hearing the Indians humming the songs, giving them a strange exotic twist as they embellished the music with their own Indian style.

  It seemed the warriors never tired. Even as she and Raven laid together in her cot, the chants filled the night air, clear until dawn.

  When morning came, the Chiefs bid Raven farewell and the large gathering of warriors followed, placing themselves back upon the rise to await any more whites who dared cross over their land. Marcel hoped the future companies, who passed there, would have as good of luck as she and her two friends had, persuading the Chiefs to let them pass.

  Once they were able to continue, the wagon was pulled through a long, winding canyon, leading into Grand Ronde Valley. The road was quite rough, especially the last mile and a half to the canyon bottom. Red clover and various valley grasses covered the ground and were dotted with white clover blossoms as well. Streams, thickly lined with timber, were filled with fish. The forested mountains, surrounding them, made a good place for Raven to find game.

  Once they left Grand Ronde, they began ascending the Blue Mountains, which was the last big barrier before reaching the Columbia River. It took four days to cover the fifty-mile trail. The first two days, they traveled up hills so steep that Trapper Dan had to hitch the two horses up with the mules to help pull the wagon to the top. Once they descended, they traveled over a rocky trail that ran alternately through open prairie and timber. The grass was dry, but beneath the trees, the rich green grass grew in abundance for the mules and horses to eat. Then they descended a mile-long hill to Grand Ronde River and made camp along the river shore.

  Marcel was feeling anxious as they got closer to the Dalles. They were on the last leg of their journey, and then everything would change for her, she worried.

  “Don’t worry,” Raven told her, as he led her out to the river to bath with him. “Once we get to Oregon, I will find your brother and make sure he helps you after you arrive. Trapper Dan and I will build your shelter so you will be snug and warm over the winter. We will chop wood so you will have plenty of fuel to last until spring. You are a brave woman. I know you will be fine, once we leave. Then come spring, we promise to return.”

  “What if my brother went to California with the others who chose not to continue to Oregon? It would be just like him to do that.”

  Raven shrugged. “There are many people going to Oregon. They are your people. Surely, there will be many there willing to help their own kind,” he offered.

  Marcel nodded. She could tell he had no plans to remain to help her out, and she did not want to beg him to stay with her. So Marcel pretended that everything would be just fine, once she got her plot of land.

  Raven began washing her body, tenderly, but Marcel was distracted with her thoughts and worries. She glanced down at her stomach to see if she looked any bigger than before. Raven’s hand was smoothing over her stomach with a cloth, and she hoped he did not notice anything different. She closed her eyes at the feel of his hand caressing her, knowing there would be only a few short weeks before she would not feel his hand again for a very long time if not forever.

  She willingly surrendered to his touch and welcomed him to her, wanting to savor every moment spent in his arms, yet Raven could tell there was something wrong. She was worrying too much, he thought. She was strong. That was what he liked about her. He had to believe she could make it on her own. When he returned to his village, he would find himself a wife before he returned to build on her larger house. That way, he could put the thought of her behind him and not be tempted when he returned in the spring, he told himself. The thought made him feel desperate as he showered his love over Marcel. Once he left, he would never be able to touch her again like this, even if he returned.

  For the next several days, the landscape remained the same, with green forest and small prairies along streams that were sometimes hard to access. Then they came to the bottom of the ravine.

  Coming out of Blue Mountain, the trail was almost all downhill. They made camp on the Umatilla River. In the distance, they could see the Cascades and other mountains that were rising from the valley floor, with Mt. Hood appearing as a white sentinel above them all.

  Umatilla was the home of the Cayuse Indian Chief and his band who had come to stop them from crossing Indian land. When he saw the wagon, he came with some of his braves and insisted Marcel play the magic box for them once again, and she happily obliged.

  Once they broke up camp, the cumbersome wagon continued to travel down the Umatilla River, crossing it twice, then leaving it and trucking over rolling hills. The Walla Walla Indians who had threatened them earlier, now acted like old friends, wanting to trade with them and asking Marcel to play the magic box for them as well. The story of Marcel’s magic box seemed to have passed through both the Cayuse and Walla Walla villages. As they camped along the river, many brought potatoes and venison, sharing it with them as they listened to Marcel’s music.

  Marcel was glad to leave the Walla Walla and Cayuse behind, as they headed for the Columbia River. It had been an exciting adventure, but Marcel was eager to settle in Civilized country where she did not have to worry about appeasing wild Indians with something they believed was magic.

  She shouted for joy inside and could not believe the trying journey was almost over. Only it would be a bitter-sweet ending, she thought, knowing that she only had the time it took to get the rest of the way to Oregon and however long it took Trapper Dan and Raven to build her shelter, to enjoy Raven’s company. She would even miss Trapper Dan as much, she thought.

  After leaving their camp, Marcel seemed to be sparked with renewed energy as they move on towards John Day River. Sometimes the ground was solid and other times, the wagon sunk deep in the sand or bumped along over hard, uneven stones. The trail followed the bank of the Columbia, going up and down steep hills and over bluffs. Many of their camps were made at the foot of high basalt cliffs. There was no wood or even buffalo chips to build fires with and they were reduced to eating cold meals. Three miles before they reached John Day River, the road climbed a steep bluff and, once again, they were forced to use the horses to help pull the wagon over the top. No sooner had they reached the top, when they were faced with another bluff, which sapped the mule team and horses.

  Raven and Marcel walked alongside the wagon so the team did not have to pull any more weight than necessary. Even Trapper Dan got out and led the team up the bluff by foot.

  The John Day River tumbled violently through a canyon and over rocks at a frightening speed. By that time, it seemed like the dangers of crossing rivers like that had just become an annoyance to Marcel. The river’s uneven, rocky-bottom was difficult to ford but it was accomplished with few problems. Trapper Dan looked proudly at Marcel as she brought Pebbles up onto the bank on the other side. She was starting to take things in her stride, he thought approvingly to himself.

  Only then, they were faced with three more miles of steep hills from the river. After that, the traveling became a little easier. However, there was still no wood to be found, except a few sticks here and there. Then they were challenged by the Deschutes River, which was just as turbulent as the John Day River. There was a sandbar at the river’s mouth where they were able to cross a little easier, though.

  After the river crossing, the road turned rough in places. They continued on clear to the Dalles mission. It was where the long narrows of the Columbia pushed its two-hundred-foot wide channel of water over and through solid basalt rock for a distance of about five miles. Trapper Dan told Marcel that the French trappers called it Les Dalles in their language.

  The mission was originally built in 1838 and had the name Wascopam, in the beginning. At one time, there were big-horned sheep that roamed the area and the Indians would use the horn of the sheep as a kind of cup
or bowl, which they called Wasco. The name Wascopam, Raven told her, meant the place of the Wasco.

  The Dalles was a Methodist mission where they attempted to teach the heathen Indians the Christian teachings. Marcel thought it a good idea, while Raven insisted it was just another way to try and erase their native culture.

  “The Christians believe their way of understanding God is the only way to understand it,” Raven Mumbled. “Only my people look at God or the Great Spirit differently than the white man does.”

  “Well, here we be,” Trapper Dan mumbled. “We’ll be a travelin’ down the river on barges from here on out, an get dumped out at Oregon City at the end. I believe that’s whar ya will hafta go ta get yer parcel number ta claim yer plot. The barges take money,” Trapper Dan informed her.

  “I think I have enough to cover it,” Marcel told him. “How much?”

  “Twenty dollars,” he said. “It used ta be ten but so many people needed a barge that the price kept goin’ up.”

  Marcel paid the price at the office where the barges were being rented, but she was told she would have to wait her turn. There were a lot of people ahead of them who came in other companies.

  Marcel looked around, hoping to see Josiah. When she saw Captain Camden, her heart lifted as she rushed to him to ask him about her brother.

  “Are Josiah and Mary here?” she asked.

  “Well, I’ll be! It looks like you made it all the way,” he said. “Did you have to leave anything behind?”

  “No. I’ll have you know I brought everything that was in my wagon from the beginning. If I don’t lose it all going down the river, I will be happy.”

  “It would be a shame to lose it all now,” Captain Camden said.

  “Is my brother around here close by?” she asked, still looking around at the groups that were either making their own rafts or waiting for barges to rent.

  Captain Camden shook his head. “I’m afraid not. He decided to try the trail to California. We almost didn’t make it ourselves when the Walla Walla and Cayuse Indians threatened to attack us. We were lucky that someone from the fort brought some friendly Indians with them to hold the warriors off until we could pass through.”

  “We ran into the same Indians,” Marcel told him, “but my friend, Raven managed to talk the Chiefs into letting us go through.”

  “Well, then you’re a lucky woman. I see you still have your friends with you,” he said, looking over her shoulder at Trapper Dan and Raven, in the distance.

  “Only once they help me build a shelter, they are heading back to Wyoming. I was hoping my brother would be here to greet me, once I arrived.”

  “That Mr. Greenwood had a silver tongue and talked a lot of our group into going with his son on to California instead.”

  Marcel shrugged, trying to hold back her tears of disappointment. “I guess I will just have to find a way to make it on my own, then,” she murmured and turned back to her wagon.

  “By the look on yer face, I would say ya don’t have any good news ta share,” Trapper Dan said when she approached them.

  “Josiah went to California. I may never see him again.”

  “Sorry ta hear thet,” Trapper Dan said, patting her shoulder.

  “I had a feeling he might do that. I am not surprised.”

  “Well, ya got us ta help ye get thet shelter up,” Trapper Dan reminded her.

  “And I thank you for it,” Marcel said honestly, giving him a hug.

  “We’ll probably hafta camp hare the night afore our turn comes ta go downriver.” Trapper Dan shrugged.

  “I’ll cook something for supper,” Marcel offered, needing something to busy herself with so she wouldn’t think about the future.

  Several other people were camping along the river, waiting their turn to travel down on a barge or for their rafts to be built. Several of them remembered Marcel and her huge wagon. When everyone had finished eating, they asked her to play her piano for them. As the music filled the air, other people with instruments gathered and began to play. People started dancing, and as Marcel watched them dancing together, she wished she and Raven could dance with each other, but she didn’t even know if Raven knew how to dance. Instead, she focused on her music. There was no use hoping for something that could never be. She knew a true future with Raven could never come to pass, and the sooner she accepted the fact, the better off she would be.

  Raven sat at a distance, watching the dancers and listening to the music. He would miss Marcel’s music, he thought, as much as he would miss her. She had been acting strangely, now that they were getting to the end of their journey, and he knew it was because she wanted him to stay with her since her brother was nowhere around to help her.

  However, she refused to become his wife so, therefore, it was not his responsibility to care for her, he reasoned. Her brother should have remained to watch over her. As it was, both he and Trapper Dan had gone out of their way to bring her here. Now it was time to get back to his regular life and put all of this behind him. Still, the thought did not stop the aching in his heart at the prospects of leaving Marcel.

  That evening, Raven held Marcel tightly in his arms. It should take about a month to make the shelter, and then, he would have to spend his nights alone, with no one to hold. Even if he found himself a wife, once he returned to his village, it would not be like holding Marcel. He didn’t think anyone could ever take the place of the woman with the magic fingers, playing her sagebrush serenade.

  By noon the next day, the wagon was securely strapped to the barge and the group was heading downriver in the direction of Oregon City. It was no worse than crossing the river on a raft, Marcel thought, only the trip downriver took a lot longer.

  Once they arrived, and the wagon was once more on solid ground, Marcel found the county surveyor’s office and put in a bid for her claim of 160 acres of land as promised to those coming to settle Oregon.

  She picked a plot close to a stream so she would have water. There was also a wooded area where she could cut trees down to build a house and have firewood. When she came out of the office, she presented the plot map to Trapper Dan, so he could find her piece of property and decide the best place to build her shelter.

  Other travelers were going to their plots as well. A hundred and sixty acres would separate them all from each other. Her closest neighbor would be more than a mile away.

  Once they found the plot, Marcel sent Trapper Dan back to Oregon City with eight of the mules to sell. She would need money to buy enough supplies to last the winter. Two of the largest mules, who were the wheeler mules, Big Black and Big Blue, would be kept to plow the fields and pull a smaller wagon, once Marcel sold her big wagon. Only, for now, she would have to keep the big wagon to store her belongings in until a larger house was built.

  Trapper Dan returned with a smaller wagon, pulled by his horse. It was full of the supplies she needed and Trapper Dan told her there was enough money left over from getting supplies to get the wagon to cart all her supplies back to her property. He also got building materials and tools to build her shelter with.

  The first thing he built was a corral and lean-to for the mules. They also put Raven and Trapper Dan’s horses in it with the two mules and then got busy working on the shelter for Marcel.

  The three camped out, as they had over the long journey there, while Trapper Dan and Raven built the shelter. Trapper Dan and Raven cut down trees, while Marcel went to the stream and gathered rocks, putting them in the small wagon, hitched to one of the mules, to bring them up to the sight for building the fireplace with. Trapper Dan had purchased mortar for the rocks when he got the tools and food supply.

  Marcel wore her brother’s trousers so she could help build on the shelter, which was a one-room building with a loft. There was the fireplace to warm the house and the stack to her cook stove was connected to the chimney. There was room for her double bed, a table with two chairs, a rocking chair, and her piano, in the space allotted. It would be cozy and
warm for the winter and Marcel could not complain.

  At night, they were all so tired, all they could think of was sleep. There was no time or energy for Marcel and Raven to make love, even though he held her in his arms at night, in her little cot inside the wagon.

  While collecting rocks, Marcel found dewberries growing down by the stream, and gathered them to make a pie with, once the cook stove could be set up. When the shelter was finally built, Marcel made her first meal in the little house and they all ate around the table. Afterwards, Raven asked her to play the piano.

  He and Trapper Dan listened, thinking of the first time they had heard her playing and all the other times her music filled their ears. Now the music sounded haunting, Raven thought.

  The next morning, Trapper Dan and Raven got busy building a lean-to against the back to store the wood, which they chopped for Marcel to last her the winter.

  Finally, they could not prolong their stay any longer. Everything was ready for Marcel to remain the winter and it was time that Trapper Dan and Raven made their departure.

  “You will be coming back in the spring, won’t you?” Marcel asked Trapper Dan to make sure she would see him again.

  “We hope to,” Trapper Dan said. “I’ll hafta take ma furs in first, then we could make it out hare by the end of May. Ya draw up some plans over the winter, fer the way ya want yer new house ta be, an we’ll see what we ken do once we get hare.”

  “You have done so much for me already. Are you sure you can take the time…”

  “Doncha worry yer head about it. I will be lookin’ forward ta seeing ya again. Raven’ll probably be missin’ ya too.” He jerked his thumb towards Raven who was saddling up his horse.

  “I will miss you both, so much,” Marcel whimpered.

  “Now doncha start cryin’ none,” Trapper Dan said, kissing her cheek and then giving her a hearty hug.

  “I’m so worried,” she whispered. “Please don’t tell Raven, but I think I might be carrying his child. I will be all alone and…”