by Sadie Conall
Four babies had been born since they left Independence, all of them delivered successfully in the back of wagons with the help of two midwives who were travelling with the company.
But as another young woman of eighteen struggled in labor, a little boy standing too close to his parent’s camp fire tipped over a pot of boiling water, badly scalding his arm. A doctor travelling with the wagon train was treating the horrific injury and perhaps because of this, along with people’s fatigue and the young woman’s struggle to deliver her babe, a black cloud seemed to descend over camp.
By the second day of the teenage girl’s labor, as the doctor and midwives agreed it would be a breech birth, it became clear to everyone who lived close enough to the girl’s wagon and heard her low cries of distress, that this was not going to end well. And as dawn broke on the third day, Artie asked the girl’s young husband to leave their wagon where it was, to give her privacy, as the rest of the company moved on.
Artie and Miller stayed with the young husband that night, not only to stand guard for the wagon sat all alone out there on the prairie, but to offer him support as the two midwives and doctor attended the young mother.
The baby didn’t survive the birth. Artie and Miller helped the grieving young father dig the little boy’s grave beside the trail and when the wagon caught up to the company the following day, the young mother kept to her bed. But within days word spread around camp that she had a fever.
“That girl just pushed too long and too hard,” Nell Weslock said to Martha and Ella around the camp fire that night. “Now she’s got rips and tears inside and out that ain’t healing. She’s got no hope of fighting infection like that.”
“Well, don’t know about that,” Martha said. “She’s young enough to fight it off. But I heard she’s still bleeding bad, likely got some afterbirth left inside. And that’s not going to help her, no matter which way you look at it.”
Less than a week later the young mother died. Artie said some prayers over the grave as the whole company gathered, then a small wooden cross made by one of the carpenters was hammered into the hard earth. The young woman’s name and age were scrawled on it in charcoal.
“Shame she couldn’t be buried with her bub,” one woman murmured beside Ella, although Ella wished she’d just kept quiet.
And the day Marrok rode in with the girl was also the day the company had their first wagon accident.
Ella had been walking with Ruby, Clara and Martha and her three grandchildren when they heard a man scream. Everyone turned as men shouted for wagons to stop, for less than half a mile back a wagon had pitched over onto its side, the four oxen bellowing with distress as they were pulled down, the harnesses around their necks twisting dangerously.
Abe and Wilber ran back to see if they could help while Jasper climbed down off the buckboard to join Ella.
“What on earth’s happened?” Martha asked, pulling her bonnet down low over her eyes to shade them against the glare of the summer day.
“Looks like his front wheel’s gone into a pothole,” Jasper said. “Never saw it myself. But looks like the soil loosened from all the wagons gone on before. Now it’s done gone and broke his front axle.”
It could have happened to any one of the wagons before or after, but it had happened to a young couple already struggling. The young husband was homesick for his family on the east coast and had never taken to life on the trail. And to add to his misery, his wife and child had been sleeping in the back of the wagon as they tried to shake off a fever.
Ella never said it, but she wondered if he’d fallen asleep while holding the reins. For what other reason was there for him not to see the hole opening up in the road ahead.
“I hope there’s no broken bones,” Ruby said, as they heard the mother and child screaming inside the wagon. “They must have taken a bad fall when that wagon went over.”
“Oh, that poor family,” Constance said, a hand on her belly, as she joined them to see what had happened.
“Lord above, I’d rather cook and clean than have to deal with all that mess,” Martha said, as the oxen were unharnessed and dozens of men pushed the wagon upright before taking the wheel off the broken axle.
The family had suffered nothing more than bruising and shock, but like Jasper had said, the front axle was broken so Artie made the decision to stop there for the night. So wagons were moved into circles and animals unharnessed and left to graze while men returned to work on the damaged wagon.
But as late afternoon turned to dusk, as coffee beans were roasted and children settled for the night, Marrok rode in with the girl. He hadn’t even reined his horse in before a crowd had gathered.
*
The child was sitting in his saddle although she looked tiny next to Marrok, who sat behind her on the rump of his horse. He held her close, one arm wrapped around her so she didn’t fall off and he’d managed to wash away most of the grime, but her arms and legs looked thin and fragile as they poked out from beneath the buckskin shift and dirty moccasins.
Artie hurried towards them, pushing his way through the crowd and only then did Ella see fear cross the child’s face. She leaned back instinctively into Marrok, seeking his protection and Ella watched as he put his other hand gently on the girl’s shoulder to quiet her.
“Dear Lord, where on earth did he find her?” Martha murmured in astonishment.
“She looks half starved,” Clara added.
“And no older than Archer,” Constance said.
Marrok dismounted and as he reached up to lift the child down from his saddle, Ella heard her whimper, even as her little arms reached out to grab Marrok around his neck. He spoke to her rapidly in a guttural language as Artie strode towards them and Ella watched along with everyone else as Marrok and Artie spoke together in low measured tones, until the two deputies approached. Artie turned to look at the two men and Ella was shocked by the anger on his face. Again he spoke urgently to Marrok and then Miller spoke, his voice raised, allowing everyone who stood nearby to hear his words.
“Arapaho? But you know as well as Artie how they feel about us moving across their lands! Goddamit, you’ll bring the whole damn nation down on our heads, Marrok. What the hell were you thinking? Damn it, this will start a war, for you know they’ll come looking for her and how do we explain this!”
“I couldn’t leave her behind!” Marrok said, his voice raised in anger, allowing everyone who stood nearby to hear him. “She wouldn’t have lasted another hour, not with that pack of wolves on my tail. She’s damned lucky I saw her at all for another quarter mile in either direction and I would have missed her.”
Clara moved towards Ella. “Poor little thing, she looks half starved. We got a little rice and beans left over from our meal if she wants some of it.”
“Go on mother,” Constance said, gently pushing Martha forward. “Bring her over here. She doesn’t look like she’s eaten in days.”
“I’ll come with you,” Ella said.
They walked across to where the men now talked in lower tones, their anger gone, aware of the crowd around them. Marrok still held the child in his arms, her face turned into his buckskin shirt so she couldn’t see the people staring at her. The men glanced up as Martha and Ella stepped forward.
“This isn’t a good time, Mrs Wilbyrne.” Artie said, a hardness to his words.
Martha nodded. “I can see that, I got eyes Mr Dalbert. What we came for is the girl. If you want, we’ll take care of her until you work out what you’re doing. Ella’s got some supper left over if the girl wants beans and rice.”
“Well, she can’t stay with Marrok! Or me for that matter!” Artie let out a loud sigh. “Yes, please, that would be very kind of you.” He turned to the crowd, suddenly aware of the murmurs rising, some of which turned his blood to ice with the ugliness of them. “Come on folks, move on, there’s nothing more to see here.”
He stood and watched as people drifted away then turned as Marrok put the child down and o
nce again spoke to her in that guttural language, before pointing to Martha and Ella. And although the girl nodded, she continued to lean into him.
“Come on child, let’s get you fed and settled for the night,” Martha said, holding out her hand. “And give you a good hot wash. Because you sure ain’t cuddling up to me in them dirty clothes.”
Again those guttural words and then finally the child reached out to take Martha’s hand. Ella left with them, although as she looked back at Marrok, as he turned to speak to Artie and the two deputies, she thought he looked beyond exhausted.
*
“So where’d you find her?” Artie asked, his hands on his hips.
“Up in the woods, about seventy miles to the north west. She said her family were hunting deer when they were attacked by Kiowa. When her mother sent her deeper into the woods to hide, she got lost. She doesn’t know if any of them survived. But we better go carefully Artie if the Kiowa are on the warpath. It won’t take much to have others join them. You know how tribes are feeling these days. It isn’t about trading with us anymore, because so many of them are going hungry and they got nothing to trade anyway,” Marrok paused and ran his hands through his hair in frustration before looking back at his friend and the two deputies.
“And I understand your anger,” he said to Miller. “But I couldn’t leave her there. With that pack of wolves on my tail, one sniff of her and she’d have been torn to pieces right behind me. Although I reckon she’s been alone for days.”
“If they’re still alive after that battle with the Kiowa, you know her family will come looking for her Marrok,” Artie said, his anger gone. “You know that better than anyone, that most tribes go back for those left behind. Doesn’t matter who it is, man, woman or child, they’ll go looking for them.”
Marrok nodded. “Well, we’ll find out soon enough for we’ll be passing by those woods within the week.”
“And what happens if they’re all dead? What do you plan to do with her then?” Joe asked.
Marrok glanced at Artie, feeling his friend’s grey eyes on him. “She’ll got north with me to Oregon.”
“Yes, I guess she will,” Artie said, turning to look north. “The Chinook will take her. They’ll raise her as their own.”
*
Ella discovered later that night that the child’s name was Nigamo-nii’eihii. She asked Marrok if he knew the girl’s name when he came across to her camp to see how the child was doing.
“The closest meaning I can give you in English is bird that sings,” Marrok said, watching as Clara rocked the child to sleep in her arms by the fire.
The little girl was wrapped in a blanket and wore a pair of Ella’s thick winter socks, for Martha had insisted of washing the girls clothes and moccasins.
“She seems to have taken to you Clara,” Marrok said, watching as the little girl slept.
“Well, I sure know how it feels to be left all alone, so this baby must have been right scared, poor child. Although I ain’t never met any Indians ‘afore this one but I think she’s just fine, like any other baby lost without her mama. So doan’t you worry none about her, Mr Marrok. She’s safe here with us. Ain’t no-one goin’ to hurt this baby while I’m watchin’ out for her.”
Marrok looked at Ella, as she offered him a coffee. But he shook his head.
“I’d better go and see my men before they go to bed. I’ve hardly had a chance to talk to them since I’ve been back.”
He strode back to camp, leaving Clara and Ella to look after Nigamo-nii’eihii. Yet he shook his head in wonder, as he remembered Ella standing in her wedding dress back at the ranch, looking vulnerable yet defeated. And Clara, that worn, stressed woman who had watched him in the saloon in St Louis. Now here they both were living together, taking care of a lost Indian child. Fate, he thought. It was a strange thing.
*
Artie made the decision the following morning to leave the damaged wagon behind. The nearest woods were seventy miles to the north where Marrok had found the Arapaho girl and Artie wasn’t sending men all that way to cut down a tree and bring it back to make an axle. That would hold the wagon train up for two weeks or more. And by then other trains would be on their tail.
Friends of the young couple offered to carry most of their possessions and supplies while the damaged wagon was taken apart for parts and sold to whoever bid the highest price for them.
The wagon’s canvas cover would be used as shelter for the young family, all the way to California. Four of their six oxen were sold off, and what remained of the couple’s possessions were secured to the back of the two oxen they kept. Then they set off on foot, their child safe in the back of a friend’s wagon.
But as the week rolled by and the wagon train headed closer to the woods where Marrok had found Nigamo-nii’eihii, allegations against Marrok for bringing the child into camp grew louder and more vicious. And it seemed those angry words spoken by Miller had stirred up trouble.
To help settle folks down, Artie called a halt earlier than usual one afternoon and after supper, called on the fiddlers to play something lively. Abe and Wilber went off to dance, while Ruby got up to sing a few songs.
But Clara and Ella stayed by their camp fire with Jasper and Nigamo-nii’eihii. It was well after dark when Marrok appeared and asked if he could join them, accepting a cup of coffee and a hot biscuit not long out of the Dutch oven.
“Why aren’t you dancing?” he asked Ella, surprised to see her there and not with Ruby.
“She’s here because she doan’t like what some folks are saying about you, that’s the truth of it,” said Clara.
Marrok looked at Clara in astonishment, taken aback by her honesty but Ella just shrugged.
“In all truth Marrok, I think people are being unreasonable,” she said. “I would have done the same thing had I been you.”
Jasper leaned towards him. “Go on now, you go dance with Miss Ella and show them folks that you did the right thing bringin’ this child back here. You got nothin’ to be ashamed of.”
Marrok thought on it a moment then shook his head, turning to Ella. “I know you’d be up for the challenge, but I wouldn’t put you through something like that. Taking sides with me will earn you some powerful enemies.”
Ella laughed, suddenly seeing a way she could finally repay Marrok. “Well, what do I care about enemies! Don’t you remember how I dealt with Jebediah Crawley and my uncle? You were right there beside me Marrok, encouraging me every step of the way, having my back. So!” she laughed again and stood up. “Let’s go dance!”
Marrok looked at her in bewilderment for a moment then smiled and stood up. They made their way in silence past the wagons to where the dancing was taking place, aware of people watching them. Most folk smiled and nodded to them, others looked at them with curiosity to see Ella with the wagon train’s scout, but a large group of people looked at Marrok with dislike.
But when Marrok pulled Ella into his arms, she forgot about everything but him. He was a good dancer. His large body moved easily with the rhythm and when the music came to an end, he stepped back, as Ella brushed hair off her face, feeling flushed as she met his gaze and again, as before, she felt drawn to him, as if something bound her to him. And then the music began again, a slower tune.
Marrok said not a word but simply held out his arms and stepped towards her. Ella didn’t hesitate, but went to him. They didn’t speak as they danced, but as he turned her around so that Ella walked under his raised arm, Ruby passed them on the arm of another man. And all Ella thought of then was what Ruby had said all those weeks ago. He singles you out over everyone else. Well in this case he hadn’t, for it had been Jasper who’d urged them to dance.
When the music came to an end, Marrok took a step back and thanked her, then he laughed, speaking softly as he leaned towards her. “I think we might have done it. No-one’s taking any notice of me.”
They turned to leave the dancers but as they stepped out of the light of the lamps se
t on the side of the wagons, Ella saw Ruby get swept up to dance by another man.
“Look at her,” she said with longing. “She does everything with an ease and grace. She’s beautiful, has an easy laugh, dances like a dream, sings like an angel and has every woman wanting to be like her and every man wanting to be with her.”
“Well, perhaps not every man,” Marrok said, softly.
Ella turned to find him looking at her and as she held his gaze she felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to step forward and kiss him, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Except Marrok turned away from her, to look back at the people dancing, to watch Ruby. Ella felt crushed by that, and by his turning away from her.
But then he spoke, his voice so low that Ella moved closer to hear him.
“I know very little about Ruby’s past,” he said, watching Ruby laugh as another man took her as his partner. “But from what she’s told us, it seems she’s quite alone in the world. And compared to most women here, her life seems almost carefree. She has no money worries, she doesn’t have to do chores if she doesn’t want to and she has no-one to answer to.”
Marrok paused and at last he turned back to Ella. But this time she saw something else in his eyes, something she didn’t understand. She might have said it was a softness, or gentleness, for whatever it was took away that hardness he owned. Martha might have called it a look of respect. Others may have called it a look of love. But whatever it was, it took Ella’s breath away.
“But did you ever think that the reason she glows with happiness is that for the first time in a very long time, she feels safe? Which is all because of you, Ella. As for her looks and her dancing and everything else, other than her singing, I believe you her equal. There is nothing you could wish for Ella, that could possibly improve on who you are.”
Ella said nothing, stunned by his words. Then Marrok glanced back towards their wagons way over in the other circle.