by Sadie Conall
The he walked away, leaving her alone. Ella would have loved to go after him, but she didn’t. Instead, aware of the glances her way, she moved to finish rinsing out the coffee pot, damped down the fire and went to bed. But she fell asleep holding the dreamcatcher.
5
They reached the woods early the following afternoon and Artie called a halt for the day. Below them through the trees was a wide shallow river, the same river that wound down to the woods where Marrok had bathed the day before. Artie ordered that the animals be watered first, before they were let out to graze within the wagon circles.
It was almost dusk, as families finished supper and were getting children ready for bed, when one of the men on guard duty began shouting, pointing north.
Everyone turned, with men reaching for their shotguns but as everyone stood up to see what the commotion was about, they all heard a high pitched cry coming from the trees.
Artie ordered everyone back behind the wagons, as that shrill cry echoed out again. Ella and her team moved quickly, crouching behind her wagon when the little Arapaho girl suddenly struggled to be free of Clara. And before anyone could stop her, she ran beneath the wagon and sprinted across the field towards the trees. Ella stood up to go after her, shouting at her to come back, when Jasper grasped her arm.
“Look Miss Ella, just hold up!” he cried, pointing to a large group of riders coming out of the woods more than a mile away.
And as Ella watched in despair as the little girl ran away, a man within the group of riders kicked his horse into a gallop, racing towards the child. And as Artie yelled at everyone to hold their fire, as he mounted his horse and rode out alongside Miller and Joe, a woman somewhere screamed in terror, for the rider galloping towards the girl wore slashes of black paint spread across his cheeks and forehead.
“Sweet Lord Almighty,” Clara muttered, clutching Ella’s arm.
As Artie and his officers rode out, they deliberately created a barrier between the wagon train and the child and rider racing towards her, for Artie had understood what others had not. And he needed to stop some nervous youth or man from taking a shot at the rider.
And then that bone chilling cry again as the rider reached the girl. Ella watched as he dismounted, almost throwing himself off the horse before moving to sweep the child into his arms.
“Well, look at that why don’t you! It’s the girl’s father!” Abe said, standing up. “And Marrok! Look!”
Ella looked back at the riders and saw Marrok riding alongside an older man at the head of the group. They reached the first rider and the girl at the same time Artie and his two officers got there.
“They sure doan’t look like they want to go war with us,” Jasper said.
Ella couldn’t help but smile. Marrok had done it. He’d found the child’s family.
The men and women in the group all wore black paint on their faces. There were about fifty of them, including children. The women and children rode double, with packhorses pulling travois behind them and Ella could see the great bundles of buckskin tied down on the back of them. They had been hunting deer.
The men were dressed in similar clothes to Marrok, although compared to Marrok’s plain buckskin, their garments were beautifully decorated with leather fringe, beadwork and hand painted designs.
The women wore long shift dresses with ankle boots, all decorated with porcupine quills and dyed seed beads. Bead necklaces and bracelets adorned the women’s necks and wrists.
And then a young woman riding bareback came from behind the group. Ella heard her soft cry and watched her dismount before stumbling towards Nigamo-nii’eihii and the man holding her.
There was a lot of talking then, for a long time. Ella could hear the muted sounds of that guttural dialect she had heard Marrok speak so many times to Nigamo-nii’eihii, then Artie was pointing back towards the wagon train, while Marrok pointed to an area just north of it.
And then the group were on the move. Nigamo-nii’eihii was settled before her father on his horse, while her mother rode alongside them, then they all headed just north of the wagon train to make camp for the night.
Ella was surprised when Artie and his officers rode back to join the company, leaving Marrok with the Arapaho. And like everyone else, she watched as he helped raise half a dozen teepees, hobbled their horses and carried their belongings into the teepees. And later, as smoke drifted from the top of those massive hide shelters, Ella envied them their teepees. Just to be dry and warm and out of all weathers, close to a fire where you could cook hot meals even when it poured with rain seemed an out-of-reach luxury to her. Marrok stayed with the family that night, with Artie riding up to join them later. And as Ella and everyone else settled for bed, they all heard the muted sound of laughter and the dull beat of a drum.
September 1846
1
Four months after leaving Independence, they came upon their first trading post. It was no more than a large cabin, stocked with supplies of flour, salted bacon, corn and coffee. Behind the building a group of men from the Gros Ventre tribe had set up camp the previous night, for they had brought maize and tobacco with them to trade. In return they took blankets, knives and axes. Within hours of the wagon train pulling in, the men completed their trade and rode out.
Artie allowed a stop of two days at this post, giving everyone time to buy supplies and replenish their water barrels from the deep well nearby. Then they moved on, even though it had begun to rain, but it was nothing more than a soft drizzle, not enough to stop the wagons, but enough to cause tempers to flare.
The rain slowed them down enough to allow a convoy of four muleskinners to catch up to them. They had come from Independence, their wagons full of supplies for Fort Hall and that night they camped a half mile east from the wagon train. Artie and Marrok rode over to join them for a coffee.
“We saw you roll out of Independence all those months ago,” one of them said. “We followed not a week after you, but we got hit hard by rain a few weeks back. Stopped us for a good while, but we’ve been moving hard ever since to make up time.”
Artie asked if they’d seen the group of forty wagons behind them, all those people who had decided to go out on their own. The muleskinners shook his heads.
“You folks be the first we seen since we left Independence,” one of the men said, spitting tobacco juice.
The news left Artie feeling uneasy, wondering what might have happened to those settlers. For even with the rain, it would have been impossible to miss the old rutted wagon tracks ahead of them. They should have been a few days behind, at the most.
“If they was following you, they ain’t no more,” another of the muleskinners said. “I guess they could’ve taken it into their minds to settle somewhere, but if they went out into the wild, well,” he shook his head in dismay. “I reckon they’d be lost by now. Even taken by Indians. There’s a lot of tribes goin’ hungry with the loss of the buffalo and if that be the case, you won’t hear nothin’ from them folks again. Forty wagons you say? Well, forty wagons is easy pickings for a tribe of hungry men.”
He offered a bottle of whisky to Artie and Marrok to take a swig of, but they declined the offer, even as the man held the bottle to his mouth. Another of the muleskinners rolled tobacco in his stained fingers, but before he put the wad in his mouth to chew, he nodded back the way they’d come.
“Just so’s you know, there’s another big group of settlers comin’ directly behind you, with a big team of muleskinners behind them. About four to six weeks away, I reckon. Settlers told us they left St Joseph end of May. About eighty wagons all up, but they’re bringin’ a lot of animals with them, a lot of cattle, so you better hope you reach Fort Hall before those folks catch you. One fellow alone is runnin’ more than five hundred head of cows. They’ll eat more grass than can fed the settlers’ animals comin’ after them,” he shook his head and popped the wad of tobacco in his mouth. “Big trouble ahead I reckon. And not just with the Indians. Take them fort
y wagons that pulled away from you. Just say they ain’t dead and they found a place to settle and put down roots, them kind a people will stop folk coming through this country. And they got the guns the Indians don’t have. Yessir, trouble brewing ahead I reckon. Politicians so busy selling this country out from under us they ain’t made no rules and I hope I ain’t alive to see it but mark my words, there’ll be wars fought over this land afore long.”
There was silence for a long moment then Marrok leaned towards him. “The muleskinners coming up behind us. How many?”
An older man answered, his teeth almost gone from a bad diet and too much tobacco chewing. “’Bout eight of them. Should catch up to you within the month.”
Artie glanced at Marrok. Neither of them liked the idea of either the muleskinners or that big wagon train rolling over them, especially not all those cattle. But within six weeks they should be at Fort Hall, sooner if they pushed their animals hard and if the weather held.
“You see any of them smaller wagon trains leaving Independence?” Artie asked.
The muleskinner chewing on the wad of tobacco put a hand out and touched the earth, feeling the grass beneath him. “What I seen is hundreds of thousands of buffalo grazing on these lands. Not once, but many times. And I’ll tell you, it’s a sight to behold. But I don’t see those numbers no more.” He shook his head and looked over at Artie. “Those smaller companies were getting’ ready to leave after us. Although I reckon they should stick together, not travel by themselves. I saw one man tellin’ folk he knew of a shortcut through the Rockies. I told him he was a madman. Takin’ settlers with oxen and mules and heavy wagons through those narrow mountain passes is askin’ for trouble. Can snow up there real heavy early as September. Snow twice as deep as a man’s cabin. ain’t no way to dig yourself out of that kind a snow.”
Marrok looked at him in dismay. He remembered that man. And he remembered having the same conversation with him. He hoped that no-one listened to him.
“I seen settlers shooting buffalo,” the older man spoke up. “And not for their meat or nothin’ else, just to get rid of them. To stop them eatin’ the grass,” he glanced over at the man chewing tobacco. “And I agree with my son here. This territory is changing. The way of life on these here Plains is being lost and ain’t no-one doing a darn thing to stop it. I reckon we’ll come through this open country in a few years’ time and there’ll be railings up, with cattle and horses being bred, the buffalo long gone.”
“Can’t see it myself,” the man drinking whisky added. “Can’t see the Indians letting all this land get into the hands of settlers. They been roamin’ and huntin’ on these open lands for as long as my great-grandpappy can remember.” He shook his head. “I ain’t seein’ no wars ahead. Folks will work it out. Can’t let the buffalo stop roamin’ this territory.”
They talked for a little while longer, then Artie and Marrok returned to the wagon train. Yet both men were subdued, both thinking the same, but neither saying it aloud until Artie did.
“You and I, we’re partly responsible for this,” he said, looking out at the country around them. “We’re helping to bring all these people through. And maybe we should have taken a stand before now and tried to stop it.”
Marrok shook his head. “Stop what, Artie? Progress? The wave of money crossing this country? For I’m darn sure if you or I or anyone else tried to stop it, we’d be dead men. Or we’d start a war.”
“But that war’s coming, you know it as well as I know it,” Artie said. “Just like most of those muleskinners know it. They’ve been moving across this country trapping furs all their lives, just like your daddy and granddaddy and they’ve all seen what we’ve seen. People hungry for land. Prepared to do anything to get it. And it might not be this year or the year after that, but war is coming.”
Marrok said nothing because there was nothing more to say. He just nodded and joined Artie for another coffee, for neither man felt like sleeping.
2
One month out of Fort Hall they veered off course for some four miles to camp on the edge of a river where they stayed for several days. But not to rest, but to cope with the dysentery that had swept through the wagon train two days before. Some folk still lay abed and with children coming down with it, tensions were high with women exhausted and running out of linen and clothes.
By the third day camping by the river, as the illness began to wear itself out, Artie made the decision to stay one more day, to give people time to recover before they made a final push to Fort Hall.
As he was discussing it with Marrok and his officers, eight wagons pulled by large teams of oxen suddenly appeared on a rise behind them. Artie and Marrok rode out to meet them, to find out their business, for this was not a place the wagon train usually stopped and the appearance of the muleskinners made Artie uneasy.
“We wondered if you folks were alright?” one of the men called out to them as Marrok and Artie reined in their horses close to the wagons, aware of the big shotguns the men carried. “Ain’t used to seeing wagon trains come this far west, ‘specially a big company like you got here, so we followed you to make sure you ain’t in no trouble.”
“We had a bout of illness,” Artie said. “Came here to get water and let folk rest. Reckon we’ll be on our way day after tomorrow.” He told them about the dysentery bug, giving the muleskinners fair warning to stay clear.
“Four muleskinners passed us two weeks ago, told us a big group was coming up from St Joseph. I guess that would be you?” Marrok asked.
The man in the front wagon nodded. “That’ll be us alright. And we passed another big wagon train just behind yours and there’s a few smaller ones coming up behind them. You sure got a lot of wagons here though, ain’t seen nothin’ like it.”
“You staying here long?” Artie called out.
The man in front shook his head. “Leaving first thing in the mornin’. We need to get to Fort Hall before you, for I reckon you folk be needing these supplies we got packed away behind us.”
He turned and glanced back at the wagons, where heavy canvas sheeting covered stacks of boxes and muslin sacks. Then he nodded towards two men sitting on an empty wagon at the back of the group.
“Those two ain’t coming west with us. They’ve had enough. Emptied their wagon at that supply post back yonder and they’re heading up to Lower Canada. Too many of us doing this run now, ain’t enough money in it for some of us, so they’re heading north to join the Hudson Bay Company. They heard a man can make a fortune up there, just like the old days of fur trapping. Seems Hudson Bay are running wagons across Lower Canada to Vancouver Bay. And those Russians hunting fur seals up in the Bering Sea pay big money for supplies, once they get their ships berthed in Vancouver Bay. Anyways, we’ll go set up camp now we know you folks are alright. But best kept clear of us. We don’t want your illness.”
Marrok and Artie returned to camp, but Artie was still uneasy.
“Not sure why,” he said. “Muleskinners don’t usually go out of their way to see if folk are alright. They’re usually in too much of a hurry. But I guess I should be grateful. Just ain’t used to it, I guess.”
*
Later that night Marrok accepted an invitation from Willard to join them for supper, along with Ella’s team, to celebrate getting over the dysentery. And later, while they were having coffee and talk turned to what they would do once they left the wagon train, a few people strolled over to join them, including Pierce Calderson and the Weslock family. Although Marrok was shocked by how much worse Elmer’s cough had got.
“Nothing contagious,” Elmer said, hitting his chest. “Doc just said its congestive heart failure. Although I admit some days I got to push myself. Which isn’t fair on Moss, I got to say that.”
“Well, we all know you for the stubborn jackass you are, which only makes things worse,” Nell said, although there was fondness in her voice as she scolded her husband. “I reckon you’re pushing yourself into an early grave, but y
ou won’t listen to no-one, most of all me.”
Elmer smiled. “Don’t fuss so, woman. You know I’ll be alright. I’m just getting older like everyone else. I just don’t have the same energy I had as a young man and I got to understand that,” he glanced over at Ruby. “And what about you? I hope you got plans to use that voice! It’ll be a sad day that’s for sure, when we can’t hear it no more.”
Everyone turned to Ruby. She blushed, clearly not used to compliments given before a large group of people. “Don’t worry Elmer, I’m heading for those big singing halls. That’s my dream.”
“Well good luck to you girl. I hope it’s everything you want it to be,” Elmer said.
Clarissa smiled and leaned against Ruby. “My dream is to become a ballerina. I want to dance on stage and wear one of those pretty dresses.”
“Oh, Clarissa,” Willard spluttered, scolding her. “Do get your head out of the clouds. I honestly don’t know where you get these ideas. You have to train for years to be a ballerina.”
Constance looked dismayed as Willard berated his eldest daughter in front of everyone. But Ruby just laughed and reached out to put an arm around Clarissa’s shoulders.
“I saw a ballerina once. She was on stage dancing and I swear she was the most beautiful thing I ever saw. She stood up on her toes and spun around, just like she weighed nothing at all.”
“Well I saw a toy ballerina once,” Clarissa said. “She was tiny, inside a jewellery box. When you opened the lid of the box she popped up to spin on a mirror. I can’t remember the tune she danced to, but I remember it was lovely. And if I had some money, I’d buy a jewellery box just like that one with the ballerina and I’d put all my jewellery inside of it.”
“You haven’t got any jewellery,” Willard said.
“Well, one day I will have. You just see if I don’t.” Clarissa answered back.