Woman of Courage (25 page)

Soon, they came to a stand of green trees near a small stream. “Good dog!” Mary cried, relieved that at last they had finally come to water.

She and Amanda dismounted, and as Amanda led the animals to the stream, Mary removed Little Joe from his cradleboard and sponged him off with the cool water, allowing him to suck on a dampened piece of the clean cloth. Then she drank deeply of the cool, clear liquid, until her thirst was satisfied and she felt refreshed.

After Mary and Amanda hobbled the horses, they put up a lean-to and placed the baby underneath. Instructing Thunder to watch over Little Joe, Mary gathered an armload of firewood and started a campfire. For the first time all day she actually felt hungry. She even thought about taking Jim’s gun and hunting for fresh game but felt uneasy about leaving Amanda and the baby alone, even with the reliable dog there to watch over them. She would have to make do with the dried rabbit left in her pack.

Mary placed a pot of water over the hot coals to boil, then tossed in several pieces of dried meat. She could still see Jim’s ashen face as he lay dying on the mat under their tent. A tear slid down her cheek. She missed the rugged mountain man more than she’d ever thought possible.

If she’d been living among her people, Jim’s face would have been painted red, his body washed, clothed in a new garment, and finally wrapped in a robe.

They needed Jim’s horse for the Rendezvous journey, but if it had been a Nez Percé burial, his horse would have been killed and left close to the gravesite. The deceased’s personal valuables were also placed in the grave, which was why Mary had put Jim’s favorite pipe in his hand.

Had Mary been living among her people, she’d now be entering a yearlong mourning period. She’d cut her hair very short and wear old clothes until the year passed. Mary had decided not to cut her hair short, because they were heading to the Rendezvous. Remembering the type of men that showed up there, Mary didn’t want to lead anyone to believe that she was without a husband.

She lifted her gaze toward the sky.
Hanyawat, why did you take Jim away from us now, when Little Joe and I need him so much?
Despite her pain, she had to be strong and courageous. Little Joe needed her, and so did Amanda. She would do whatever it took to survive and to provide for their needs.

Amanda couldn’t believe they had made it this far. Especially with what seemed like hours without water. Thank goodness Thunder was a smart dog and had led them to this lifesaving stream. Already she missed the cool air high in the Rockies. Sweat made her clothing stick to her all day. Oh, what she wouldn’t give for a cool, refreshing bath. There was no way she was going to do that, however. She’d have to be content as she lay there looking up at the stars. The night air was cooling off some, so for that she was thankful.

Amanda couldn’t help wondering about Buck.
If only he had agreed to travel with us, maybe Jim wouldn’t have gotten bit by that rattlesnake
. Amanda figured Buck would have most likely been with Jim when it happened, and he might even have killed the snake before it struck. Hearing from Mary about Buck’s skills, Amanda knew something like that would never have gotten by him unnoticed.

Was Buck back at his cabin thinking about her? If he was, they probably weren’t good thoughts. She’d been a nuisance to him, and obviously he felt the more distance he could put between them, the better it would be for him.

Amanda fell asleep, wishing once more that there had been some way to guide Buck’s path to the Lord. Somehow she’d failed. All she could do for Buck now was pray—pray that he would open his heart to the truth.

A
s Mary and Amanda continued their travels over the next few days, a sense of foreboding and uneasiness come over Mary. She chided herself for fretting, yet the unsettling feelings remained. She neither saw nor heard anything unusual, but her concerns intensified with each step they took. Were they riding into some kind of danger? Could it be that some hostile Indians were nearby or maybe a wild animal, hidden by brush and waiting to attack? Was Hanyawat or her guardian spirit trying to warn her?

Mary thought about Buck and wished that he was with them. He would have offered them protection; she was sure of that.

They rode on, but when Mary didn’t see or hear anything out of the ordinary, she decided that perhaps her irrational fears were just from missing Jim so much. She took a deep breath, in an attempt to clear her head.
I am a Nez Percé, and I will get through this. I have been through far worse, and we will make it
.

Dusk was settling over the land, and deep purple shadows engulfed the dense forest. A cool evening breeze blew softly against Mary’s face, and she relaxed in her saddle for the first time all day. Perhaps there was no danger after all.

As they mounted the crest of a hill, they saw the site of the Rendezvous along the Green River basin in the valley below them. Mary sat taller in her saddle, feeling proud that they’d actually made it. She looked over at Amanda, who also sat higher in her saddle.
Her father must be proud if he is watching from above
, Mary thought.

With the Rockies behind them and the valley below them, they could see for miles—as far as their sight could reach. Their horses snorted, with nostrils flaring, no doubt getting wind of the fresh grasses below from the recent rains.

Smoke curled up from different areas of the site, and the smell of food reached Mary’s senses, making her mouth water. She heard Amanda smack her lips and knew that she, too, must be hungry. Their horses grew restless, pawing at the dirt, no doubt anxious to feed on the valley grasses.

After a short rest, Mary and Amanda urged their mounts forward. As they drew closer to the compound, Mary thought it was strange that there were no clusters of tepees camped in the open area. Though she had only been to a few Rendezvous, she remembered that the white trappers who went there always camped in canvas tents or tepees, as did the Indians. Maybe she was mistaken. Perhaps this was not the Rendezvous site after all. They could have been heading in the wrong direction all this time, and this could be some other compound. Surely if this was the place of Rendezvous, there would be white men and Indians roaming everywhere.

Mary knew the only way to know for sure was to ride in, but a sudden wave of fear washed over her. She longed to have Jim by her side, but no amount of wishing would change the sobering fact that her husband was dead.

Little Joe started to cry, and Amanda looked at Mary expectantly. “Is everything all right?”

“I-I am not sure.” Mary tried to reassure her baby with soft, comforting words, but it was obvious that he sensed her fear.

There were a few men milling around, and they gave Mary and Amanda a curious stare. She wasn’t sure if it was because they seldom saw two women riding in alone, or if it was because of the squalling baby, strapped to her back. Nevertheless, neither of the women made eye contact. Just seeing some of those men and the way they’d looked at them, made Mary uneasy.

She halted her horse and asked one of the men for directions to the main post. He pointed to the largest of the log structures, and she nodded and stopped the horses at the hitching rail. She instructed Thunder to stay outside, then taking her crying son down from his cradleboard, she and Amanda entered the post.

Mary had to let her eyes adjust to the dimness as they entered the wooden building. The door closed behind them, making her and Amanda both jump. The only light streamed in from one window. As Mary’s eyes took in the interior, she saw that there were just a few men inside, and one of them was sitting in front of a huge stone fireplace with his feet propped up on an empty supply crate. Figuring he must be the man in charge, Mary gathered up her courage and stepped up to him. “This be the place for Rendezvous?”

With barely a glance in her direction, he mumbled, “Rendezvous was supposed to be here, but it was moved farther south to a clearing called Horse Creek. It’s along the Green River, too, and you know what?” Without waiting for her reply, he said, “You’re the second person in here today askin’ about it.”

“How far it be?” Mary asked.

The man spit his chewing tobacco into the fireplace, and flames sizzled as it made contact. “Reckon it’s about half a day’s ride from here. Too bad ya didn’t get here a might sooner. The trapper that was here earlier was headin’ there, too. You and your party coulda rode with him.”

Mary didn’t feel inclined to tell him that except for her, Amanda, and Little Joe, she had no party. It would be safer if none of the men knew they were traveling alone. So she merely nodded and said, “Thank you.” Then she and Amanda left the building and hurried toward their waiting horses.

That evening, as Amanda and Mary directed their horses to the wide green meadow covered with ample grass and surrounded by trees, Mary announced that this had to be Horse Creek clearing. Campsites with Indian and trapper’s tepees and canvas tents stretched as far as the eye could see. How many different Indian tribes were represented here, Amanda could not be certain, but there were a lot of them.

Wagonloads of supplies, mule trains packed with all kinds of dry goods, and canoes piled high with bundles of animal pelts filled the center of the clearing to overflowing. All around, white men dressed in buckskins, with long, shaggy hair and faces bronzed and weathered, milled about with Indians. Many could be seen drinking together or bartering. Some were engaged in fist-fighting brawls. Whiskey wagons were scattered around, and Amanda cringed when she noticed several men so drunk they staggered about. Some men were too liquored up to even stand, and those in this condition found beds on the ground wherever they chose. Other groups of men sat huddled together, playing cards or throwing dice for high stakes.

Amanda guided her horse around a drunken trapper who had stumbled out of a tent. She shuddered, wondering if she, Mary, and the baby would be safe here.

Mary stopped her horse in front of one of the Rocky Mountain Fur Company’s supply wagons, dismounted, and went to speak to the man in charge, while Amanda stood near the horses. “Me have otter and beaver pelts to trade,” she announced.

“If you’ve got enough, you can trade for whatever you like. Some prices are steep, but them beaver skins will bring ya a fair price, that’s fer sure,” the man replied.

Mary nodded. “Have many beaver pelts.”

The man squinted at her through halfclosed eyelids. “Where’s your man? Usually it’s the man who brings in the furs for trading.”

“He not here. Me do trading,” she answered.

“Your man ain’t with you, huh? Well, I’d be more’n happy to fill in for him,” another man spoke up.

As Mary whirled around, Amanda stiffened. She thought they had seen the last of Seth Burrows, but apparently she’d been wrong.

His thin lips pressed into a sly grin as he spotted Amanda. “Hello again, purty lady.”

Amanda’s heart pounded. She hoped he wouldn’t cause them any trouble.

“Well, why don’t ya say somethin’, or has the cat got your tongue?” Seth sneered at her. “Or maybe you’re just so surprised to see old Seth that you’re plumb dumb speechless.” He glanced back at Mary and grinned. “Bet you’re wonderin’ how I survived with my leg bleedin’ and me with no supplies.” Without waiting for her to reply, he hurried on. “Well, it weren’t easy at first, but lucky for me that I found my way into the campsite of a band of friendly Flathead Injuns. After tendin’ to my leg, they gave me food, clothes, and all the supplies I needed, including a horse. I holed up with ’em awhile, till I was able to be on my way again.”

Amanda noticed that Seth was dressed in a new leather shirt, decorated with quills and beaded embroidery. It was probably one he’d been given by the Flatheads. His thick, pitted face was coarse with the growth of a new beard, and his hair was matted and uncombed.

Mary said something in her native tongue and started to walk away from the vulgar man, but he reached out a grimy hand and caught her by the shoulder. “Now jest where do ya think you’re goin? I was talkin’ to you and the purty white lady, and ya don’t never turn your back on someone when they’re conversin’ with ya. Why, it just ain’t polite!”