Chapter 9

Friday August 4, 1843

I know Dad used to tell us that the roosters crowed as dawn approached, but I had to wonder how they could tell it was approaching when they were cooped up inside the barn cave. Grudgingly, I again dragged myself out of a warm bed and dressed for another day.

By the time Emma brought lunch to us, Isum, Samuel, Arnaud, George, and I had almost loaded a third wagon with rocks. Wizzer and Mercury had been chasing each other all morning and were now lying in the shade beneath the wagon. Just as we finished lunch, Wizzer started to growl. Looking up quickly to the southwest, the same way Wizzer was looking, I saw two riders approaching, one in front of the other. I could see that the front one was Indian because he wasn’t using a saddle, so I warned Emma not to say anything and to let me deal with them.

“That’s my sister Belle,” she exclaimed angrily when they were close enough for her to tell. I’d seen that the brave had a white female tied to the saddle of the trailing horse.

“If that’s your sister, then it’s critical that you don’t say a word, no matter what,” I reiterated. “If you say the wrong thing or use the wrong tone, you may never see your sister again. I know the brave with her and he’s a friend,” I told her, adding the last bit hoping to calm her down.

“Greetings Broken Knife,” I called out when he was close enough. Our dogs had run out to greet them and accompanied them back to us, bouncing excitedly. They also knew Broken Knife since he rode through here every few days on his way out to hunt.

“Greetings Strong Hand,” he replied. “I found this white woman alone and drinking water from the river. After I captured her, she finally told me that she was looking for her sister, after she scratched me,” he chuckled, showing me his left arm. His arm looked like he had lost a fight with a bobcat.

“I have named her Little Badger,” he said, grinning.

“A good name for her,” I replied, trying to keep from laughing. I could see that she was mostly unharmed except for a fat lip and her bruised dignity. His demeanor told me that he intended to leave her with us. Emma couldn’t see that, though, and I had to hold onto her tightly.

“Little Badger says that her sister was sold at Fort John yesterday to an Indian woman and her white husband who bought cattle from the wagons passing through. It could only be your family, so I brought her here,” he explained.

“Thank you, Broken Knife. As you can see, my new wife is anxious to see her sister,” I said. “What can I offer you for her?” I asked.

“My rifle is old and is no longer accurate,” he said.

“Then let us go to the house and get you a new one. I’d like to buy her saddle if you plan to keep the horse,” I added, knowing that the odds of him parting with her horse were slim, and that he had no use for a saddle.

I left the nearly loaded wagon with the other men and had Emma climb up behind me on my horse rather than the horse she’d ridden out to us. I rode alongside Broken Knife as he continued to lead Belle on her horse. This close, I could see that Belle’s fat lip wasn’t serious, and she glared at me with undisguised hatred. I could only assume that she thought I should shoot Broken Knife and be done with it.

The girls were out working in the garden and nodded in acknowledgment when we approached. Nawaji came over and stood near me quietly in case she was needed for something. Half an hour later, I stood outside the door to the barn and waved goodbye to a satisfied Broken Knife. Nawaji had already treated the scratches on his arm. Tara, Nawaji, Emma, and Belle had remained inside, and I preferred it that way at the moment. Belle looked as if she was ready to unleash her inner Little Badger on me when we finished our trading session and I stood to escort Broken Knife back outside.

The guys arrived just then, and we unloaded the wagon full of rocks before heading back out for even more. I had some big plans for the barn this winter, and even a few before then. They all required rocks and mortar. Samuel and Arnaud had already built a small lime kiln and we had burned several small batches of lime in it. They used some of that lime, mixed with sand from the streambed to make enough mortar to build a much larger lime kiln.

They broke up and burned the chunks of stalactites and stalagmites that Mule had piled outside of the cave. Then we brought back two wagons filled with chunks of chalk that they burned. Mixed in with the chalk we found numerous nodules of flint that we traded to Nawaji’s tribe for tanned deer hides that Nawaji used to make each of us new buckskin clothing and moccasins. While she did, the other girls in our group worked with her to learn.

The next load of rocks seemed to load itself faster than previous loads and all too soon, we were back in the barn unloading. Sunset was still a ways off and I debated going back for another load. Instead, I called it a day. I stayed in the barn and laid out six smokehouses, laying a ring of rocks where each would go. Seeing the wasted space between the rings, I made the smokehouses square. That would save me from having to build a few walls, as two adjoining smokehouses would share one wall. For the back wall, I used the back wall of the cave, saving even more construction.

I felt pretty smug about that until I realized that Dad would probably have seen it before laying out the round smokehouses. I finally decided it was time to go inside and face Belle. Taking a deep breath, I braced myself mentally and opened the door.

Dinner smelled good and I saw all the girls working together in the kitchen. I also saw that the bathtub was nearly full. Emma was the first to turn around and had a smug grin on her face as she turned Belle around. Rather than a vitriolic verbal attack like I expected, Belle said nothing. She had her hands clutched together nervously in front of her and stared at the floor.

Walking over to them, I hugged Emma one handed and kissed her, a kiss that she returned eagerly and passionately. By then, my wives were behind Belle, grinning. “Are you okay?” I asked Belle as I used a finger under her chin to lift her face so I could see it. “That lip looks painful,” I added, although it didn’t look too bad.

“It’ll be fine,” she replied nervously.

“Is that all that happened?” I asked her, receiving a nod of confirmation. “I’m not upset with you. In fact, I was worried that you were still angry with the way I handled everything,” I said.

“I was,” she replied, returning her gaze to the floor. “Emma and your wives explained why you traded for me like that. They say that you know him and felt I was safe enough with him to make the deal. I see now how confronting him could have been dangerous,” she explained contritely.

“I’m going to take a bath now,” I announced after dinner. While Tara added more hot water to the water already in the tub, Emma moved to join me and gave her sister a questioning look. “If I join you, will you do the same thing to me that you did to Emma in the tub yesterday?” Belle asked nervously.

“It depends,” I replied. “Are you planning to stay with us, or return to the wagon train?” I asked.

“I want to stay with Emma,” she said nervously.

“If you stay here, your selection of potential husbands will be very limited,” I warned.

“I know. I talked to Emma earlier. I think I have a solution, though,” she said, blushing deep pink.

She continued when I remained silent. “When I asked them, your wives agreed that I could join you if you agreed. I agreed to return to the wagon train if you refused. Please say yes,” she begged with tears running down her face.

“Yes,” I agreed, not wanting to see her cry anymore.

“Now, I’m going to take a bath and I’d love it if you’d join me,” I told Belle.

“Will you do the same thing to me that you did to Emma in the tub yesterday?” Belle asked again, not sounding so nervous this time.

“I would love to make you feel good like I did your sister if it’s what you want. If you’re still nervous, though, I’m willing to wait a few days. I would like a kiss, though,” I said as I lifted her blushing face higher and lowered my face until our lips touched. I kissed her gently, both to see how she responded and because of her fat lip.

I was surprised when her tongue slipped into my mouth and the kiss quickly became heated. I realized that she was rubbing herself against my leg while we kissed. Slowly and gently, I picked her up the way I had carried Emma yesterday, waiting a second to give her a chance to protest. When she didn’t, I carried her over next to the tub. Emma followed us and began unbuttoning Belle’s dress.

“Wait,” I told her, “Belle hadn’t agreed to join us in the tub.”

“Well?” Emma asked her sister, tilting her head questioningly.

“Yes,” Belle squeaked, but her voice quivered.

“Are you frightened about something?” I asked Belle as I wrapped my arms around her protectively. Belle snuggled deeper into my embrace.

“Just nervous,” she replied in barely more than a whisper.

“All we’re going to do right now is bathe, and if you want, some touching,” I explained.

“I’ve never ... never ... only my mother and sisters have seen me without clothes,” she explained.

“If you’re worried about what I’ll think, I already think that you’re as beautiful as your sister. If you join us, I’m going to get excited just looking at you,” I warned.

“Emma told me that, too,” Belle giggled. This time it was my turn to blush. I quickly stripped out of my clothes while Belle gawked. Emma joined me in shedding her clothing. She was bare beneath them.

“Still want to join us?” I asked Belle. She nodded, but her eyes never left my tomahawk handle.

“May I?” I asked, taking hold of the top one of the three buttons on her blue gingham dress. She stared at my hands for a second and then nodded.

“This one too?” I asked when the top button was undone, receiving another nod, although slightly quicker. She agreed when I asked about the third button, and it was quickly undone.

“Off?” I asked as I took a handful of dress material in each hand and raised it very slowly so she could stop me. This time she swallowed nervously before nodding and watched the progress of my hands until the material from her dress blocked her view.

Her dress was simple enough to remove. Like her sister yesterday, she wore nothing beneath it, probably to preserve the limited clothing they had and to keep from overheating during the hot summer days. Belle was blushing furiously when her face was visible again. “I was right, you’re beautiful,” I said, drawing her to me for another kiss. When this one ended, Emma kissed her, and their kiss was as passionate as my kiss had been.

Belle let Emma guide her into the tub. “Ooooohhhhh,” she moaned. “This is heavenly,” she said as she watched where she put her feet. I followed her into the tub, my eyes glued to the beautiful young woman.

“Will I be your new wife too?” she asked as she turned towards me.

“Yes,” I replied, “you and your sister will be my wives.”

“Then let’s bathe and consummate our marriage,” she replied in a low, throaty voice.

When we finished bathing, I asked Belle if her family knew where she went. She admitted that she left a note telling them she was going to find Emma and planned to stay with her, no matter what happened.

“You need to go tell her family tomorrow that Belle and Emma are safe,” Nawaji said. The other girls agreed.

Belle said that she hadn’t been riding hard today so I should be able to catch the wagon train tomorrow and return home the next day.

Belle’s nervousness returned a little bit when we headed for our bedroom. With Belle being nervous about her first time, Emma and I both concentrated on making her feel good.

Saturday August 5, 1843

This morning I awoke before the roosters. Loathe to get out of bed and leave so many wives, I began teasing Tara. She woke up and was definitely in the mood. By the time we finished, Mahala and Sallie wanted a turn. I was already worn out when I got out of bed and the sun hadn’t even risen yet.

While the girls fixed breakfast and packed food for me to take, I told Isum and Jimmey what I wanted done today. Jimmey and one of the men from the fort would start plowing new fields so they would be easier to prepare for planting next spring. I showed Isum what I wanted done for the smokehouses. They would have to cut lumber for the door frames, as well as the doors and for the ceilings. I had used a piece of Tara’s paper yesterday and sketched what I intended to do. Each smokehouse was to be ten feet square and ten feet high. It was higher than necessary, but I didn’t want to hit my head on the roof beams. The walls would be mortared stone a foot thick. The top of the smokehouse would be flat since we didn’t have to worry about rain or snow inside the barn cave.

When we built the walls, I wanted cutouts in the stone at the top of the side walls to hold three evenly spaced 8” X 8” oak timbers. Using one of our augers, we’d make holes sideways clear through each timber, so the holes were one foot, three feet, five feet, seven feet, and nine feet from the left wall. Before assembling the roof, we’d run a thick, round oak rod clear through each set of holes. If we hung large game on meat hooks, those hooks would fit over the thick oak rods. I planned to use a spokeshave to round the oak rods to make them the right size for the holes.

Once we assembled and installed the roof beams and round oak rods, we’d cover the top with planks cut from dead cottonwood trees and then layer plaster over it. We could use the top to store things where they were up out of the way and the animals couldn’t reach them. Each smokehouse would have a small opening above the wooden door allowing it to breathe, and small holes near the floor to let more air in. After debating what to use as a floor, we settled on covering the natural limestone cave floor with a layer of sand from the streambed. We’d build a shallow rock and mortar firebox in the center of each smokehouse and decided to use wood for generating heat and to create the smoke. Coal was much more plentiful, but I’d never heard of using it to smoke meat and worried that it might leave a bad taste.

Nawaji and the girls had already made wooden racks to hang thin slices of meat on to use in the smokehouses once we built them. They used the willow, cottonwood, and hardwood branches we’d collected while cutting timber.

When I finished my explanation, my breakfast was ready, and the girls had packed four days’ worth of food for me. I filled two tin canteens and two gourd canteens with water. Isum and Jimmey already had two horses saddled for me so I could trade off once this morning and once this afternoon. After gathering kisses from each of the girls, I climbed into the saddle. Each horse had a dual rifle scabbard and both rifles, and I wore a double holster with two Colt Paterson revolvers. I also had a shotgun behind each saddle.

I double-checked to make sure every weapon was fully loaded and that I had plenty of ammunition for the different weapons. Between the two revolvers and four rifles, I had thirty shots before I had to reload. That didn’t count the two shotguns. Everyone followed me out the door and watched me leave.

“Hurry back,” Tara said unnecessarily. I whistled and called for Wizzer who was eager to go with me. Once clear of the slightly sloping path from the stream up to the cave, I urged the horses to go faster.

Rather than go east to Fort John, cross the Platte River, and then double back west along the established trail to Oregon, I turned west and rode about halfway to where we mined coal. There, the trail crossed a buffalo trace that Nawaji had showed me the first time we came this way. I followed it to the Platte River where it led to a ford that was nearly as shallow as the one at Fort John. I had to hold my feet out of the water for about half of the crossing, but made it across dry. Wizzer seemed to enjoy the early morning swim and soaked everything within ten feet as he shook himself off afterwards. After letting both horses drink, we continued south along the buffalo trace that emerged from the river until I reached the trail to Oregon. Wizzer bounded into the woods frequently, always reappearing a few minutes later.

I knew the route for several more miles because I hunted in the area frequently. Nawaji had shown me several good, natural shelters where I could get out of inclement weather during the winter if I was hunting or trapping. Mule had worked on each of the shelters to make them more weatherproof. We had even left a basket of coal, kindling, and dried moss in several of the shelters to make the nights much more bearable if I had to use one. Well before mid-morning, I found where the wagon train had stopped their first night out of Fort John. They got a late start the day we bought Emma and only made about eight miles. This was the campsite where Belle left her family yesterday morning. It was afternoon before I found the wagon train’s campsite from last night.

Switching horses, I continued past mid-afternoon until I finally saw the wagon train up ahead of me. Watching the clues the livestock frequently left behind on the ground had let me know I was close to catching them.

As I rode up, six men armed with rifles and suspicious of my motives met me. “I’m looking for the Thorne family. I want to let them know that their daughter Belle is safe,” I said.

One of the men nodded and led me to the Thorne family’s wagon. I recognized the driver just before he turned and saw me. “Belle is safe,” I said.

“Oh, thank God,” he exclaimed emotionally.

“She wanted to stay with her sister and my family agreed that she could. She’ll be well taken care of,” I promised. “You can write to both girls care of Lewis Clark at Fort John. We’re there often enough selling them goods that they’ll hold the letter for us. The girls plan to write to you in Fort Vancouver next spring.

“Thank you,” he said tearfully. “We were torn up about leaving Emma behind. When Belle left like that, it was even worse. We were worried that something would happen to her.”

With my message delivered, I turned and headed for home, purposely not mentioning how Belle had arrived at our place. There was no need for me to make it more traumatic for the family. I shook my head and chuckled watching Wizzer. He had been excited about exploring all day and now seemed eager to head home. Maybe he thought we were just exploring back the other direction. I couldn’t make it all the way home today, but I could reach the closest of three shelters before dark, a shelter half a mile from the trail. Several dead trees leaning against a rock face provided the framework for the shelter.

Over the years, Mule had woven in more branches as crosspieces. He covered the lower half with rocks and covered the top half with adobe mud with smaller rocks embedded in it. By now, the shelter was complete with an entrance barely wide enough to walk through turned sideways. Nearby trees and brush made the shelter nearly impossible to see unless you knew where to look. The surrounding trees provided shelter for the animals. I hobbled the horses and retired for the night, not making a fire so the smoke wouldn’t give me away.

“Better safe than sorry,” Dad had always advised.

I made it home safely before noon the next day.

Sunday September 3, 1843

Rocks abound here, making the job of gathering them easier. We have twenty-seven wagonloads of rocks piled in the barn cave and haven’t gone more than three miles from the door. Well, six of the wagonloads were pieces of flat reddish sandstone that came from farther away. About two hours’ ride east of the cave was a place where we could see layering in the rock formations making up the ridges. One of the layers was reddish sandstone and there were flat two-inch thick chunks of it scattered all over the ground where wind and rain had eroded the layer beneath the sandstone and the sandstone had fallen to the ground.

I was excited remembering the sandstone floor of a fancy building in Lexington and I planned to use the sandstone and mortar to help smooth out the floor in the living part of the cave. The rocks we have piled in the barn are in addition to what we already used to build our six smokehouses.

Watching how much work the girls do makes me glad that we have so many women. All day long they cook, clean, do laundry, tend the garden, milk the cows, care for the chickens, and feed the pigs. In their spare time, they deal with the game Nawaji, Isum, Jimmey, and I bring home and harvest food from the garden. Some food they store in the cold room. Other food they dry or bottle for this coming winter. They make butter and cheese from the milk, feeding the buttermilk to the pigs.

When Nawaji saw us building the smokehouses in the cave, she insisted that we build some outdoors as well. I reminded her that people and animals could break into them but she explained that different Sioux, Arapaho, and Cheyenne villages could use them. In the past, our valley had provided a good place for them to set up a temporary village while they processed the buffalo they killed nearby, drying it so they had food for the coming winter. Nawaji and I had already killed two buffalo to christen the smokehouses with. At her insistence, we built two sets of eight smokehouses outside.