Ride the River (1983) s-5 Page 8

  Several wagons were all ready to pull out, and Ralph said never a word, just motioned to the back of the wagon, and I climbed in and we were rolling.

  Among the piled-up packages and rolls of bedding, I found a place to settle my back in a niche, and soon fell asleep, awakening to find it daylight and to see two round-eyed children staring at me.

  "Well!" I said cheerfully enough. "My name is Echo, what's yours?"

  The little girl looked away, twisting her fingers, but the boy said, "Jimmy. I am Jimmy Drennan, and this is my sister, Empily. She's scared."

  "Empily?" I asked.

  "Emily!" she said sharply. "Empily! He always calls me that!" Then she looked at me. "Is Echo a name?"

  "It's my name," I said, "but, yes, it is a name. We use it for the echoing sounds we hear, but it was a name before that. Echo was the name of a nymph, a sort of sprite, I guess you'd say. She was always chattering, so Hera, who was a goddess, ruled that she should never speak first, and never be silent when anyone else spoke. But Echo fell in love with Narcissus, and when he died she pined away until only her voice was left."

  "That's just a story!" Jimmy said.

  "You're right, it is, but a very, very old story. When I first went to school, my teacher told me all that."

  "Are you going to pine away until you are just a voice?" Jimmy asked.

  "Probably not," I admitted. "I have never met Narcissus."

  "You will," their mother said. She sat up. "I am Laura Drennan. I hope they aren't annoying you."

  "You know they aren't. We don't have any young-uns where I live, and I miss them."

  "Where is your home?"

  "In the mountains of Tennessee. Away back in the hills. We have lots of bears back there."

  "Do they eat people?" Jimmy demanded.

  "Not often," I said, "although I suppose if they got really hungry, they might."

  "You'veseen a bear? A wild bear? Up close?"

  "Several of them. In fact, my uncle is laid up right now because of a fight he had with one. He was without his gun and he disturbed a bear that turned on him."

  Ralph Drennan looked over his shoulder "You mean he fought a bear? Without a gun?"

  "He had a knife and later a double-bit ax." She glanced at Jimmy. "That's an ax with two blades. He had to fight with what he had, but he killed the bear."

  Ralph glanced at me, unbelieving, then turned back to his driving. There was silence in the wagon. Jimmy was the first to speak. "Did the bear bite him?"

  "Several times. He clawed him pretty bad, too. Regal killed the bear, then dragged himself almost home. We found him by the spring when we went for water."

  By midday we were winding along a very rough road through a dense forest, the trees so thick overhead that it was shadowed and still. Ours was the lead wagon, but Ralph Drennan's team was a good one and they moved steadily on, bumping over logs, squeezing past fallen trees, stopping occasionally to give the horses a breather.

  His rifle lay in a corner of the wagon, and it looked to be almost new. I could not see the make of it, but it was a Lancaster rifle, I was sure of that.

  "Do you hunt much?" I asked.

  He looked over his shoulder. "I have hunted scarcely at all. Not since I was a boy. I have been working in the city," he added, "and decided there was little future for me there, so we decided to try pioneering. We are going to Kentucky," he said, "and probably to Missouri."

  We moved on again, and I fell asleep. When I awakened again it was almost dark and the children were asleep; moving carefully, I worked my way to the front of the wagon.

  "Want me to spell you?" I asked.

  "You can drive a team?" He was amazed.

  "Where I come from, ever'body drives," I said. "I can drive, I can plow, I can do what is necessary."

  "I'd gladly let you," he admitted, "because I am tired, but I've got to find a place to camp."

  "Better do it soon," I suggested, "or it will be too dark to see where we're at. Why don't you catch a nap? I can find a camp."

  He hesitated. "Well, I'll rest just for a minute."

  I taken the reins and he moved back into the wagon. Glancing up through the trees, I could see he'd already waited too late if a body was to gather firewood and such, so I kept my eyes open. Sure enough, we hadn't gone two miles when I saw a small clearing near a branch, a small stream that rustled over the rocks, heading for the Ohio and the sea.

  Rounding the wagon against the woods on the far side, I brought the team to a halt and showed the other wagons where to turn in. There were just three others, and there was room enough, but barely. Catching a glimpse of some open space, I walked that way and found a small meadow. Others had stopped here before us. Unhitching the team, with Jimmy to help, I led the horses out on the meadow and picketed them there. The others, following me, did likewise.

  Laura got down from the wagon with Emily. "Better keep them close," I advised. "Young-uns get lost in the woods an' might never be found."

  Taken me only a minute or two to break some sticks, gather some shreds of old bark, and get a fire going. It is surely amazing how a fire cheers folks up. "I'd better wake Ralph up," Laura suggested.

  "Wait until we've coffee made," I said. "He's put in a long day."

  The others built another fire and we made do between the two. Coffee was boiling when Ralph got down from the wagon. "I'm afraid I just passed out," he said. "I'm sorry."

  "No need," I said.

  He came up to the fire and Laura poured him a cup of coffee.

  "Maybe," I said, "come daybreak you'd let me use that rifle of yours? This here's game country, and I might get us some meat."

  "You can shoot?"

  "A mite," I said. "I can try."

  Chapter 11

  Come daybreak, I taken that rifle and started off across the meadow. The trees were almighty big, poplars fifteen, sixteen feet around, and red maple almost as big. The soil underfoot was as good as any I'd seen, hundreds of years of leaves falling, decaying, and turning to earth, and big trees struck down by age, wind, or lightning also were decaying and adding to the richness of the soil. This Ohio country was a mighty fine land. Easing through the woods beyond the meadow, I saw another clearing right ahead, and a deer standing there, not more than eighty yards off.

  These folks didn't have much, and we needed the meat, so I fetched him with a neck shot and taken the venison back to camp.

  Ralph looked up, surprised. "You got a deer?"

  "Small buck," I said. Then I looked at him. "I aim to pay my way." I handed back the rifle. "Take good care of it, that's a fine weapon. I'll clean it when we get rolling."

  We shared the meat with the other wagons, giving each enough for a meal.

  It was slow going there at first, but we hit some open stretches that enabled us to make time. All the time, I kept my eyes ready for Timothy Oats and Elmer. They would be coming along behind, or maybe even waiting for me in Wheeling, where I figured to catch the steamboat.

  On the third day I killed four ducks in four shots. Jimmy was with me and he carried two of the ducks back to the wagon. "That's good shooting," Ralph admitted. "You were lucky to catch them sitting."

  "She didn't," Jimmy said proudly. "They took off from the water and she got one that time. She got the others later, shot 'em on the wing."

  "Flying ducks? With a rifle?"

  "Back to home," I said, "I never had no shotgun there at first. It was shoot 'em with a rifle or forget it."

  Back in the wagon, we sang songs, some of them hymns which we all knew, others the songs we'd learned as youngsters or those they sang in the mountains. Often in the hills folks would put new words to old tunes, or pick up a refrain and work something around it. We sang what songs we had, and made up others as we went along.

  Wheeling was built on a bottom along the river, most of the town on one street, with a hill rising behind it. Here, too, there was a ropewalk, some stores, warehouses, and an inn where I found a place to stay the night.
There would be a steamboat in the morning, and I'd made up my mind to leave it at Cincinnati and travel across country to home.

  When they put me down in front of the inn, I said good-bye to Laura, Ralph, and the youngsters, and I guess we all cried a little bit, sorry to part, with small chance of ever meeting again.

  The food was good at the inn, and I waited by the window, watching out for Timothy Oats and Elmer. There was no sign of them, nor was there when I went down to the boat.

  I'd recharged my pistols and was ready for whatever. In a shop near the inn I'd found a seamstress who had a sky-blue dress and bonnet that taken my eye, so I bought it. My gray travelin' dress was lookin' kind of used up. I also bought from her a travelin' outfit, somewhat cheaper, but sturdy. I had the feeling I'd need it.

  With my carpetbag stuffed, I stood by waitin' for that boat.

  They might be aboard, but I was going to ride it anyway. If they were eager to fetch trouble, I'd not let them yearn for it. So I was standin' there on the dock when I heard that ol' whistle blow and saw that steamboat come chug-chuggin' up to the island.

  I looked up as it came alongside, and there by the rail were two men standin', a big black man and a tall, right handsome fellow with as fine a set of shoulders as I'd ever seen. My heart did a flip-flop.It couldn't be! Not here!

  Suddenly I was glad I'd bought that blue dress and the bonnet with the lace, but he wasn't evenlooking at me! He didn't even see me!

  A man tipped his hat. "Ma'am? Were you going aboard, ma'am?"

  "Oh? Oh, yes! Of course!"

  "Better hurry, ma'am, that gangway is down only for minutes. The cap'n, ma'am, he's in a powerful hurry!"

  Taking up my bag, I went to the gangway. Glancing up there again, I saw the black man watching me. He said something to the tall young man, but he was looking off over my head at somebody. I turned around, and there behind me was Elmer.

  He grinned at me, showing his ugly teeth. "Carry your bag, ma'am?"

  I turned away from him and went up the gangway, and as I came aboard, Timothy Oats was standing there, not smiling or anything, but just looking at me. His cut lip had healed but there was meanness in his eyes. I walked right past him and went along the deck to an officer.

  He was a young, handsome boy with cornsilk hair and a face red from the sun. "Cabin, ma'am? Come, an' I'll show you."

  "Sir? That man by the gangway. I think his name is Oats. I don't want my cabin close to his. Please?"

  "I'll see, ma'am. I am afraid there's little choice, we're that crowded, but you need have no fear aboard this boat, the cap'n is a stickler for propriety. You will not be disturbed, I promise you."

  The cabin was very small and there were two bunks; a valise was already sitting on the lower one.

  "Oh? I must share the cabin with someone?"

  "Yes, ma'am. Most folks sleep out on the deck, we're that short of space. Seems like everybody's travelin' these days. You goin' far, ma'am?"

  "To Cincinnati, I think. I might go further."

  "Hope you do." He touched his cap to me. "It isn't often we have a girl aboard as pretty as you."

  "Thank you. Do you know who is sharing this cabin with me?"

  "Yes, ma'am. She's an older lady. She's going to Cincinnati too. She is called Mrs. Buchanan."

  "Called? Isn't that her name?"

  He glanced around quickly. "I wouldn't repeat this, ma'am, but I was on another steamboat where she was a passenger, and she had a different name then." Suddenly he was worried. "I shouldn't have said that, but you be careful. You see, I could be wrong about her."

  When he was gone, I looked up at that upper bunk. My carpetbag was heavy. How ever was I to get it up there? And I did want it where I could feel it near me. I'd lost it once and did not intend to again.

  It was heavy, but I managed, after all. I put it on the back side of the bunk, and my pillow covered it a mite. From down below, I couldn't see it at all.

  At the mirror, which was not a very good one, I primped a little, tucking in a curl here, fluffing my hair a little there. Then, letting my bonnet hang by its ribbon, I went out on deck. There was a place nearby where I could stand by the rail and still keep my cabin door in view.

  We were already out from shore and moving down the Ohio.

  The banks were high bluffs and heavily wooded. Here, as on the roads, were a lot of people moving. They were in flatboats or keel boats, once in a while somebody in a canoe. Most of them were going downstream.

  A voice sounded close by, and I looked around. There was that young man! The black man was beside him. He glanced at me, and I smiled.

  He stared, shocked, then turned away, turning his back on me. It was him, all right, those same broad shoulders and the back of his head I would know anywhere.

  Well! If he wanted to be that way, all right ! Glancing toward my cabin, I saw a woman at the door. She was folding a parasol and about to enter, so I crossed to the door and went in behind her.

  Hearing my step, she turned. She had large, very blue eyes, and lips so red they had to be painted, but the job was well done and one could not be sure, not really.

  "Oh? You are the young lady who shares the cabin?"

  "I am."

  "You're very pretty, you know. Do come in! It is crowded, but we can manage." She held out her hand. She wore several rings. Two of them looked like diamonds, although I had never seen a diamond, just heard of them. "I am Essie Buchanan. I am going to Cincinnati."

  "So am I."

  "Oh? Perhaps I can entertain you there. It is a rough town, but a good, lively one. If you like a good time, it is the place to have it. No end to the men, and most of them very handsome."

  "I shan't be there long."

  "That's too bad." She glanced at me again, a quick, measuring look. "You are traveling alone?"

  "I am." I paused. "I think I'm to be met."

  She talked a little, mostly of clothes and the weather, and after a bit she started back to the deck. "Would you like to join me? On the promenade?"

  "No, thank you. I think I will just rest."

  When she was gone, the cabin smelled of her perfume. I didn't like it very much. She was a handsome woman, and very expensively dressed, but something about her didn't seem right. Or maybe what the young officer had said was influencing me. I must not be prejudiced. Nonetheless, I had to watch the cabin. Timothy Oats would steal my bag and all that was in it if given a chance.

  A thought occurred to me. What was Dorian Chantry doinghere ? This was a long way from the hunts, balls, and belles of Philadelphia. Maybe I was mistaken. After all, I had never seen his face. I could not be sure. He must think me brazen, smiling at him like that. The thought made me flush with shame. What a fool I was!

  If I had not seen him, he certainly had not seen me, his back to me and all.

  The young officer who had shown me to my stateroom explained the boat to me. Although I'd heard most of it before, I listened with rapt attention. Long ago, Regal advised me: "Men like to talk of what concerns them. Learn to listen, and if you can ask a question now and again, do it. Give them those big eyes of yours and you'll have no problem. You'll be bored often enough, but you'll learn a lot, too, and they will go away telling everybody what a charmin' girl you are.

  "You learn to listen, or at least act like you're listening and you'll find menfolks doin' all sorts of things for you. Smooths the way, y' know? An' if you're modest about it an' don't flaunt yourself around, the women will like you too.

  "A man, he's got to get along mostly with hard work an' persistence, but with a woman it is mostly maneuver. Men have to maneuver too, especially so when it comes to womenfolks."

  "You see," the young officer was saying, "there's two lines of cabins, with the main cabin in between. The doors from the cabins open on the main cabin, where folks can mingle and get acquainted. We serve meals there, too.

  "Most of the cargo is stowed on the main deck, but sometimes bales of cotton or whatever are piled higher tha
n the deck we're on."

  His name was Robinson and he seemed a nice young man. "If there is anything I can do for you, just call on me."

  At supper in the main cabin there were three tables. Sure enough, I was seated at the same table with that tall young man. The captain introduced everybody to everybody else, and sure enough, he was Dorian Chantry. When my name was mentioned, he looked across the table and our eyes met. He flushed and looked away, which seemed odd, for he was supposed to be a ladies' man.

  There was an older man at the table, a stocky man, taking on some fat at the belt, with thinning white hair, but a face that seemed young for the hair. He glanced at me when my name was mentioned, but said nothing. His name was Ginery Wooster.

  At the third table, Timothy Oats was seated close to Essie Buchanan. They were talking. I did not look at them, not wanting them to realize I'd noticed. I had to get away; I had to get off this boat, somehow, some way.

  Suddenly I felt trapped, closed in. I did not trust that woman, and now she was talking to Oats. Probably it was idle conversation, but I dared not risk it.

  I glanced across the table at Dorian Chantry. Did I dare ask his help? Did he even know about me? If I could just get off, in the middle of the night, when no one suspected .

  I was a fool to be thinking of him. He had not so much as noticed me. It was my family I must consider, and what this money would do for them. We had been poor for such a long time. We lived all right because we could hunt, but now it could be different.

  Very different.

  What I needed now was time to think, to plan. If I could get off this steamboat now, or soon, I could get a horse and ride south. It was closer to home than Cincinnati, although wilder country, I believed.

  If I only had a map of the river! Often the steamboat stopped at small places, sometimes only landings. If I could get off without anybody knowing, get off in the middle of the night ...

  That nice young man, Robinson. He would know. He had offered to help.

  He wasn't thinking of that kind of help, I warned myself. Still, if I could just get off somewhere ...

  I could get Mr. Robinson to show me a chart of the river. I knew they must have some in the pilothouse. Suddenly I was startled from my thinking. He was speaking to me. Dorian Chantry was speaking tome !