Chapter 5

We all got into our small house, Harry included, making it damned crowded. I told Harry, Charley and Hank to sit on our bed while I helped Berta get something for us to eat. This wasn’t a problem, for she had made a stew and always there was more than enough for two of us. Harry said he had eaten earlier.

Berta and I could hear Harry asking questions about his brother and why they had decided to come west. I gathered that it was because the farm they owned wasn’t very good, too small, and they wanted something bigger. He wanted to keep the family together even after Charley and Hank married and had families of their own.

Harry spoke up, “That’s the reason I left home. I knew your Grandfather would be giving the family farm to my sister and your dad had his own place so I picked up and left. I kind of like it out here. I’ve met some great people, especially Brady and Berta. Pete, Tom and me, have been together for five years or more. We were trapping together and would still be, but then Brady won the freight business in a poker game, we threw in with him. He’s a good man to be with.”

This was making me feel glad that I had stepped in and rescued the lass. I still hadn’t had a chance to look her and her brother over. You don’t see behind you when teaming a hitch of oxen. It was just dark when Hank got down from my horse and Charley dismounted from the wagon. Lamp light in our home wasn’t the brightest either.

I ate quickly because I had to have the teams and hay wagons ready to go early in the morning. Harry started to get up when I did, but I told him to sit still and visit with his family. Their wagon and oxen were pulling in when I went down to the yard. I showed them where to leave it for the night. Jack was coming from the stable. He was carrying a lantern

“Come into the house. Sarah will have supper ready for me. The hostler tells me you picked up some of Harry’s family on your way home?”

“Yeah, his brother and wife died a few days ago and his niece and nephew were having some trouble before I came along. Guess the kids figured I was safer to be with than their wagon boss. I didn’t find out until I run him off that they might be related to Harry.

“Jack, we got the hay moving job. Can we get the wagons on the trail real early? The teamsters just have to get there and then the seller will do the loading. It would be good if they can get back and overnight here in the yard before going on. We’ll need the hay racks and a lot of ropes to tie the hay on with.”

“Okay Brady, I’ll go down to the bunkhouse and get things set up.”

I turned away, then back, “Let me have your lantern. The kids will need it getting to their wagon and I don’t have a spare. I guess they will have to stay in the wagon until Harry finds a place for them.”

“Hell Brady, build Harry a shanty and let him take care of them. How old is the girl?”

“She is almost sixteen. I haven’t seen that much of her yet, but she’s tall and I’d guess she is well put together from what little I’ve seen. I guess I’m glad I stopped or she and Harry might never have found each other. Also, the way she was standing up to the wagon train boss, I can see she is no kind of a shrinking violet. She won’t be sitting around being a burden to Harry either.”

“How old is the boy?”

“Don’t have any idea. He looks about ten, but he is a strong, wiry little cuss. He was driving the four oxen when I first saw the train and hours later, he was still at it. He was some scared when those two men held them up from moving on with their wagon, but any kid would have been. You have to remember they just buried their Ma and Pa, too.”

“You’d think people would stay back home, but they keep coming. More and more every year.”

“Jack, did you, and did I? Think about it.”

“Guess you’re right. People have a dream and have to follow it. Some will make it and some won’t.” I couldn’t think of more to say on this.

I came into the house. “Harry, I borrowed a lantern. You want me or Berta to go down to the wagon and help get Charley and Hank settled in.”

“No, as long as they have a light, they’ll be fine. I’m staying with them tonight. I’ll sleep in my brother’s bunk. Charley has a curtain she pulls for privacy. We’ll go down now, they are pretty tired.”

Charley, I could tell was waiting to say something. “Berta, thank you for supper, it was wonderful. Brady, I shudder to think what tonight would have been if you hadn’t stopped when you saw Hank and me in trouble. I’ll be thanking the Lord tonight in my prayers for sending you to help when we needed it so badly.”

Harry spoke up, “Me too, Brady, stopping for the kids like you did and you not even knowing they were my family just shows everybody what kind of a man you are.”

“Go on to bed. We’ll see about everything tomorrow.”

Berta came to me when the door closed and we were alone. “Brady, what a wonderful thing you have done. I’m so proud of you. They didn’t say much except you ran those men off. What really happened?”

“Well, I saw the wagon and two youngsters before I got to where I was going. I was wondering then, how come there was a kid driving the oxen. When I finished arranging to move the hay, I came up on the same wagon from behind. There was the wagon boss and this man had the wagon stopped. The man’s name was Wheeler. I took it he was just a single man with the train, maybe for hunting or something.

“He didn’t look to be any prize and older than us by a whole lot. He wanted the wagon and the team, and he wanted Charley. The wagon boss even said she was old enough to take on a man. She probably is, but she should have a chance to do her own choosing.”

“What I saw of her, she certainly looks as if she could handle a man. She’s taller than me and fills out that heavy kirtle she has on considerable better than I ever could.”

“You fill out a dress to my satisfaction.”

“Yeah, and I’m going fill it out a lot more. The only problem is it is going to be all sticking out in front of me.”

“Sweetheart, that’s the point. It’s what we both want.”

“Mister, you just said the right thing. We could go to bed now. You must be tired.”

“Not too tired.”

I rolled out early and headed for the freight yard. Jack had the wagons ready. The teamsters were having a last cup of coffee before heading out. I addressed them, “Men if it looks like you don’t have time to get back here during daylight, hold up somewhere and wait for morning. I don’t want you coming through town after dark. Too much can go wrong the way you will be loaded.”

“Okay Brady. If it doesn’t come right, we’ll layover someplace else and head right up the trail. We might do that anyway.”

“Good. Send Pete in to keep us posted. He and Tom will be on horses riding ahead and behind making the drivers aware what the traffic is like, but don’t forget one load comes here anyway.” I watched as they all wheeled out of the yard.

Jack came up and stood beside me. “We’ve got a good crew Brady, and it’s only because you look out for them. You’re giving them all a home and work and that’s what counts.”

“Yeah, but it started as your crew before me. With us taking on Sarah and the loyal men to Frachette, all have come together rather well.”

“Brady, let Sarah feed Harry’s niece and nephew breakfast. Berta shouldn’t have to do it all. Harry can eat at the cook shack. We’ll get together and decide what to do with them afterward.”

“Okay, fine with me. I’ll go up and have breakfast myself.” Sarah’s house was larger than ours, so we agreed to meet there.

We did meet with Harry, Sarah, Jack, Berta, and me, with the two kids. Charley couldn’t be really classified as a child. She was well on the way to becoming a woman. With the right clothes, she would be a beautiful one.

It was decided that Hank would bunk in with the men in the bunkhouse. We found out that Hank was thirteen. He was a damned small, almost fourteen, but should spurt up soon. Charley would have their wagon to use for a home temporarily. A shanty would be built across the creek before winter and then Hank, she, and Harry would make a home of it.

In the meantime, Charley would be with either Sarah or Berta when they went into town to the office. Hank and she both would be responsible for their two yoke of oxen by seeing they were fed and the stable cleaned out around them.

“Brady, if they are needed to move freight, you are welcomed to use them. They are good work animals.”

“Okay. Are any of them that will work alone hitched to a cart? Berta’s cart isn’t being used and it has shafts.”

“One pair could be used. Either one of them will work alone hitched to something like that. Pa had them either skidding logs, plowing ground separately or as a pair.”

“We’ll find a use for them then. You could sell them to some of the wagon trains that go by here.”

“No, they are family. I want we should keep them. One other thing Brady, Hank and I do have a little money. Can we put it into a bank?”

“The first time you go into town, Berta will show you where the bank is located.”

The hay wagons didn’t come in for a layover that afternoon. The one wagon that was to be my pay pulled in at ten the next morning. It was a huge load. The sides of the hay had been raked down and then ropes had been crisscrossed over it. Pete said, “Every one of the loads is like this. The owner sure knows how to fork hay on and build up a load. None of us could have done as well.”

“Good, then they will make it to the man who bought it.”

“Yeah, without a problem.” We decided that we would leave the hay on the wagon and just as soon as the hay barn went up this would be the first hay to go into it. Charley and Hank were curious to see what was going on in the freight yard. They watched everything. Someone put Hank on a horse and he went out to the pasture where the extra horses and mules were held.

Riding a saddle was something he liked. At home, they didn’t have a saddle horse he could ride. My putting him on a horse the day I found them made him my friend forever. One of the men out at the pasture took him under his wing and began making him a rider.

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Charley had her mentors too. Berta and Sarah had her with them whenever they went to town. They even bought her some of the same clothes that they wore. She was much slimmer of course, but you damned well knew she was female. She was just as well satisfied being around the action here at the new yard too. The smith worked every day and the crew was building the hay barn.

She went to Jack and asked him if she could have the smashed up wagon parts that had come from the Frachette property. These were totally scrap and only good for wood this winter. There were also the short pieces that were sawn off the timbers from all the building going on. He told her she could have them if she would move them out of the way. She soon had a huge pile out behind the blacksmith area.

When that was done I saw her and Harry down at the creek digging up some clay and loading it into Berta’s cart. I asked her what she was doing. “I thought I would see if I could make some bricks. Harry said we should have a fireplace to heat our shanty.”

“Go for it, Charley. Ask the men building the barn to knock together some forms to make them in if you want.”

“That’ll be great, and better than hand making them.” I laughed for she had Pete and Tom working right along with her and Harry. That is if Jack didn’t have them out with a load of freight. It wasn’t long before there was a blocked off level section covered with drying bricks. Just as soon as they air dried enough, she built an oven with some of them and went to work baking the rest. She was using soft wood to fire the oven and I wondered why. “What are you doing?”

“Brady, I’m building a kiln. The oven I’ve put together won’t bake the clay hard enough to construct a really good kiln, but the ones I am baking will. It’s a two-step process.”

“There’s not enough clay around to make very many bricks. I suppose I can ask around where I can find some. Freight cost to bring it in will make the bricks expensive.”

“Brady, I’m just making enough bricks for a kiln and for a fireplace. I was watching the smith and he said he was always short of charcoal. Pa had his own forge and made his own charcoal to use. I watched him build his kiln and I know how to do it. He was always explaining what he was doing as he worked at something. You said I could have all the pieces of hardwood that were lying around so I’m making you some charcoal out of it. What I get from the wood should go Hammer quite a spell.”

“You can do that?”

“I can if Uncle Harry will do some of the chopping.”

“I’ll make it his job. I’m paying him wages anyway. I’ll pay you half what we have to pay for the charcoal. That would be about twenty cents a bushel for you.”

“No, we need a building to live in this winter. I’ll make the charcoal if the men in their spare time will give us a hand.”

“You’ll get a shanty by cold weather, I promise. Why isn’t Hank helping you out with this?”

“There are a couple of Mexican Vaqueros up from Texas out where the livestock is pastured. They are teaching Hank to ride and rope. They said they might go mustanging next summer during dry time. They also said he wasn’t strong enough to catch horses. He laughed at them and said the horse did all the work. He was just going to sit in the saddle and tell the horse what to do. You never should have let Hank sit your saddle the day you found us.”

“Is he staying in the wagon with you?”

“Nope, he bunks with the men. He willingly works hard around the place doing chores and stuff. He doesn’t ever want to be a dirt farmer like Pa was.”

“Well, I guess as long as he is busy, it is okay. Are you satisfied living around here? I know you were headed for California.”

“Of course we’ll stay. Uncle Harry is here and he is a lot like Pa was. Uncle says we will find something to do that can make us both a good living.”

“Maybe this charcoal idea will pan out. It has many uses that we need. Finding dry wood though would be the problem.”

“We’ll see if the kiln works out. I think it will. Pa was a good teacher.”

“Something will come to you. Making charcoal is a lot of work, so it probably won’t be what you are looking for.”

“It takes a long time to get wood dry, so I guess you are right. Of course I could go play poker like you did.” Charley grinned and shook her head.

“You said you heard about that.”

“We did not long after we joined the wagon train. You know you should have a royal flush painted on each one of your wagons. That would spread the word about your freight line. In fact, can I try my hand at it?”

“Sure, go for it. If I like it, I’ll pay you four bits a picture. Make sure the hand is holding clubs.

“Do you want a painted picture on both sides of the wagon?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll get Sarah to help me get some paint colors. She claims she doesn’t have enough to do.” I would dispute this if asked. All four of us partners were damned busy in my opinion.

Jack was everywhere. He had to be moved out of the yard in town to finish putting up buildings here at the new place. Berta and Sarah were staffing the office in town that I had arranged to keep after talking to the livery stable owner. Sarah was out and about town much more than Berta. She had been kept away from the public while married to Frachette and now she gloried in being able to move freely. Just as soon as the new barn was completed, she and Jack were to be married. They planned a dance on the new floor in honor of their wedding.

For myself, I was out making estimates that came in on the requests to move freight. Everything that moved was done by us. Our wagons ranged as far south as Denver, which was a new town that had sprung up. We were a distribution point for goods coming from the east. Sometimes we went north to the Mormon Crossing and west as far as Fort Bridger.

The Russell, Waddell and Majors freight line did much of the long distance hauling and they were a much bigger outfit than ours. The Indian wars were beginning and ours was the freight line that moved the supplies for the troops.

We soon learned what Cosgood, the banker, and his friends had in mind for Sarah Frechette’s former property. It was going to have an opera house on it. The town fathers were concerned about the number of bars that were being built. They figured this endeavor might be good to keep some of the fights to a minimum by filling up seats that would of an evening keep the men from going into a bar to socialize.

Charley had a plan and she stayed with it. Some of the bricks she made were a little rough and uneven. The clay had some pebbles in it and she knew if these were screened out she wouldn’t have enough material to make a sufficient number of bricks. She made enough anyway for three fireplaces and the kiln that had made her think of making charcoal.

The smith welded together a metal cap for the kiln out of some worn out wagon tires. This is what worried Charley because it was a needed component to construct a successful kiln. The metal cap that could be used several times.

Berta and I had been up the canyon behind our cabin to see the vista from the high mesa. Some of the men had been up there to hunt the buffalo. When Charley had used the last of the dry hardwood around the area, she came to me. “Brady I can’t make anymore charcoal until I get more dry wood. Can you find me some? I guess I can use some of my money to pay for it.”

It was Berta who asked the question if blown down trees could be used. She had been interested in what was growing in the canyon rather than just where we were going on the way up to the mesa. I had walked right by some dead trees that obviously could be used.

Now we inspected the canyon and found that there was a great amount of toppled trees. The canyon had acted much like a draft in a fireplace. Wind was always present. And in the winter time heavy snow and ice would form on the trees and they would come down with the extra weight helped by the wind.

Above our house and across our lot was the only access to this canyon. We didn’t own the timber rights, but situated as it was we might as well have. It was going to be difficult to get wood down out of the canyon because it was very steep.

However Charley owned two pair of oxen and they would be the best type of team for pulling trees to the area down by her kiln. The smaller pieces could come down in Berta’s old cart. I had tried to keep Harry, Pete and Tom free to help Charley with her brick making. Harry had split up what wood Charley had gathered into the right sized pieces.

Tom was a good worker and an excellent swamper for the teamsters. Harry was too, but felt he should be with his niece, although he chaffed at it. Pete, was a quiet person, did everything asked of him and did it well. Harry had made the comment one time that Pete was the smartest of the three friends. Soon after Charley joined us, Pete set himself apart from the other two by shaving his face at least every other day. Most working men wore whiskers.

Pete got kidded some about it. He just smiled and shrugged his shoulders, never giving an answer when asked why. We were having a busy fall and most of the time Jack needed two of the three men working at freighting. At first Harry was the one to be with Charley, but then I noticed if she wanted something done by any of them, it was Pete she asked.

When Charley started getting wood from the canyon to make charcoal, it was most usually Pete who chopped for her. She was the one to drive the oxen. I asked her where Hank was and why he wasn’t helping her.

“Hank is doing chores out at the pasture. He has made a lot of friends out there. The cowboys are teaching him to ride and rope. I told you this before. I didn’t tell you that there is also a free Nigra who worked for some plantation back in Kentucky that bred racing horses. He thinks Hank is a good prospect to learn to be a jockey. Something about being small and strong.”

“Nobody has race horses out here.”

“That’s what you think. All the teamsters are excited about it. They’ve set up a course around the pasture and are already holding races.”

“Are they using my horses? It could be dangerous for Hank and for the horse too. Does Harry know about what the kid is up to?”

“The animal that he is racing isn’t one of yours. It’s not even a horse, it’s a mule and terribly fast.”

“So who does own it?”

“Uncle Harry, Hank, and I own half of him. All the rest of your crew owns the other half. I put up the money. We three get half the purse and Hank gets paid for being on him. The men get the other half. They just buy liquor with it, buts its fun for all.”

“When is the next race? I think I want to see this mule. You know, I’ve always been partial to them. Where’d the mule come from?”

“Obie, the Nigra, spotted him when that last bunch of mules came in that you bought. He knew the filly he came out of because it was one that was at one time in the stable where he worked. He said she won races for the owner. He couldn’t trace the jack’s lineage, but if the mule is fast it doesn’t make that much difference. Anyway the main race starts at 1:00 in the afternoon on Sunday.”

“No, I guess if he is fast it wouldn’t make that much difference in the jack. Does Sarah and Jack know all about this?”

“Of course, we paid him for the mule. You didn’t lose any money on the deal either. Jack saw to that.” Charley was antsy like she wanted to say something. “Brady, let me go, I want to get two loads of wood down today.”

“Okay, sorry to hold you up. Who is helping you today?”

“Pete.”

“He is with you a lot isn’t he?” Charley blushed when I made this observation.

“Pete’s a good guy. I like him a lot.” Again, she looked as if she wanted to say something. “Brady, I’ve known my uncle, Pete, and Tom, two months. Pete is only nine years older than I am. He doesn’t drink and he saved most of the money he made trapping last winter. He certainly works harder than anyone else. I’m going to be sixteen next week. You heard me tell that Wheeler person that wanted me when you saved me I would find my own man. I think I have found him.”

“Charley, I can’t fault your choice in any way. When you know for sure, let Berta and Sarah know. They do love a wedding. Berta and I were married not long ago and Sarah and Jack will be married just before Thanksgiving. Without saying anything, I’ll get the men going about putting you up a home to live in.”

“Brady, don’t say anything about this. I think Pete will ask me soon. If he doesn’t, I’ll make it so he almost has too.”

“Okay. I won’t say a word.”

Charley had a few more words to say, “Brady, I’m sorry Berta met you before I did, but then I’m just a young girl who has met a man in shining armor. Berta and Sarah both talk to me and tell me about you. You know Pete is awful quiet and doesn’t say much, but I see quite a bit of you in him. I think that is why he is the man for me.”

“Charley, I wasn’t like this before I met Berta. I see you working so hard to cope with all that has happened to you and your loss of family. That’s the way it is with us. The same can be with you and Pete.” I didn’t know what more I could say. “Go on Charley you have work to do. I do agree Pete is a good man for you.” I turned and went up to see my wife, whomI had spotted watching me talking to this beautiful young woman.

We all went to the races Sunday afternoon. There were four animals running. There was our mule. A farmer thought he would try his saddle horse and it did have some lines. There was a gambler, who had won some races with his animal throughout the summer whenever he could find someone to race against it. There were also a couple of men who had a mustang. They had been offered seventy-five dollars for it and just this morning the offer had been upped to a hundred if it came in anywhere near second in this race.

The purse was $100.00. Each animal had to put up $25.00 entrance fee, The Royal Flush Freight Company had promised $25.00 to pay Hank, who was riding our mule. The betting was torrid amongst the spectators. Each animal had their own backers. There were a lot more bets against our mule than for. Pete, Tom, and Harry were circulating throughout the crowd and Berta, and Charley were collecting slips. Everyone knew Sarah so she was holding the money against the slips.

Most of the bets were for 25 cents even, but soon people were asking for odds. Sarah asked me if we should give them and I said I would cover. The course wasn’t anything like you would see at a regulation track. This was our holding pasture. Some of it was rough ground.

The teamsters had gone out and scattered the piles of horseshit enough so the animals wouldn’t stumble over them or have to go around them. There were no fences. You just had to stay outside the flags that marked the course. The track wasn’t round either. There were two flags a hundred yards apart down at the far end.

You had to go around those to head back to the starting point. There was one more flag of note, which was a hundred yards before reaching the finish line. This created a dogleg to escape a rough section that couldn’t be navigated at the speed they would be traveling.

Our mule was an ugly looking beast. He was mouse-colored with brown splotches all over him. His ears and head were different shaped and a little larger, and his snout didn’t have that classic shape that was expected in a horse. He was heavier in the feet and legs with a wider chest, and he was longer in length. He’d be no good in a short race, but if he had the chance to get stretched out, there’d be no stopping him.

Hank and the other men who were going to be up, went at a canter around the course to see what the conditions were. Our mule stood with the other three animals. He looked half asleep while being held by Obie. The gambler’s horse was nervous and pranced around some, being kept calm by the horse handler who was with the gambler. The farmer’s horse was being held by his wife. The mustang had two men holding him. He wasn’t half broken yet. He was a beautiful animal though.

The race course was anywhere in length between one and two thirds miles and two and a quarter depending who estimated it. It actually was the full two and a quarter. Obie had measured it. He was leaving nothing to chance. Finally, it was time and everything was set to go. The start was to be all four animals at a walk were to be kept as near nose to nose as possible and when their noses got to a line drawn in the dirt a gun was fired.

The mustang was a little difficult to line up with the others and the four riders had to try three times to get it right. The gambler’s horse leaped out in front and the farmer’s horse was a close second. The mustang did some crow-hopping until it figured out he should be with the others.

Hank knew his mount and had helped set up the course, he was riding his own race. He was swinging wide to go around the first flag and stayed wide for the second. Our bellies were in our throats because the mule was last at the first flag and way wide. He stayed wide at the second and still last.

It looked as if the mule was rider-less, us looking from a mile away when they went around the first two flags. Hank just didn’t make a very big pile stretched along the neck of the mule. Now the mule was ready and stretched out for the third flag. His position was now in second place, cutting between the gambler’s horse and the flag. Because the mule had stayed wide earlier in the race, he came by the last flag and had a straighter shot to the finish line.

The gambler’s horse was tired. The farmer’s horse never had the speed and the mustang had never been totally under control. The mustang had shown long bursts of speed, and someday with his looks, would make a fine saddle horse. He might even win some races when broke. The race was all over the minute Hank guided the mule on the inside of the dogleg. The mule hadn’t even broken a sweat, whereas the others were lathered up considerably.

The Nigra clapped Hank on the back when he slid off the mule. “Yo, done just right, boy. That almost circle gave that long-bodied mule a chance to stretch out and run, I’se tell you, Mama.”

“Obie, I had to hold him all the way after he went by the second flag.”

“That’s good. You’ll get more horses to race against if you only win by a little bit each time out. This’ll be the last race of the season. We’ll have to not let him get too fat this winter and he’ll be ready go in the spring. He’s still has a good handful of years in him.

Pete came to me suggesting we have a sing-a-long down by the big barn at the freight yard. It would be one to celebrate Charley’s sixteenth birthday. She had ingratiated herself with everyone from the day she arrived. Being a niece to Harry, she was naturally friends of the freighters. Look what she had done for the company by making sure there was always enough charcoal for the smith’s forge. One of the teamsters had a fiddle and the two Mexicans out at the horse pasture played guitars and sang. A bonfire could be built to sit around.