Chapter 10

July 12, 1847

I had been recovering from the shock I received last night when all three of my wives talked about being pregnant. After those statements I was wide-awake. Claire's pregnancy we had expected, but Elizabeth's was not. As for Louise, I spoke to her and found she had missed her last period but didn't know if she was pregnant, as she had been going through so much that her periods where irregular. I told her not to worry about it for another month. She was still upset, afraid that I would toss her out for not telling me about her fears before we wed.

"Any child born of my wives is mine. Nobody better say differently." I told her.

She began crying again and this time I was stumped. I became even more confused when Claire and Elizabeth began crying too.

"Why is everybody crying?" I demanded.

"We love you!" Elizabeth cried.

Now I was really confused. Claire had pity on me again and told me that they were crying because they were happy. Now why a woman would cry because she's happy I don't know. It must be a woman thing, because no man I've ever asked could answer that question for me.

We started hugging each other and, after I kissed all my women good night, I lay down and finally went to sleep.

July 13, 1847

We are crossing the Little Muddy today and should arrive at Fort Bridger sometime tomorrow. The guide has already been there and says he has prepared the blacksmith to re-shoe all the oxen that need it. It will cost a dollar each ox and 2 dollars to re-rim each wheel. The fort has a trading post and the prices are high though not as high as at Fort Laramie. We need to restock the wagon with food for the remainder of the trip as well. Louise needs to buy some new dresses as hers is falling to pieces.

While we are there I am going to see if I can borrow the forge and anvil to make some steel scalpels and a new knife. Finally I can use some of my knowledge of knife making. It will depend on whether the blacksmith has some good iron and some broken glass available.

I can't believe the difference just a few miles can make in the area. For the first time in several days we can see a lot of trees and abundant grass. I can't believe how beautiful this country is compared with the dry tundra we have been going through. I just hope Fort Bridger looks as good.

July 14, 1847

What a disappointment Fort Bridger is! I thought it would be a real fort but instead it's a cobbled together collection of mud daubed wood poles with about twenty-five lodges for the fur traders and their Indian wives. At least there are fresh oxen here and the black smithy is available to re-shoe the oxen and do general ironwork. There is a trading post here with whiskey they are selling to the Indians. I look at them and I am ashamed of what the white man is doing to the Indians. The women are begging because everything they own is gone for drink. The men, if not drunk already, are looking for any means to become so. At least the wagon captain has forbidden any of the people to purchase any whiskey for trading with the Indians so we won't be contributing to this. Claire looked like she wanted nothing so much as to burn the trading post down. The women were warned they are not to go into the fort by themselves in hopes of avoiding trouble with the drunks.

The wagon captain has declared that we will rest for three days while the oxen are re-shod and the blacksmith does any needed repairs. I have arranged to borrow the black smithy when the smith is not using it to make my knife. I have been able to find some glass and enough good iron to make at least one combat knife and several small scalpels. I am going to try to make some locking pliers for forceps, but they are going to be made of plain steel.

I have decided to use the Wootz method of creating the steel. Placing the iron and some charcoal in a clay pot with the broken glass I heated the clay pot in the furnace until it became red hot. Shaking it I repeatedly heated and cooled the mixture for most of a day. I had shaped the iron into a knife blank and several smaller blades with the chisels and the cut-off on the anvil. After reheating the blades until they were verging on yellow I hammered the steel until it was finally shaped. I cooled the steel first in an oil bath and then in warm water. I finished shaping the blades by using the blacksmith's grinding wheel to smooth and put an edge on them. I used a deer horn to make a handle for the knife and hardwood for the scalpels, as well as using iron brads to fasten the handles together.

For the first time I am receiving some respect from the men for a skill I have shown. I have been surprised by the lack of respect that someone who is acting as a doctor receives now. When I asked Claire about how doctors were trained, she said that most were trained in an apprenticeship, but anyone could call himself a doctor without proving anything. She told me about a person who set himself up as a doctor near Philadelphia and had a successful practice until he was exposed as knowing nothing about medicine. No wonder they have no respect, as even those who are trained can do little more than guess about how to treat most of the diseases they see.

We have camped a mile away from the fort and hope this will reduce or eliminate any problems with alcohol. My wives have spoken to me about going to the trading post to pick up needed items but I have told Claire she is not to go. I'm afraid she will cause trouble if she sees whiskey being sold to the Indians. Elizabeth and Louise will be tasked to buy the needed items, but I am going with them to provide protection.

July 15, 1847

The train captain has arrested me. It all started when we went to the trading post at Fort Bridger. Elizabeth and Louise went in and were buying the food we wanted and clothes for Louise while I looked at some tools we needed for the wagon. A rather scruffy looking trapper came in and began to wander around the trading post looking at nothing in particular. He started following the women around and I warned him to leave my wife alone. He began to look at the whiskey and I turned back to look at the tools again. I heard a slap and turned to see him suddenly stick his hand under Elizabeth's dress. She screamed and I ran over as he was trying to pull her dress off.

I hit the trapper at a full run and knocked him down. He swore at me and started to pull a pistol from his belt. I drew my pistol from my holster first and shot him several times before he managed to bring his up. Jim Bridger, the owner of the camp, arrived about then and took charge of the situation. There was a disagreement about what happened so he had several of the men around hold me until the wagon captain arrived. He didn't seem too concerned about my shooting the trapper but there was a lot of noise made when he had the wagon captain take charge of me.

There is to be a trial tomorrow to determine if I was justified or not in shooting him. I learned that some of the single men have been spreading tales about my marriage to my wives. The trapper may have thought they were whores. I have been told there is some bad feeling about the killing in the fort but I don't know how widespread it is. I am under guard and have been relieved of my guns and my knife. Until the trial I am being held in the wagon captain's wagon and can have no contact with my wives.

I'm worried what will happen tomorrow. I feel that I was justified but I have to wait until after the trial to see if the others agree. I have been told that the wagon master will represent me while one of the trappers will be the prosecution. I asked the wagon master to have some of the men go around and find out what kind of reputation the dead trapper had. Apparently no one cares what he was like. The wagon master told me that the only thing that they were interested in was if the trapper was really trying to draw his gun.

I'm going to bed and try to sleep. I know he was drawing his gun when I shot him. I just have to prove it.