Chapter 32: The Journey

By the time that they reached the site of the trading post they had fallen into the traveling routine. There were a few sore heads and one bandage, but it was about ready to come off. They had gotten past the point of stupid mistakes and it was now second nature to speak English and everybody had gotten used to calling each other by their white names. Tom still occasionally rubbed the bump on his own head. It was a surprise when he screwed up and presented his head to John to do the honors. They all watched and they knew that there were no favors given when John laid him out cold, and tossed him on the back of the wagon.

The ones that had a lump of their own learned that Tom was a man of his word and that he expected as much of himself as he did others. It gave them a since of pride to follow him, especially since none of them had been knocked senseless. They wondered how he would treat John.

They were surprised when he sat up on the back of the wagon, as it bounced along, then lightly jumped onto his horse and rode up beside John and began to talk. It was like nothing happened and it made a few of them complaining about their own lumps feel petty. It effectively stopped the complaints by showing them what he expected of them.

The trading post was well on the way to being finished. Tom examined the smithy and saw the joy of the workers as they had their own place. He knew that they would probably never return to the valley, but he doubted that they would leave the trading post either.

Black Otter was directing his work like a War Chief in a battle. Every worker was always busy. It didn't matter if he was dressed like a white man or a warrior, he was just a worker and Black Otter showed no favorites. Straight Arrow was always at his side. They would point and whisper and nod to each other. Tom smiled at the way they worked and knew that Straight Arrow would settle for nothing less than what he wanted.

"Straight Arrow, I don't think that I ever asked what your name was. What should we be calling you now?" He saw Straight Arrow actually blush and look around before he quietly replied, "Ah, well, it's Burtrum Huggins."

Tom was a little surprised as most white men got their name from the bible, and something like this was never expected. "So I can assume that people will be calling you Burt?"

Burt smiled and nodded, "If they want to keep breathing. I don't think that I would have killed my parents for naming me this, but I sure would have taken a stick to them." Tom smiled at him and nodded his head. "I really can't complain too much, but I can see where you might have had a few problems as a young man." Burt had a hard look on his face as he nodded.

Tom remembered Pursy Stotch from the wagon train. He was a frail boy and remembered the grief that he received from the other children. Tom even remembered the other men teasing his father about naming a boy Pursy. His father wasn't very big either and his backbone was a little soft. His wife on the other hand was treated with the utmost respect, once she laid a cast iron skillet across a man's head for some trivial comment. She had made it very clear who wore the pants in that wagon, and that they had better treat her with the respect that she deserved.

Tom still remembered when he left the village. She had hugged him tightly and cried on his shoulder. Then she quietly dropped her head and went quietly back to tending to her three new children. She lived in the lodge of a warrior named Quiet Bear. They made a good match; they were both very quiet now. When she had arrived at the village she was still in shock, but once that wore off she loud and vicious. He remembered that it had taken about two weeks before she broke. She was never the same after that. She was treated well by Quiet Bear and she had her children. He wasn't sure if she was truly happy, but she was very content with her life now.

Tom shook himself as he looked around. "So many people, and so many changes." He nodded to Burt and they walked to the wagon. He opened the box that he had loaded. Burt looked at the gold and silver coins and all of the paper money and actually gulped at what he was seeing. "What am I supposed to do with all of that?"

Tom laughed and closed the box, "That is what you will be using to buy supplies and things that you will need to run the trading post. As I told you, we aren't trying to get rich, but we should make enough to buy more stock. But, when times are hard we will have to work on credit. You will need to be able to keep going until they can pay back what they owe. This isn't charity, and we will expect the people to pay us in either trades or money. It will allow them to keep their heads up and still see them through the hard times. The ones that cheat us, won't be getting any more help and if we can find them they will get a lot more than that. We can't appear soft, but we don't want to hurt our own people."

Burt nodded that he understood. Tom lifted the box from the wagon and gave it to Burt. "You and Black Otter make sure that you have a good safe place to keep this stored. And while you are at it, make sure that you have a secret way out of the trading post, just in case you are attacked and penned in. I don't want to lose anybody. We can hunt down any body that attacks us, as long as we are still alive. I want you to make sure that you keep my people alive. Any thieves I want hung from the trees, and make sure that people know what they were hung for. Fear will give the casual thief something to think about and the bully will know what his chances are. That will only leave the desperate ones. Take every advantage that you can get."

Burt solemnly nodded, "I understand. I won't fail you Fighting Hawk." Tom's pistol was out in a flash and Burt had a lump forming on the side of his head. H rubbed it with a frown on his face Tom said, "That was a warning. My name is Tom, and anybody dressed as a white man you will use their white name, when they are dressed like and Indian you will call them by their Indian name. Don't ever make a mistake like that again. Mistakes like that are what will get people killed. If you do it all the time you will never make a mistake. Now we are alone, but one mistake with somebody listening and you never know. And as long as you are dressed like a white man, you should only respond to your white name." Burt nodded that he understood. He still felt a little resentful, but he was sure that would be one mistake that he would never make again.

Tom set up camp beside the trading post and told his men to lend a hand in the building, but to remember the rules if they didn't want a few more lumps. There were a few grins, but mostly it was just grim determination.

Over the next couple of weeks Tom watched as the trading post was finished and some small houses were built around the trading post. Burt had a room in the trading post, but the others had their own house. Even the blacksmiths had a house.

Well back in the woods there were lodges that the Cheyenne warriors would use while they lived there. When others took their place they would live in the same lodges. There was quite a serious group of warriors available to protect the trading post, and keep it supplied. Tom had made certain that the trading post was built on the land deeded to him. That would keep others from trying to take what they had built.

A week later the first supply train came through. Tom watched as Burt went to work getting supplies to get the trading post up and running. He bought as much stock as the traders were willing to sell. He understood that they still had a lot more places to visit, but they would be prepared the next time they went through.

Tom talked to the major trader in the group and asked if they could travel with them. There was a lot of suspicion from the group, but since Burt said that they were just traveling through and had not caused any harm, they agreed. In some ways they were even happy about it, as it gave them more guns to protect the supply train.

The next morning the group moved out. Tom talked to each of the traders to get to know them and see what they had to trade. He thought that it might be better if they had a few things to trade so they didn't stick out as odd.

He noticed that there was one trader that kept watching him. He wasn't sure why, but once he thought about it he was sure that he had met the young man some place. He worried that it was at the fort, which was the next stop, and hoped that the young man wasn't watching him because he recognized him as Fighting Hawk. That would make for a very difficult situation. He would have to spend some time trying to figure out just where he had seen the young man before they got to La Junta.

Try as he might he couldn't place the young man. He decided that it would be better if he came down with an illness. Sick people were pretty much left alone. Nobody wanted to get sick, if it could be avoided. Sometimes even simple sickness would lead to death.

While the traders worked their own brand of magic at the fort, Tom stayed in the wagon with the canvas tarp over him. He avoided everybody from the trading caravan and the fort. John and Ben were on hand to make sure that he had his privacy. It was a long two days, and the morning of the third day found everybody packed up and ready to move at first light. Tom stayed in the wagon during the whole day, as he didn't want the others to think that he had been hiding. It might cause speculation among the traders.

The next day Tom spent his time in the wagon box and helped drive the wagon. It was the best way to appear he was regaining his strength. The following day Tom split his time between the wagon box in the morning and he rode his horse in the afternoon. He knew that he would make a full recovery on the next day.

With the sun the caravan started off toward their next stop. Every ten to fourteen days found another trading post or fort along the Santa Fe Trail. Tom watched as each time the caravan pulled in, it resembled market day for the sharecroppers back in Virginia. He remembered the way they sold their goods in the market after the crop division. He realized even then that it was impossible to get good prices when everybody was selling the same things.

He remembered the year that Mr. Rogers had planted squash, lima beans, carrots and cucumbers. He had been the laughing stock of the county, with everybody planting corn, green beans and peas. He still smiled at the astounded looks in their eyes when Mr. Rogers sold his lima beans for three times what their corn was selling for. The squash and carrots sold for even more. However, even he had to admit that the cucumbers didn't go over as well as Mr. Rogers had hoped. Well they didn't until he filled a large barrel with vinegar and brine and dumped the cucumbers in. He still made a killing a few months later selling pickles and pickle relish. He still remembered Mr. Roger's advice about the whole thing, "Tom, just because people aren't interested in what you have to sell, doesn't mean that you can't sell it. It just means that you have to make it into something that they do want."

They sold at each trading post what they bought at the last, and anything that didn't sell they held for the next one, with the assurance that in Independence they would sell everything that they had left. Tom didn't doubt it. He remembered the way it was when they had come through Independence. As he watched the goings on his eyes were drawn once again to the young man who was watching him intently. A frown creased his face as he once again wondered where he had met the young man.

It was three days later that he approached the young man. "How did the trading go for you?" The young man glanced quickly at him before returned his eyes to the team and the trail.

"Not too bad. I am working in salt, powder and shot. They are always stable and you can guarantee that you will never be at a loss." Tom nodded his head in understanding. The young trader wasn't like the others, they loved to talk and took every opportunity to tell him about every deal they had worked on the trail.