Yiska moaned as he awoke to the damp nudge of Shadow’s nose against his face. The horse’s reins dangled on the ground. As his vision cleared, he realized he’d fallen from the narrow ridge above. How his horse found his way down and across the wide ledge he didn’t question—Shadow’s instincts were far better than his own.
Yiska pulled himself up and looked down over the ledge. His rifle lay broken on the boulders below. He felt his hip for his side arm and was glad it was still there. He rubbed his sides and let out a slow exhale. His ribs were still intact. Except for some aches and bruises, he was all right. He sat up and grabbed his canteen from the pack behind his saddle, took a swig, and splashed a bit on his face.
Yiska made his way back up the ridge, Shadow in tow. There lay the lifeless four-hundred-pound bear. He took off his coat and shirt and laid them on a rock. He tossed his hat there with them and wrapped a headband around his brow to keep his hair out of his face. He’d salvage the bear skin and whatever meat he could take with him. Nature would dispose of the refuse, but he’d have to work fast before the scent of blood drew the attention of wildcats or coyotes. He kneeled over the animal, preparing to cut away its thick coat.
Click.
Yiska looked up, sun glinting in his eyes. The barrel of a shotgun stared him in the face.
“I hope you intend to share that with me, Injun.” A weather-beaten man in fringed buckskins and a wide-brimmed hat glared at him.
Yiska eyed him carefully. He kept his voice calm. “Put that gun away, and I’ll give you what you want. There’s plenty here, but I could use a hand.”
The heavily bearded man lowered his shotgun. “My name’s Bouclier—they call me Buck.”
“Yiska Wilcox.”
“You Whiley’s scout?”
“I am.”
Buck eyed the bear. “Looks like ya got yerself a good-sized brownie.”
“She almost got me,” Yiska said. “I’ll take as much as I can, and you can have the rest.”
“What are you planning to do with the fur?” the man asked.
Yiska stood. “I might trade it up at Rose’s Cabin.”
The mountaineer hoisted his shotgun back over his shoulder. “I could take it off yer hands…for a fair trade.” The man pointed his chin toward his horse and a fully loaded pack mule.
Yiska swatted a fly away from his face. “Lost my rifle over the edge of that ridge.”
“Good then. Let’s get to work on that beast.”
The task complete, Yiska washed the thick, red blood from his arms and chest while Shadow drank from the stream. He cleaned his hatchet and knife and dried them with a bandanna. He strapped huge portions of meat wrapped in oilcloth behind his saddle and helped tie the bear skin to the trader’s mule.
“Headin’ to Corydon Rose’s place, on my way to Ourey,” Buck said.
“That’s where I’m going, too.”
Buck nodded. “Well then, it looks like you’ve got yourself a travel companion.”
So be it.
The men descended the incline and rode on until after sunset, when they decided to stop for the night. Yiska made a fire, and they cooked a supper of fresh bear meat and canned beans. As the temperature dropped, they retreated to the lean-to they’d put up.
Under pine bough shelter, Yiska reclined against his saddle with his Navajo blanket as his cover and new rifle at his side. The howl of coyotes echoed in the distance as he thanked the Christian God that He had heard his call for help today.
Eliana, now dressed as the young man Eli, hummed as she sat on the bench next to Papa. He drove their wagon along the dirt toll road toward Eureka—one of several assignments they had contracted in photographing the mining towns throughout the San Juans. Their white mule, Sampson, pulled a box-covered wagon with VAN HORN PHOTOGRAPHY painted on its sides. It housed a darkroom and temporary shelter for the pair.
“Did you hear Mr. Whiley at the hymn sing? He is quite a talented baritone,” Eliana said.
“He carried quite a tune, I’ll give him that. He actually knew some of those hymns,” Papa said.
“He and Maria harmonized very well together.” Eliana smiled at the thought of the unlikely couple.
Papa tugged on the reins and held his head high. “What I really enjoyed was the sound of my lovely daughter’s voice.”
Eliana smiled. “I do love to sing, and it was wonderful to hear all those people gathered together to worship. I’m glad we’ll have a church in Lake City next year.”
Papa gave a light snap of the whip. “Come on, Sampson, giddyup. At this rate, it will take us until next week to get to Eureka.”
“Mr. Whiley seems quite smitten with Maria,” Eliana said. “You never know, they might be the first couple to get married in that new church.”
“Trask Whiley married. I’ve heard stranger things,” Papa said.
At last they came to the hill that overlooked the mining town, and Papa pulled the wagon to a stop. Plats of stick houses and log cabins were set in rows near the Sunny Side Mine, built stair-stepped up the mountainside. “This is a good view,” he said. “We’ll set up here. Then we can go down into the town and get pictures there.”
Eliana hopped down from the wagon, tucked her shirt into her trousers, adjusted her suspenders, and checked the buttons of her extra-large vest. She tucked some stray hairs back under her hat. Her shoulder-length hair was tied back with a piece of rawhide. No one could see her here, but it was better to be safe.
Eliana and Papa unloaded their equipment. They set up a stereo camera, which would use wet-glass plates to create stereographs. They’d decided, however, that when they were on the Robbins expedition they’d only use the dry process method. That way there would be no need to develop the pictures in the field, as they would bring the plates home for processing. Nor would they have to worry about glass breaking. Nevertheless, Papa still planned to bring a small, collapsible darkroom, since they would be leaving the wagon behind.
Eliana adjusted the lens of her camera and turned to Papa. “What made you change your mind about Yiska?”
“It troubled me when I learned he knew about your disguise,” Papa said. “I thought his knowing would jeopardize your secret.”
Eliana flattened her lips and listened.
“I’ve been able to get to know Yiska better since then, Sunshine. I would trust him with my life…and yours. In fact, it will probably be good that he does know—he may be able to help protect you.” Papa brushed his hand over his beard. “But I will warn him to keep a proper distance from you.”
Eliana sighed. She supposed Papa was right, but how she longed to spend time with Yiska. If only someone could get word to him in time about the opportunity to work with the Robbins survey. Heavenly Father, in Your way, would You please see to it that Yiska will find out? You know, above all, what this will mean to him.
Men gathered around Yiska and Buck as the trader displayed the bear fur outside Rose’s Cabin. Buck hoped to impress the men enough for someone to make a trade. “It’s a beauty, ain’t it? I traded it with an Injun. Came upon him while he was dressing it and offered to help. Three brown bears had attacked him. Scared two of ’em off, but he shot this one dead, right before it plowed him off a cliff.” Buck looked up at Yiska. “At least that’s what Yiska tells me. He’s the one who shot it!”
The men eyed Yiska up and down.
“What do you say? Can anyone offer me a fair trade or a nugget of gold?” Buck asked.
A man sidled up to Yiska. “Is that story true, young man?”
“More or less,” Yiska said.
“Well then, it’s a good thing I was praying for you. You nearly lost your life.”
Hands in his pockets, Yiska leaned his weight back on one leg and narrowed his eyes. “Beg your pardon?”
“You heard right. Your name’s Yiska, is that right? Yiska Wilcox?” the man asked. “I’ve been waiting for you. I have a message from Trask Whiley.”
Yiska stared at him. “Do you need a guide?”
“No, but I could use a traveling companion on my way down to Silverton. My name’s George Darley.”
The men walked away from the group and stopped to talk under some trees. Yiska took off his hat and brushed the hair from his face. “What’s this message from Whiley?”
“He wants you to go on the Chandler Robbins survey. He said you know the details.”
Yiska broke into a grin. “Thank you. That’s good news.”
“There’s more,” Darley said.
Yiska cocked his head. “What’s that?”
“Mr. Wilson from the San Juan Prospector wants to hire you to be a correspondent during the expedition. Mr. Whiley was in full support. Mr. Van Horn thought it was a good idea as well. They both were concerned that you get the good news in time, in case you missed Van Horn in Silverton.” Darley smiled. “There was also a pretty young lady there who was hoping very much that I’d meet up with you.”
Eliana. Yiska shook the man’s hand. “Thank you, Mr. Darley.”
“My pleasure.” Darley smiled. “They gave me the message, and I’ve been praying for you ever since.”
Yiska blinked. “Praying, you say. I’ve been doing a little of that myself.”
“By the looks of that bear skin, I’d say you’d be crazy not to.”