Chapter Sixteen

FORT LARAMIE

THE LAND NOW ROSE IN rolling plains and hills. To the south, dark, mysterious-looking mountains wiggled in the heat on the far horizon, looking like mystical mirages.

As they got closer to Fort Laramie, the Indians they encountered were Arapaho, Ute, Cheyenne, and Sioux. Most of these would probably be represented at the fort.

The Sioux, a large nation, wandered over most of the plains, and they would be at the fort, also. These Indians saw many of the other tribes as their enemies, but, in the past, some of them had occasionally joined forces to fight the white settlers. The Blackfeet had always considered the Sioux their arch enemy, and the Sioux once announced they planned to wipe out all the Pawnee to the east.

Jacob thought the Indians would have had a better chance of standing against the settlers’ invasion if the different tribes would band together. However, if that had happened, he probably wouldn’t be traveling west now. Although the Indians were always a threat to the emigrants, things were not as volatile as they’d been over the previous decade. More Indians were trading with the white man rather than fighting them now.

Most of the travelers wanted to get to a place where they could buy some provisions. Jacob knew he and Faith could use a few things too, but they could make it a while longer without restocking if they had to.

Fort Laramie sat amid rolling hills and the slow-flowing Laramie River, which the wagons would need to cross to get to the fort. A tributary of the North Platte, its crystal green waters reflected the sun’s rays like flashing jewels.

Indians camped outside the gates of the fort. They were everywhere. Obadiah said so many of them set up their teepees there because the fort limited their presence inside. Over five hundred lodges of Sioux were also camped out on the river, more than a mile away.

Fort Laramie had not been established as a military post, but it had been the first of the fur trading centers on the trail to be converted to one. This had happened just last year, as the California gold rush swelled. Marshall said the fort had started as a log cabin in 1841.

It now appeared as a squat, white fortress built around a square. The trading rooms were on one side and the living quarters on another. Debris seemed to be scattered about most of the area—some of it apparently discarded from passing wagons. With the mountains waiting ahead, Jacob could understand why.

The wagons set up camp back from the fort, and the people walked in. The place teemed with activity, and this group would just add to it.

“It’s more crowded than I expected,” Faith said. “These are the most Indians I’ve ever seen.”

They found a mass of people inside the fort, too. A few old mountain men sat back and watched the others or tried to bargain in trade. Pretty Cheyenne and Sioux girls with sleek black hair, calico dresses, moccasins on their feet, and plenty of jewelry, walked close to their white men patrons and silently stared at everything. A few men in suits stood in stark contrast to the rugged mountain men, staggering drunks, or blue-clad soldiers. Clerks stood behind the counters helping customers, and even some of them had Indian wives.

Jacob and Faith stared at it all. It seemed a lot to take in and “a sight to behold,” as he heard Lena say.

Besides the trading center, the fort also housed a dry goods store, blacksmith, and cobbler. Jacob noticed the stains on the walls and floors near spittoons, where men’s aims had been off the mark.

Prices were exorbitant. Jacob decided he would limit his spending, but he might get a few things. The prices would probably be even worse at the forts farther west.

“We have to transport everything we sell,” one shopkeeper told them. “It takes a lot to get them here. That’s why the prices are high.”

Jacob and Faith decided to just look around today. They were planning to stay one more day in the hopes the wagons they’d left behind with the sick families might catch up. They could come back tomorrow to buy a few things.

As they started back to their wagon, Jacob noticed Iris on the arm of a lieutenant. Good. Maybe she’d leave him alone for a while or, even better, stay here. When he noticed how the officer treated her, however, he decided the man probably didn’t plan to marry her.

Jacob decided to throw out some more of their things as others had done and consolidate everything into one wagon. Faith’s wagon wouldn’t make it much farther. It had grown more rickety with each mile, and he didn’t want it to break down on the trail, especially in the mountains. It might even create a dangerous situation for Faith. Besides, when they did this, Faith could walk along beside him, and they could talk.

The more he got to know his wife, the more she intrigued him. Considering what Lena had told them, it was a wonder she had as many social skills as she did. Perhaps her early days with her parents had started the foundation and gave her some self-confidence. She seemed naturally out-going, but she tended to be shy at times, which probably stemmed from her environment in Kentucky.

Faith had a better education than most women, although she hadn’t received a day of schooling after she’d moved in with her aunt and uncle. She especially knew the Bible and Shakespeare. He had a couple of the classics stored in the bottom of his trunk he hoped to share with her over the winter. There wouldn’t be time to read during this trip. Perhaps he could give them to her for Christmas. He knew she’d be delighted.

She was smart, too. When she picked up new information, she remembered it—another reason to have her with him more. Being together would break the monotony, and the days would be less boring for them both.

Since the fort had begun to run low on some items, especially those needed in California, Jacob decided to trade some of their things, either inside the fort or with some of the men around the place. They had duplicates of many of the tools, and more than two of some of them. Since weight would be a problem as they climbed the mountain trails, Jacob thought it might be wise to dispose of any unnecessary items while he could get something for them. It would be better than leaving them beside the trail.

They walked to the fort, carrying armloads of tools when a grubby looking man approached them. “Ya don’t happen to have a tent, do ya?”

“We do,” Jacob said, “but we’ve been using it.”

“Wouldja be willin’ to let it go? I got me a hankerin’ to go to Californy, and the fort’s all outa tents, though I got the other thangs I needed.”

“I might. What are you offering?”

“I ain’t got no money or nothin’. I git paid more fer my furs iffin I take it in trade at the fort, but my squaw’s got some real nice buckskin jackets, moccasins, baby boards, and sech.”

“I’ve used my tent most of the way here.”

“Makes no never mind to me, as long as it don’t leak none.”

“Let us take these tools to the fort, and we’ll meet you back here, say in about thirty minutes. You can take a look at the tent. If you want to bring a leather jacket and some moccasins that would fit Faith and some leather gloves for both of us that would make things go faster.”

“I’ll do that very thang.” He nodded his head.

They did manage to trade their tools for a bag of flour, sugar, and some potatoes. Considering how much the supplies cost, Jacob was pleased.

“Anything else you need?” he asked Faith.

“No, I have everything I need,” she smiled in a way that made him think the statement had a double meaning, and he smiled, too.

“I brung a boy’s size jacket fer the little lady,” their new friend said as they walked back to camp together. “Hits goin’ to be cold in them mountains, so I thank ya have a good idee here. I brung two pairs of leather gloves fer y’all. Figgered ya could make good use of them, too.”

They made the trade quickly, and Jacob helped him take down and fold the tent. The jacket looked similar to the one he’d gotten in Missouri, except for the size. They both were made with leather and had fringe across the front and back.

“I used to wear a jacket styled like a man’s when I went out hunting,” Faith said. “I made it, but it wore out, and I didn’t have it to bring. I do have Lucille’s wool cloak, though.”

“I’m thinking you may need to wear them both.”

“In July?”

“We’ll be seeing snow on the mountains soon enough. You hunted in Kentucky?”

“I did. Uncle Jed went with me most of the time, but I could shoot better than he could. On the last, he let me go alone and said he felt too poorly to get out in the cold.”

The moccasins for Faith were soft and well-made. She’d already thrown away the shoes she’d brought. The uppers were even too far gone to resole them. She’d been wearing Lucille’s, but the soles of them were falling apart. Jacob had left them at the cobbler’s, but they didn’t fit Faith well, and he thought the moccasins were a good idea.

He and Faith took boards from the old wagon and attached them near the top of Jacob’s wagon bed. In that way, they made a platform, where they could make a sleeping pallet. They were lucky enough to find a recently discarded feather mattress still in good shape, and they lay it beside their wagon to let the side that had been down sun and air out. Now, they could store things throughout the wagon bed, under the platform, and still have a bed for the two of them.

He also took the cover from the old wagon. Although it had been well patched, Jacob thought it might come in handy for something.

Like most of the wagons, they used every bit of wagon space. Things were suspended all over the wagon, inside and out, but they were traveling light next to most of the emigrants.

They decided to walk around the fort one more time before they left. Even with the crowds milling about making it hard to walk at times, it gave them something different to do.

Some of the men were getting together a shooting contest and had gathered some items to use as targets. A small group stood practicing before the match started, but Jacob decided they were probably novices. The veteran marksmen seemed to be standing around waiting for the action to begin. They watched the practice for a while.

“I can outshoot any of them,” Faith whispered.

Jacob thought he probably could, too. “Why don’t we enter,” he said. “Even if we don’t win, it should be fun.”

“But it costs a whole dollar for each entry.”

“We’ve got the money. Since we traded for what we got here, we can afford two dollars for an hour or so of fun.”

“You don’t mind me entering? I’ll be the only woman.”

“Not as long as I’m with you.”

They asked at registration if they had time to walk back and get their rifles. They did, so they paid their fee.

“With this wagon train being in,” the man said, “it’s going to be a big pot. We already got more than fifty entries. Organizers will get ten dollars, and the rest will go to the winner.”

Jacob collected his rifle, and Faith got her Uncle Jed’s. The gun she pulled out was ancient, but, if she could shoot with it, that’s all that counted.

“My old one’s not firing right,” she told him. “This one’s better.”

In the first round, each shooter had to shoot a tin can as near to the center as possible. The fort saved all cans for just such a purpose. There must have been about sixty-five men and one woman starting off.

Each man picked up his can and held it to determine the best shots at the end of the round. They chose the twenty top shots.

The men looked stunned when Faith stepped up to shoot. Some of them began to heckle her.

“Don’t you never mind, little lady,” one of the old mountain men told her. “You just show them what you can do and hush them up.”

Jacob didn’t think most men thought Faith would even hit the can, but she did. When she brought her can up, the hole sat dead center. She really could shoot.

Knowing how well Faith had done, Jacob took special pains with his aim. He would be okay with Faith outshooting him, but he surely didn’t want to go out in the first round. Both of them made the top twenty. As near as he could tell, no one had done better than Faith, although some might have tied her.

For the next round, they were to shoot the top off a glass bottle, as near to the lip as possible and still not have any lip left on it. After this round, there would be only ten left in the match.

No one teased Faith when she stepped up to shoot this time. At the end of the round, Faith still remained in the contest, but Jacob didn’t. He’d shot the top off his bottle, but it had been too far down the bottle to make the cut.

“Win it all for us,” he told Faith. “I’m proud of you.”

“The mountain men here can sure shoot,” she replied.

“So can you, sweetheart. Do you want to use my rifle now? It seems to be a better gun.”

“No, but thanks for offering. I’m used to firing this one, so I’ll stick with what I know.”

For the next set, ten rocks were laid out on a board. The small rocks were nearly the same size, but to have no arguments about it, the contestants drew numbers out of a hat to determine their shooting order. Each one could determine which rock they wanted to shoot.

Jacob didn’t understand this one since they wouldn’t be able to tell who hit their rock nearest the center. When he saw men pick up the crates and board that held the stones and move them into the distance, however, he knew. It didn’t matter, because the feat would be to hit a rock at all. Jacob could barely see one.

Faith drew number three. She stood steady as she pointed her barrel, although the old rifle had to be heavy for someone her size. She had no trouble shooting her rock. By now, some of the men, including the old mountaineer who had championed her, were cheering after her shots. Jacob clapped the loudest. He looked at her in awe. At the end of the round, only four shooters had hit a rock.

“This will be the last round,” a man announced. “We have a piece of wood attached to a rope. The rope will be swung from the same position and the person who shoots the piece of wood closest to the center will win. In case of a tie, we will continue until we have a winner.”

The rope with the wood attached suspended from an inverted L-shaped pole that looked like something used for a hangman’s noose. The wood would be brought back against the pole and released. A shooter could only shoot on the swing back. This gave the man who started the pendulum time to get out of the way and prevented a shooter from waiting until the swing slowed.

“I’m used to shooting a moving target, like squirrels,” Faith whispered to Jacob. He smiled. It looked to him as if she could hit anything.

“Ladies first,” the old mountaineer hollered, and the crowd of watchers agreed. Jacob didn’t know if it would be better or worse to go first. It turned out to be better.

Faith stood ready. The man released the wood and rushed out of the way. Jacob held his breath. Faith shot as soon as it started its second swing, and the wood fell from the swing. Most of the people looked puzzled.

The man who started the pendulum walked over to the wood and looked up. He smiled and pointed to the rope. “She’s shot the thing right in the center, where I tied the rope around the wood. I don’t guess you can get much more in the middle than that.”

Cheers broke out everywhere, and Jacob picked Faith up and swung her around. She had set a very high standard for the others. They couldn’t beat her, only tie her.

It took about ten minutes to hang another piece in the exact same position. They had several pieces of wood the same size ready if needed.

They didn’t need a new piece after the second shooter. He seemed nervous and missed the entire piece of wood.

The third marksman hit very near the center, but he didn’t hit the rope at dead center. The fourth man barely hit the end of the wood.

The official declared Faith the winner. Many of the people stood around shaking their heads. It was hard for Jacob to believe, too. His wife continued to surprise him.

“Honey, I’m so proud of you I could bust,” Lena said and hugged her.

“I didn’t know you were here,” Faith said.

“I hadn’t planned to be, but news spread through the wagons fast that you were going to be shooting, so most of us came out. You did us folks from Kentucky proud.”

“I sort of figured you to be a mountain gal,” the old mountain man said. He’d been standing to one side waiting to congratulate Faith. “People who hunt in the mountains learn to shoot in any conditions. Why, I’ve seen a mountaineer hit their prey with so much fog you couldn’t see a tree at ten feet.”

“We didn’t have powder or balls to spare, either,” Faith said. “I was taught not to waste them.”

“Well, that’s the best shootin’ I’ve seen in a long time. I’m right glad I didn’t enter this time, although I’d have counted it worth a dollar to see this. I don’t expect too many of the other riflemen will be over to congratulate you, ’cause you really showed them up. Did you notice we didn’t have a single soldier in the last round? Are you folks headed to Oregon?”

“We are,” Jacob said. “I’m planning to farm there.”

“Well, I’d say you’ve got yourself a right handy helpmate here.”

“Indeed I do, and she can cook just as well as she can shoot.”

“You don’t say. I don’t know why all the best ones are already taken when I meet ’em. I sure wish you folks the best.”

“You too, mister.” Jacob shook the man’s hand.

“Well, we made money on this stop,” Jacob said while smiling at Faith as they started for their wagon. “We traded for all our purchases, and you made fifty-seven dollars.”

“You’re crazy to let your wife take part in a shooting contest, Parker,” Rex said as he passed them. “What were you thinking?”

“That she’s talented.”

“There you are, Jakey.” Iris seemed to be headed for the fort. “Wasn’t it nice of you to let Faith win the match. I hope she’s going to share her winnings with you.”

“I shot my best today. Faith won all on her own.”

“And the winnings will go for things we need on the trail or in Oregon,” Faith added. “Jacob and I keep our funds together.”

“Well, at least you have some funds to keep,” she muttered as she continued on her way.

“I think she may have just given us a hint of what’s she about,” Jacob said. “I think she’s looking for a man with money.”

He’d told Faith about the extra cash, and he’d showed her where he had hidden it. They’d better also find a good hiding place for this fifty-seven dollars. Most of the people now knew they had it.

 

All but one of the wagons left behind due to sickness pulled in at dusk. They had lost three people, the parents in one wagon, and a son in another. The surviving parents had taken in the three children of the dead parents. They’d buried the dead in unmarked graves due to the Indians, taken three more days for some of the sick to start recovering, and started out. They’d made better time than the larger train, and even traveled on Sunday, but here they were. They said they’d be ready to pull out in the morning.