The scout detachment reached Campbell’s Trading Post at mid-morning after an early start. The hike back through the trees continued to exasperate the men used to wide-open spaces on horseback. And there was the thin air, but this problem was diminishing daily, leaving only small episodes of discomfort.
These moods of irritation were shared by officers and scouts alike, but longings for the Indian and Oklahoma Territories was unexpressed by either group. This was due to the scouts’ collective stoicism and the two white officers not wanting to show any signs of nostalgic weakness. The pair even went out of their way to joke, displaying good moods to give the impression they felt no discomfort or frustration.
When the detachment emerged from the forest onto the meadow of the trading post, the people there were familiar enough with them to wave friendly salutations in their direction. The officers and scouts straightened up and increased their pace, returning the greetings with manly nods of their heads.
Mandy the bread lady was sweeping the dust out of her small cabin as they walked past leading their horses and the mule. She yelled out, “I’ll have some loaves ready by this afternoon. How many d’you want?”
“A dozen should do,” Hawkins answered. “Then another dozen tomorrow.”
“The price is gone up,” Mandy said. “It’s a half-eagle a dozen.”
“That’s too much,” Hawkins replied. “So never mind. I guess we’ll have to go down to Fort Terral and pick up what bread we need.”
“A quarter-eagle like before,” the woman quickly relented.
“It’s a deal.”
Ludlow grinned. “You really wouldn’t make us go all the way to Fort Terral for loaves of bread, would you, sir?”
“Hell no! But she doesn’t know that. And you got to remember that we get to keep any money left over from the railroad fund.”
“That thought stimulates my sense of economy, sir.”
Hawkins and Ludlow led the way over to the trading post. The two officers left the scouts and went inside. Phil Morgan turned around from restocking his shelves when the pair entered. “Howdy, soljer boys. How’d your little trip go?”
“Only so-so,” Hawkins replied. “It doesn’t look like that fellah who was in here before is involved in the attacks on the surveyors. We met a couple of Canadian policeman and they said he was from a prospecting camp. But they weren’t sure of the actual location except it was in Canada.”
“Prospectors ain’t likely to announce where their digs is,” Morgan informed him. “But I reckon it don’t make much differ’nce to you anyhow.”
“It might,” Hawkins said. “I’m not leaving any stone unturned in these current circumstances.”
Ludlow scanned the new merchandise for smoked oysters. He saw there were none and turned to join the conversation. “But there was something about that fellow that didn’t sit right with us.”
Morgan chuckled. “Hell! Why would a bunch of prospectors be worried about trains running through the Gap?”
Hawkins shrugged. “I don’t know. But we’re going to look for ’em anyhow.”
Morgan frowned. “Whoa! You better not do that if they’re in Canada.”
Hawkins frowned back. “I don’t give a good goddam if they’re up at the North Pole. I’m gonna find ’em and check ’em out.”
“I hope you got loads of time,” Morgan advised. “You fellers is in the middle of the mountains. It’s hard to locate folks that might not want to be found.”
“Well, I never said it would be easy,” Hawkins retorted. “What I need is a reliable guide who knows this area.”
“In that case,” Morgan said, “I recommend George Leroux. He’s a Métis and has been hunting and trapping around this part of the Rockies all his life. I figger he can get you closer to them prospectors than anybody else. Fact is, I wouldn’t be surprised if’n he didn’t actual find ’em for you.”
“I’d like to talk to him.”
“Sure. He’s sleeping off a drunk right now, but I’ll get him for you as soon as he sobers up enough to show hisself.”
“Okay,” Hawkins said. “We’re going to camp in the woods on the east side of the meadow. Send him over to see me when you can. By the way, can we stable our horses here while we’re away? The only animal we’re taking is the pack mule since we have to be on foot.”
“That’s a good idea,” Morgan said. “You’ll be walking through some of the steepest, thickest forest in God’s creation. But that ain’t gonna bother a mule. And I can take care of your horses without any problem in the stables out back. I have hay for ’em too, but no oats. I also got a storehouse where you can leave the gear you don’t want to take with you. If you need a padlock, I got some for sale at a quarter-eagle each.” He paused thoughtfully. “It’ll be a half-eagle a day for the care and feeding of the horses.”
Hawkins nodded. “It’s a deal.”
The captain and his command found a comfortable spot to camp a few yards inside a small clearing. The horses and mule were picketed in an area of thick blue grama grass, giving them ample grazing. The humans of the detachment spread out bedrolls, then boiled water for the eternally appreciated coffee. The last of Mandy’s bread was eaten with jam to go with the caffeine-laced brew. A few cans of fruit were also opened and shared among the scouts.
Ludlow noticed the dwindling supply of store-bought food. “It looks like we’d better make some more purchases before we leave tomorrow.”
Hawkins shook his head. “Don’t forget we’re gonna be on foot, Mr. Dooley. Whatever you want to take with you, will be loaded on your back. It’s not a good idea to get too weighed down. Although we can pack a few extra things on the mule, we’ll end up living on salt pork and hardtack if we’re out there for very long.”
“Your advice is well thought-out and will be implemented, sir.”
“You are indeed an intelligent young man.”
Ludlow grinned. “There’s a couple of instructors at West Point that might take issue with that statement.”
“Now why doesn’t that surprise me?” Hawkins said with a wink. “Anyhow, if I deem it safe enough we might be able to shoot some squirrels or possums. The way things are working out, I’m gonna have to revise my ‘no hunting’ order.”
“I’ll put my medical kit in the mule pack.”
“Good idea. That item just might come in handy.”
After snacking, everyone turned to sorting out what they wanted to take with them. This campaign could very easily evolve into long rides on shank’s mare along with mountain fighting. Hawkins allowed everyone to make their own choice of what to bring. For the Indians, this included their medicine pouches to ward off bad luck. Among the officers’ choices was the ammunition for their pistols, soap and toothbrushes and tooth powder. Ludlow also added his medical instruction booklet. Everyone had included a couple of woolen shirts and trousers rolled up as small as possible. The one mandatory item for everyone was a cleaning kit for weaponry.
When that was all taken care of to everyone’s personal satisfaction, the fatigued officers and scouts relaxed on their bedrolls for a period of recovery and rest.
The afternoon sun had begun its descent when a bandy-legged, husky man dressed in buckskin and carrying a Winchester carbine walked into the camp. He was obviously of mixed-race, and the Indian part of his ancestry was apparent by his lack of facial hair.
“I look for Capitaine Hawkins,” the man announced in a heavy French accent.
“That’s me. Are you the guide Morgan told us about?”
“C’est moi. My name is George Leroux. What place where you want to be led to?”
Hawkins quickly explained the situation, emphasizing his desire to find where the prospector and his friends were located.
Leroux squatted down and was thoughtful for a moment. “I do not know about that.”
“What don’t you know about that?” Hawkins asked, irritated at the man’s battered version of the English language.
“What I mean is that I do not know where them prospectors be. Especial if they in Canada. I go up there now and again. That’s big damn country, Capitaine.”
Ludlow interjected, “They aren’t too far into Canada. After all, he did walk into the trading post with a donkey and went back the same way. And some Canadian policemen we met mentioned a town called Deer Creek.”
Leroux guffawed. “He sure never walk here from Deer Creek. That town is long distance away. Far north from here.”
“Then we can forget Deer Creek,” Hawkins stated. “What we need is somebody who has roamed all over these mountains to help us locate where a group of prospectors are evidently mining or panning gold.”
“Très bien, Capitaine. I take the job, but I cannot guarantee nothing.”
“Have you scouted for the Army before?”
“Several times, I reckon.”
“I’m authorized to sign a pay voucher for you,” Hawkins said. “I don’t know what the going rate is.”
“No worry ’bout that. I know what it is.”
Ludlow had another slant on the mission. “If we run into the gang that’s been firing on the surveyors, it could get dangerous.”
Leroux held up his carbine. “This here Winchester got fifteen bullets. And I got me a whole lot of ammunition and the cartridge belts to carry it.” He stood up. “I got some things to do. I be over here early of the morning tomorrow to join up with you.”
Leroux walked out of the woods, crossing the meadow to the trading post. Ludlow watched him a for a moment. “I hope he stays sober tonight.”
“Not to worry, Mr. Dooley. If he ends up drunk and hung-over, we can take care of that problem by flinging him into the icy waters of a mountain creek.”