TODAY my dad saddled up the horses and took me and Benny and Missy up the mountain to Cody Canyon. He wanted to clear the creek that flows down from the beaver pond into our hayfields. Dad wants to get one more hay crop this fall.
Mum packed us a lunch of bannock, canned salmon, apples, and a Thermos of tea. Dad put the lunch in his saddle bag and tied his shovel to the rifle scabbard behind the saddle.
Dad told me to ride behind the saddle on Baldy with him. Benny and Missy rode Daisy, Mum’s old saddle horse. Maybe Dad wanted to see how Missy would handle Daisy on her own.
We rode behind the barn and straight up the side of the mountain on a steep deer trail through the trees. All we could hear were the horses’ hooves clicking against rocks, the saddles squeaking and a crow cawing at the top of an old dead pine tree. My dad grinned at the crow and said, “Don’t scare the deer.”
When we got to the top of the trail we saw thousands of purply-pink flowers all together in the tall grass along the creek. We stopped and looked at it for awhile because it was so pretty. “Fireweed,” said Dad.
We rode past a bare hillside with millions of wild-flowers and yellow grass, and sagebrush in bloom. When we stopped my dad showed us where to pick raspberries around a big stump near a tiny bubbling brook. In the high mountains the berries get ripe late. Dad told us to eat our lunch if we got hungry. Then he tethered the horses, walked over to the beaver pond and started to shovel the creek where it was blocked by sticks and dirt and rocks.
Missy and I went around to the shady part of the bush to pick the raspberries. They were sweet and warm from the sun. Benny went over to the brook to scoop up water in a little tin cup. Then he sneaked over to Missy and spilled some down her back. She screeched and they both started to laugh and splash each other with water. While they were playing I climbed up on Baldy and pretended to be a trick rider standing on the saddle, then hanging low on one side.
I went back to the brook and we sat watching Dad work. We talked about going back to school, about how much we hate it there. We felt sad because we have to go back next week.
When the shadows were getting long Dad came over and got a drink with Benny’s little cup. Then he took off his cowboy hat and wiped his forehead, looking around at the valley below. He looked tired.
“It’s going to get crowded in the valley in a few years,” he said. “People will be building houses all around the ranch. Ranching won’t pay much anymore. You kids want to get yourselves an education. Get a job. That way you’ll be okay.”
Missy and I looked at each other. How did he know we were talking about school?
By the time we got back it was almost dark and Mum had supper waiting. Dad said we’re going up the mountain to pick huckleberries tomorrow. We’ll pick berries in the afternoon, camp the night, pick berries again in the morning and come home on Saturday. Then we’ll have to pack water so Mum can wash our clothes for school, and Dad will probably buy me and Missy new shoes and sweaters and socks. He’ll buy Benny a shirt, jeans and shoes. He always buys us new clothes when we go back to school. It’s our pay for helping put up the hay.
Benny and Missy are sleeping now and I can hear Mum and Dad talking and laughing in the kitchen. Jimmy is playing the guitar. Dorothy will be coming home from her job on Saturday. I’m writing my journal entry, the last one before I go back to school.
I think I’ll leave the journal at home in the attic inside my dad’s old violin case. If Yay-yah is in the mountains where we go to pick berries, I’ll ask her to make a buckskin cover for it. I’ll ask her to bead fireweed flowers on it.