[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Creek, Cherokee, Shawnee, and several others hunted there. I was known to the
Cherokee, and the Sacketts were known to them all, I suspected, but I'd be
taking a great chance. Still, it was early in the season and hunting parties
would not be out in any number.
On the lower Big Sandy there were some fine farms, and a body might even get
a horse, or if not that, a canoe. I could make my way up the Levisa Fork into
Kentucky, cut across the toe of Virginia, and be right back in my own
mountains in no time.
There were Sacketts on the Clinch River, a bunch of rowdy boys but good folks
and cousins of ours. If Timothy Oats followed me into Clinch Mountain country,
one of those big Sacketts was liable to bounce him up and down all the way
back to the Ohio.
First thing tomorrow I had to lay hold of Robinson, that young officer. He
could get me a map or at least a layout of the river so's I could see what to
do.
In the mountains we work from sunup to sundown, so when day broke I was up,
moving very quiet so's not to disturb Essie Buchanan or whatever her name was.
I eased out of the room and walked forward to where I could look down the
river and feel the wind in my face. It was mighty nice. I had not done much
traveling, but if a body had the time, it was a way to live. I could see us
chugging away downstream with high bluffs covered with trees and here and
there an occasional cabin or farm. I could see those across the river better
than on the nearer bluff because they were so high. Then I remembered how Pa
had been on the Ohio close to the Mississippi when the New Madrid earthquake
hit. He had told me that bluffs like this, a hundred and sometimes two hundred
yards of it, would cave off into the river. It must have been a sight.
That earthquake even had the Mississippi flowing back upstream for a while,
tilted the whole bottom of the river for miles! Just as I was fixing to go
back to the main cabin for breakfast, young Robinson found me.
Page 61
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"A map? A chart, you mean. I guess I could draw one for you."
"Just so I would know where I am on the river," I suggested. "I could pay you
for it," I added.
He blushed. "Pay me? I'd enjoy doing it for you," he said. "I really would.
I'm proud you thought to ask me."
"I just thought you would know," I said, "you studying to be a pilot and all.
If anybody would know the river, you would. Just as far as Cincinnati," I
suggested. Then I added, "Do we stop at night? I mean to let folks get on or
to take on freight?"
"Sometimes, and sometimes we tie up at night. They do that a lot on the
Mississippi and Missouri because of the snags and sawyers in the river that
can tear a boat's bottom out. You have to be able to see."
Dorian Chantry was at breakfast, and that surprised me some because I had an
idea easterners didn't get up all that early. His hair was combed with a kind
of wave in it and he looked neat as if he'd stepped out of a bandbox, as Pa
used to say.
"Well? Good morning, Miss Sackett! I hope you slept well?"
"I did, and a good morning to you, sir!"
There were only a few people in the main cabin and nobody at the same table
with us. He glanced around, then asked, "Last night you suggested those men
who tried to get your money were aboard here?"
"They are," I said, "but stay clear of them. They are rough men."
He stiffened a little. "I can be rough if need be."
"If you have trouble with them, it will be," I warned.
"What happened back there? I mean when you lost your bag?"
So I told him a little. I surely did not tell him all, but how I didn't even
suspect that little ol' lady and how she switched bags on me and was getting
away with Oats when I taken after them.
"By the time I got my bag away from them, I'd gone on down the road a ways,
so I caught the stage when it caught up." There was no need to tell him about
the house by the road or how I got my bag back. "The stage, I mean."
"They did not follow you then?"
"They did, but I got away from them." He needed a warning, so I said, "There
was an Irishman who said he would stop them. He was a big, strong lad, too,
but he did not do it. Oats had a couple of bruises on him and some skinned
knuckles, was all."
"I see."
Well, now he knew what he was in for. Dorian Chantry was a fine, strong young
man but I could not see him in a country brawl with Timothy Oats. Dorian could
fight the gentleman's way, not the eye-gouging way of the riverboat men or
such as Oats.
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ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"Look," I said suddenly, "why don't you go back and tell your Uncle Finian I
am all right? I shall be safe enough once I am into the mountains. I am a
Sackett, after all, and Sacketts and rough country are as twins. I shall be
all right."
"He sent me to look after you."
"You're a handsome lad," I said honestly. "I'd not see you hurt."
"Hurt?Me ? I shall be all right. No," he said then, "I shall see you all the
way home to your cove."
"You'll have to get some other clothes," I warned. "In the brush those you're
wearin' won't last at all. You need linsey-woolsey or deerskin."
We ate our breakfast then, not talking much, and other folks began to come in
and out. Something about me was a worry to him, I could see that. I was not
like the girls he'd known, nor could I talk to him as they might have. I was
used to talking with men and boys, used to saying what I meant and no two ways
about it.
He was more the gentleman than anybody I'd ever met, knowing all the ways of
them, and it was mighty fine, being treated like a lady, like you were
something special. All the boys I knew treated me like one of them I mean,
not as if I was special. Although they were respectful enough, it just wasn't
their way.
"Mr. Chantry," I said, "that Timothy Oats has something in mind. He means to
have that carpetbag from me and I've got to outguess him. If I let him do as
he's planned, he'll win, I know he will. Pa used to say, and Regal says the
same, that a boy should never play the other man's game. If I stay on this
steamboat I will be playing their game, and I think he's got a wheel turning
with that Essie Buchanan, who shares my cabin. They've been talking, and "
"I was going to speak to you about that," he said then. "You should not be
sharing a cabin with a woman like that. It's a disgrace."
"It won't be for long," I said.
"It has been too long already. I shall speak to the captain."
"Don't you do it." I had looked up to see a man come into the main cabin. I
saw him look around and I saw his eyes meet mine.
"We've troubles enough," I said. "There's Felix Horst!"
13
For a minute or two I just sat there. Timothy Oats and Elmer did not worry me
much, but Felix Horst was something different. I was afraid of him.
Page 63
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
A body could see at a glance this was not only an evil man but a wily one. I
would never have tricked him as I had Oats, nor would he have bothered to
fight with that young Irishman. He would simply have killed him and chased
after me, wasting no time. He wanted that money I carried, and meant to have
it.
Oats had no doubt gotten Essie Buchanan to keep an eye on me, so if I got
away, I had to slip away from her.
"Mr. Chantry," I said, "you have to help me. I am going to leave the steamer.
I am going to get away. You can help me."
"How?" He was cautious, not trusting me or my ideas.
"You've got to ask me out to take a walk on the deck after supper. I mean"
I blushed a mite "like you were courting me."
He studied me coolly. "And then what?"
"I slip off the boat. I get ashore and take off up the Big Sandy. I figure I
can rent a horse or buy one. Or maybe a mule. Then I head for home."
"Not without me." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl chiara76.opx.pl
Creek, Cherokee, Shawnee, and several others hunted there. I was known to the
Cherokee, and the Sacketts were known to them all, I suspected, but I'd be
taking a great chance. Still, it was early in the season and hunting parties
would not be out in any number.
On the lower Big Sandy there were some fine farms, and a body might even get
a horse, or if not that, a canoe. I could make my way up the Levisa Fork into
Kentucky, cut across the toe of Virginia, and be right back in my own
mountains in no time.
There were Sacketts on the Clinch River, a bunch of rowdy boys but good folks
and cousins of ours. If Timothy Oats followed me into Clinch Mountain country,
one of those big Sacketts was liable to bounce him up and down all the way
back to the Ohio.
First thing tomorrow I had to lay hold of Robinson, that young officer. He
could get me a map or at least a layout of the river so's I could see what to
do.
In the mountains we work from sunup to sundown, so when day broke I was up,
moving very quiet so's not to disturb Essie Buchanan or whatever her name was.
I eased out of the room and walked forward to where I could look down the
river and feel the wind in my face. It was mighty nice. I had not done much
traveling, but if a body had the time, it was a way to live. I could see us
chugging away downstream with high bluffs covered with trees and here and
there an occasional cabin or farm. I could see those across the river better
than on the nearer bluff because they were so high. Then I remembered how Pa
had been on the Ohio close to the Mississippi when the New Madrid earthquake
hit. He had told me that bluffs like this, a hundred and sometimes two hundred
yards of it, would cave off into the river. It must have been a sight.
That earthquake even had the Mississippi flowing back upstream for a while,
tilted the whole bottom of the river for miles! Just as I was fixing to go
back to the main cabin for breakfast, young Robinson found me.
Page 61
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"A map? A chart, you mean. I guess I could draw one for you."
"Just so I would know where I am on the river," I suggested. "I could pay you
for it," I added.
He blushed. "Pay me? I'd enjoy doing it for you," he said. "I really would.
I'm proud you thought to ask me."
"I just thought you would know," I said, "you studying to be a pilot and all.
If anybody would know the river, you would. Just as far as Cincinnati," I
suggested. Then I added, "Do we stop at night? I mean to let folks get on or
to take on freight?"
"Sometimes, and sometimes we tie up at night. They do that a lot on the
Mississippi and Missouri because of the snags and sawyers in the river that
can tear a boat's bottom out. You have to be able to see."
Dorian Chantry was at breakfast, and that surprised me some because I had an
idea easterners didn't get up all that early. His hair was combed with a kind
of wave in it and he looked neat as if he'd stepped out of a bandbox, as Pa
used to say.
"Well? Good morning, Miss Sackett! I hope you slept well?"
"I did, and a good morning to you, sir!"
There were only a few people in the main cabin and nobody at the same table
with us. He glanced around, then asked, "Last night you suggested those men
who tried to get your money were aboard here?"
"They are," I said, "but stay clear of them. They are rough men."
He stiffened a little. "I can be rough if need be."
"If you have trouble with them, it will be," I warned.
"What happened back there? I mean when you lost your bag?"
So I told him a little. I surely did not tell him all, but how I didn't even
suspect that little ol' lady and how she switched bags on me and was getting
away with Oats when I taken after them.
"By the time I got my bag away from them, I'd gone on down the road a ways,
so I caught the stage when it caught up." There was no need to tell him about
the house by the road or how I got my bag back. "The stage, I mean."
"They did not follow you then?"
"They did, but I got away from them." He needed a warning, so I said, "There
was an Irishman who said he would stop them. He was a big, strong lad, too,
but he did not do it. Oats had a couple of bruises on him and some skinned
knuckles, was all."
"I see."
Well, now he knew what he was in for. Dorian Chantry was a fine, strong young
man but I could not see him in a country brawl with Timothy Oats. Dorian could
fight the gentleman's way, not the eye-gouging way of the riverboat men or
such as Oats.
Page 62
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"Look," I said suddenly, "why don't you go back and tell your Uncle Finian I
am all right? I shall be safe enough once I am into the mountains. I am a
Sackett, after all, and Sacketts and rough country are as twins. I shall be
all right."
"He sent me to look after you."
"You're a handsome lad," I said honestly. "I'd not see you hurt."
"Hurt?Me ? I shall be all right. No," he said then, "I shall see you all the
way home to your cove."
"You'll have to get some other clothes," I warned. "In the brush those you're
wearin' won't last at all. You need linsey-woolsey or deerskin."
We ate our breakfast then, not talking much, and other folks began to come in
and out. Something about me was a worry to him, I could see that. I was not
like the girls he'd known, nor could I talk to him as they might have. I was
used to talking with men and boys, used to saying what I meant and no two ways
about it.
He was more the gentleman than anybody I'd ever met, knowing all the ways of
them, and it was mighty fine, being treated like a lady, like you were
something special. All the boys I knew treated me like one of them I mean,
not as if I was special. Although they were respectful enough, it just wasn't
their way.
"Mr. Chantry," I said, "that Timothy Oats has something in mind. He means to
have that carpetbag from me and I've got to outguess him. If I let him do as
he's planned, he'll win, I know he will. Pa used to say, and Regal says the
same, that a boy should never play the other man's game. If I stay on this
steamboat I will be playing their game, and I think he's got a wheel turning
with that Essie Buchanan, who shares my cabin. They've been talking, and "
"I was going to speak to you about that," he said then. "You should not be
sharing a cabin with a woman like that. It's a disgrace."
"It won't be for long," I said.
"It has been too long already. I shall speak to the captain."
"Don't you do it." I had looked up to see a man come into the main cabin. I
saw him look around and I saw his eyes meet mine.
"We've troubles enough," I said. "There's Felix Horst!"
13
For a minute or two I just sat there. Timothy Oats and Elmer did not worry me
much, but Felix Horst was something different. I was afraid of him.
Page 63
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
A body could see at a glance this was not only an evil man but a wily one. I
would never have tricked him as I had Oats, nor would he have bothered to
fight with that young Irishman. He would simply have killed him and chased
after me, wasting no time. He wanted that money I carried, and meant to have
it.
Oats had no doubt gotten Essie Buchanan to keep an eye on me, so if I got
away, I had to slip away from her.
"Mr. Chantry," I said, "you have to help me. I am going to leave the steamer.
I am going to get away. You can help me."
"How?" He was cautious, not trusting me or my ideas.
"You've got to ask me out to take a walk on the deck after supper. I mean"
I blushed a mite "like you were courting me."
He studied me coolly. "And then what?"
"I slip off the boat. I get ashore and take off up the Big Sandy. I figure I
can rent a horse or buy one. Or maybe a mule. Then I head for home."
"Not without me." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]