Boone's Lick

"Think we'll make it by Christmas, Seth?" she asked, when we finally set off, that cold day.

"I sure do," Uncle Seth said. "I think we're close enough that we could run into a patrol any day."

The words were scarcely out of his mouth before Neva began to point.

"There's a fort!" she said. "Is that it?"

Neva had by far the best eyes in the family. I looked, but I couldn't see anything.

"Is she seeing things?" Uncle Seth asked.

Ma was staring too.

"It seems like I see something," she said. "Is it a fort?"

112

"Fort, fort, fort!" Marcy said. She was at the stage where she could repeat any word she heard.

"I believe she's right, Seth," Ma said. "I believe it is a fort."

"Is it the right fort, Seth?" Ma asked, when we were close enough that we could all see it.

"It sure is--we've arrived!" he said.

"Pa, Pa, I see him," Neva said. "That's him with an axe, standing by that wood wagon."

"You must have been an eagle in your other life, Neva," Ma said. "I can't see him yet."

"Right there, right there!" Neva said, pointing.

She was excited at being the first one to spot Pa.

She was right, too. It was Pa, and he was standing by a wood wagon, with an axe in his hand. The only thing Neva didn't notice at first--I guess because of excitement--was the young Indian woman standing beside Pa, big with child.

8 SEEING our wagon come creaking up to Fort Phil Kearny that morning must have given Pa one of the biggest shocks of his life.

At first he didn't seem to notice us, or think anything out of the ordinary was happening. I suppose he thought we were just one more wagon full of hopefuls, on our way to the gold fields up the Bozeman Trail. A couple of other woodcutters were sitting with their backs to the wagon wheels, sharpening their axes--I believe Pa was trying to josh one of them into sharpening his, when we approached.

What he missed at first glance he saw plain enough on the second: his own mules, his own wagon, his brother, his own children, and-- nartinilarlv--

his own wife.

You can bet that we were the last people Pa expected to see, coming up that prairie road to the fort. In his mind I'm sure he had us way back down the Missouri River, at Boone's Lick--when his eyes finally told him his mind was way off track, he didn't want to believe it at first. He blinked two or three times and looked off--then he looked at us again, as if we were just a mirage that would vanish once he got a better look at it.

When we were only about forty yards away and he had to admit to himself that he wasn't seeing any mirage, he just looked stumped for a minute, blank, and then his face darkened and we could all see his temper rising.

That was Pa's way: it never took him long to go from being stumped to being mad.

The young Indian woman with the swelling belly must have learned something about Pa's moods by that time: the minute his face changed she went scurrying like a doe through the gates of the fort. Big belly or not, she moved quickly.

113

The woodchoppers who were sharpening their axes hadn't noticed Pa's change in mood--at least, they hadn't until he dropped his axe and came charging out to meet us.

"I believe he's mad as a bear," G.T. said.

Ma didn't say anything, and neither did Uncle Seth.

Neva wasn't scared of anything, not even Pa. She had noticed the Indian woman's belly, of course.

"I wonder if I've got any more half ci'=<-««- «-i.

"I'd ask your Pa, if I were you," Ma said. "I hope he's kept count, at least."

Our skittish new mule, Reno, must have thought Pa was as mad as a bear, because he tried to bite him when Pa walked up and stopped the team.

Pa just whacked him one--he had no use for impertinent mules.

"What in the hell is this, Mary Margaret?" Pa asked, spitting mad.

"Why, can't you see, Dick? It's your family," Ma said.

"Your Missouri family, that is," she added. "I realize you've got a few others. We hadn't seen you in such a spell we just decided to pay you a Christmas visit."

Ma was perfectly cool--it startled Pa a little. He may have forgotten how cool Ma was in a storm-- or it may be that he just wasn't used to people who didn't seem to care that he was mad.

"Seth, goddamnit, what is this?" Pa asked. "Who said you all could come here? You oughtn't to have allowed it."

"I didn't allow it," Uncle Seth said. "It happened despite me. I've done nothing but argue against it mile by mile, all the way from Boone's Lick, Missouri. But here we are."

There was silence for a minute.

"It's my opinion that shooting Mary would have been the only way to stop her, and I wasn't up to shooting her," Uncle Seth said.

Neva had no use for family arguments--anyway she scarcely knew Pa, and she was eager for company, so she jumped off the wagon and marched right over to where the woodchoppers sat. In no time she had struck up a conversation with them. "Seth's right," Ma said. "He would have had to shoot me to stop me, and he wasn't up to shooting me. Would you have been up to shooting me,Dick?"

Although still plenty mad, Pa seemed a little off balance. Even though he was standing only a few feet from Ma and Uncle Seth--just far enough back that the new mule couldn't bite him--I think part of him still didn't believe his family had actually showed up in Wyoming. Some little part of him must have still thought it was a dream he ought to be waking up from, 114

anytime. He looked at Uncle Seth again, and this time he didn't sound so fierce.

"There must be some way to stop a woman, rather than let her drag a wagon and a bunch of kids all this way," he said. "You could have hog-tied her and left her in the cellar."

"We don't have a cellar," Ma reminded him. "Well, then the stables or somewhere," Pa said. He seemed confused--I think he was losing steam by the minute. I was even begi

With Uncle Seth watching, Ma climbed off the wagon seat and marched over to Pa, looking him up and down from a short distance away. Something about her stance made Uncle Seth nervous.

"Maybe the children and I better go on into the fort and see if they can spare a little fodder for the livestock," Uncle Seth said.

"You stay put," Ma said.

"I was just thinking you might want privacy," Uncle Seth said. He was getting more and more nervous--and so was I.

"Seth, shut up," Ma said. "Don't talk and don't move. This will just take a minute."

"A minute?" Uncle Seth said. "After traveling all these months?"

"Some things take months, and other things just take a minute," Ma said.

She turned back to Pa.

"You're not making me feel welcome, Dick--although I'm your wife," Ma said. "Am I welcome, or ain't I?"

"Did I ask you to come--no!" Pa said. "So you're not welcome. I expect you knew that before you left home, you independent hussy."

"I did know it before I left home but I wanted to hear it from you," Ma said. "Why?"

"Because I'm not the sort of woman to quit a man through the mails," Ma said. "I can only quit a man face-to-face, and right here and now I'm quitting you."