10 Pound Bag Ch. 091-095

**** Chapter Ninety-One -- Packing day hell ****

Glory be, we had added a butcher as well. When the new guys showed up, Fritz turned out to have worked in his uncle's butcher shop before he signed on with the army. He pulled a leather wrap out of his pack and sheepishly admitted, "I've been toting this around for the last eight years, hoping I'd get to use them again." He unrolled the leather to reveal four beautifully maintained knives. "I can hunt too. Got me a rifle and I'm pretty good at stalking game."

He also had a bubbly, if round, wife and three kids. Fritz was a pretty sedate fella, but his wife seemed to bounce with energy and the kids were pretty much the same. This should be humous to observe on a daily basis. I welcomed them all to the group and gave them a quick rundown on what was about to happen.

We had quite a crowd, all of a sudden. There were eight new families we just added to the town and we needed to get them all down to Rulo and settled in. The women and children, along with the personal essentials, would ride the boat down with me in the first boat trip. The boat would return to the fort and pick up any supplies we added today, as well as the remaining belongings. Captain Timmons would arrange storage for all of those goods until the boat returned. We would start traveling tomorrow, so they would need to pitch tents for tonight, if they had them. The rest we'd stuff into the tipis.

With that, I broke the men out and started to issue orders and hand out cash. Timmons and Isaiah would stay here and organize things from camp. The new first mate, Paddy, would head down to the boat with me and get things going down there. Timmons felt he would have enough crew for the planned runs, considering the trips were short and the river was easy this time of year.

I sent out a team of two to find our dairy cattle. We wanted at least one very young bull and a mix of milk cows. We didn't need an old bull making our lives difficult right now. They were to keep an eye out for anything else we could get a good deal on, including mules or oxen.

Another team was sent to find our swine. Some bacon would be a mighty fine thing to have. Fritz led that team. He was also under orders to look for a sausage grinder; that brought a grin to everyone's face. Pete looked at me in confusion and I told him to just wait until he tried it.

Timothy and Stephen agreed to locate and purchase tools. We had ten men now and we needed all of the wood tools and farming tools we could get our hands on.

I handed out cash and sent them on their way. Next came the women.

Of course, the women took longer to organize and dispatch. There was a lot more chatter and a whole lot of political maneuvering. Petalesharo sat off to the side and watched my frustration with a growing grin on his face. I allowed them to break up into teams and then gave them money and direction. The white women got one shopping list and the black women another. My women, with Mrs. Timmons, were the third team and they had special orders.

The youngest of the black women stayed back to ride herd on the children. This was going to be expensive.

Coffee was my first mandate - get the best they could find. After that, they needed kitchen supplies for each of their houses, if they could find them at a good deal. We needed stuff for baking, cheese making, and other implements like that, and, finally, cloth.

I warned them that we would be making a St. Louis trip this summer and would find a much better selection down there, at far better prices, so not to get carried away. The two teams were launched and it was down to my women and Mrs. Timmons.

I sent them for dresses, fabric, lace, and the frilly things. They got the most money but each was to do their best to get a good dress.

I finally sat down with Pete, Timmons, and Isaiah and just sighed loudly, bringing laughter from all. Isaiah refilled my coffee and I lit a cigarette. I had time for a break, then it was off to the fort and the dock. After that, it was back here to finalize major purchases and organize our travel teams for tomorrow. This day was highly important, but frustrating to live through. As the head count went up, I'd need to add some structure to our burgeoning group.

I think the last of the bourbon was in order for tonight.

**** ****

My visit to the fort proved fruitful. I paid the mandatory respects to LtCol. Leavenworth and caught him up on my business. The logistics man in him found it to be more interesting than I did; he actively offered unsolicited advice. He also reported that my exploits on my journey had finally caught up with me and he was impressed with my success against the Lakota band. All in all, a good and politically polite conversation. Then I asked for a favor and promised to repay it with some more bourbon on my next visit. He granted the favor and I owed him a pint of bourbon. As always, I left promptly, apologizing for burdening his time during his daily duties.

So I had his gunsmith for the rest of the day. I met with the gunsmith next, gave him specific instructions on what I needed, and left a nugget of gold with him. Apologizing for being so rushed in our meeting, I thanked him profusely and promised him a healthy reward for his talented service, if he could deliver. I left with instructions that I would return to retrieve the finished product first thing in the morning.

Next stop was the boat, which was suddenly teeming with men. There had to be at least ten of them, busy at work on the seventy-five foot craft. Recruiting seemed to have gone well. I was met on the dock by a bright-eyed young man with an obvious Irish background.

"I'm Patrick," he said with exuberance of youth, "Cap'n said you'd be stopping by. How can I help you?"

The man had an infectious grin on him and I took an immediate liking to him.

"Patrick, how about we break your guys for dinner, while you and I go visit the Cap'n?"

"Well, sir, that sounds like a dandy idea to me, but they'll be needing some money for food." 'Good,' I thought, he looked out for his crew.

We sorted out an amount and he handed it out, followed by a complicated string of tasks to be worked while we were gone.

Back up to camp we went.

**** ****

The more people, the bigger the mess. Mid-day meal was left-over gumbo; at least our bellies were filled.

Timmons and Isaiah had kept most of the mess in order. The goods we couldn't transport on this load were stored in a secure warehouse down by the docks. The livestock counts were promising and cost me the better part of my remaining dollars. I ended up with a dozen cattle, half producing and half in yearlings, including a young bull. Six sows and one young boar, goats, and geese.

I questioned the ladies about the geese and they reminded me that Christmas was coming soon and we'd be wanting roast goose on the table. I had added ten more women to my world in the last few weeks. Things would never be the same.

The day slowly ended and we got everything sorted for the morning - who and what went where, and why. I barely had the energy to treat Mary that night and I collapsed into bed shortly after supper. So much for my bourbon.

At least Brin was having fun playing with all the kids.

**** Chapter Ninety-Two -- Rollin' on the River ****

A cup of coffee and organized mayhem. This was starting to become almost a routine around here. This morning wasn't nearly as organized; the children and the geese, alone, saw to that.

Our livestock would leave later in the day. This morning, we were just trying to get the boat launched, so, shortly after breakfast, two rented wagons filled with children, geese, and goods, left for the docks. The tipis were all down and converted back into travois as the land party was starting to get organized. The long days of summer were to our advantage now; we had the entire camp site broken down and cleaned up by 8 a.m.

Petalesharo accompanied Brin and me to the fort, so I could pick up my purchase, Pete would take my horse back after we got to the docks. We covered our travel plan one last time, as we rode. He was leading the men and the livestock down on the overland route. It would take them five or six days to get there, driving the cattle and pigs. While pigs might be fast sprinters, distance travel was not really their thing, particularly in the hot summer sun.

I had procured extra rifles from the gunsmith yesterday. The Army had eliminated an entire regiment of riflemen stationed at the fort this spring. That let me I acquire most of the men and equipment we had purchased on this trip. All of our future trips would be to St. Louis and other points south. The installation in Omaha would get smaller and smaller over the next few years, and then basically disappear in 1827.

I made the appropriate social graces with Henry Leavenworth and took a moment to share a cup of coffee with him. He admired Brin and greatly enjoyed the story of Brin's victory in battle against the Lakota ban. Brin minded his manners with Henry. With Lt. Douglas, Brin was not so polite. He steadfastly ignored Douglas until the fool tried to pet him. That was met by a sharp growl that had Douglas cowering against the wall. Only an idiot tries to touch a war dog.

I thanked Henry again for all the assistance, picked up my purchase from the gunsmith, and we left for the docks. Pete would bring a wagon by, on his return from the docks, to pick up the munitions the men would carry on the journey. He had even managed to wrangle a deal for some old muskets from the Colonel. The Army didn't mind selling out-of-date weapons to their allies. I had been required to pledge that none of the rifles would fall into Pawnee hands. I decided that I had no ethical issues with lying to a liar.

The boat was waiting for me and ready to go. Most of the women and children were inside the cargo house and the boatmen were just waiting for me so they could push off. I bade good luck to Pete, climbed aboard, took a seat on the cargo house roof, and away we went.

Patrick was working the rudder from the cargo house roof as the polemen pushed us away and into the current. As soon as the current picked us up, the sail was unfurled and the stiff easterly breeze pushed us along even faster downriver.

Just as soon as the docks and fort were out of sight, Captain Timmons emerged from hiding and took over the rudder. Patrick assumed his spot on the prow, to call out hazards and direct the polemen. They fell into a practiced rhythm and began to sing various songs as we moved along at a brisk pace. By my estimate, we were making almost 20 m.p.h. at times, as they worked the wind and the currents. Timmons had told me that, coming back upstream, they'd be lucky to manage better than a walking speed, but downstream wasn't a problem. We'd make Rulo Landing in less than a day.

There was a small brazier on top of the cargo house and we kept a pot of coffee on. We also fed everyone lunch and dinner as we traveled. If it did nothing more, it kept the kids settled down and out of trouble. A full tummy always invites a nap and naps pass the time more quickly.

Timmons' wife made sure there were plenty of chamber pots in the cargo house and the older of the two children was tasked with emptying them on almost an hourly basis. If you really want to hear a pre-teen bitch, just assign them to shitter duty. It was comical to listen to.

My watch said it wasn't even 4 p.m. when Timmons announced we were approaching what I called Rulo Landing. There was a gravelly beach here that Timmons had used for overnight layups before. It was about a mile north of the Nemaha river.

They maneuvered onto the landing with practiced ease. The sail was furled and the oars cranked furiously to turn the boat. We hit the beach at about five miles per hour which rode us up just far enough on the gravel to stabilize the boat. The moment we hit, one of the boatmen leapt off the prow with a large rope in hand. He sprinted up to the treeline as the rope uncoiled from the boat behind him, and two more men jumped off to help pull the rope. We were quickly secured to a large tree about twenty feet inland.

Unloading commenced. I simply jumped off and called Brin to me.

"Fetch Michelle," I commanded.

He was off like a shot, heading up a game trail and up the gentle forested bluff. We'd have help in short order.

Patrick was unloading the little ones using a small skiff; no rowing needed. Two of the men simply stood in the chest-deep water and walked the skiff to and from shore. The older kids and some of the women simply jumped in and waded ashore, laughing the entire way. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits.

Timmons and I stood on the beach and planned. We needed a dock and a pier built down here, as well as a trade house. We needed to sort out long-term lodging for his crew, because the river really wouldn't be manageable during large chunks of the year.

We sketched out a plan to locate most of the trade post at the top of the bluff, with only a small cabin down here for guard duty and quick hospitality. This area was going to flood every couple of years and there was no use ignoring that fact.

I heard barking through the trees. Brin was back.

I was home.

**** Chapter Ninety-Three -- Be it ever so humble ****

Three big black dogs came charging down the beach. Their target? Me.

Mila and Kordi had apparently missed me and Brin was just joining in the fun. I rolled around a while in a big pile of doggy kisses and furriness, before I grabbed control and told them to behave.

I got to my feet in time to be hit by a little black girl in full flight, receiving a massive wrap-around hug. Michelle was right behind her. Esther was talking non-stop and Michelle was kissing me and I was definitely reeling.

I managed to move not-so-little Esther to one hip and pull Michelle around to the other side for a side hug when the next wave came in. I guess I had been missed. Even Matilda walked right up to me and scowled directly at me. She then winked and gently rubbed her tummy. Damn that woman was an enigma.

So I was home and I had an entire flock of people and geese with me. The first task was to get everyone up to the camp, then we'd organize work parties to bring the gear in. We wouldn't have the tipis until the men arrived with the livestock in a few days. That meant some people might be sleeping rough. We did have the tents half of the families had been using back in Camp Town. We'd set those up and pack them with people as needed.

We organized everyone in a column and started the walk to the camp. Patrick and the boat crew stayed behind; they'd be setting up a small camp down there and had everything they needed for the night. Timmons had that under control.

Arrival at our actual campsite was a different story altogether. Complete mayhem, is what I'd call it, and there was no helping it. There would be a lot of confusion, probably for quite a while, until I got to talk to the adults directly. The children, on the other hand, had been cooped up in the boat too long and they basically ran wild. There were women chasing children, who were chasing chickens, who were fleeing for their lives.

The discovery of the chicks brought everything to the point that I thundered "Stop!"

Everyone froze, even Matilda.

"Ladies, please gather your children." I instructed, "Do that now."

It worked.

"Sonya, please show the children the chicks, a family at a time." She moved to round the chicks up.

"Matilda, please get a few ladies to help prepare supper for the group." She looked around and a few childless ladies stepped forward.

"Holder, Amos, please take the mules and the llama and head down to the landing to gather our gear." The fellas got in motion.

Now the hard part.

"Michelle, Mouse, Banshee, Mary, come with me." And I walked off towards the stream.

I didn't say a word until we got to the bridge and then I simply said, "Michelle first."

I sat down and lit a cigarette and waited for Michelle to settle next to me. There was a lot to explain, but this first pass was going to have to be quick. I needed her to flex a little here.

"Michelle, some crazy shit happened on my trip."

"Well, that much is obvious," she snarkily replied.

"Look, I was grievously injured and not aware of the customs of the Pawnee. Things happened that I didn't even know were happening. The infection was pretty severe and I was really out of it."

"OK, you were out of it. But what's that got to do with those three?" she angrily responded.

"Well, the two Pawnee I kinda traded for. They're my wives."

I thought she was going to explode.

"And the white girl?" she asked with a bite.

"Well, I sort of bought her so I could have some coffee." I meekly offered.

With that she got up and stomped away. She could stomp pretty well, I decided.

I followed her.

"Michelle, I've not had intercourse with any of them!" I exclaimed.

"And what the hell does that mean, you bastard?"

"Well, it does mean that it's been a long time for me and it also means I need your help to sort this mess out. There is a survival need for the two Pawnee and Mary. Well, Mary is another problem. Please just stop and listen before you make any decisions." I pleaded.

"Ok, Zach, I've stopped and I'm listening. You'd better make it good."

"Our situation here is tenuous, at best. Right now, the Pawnee and the Army are allies, but we can't really trust either."

"So what? One of them might just come and wipe us out?" she snapped, sarcastically.

"This is 1822 in the unclaimed territory, so the answer to that is yes. Leavenworth is a greedy prick and the Pawnee are just flat temperamental," I explained.

"I'm 'married' to the daughter of the big Chief in the area even if she is a half-breed, and the other is the sister of a sub-chief who is supposed to be my friend. Even he is a bit tricky and pawned his widowed sister off on me," I tried to explain.

She was still fuming.

"Michelle, it's a much longer conversation. But we don't have time today and there is still a lot to do. However, we do need to do one thing if we can. There is something we have to do for Mary."

"The slave?" she asked.

So I gave her a very quick rundown on the situation.

"OK," she said, "I'll play along, but I want the full story."

"Story time scheduled, ma'am!" and I gave her a crisp salute.

I called Mouse and Banshee over. They gathered around Michelle and me; it wasn't exactly a comfortable situation, by any means.

I pulled the cloth bag from the gunsmith out of my pocket and revealed its contents: a pure gold heart-shaped pendant on a very pretty pink ribbon. The pendant had two words inscribed on it: they were 'Ruth Ann.' It was highly polished and absolutely fucking beautiful.

Mouse actually jumped up and down and clapped. Michelle said "Oh my god, you are a marvelous man!" Banshee smiled brightly but didn't say a word.

"Ready?" I asked. They all nodded.

"Mary, come here, please." I said and pointed at the ground in front of me. Mary came over in a rush as usual, and I asked her to kneel. Michelle looked at me quizzically, but Mouse and Banshee knelt on each side of her, facing her. Mary looked concerned.

I took a knee in front of her and said, "Welcome home, Mary. You belong here now. Since you are home now, I have brought you Ruth Ann's marker, so you can wear it over your heart and always know where she is."

I gently handed her the pendant. Mary took it in both hands and stared at it, she looked up at me and asked. "This is Ruth Ann's marker?"

"Yes," I said, "We all love you and want you to have it. You don't have to look for her any more. She's always with you now."

Still holding it in both hands, she crushed it to her heart and promptly collapsed into the girls' arms.