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“Do you think we should take the shotgun?” Her voice shook.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I think if they were going to attack, they would have done so by now. If we all keep our heads this may end soon.”
Emma and Davis joined the gathering group of emigrants. A few feet from where they stood, Abigail and Elizabeth clutched each other, with Jeb standing behind them, his hands anchored on their shoulders. Sarah and Buck, with all of their children, huddled together. Everyone watched as the Indians went in and out of wagons, sometimes coming out with an item, sometimes not.
Nate and the chief still used sign language to communicate.
Each time one of them moved their hands, Ezra asked Nate to interpret. From what Davis heard, the Indians expected tokens for allowing them to pass through. He guessed that was the reason for all the picking through the wagons.
Eventually there was a pile of things in front of the chief. There were pots, pans, blankets, dried fruit, a small mirror, a child’s doll, men’s shirts, eating utensils and other items in the growing mound. The dress Emma had been working on landed on top of the pile. Davis squeezed her hand and shook his head when she gasped.
Three female Indians joined the group on horses. They pulled a small wooden wagon that most likely had been confiscated from previous emigrants. They stopped in front of the pile and bent to load the cart.
The Indians returned from searching the wagons and spoke to their chief. He signed something to Nate. Working to contain a smile, he told Ezra they were disappointed because they didn’t find any liquor.
“The chief says they got many bottles from the last wagon train that passed through,” Nate added.
“Corporal, ask the chief if we can move on now. The sooner we get away from here, the better I’ll feel.” Ezra wiped his forehead, either from heat or fear.
Nate again signed the chief who nodded. The women had finished loading up their wagon and had started back to their encampment. The Indians on the horses turned and followed. The chief signed something else to Nate, who shook his head ‘yes.’ Looking around slowly at the group of emigrants standing there, the chief nodded, turned his horse and rode away.
A collective sigh of relief rose from the group.
“What did the chief say before he left?” Ezra asked the solider.
“He said we should move quickly, and don’t offend the Great Spirit’s earth.”
“Well, that’s the best advice I’ve had in a long time.” Ezra clapped his hands. “Let’s move out people, and make it fast.”
The group took little time getting back to their wagons. Within minutes they were on their way again.
“Did you see the Indians took the dress I was working on?” Emma huffed as the wagon started up again.
“Darlin’, I’m just glad they took your dress and not your hair. That was a pretty close call. I’ll admit it’s been a long time since I was that scared.” Slapping the reins at the animals, he looked over at her. “You sure seemed to stay pretty calm, Mrs. Cooper.”
“Truthfully, I don’t think I had time to get scared. I figured since there were so many of us, and so few of them, it would be okay.”
“Honey, what you saw was only the welcoming committee. I’m sure there were many more waiting for word to join us.”
“Oh.” Emma chewed her lip. “I’m sure glad I didn’t know that at the time.”
The wagon train moved forward with a collection of relieved travelers. Five hours later they h
ad settled into camp for the night.
The fire burned brightly in front of Davis and Emma’s wagon. They had just finished supper, and were relaxing by the fire. Emma stood and put things away in the wagon, when Davis heard her exclamation of dismay. Looking up, he saw her march from the back of the wagon. She stood in front of him, hands on her hips, frustration on her face. “Those nasty Indians took my corset!”
Davis spewed the last bit of coffee from his mouth, choking on laughter. “Good. I always hated that damn thing anyway.”
Chapter Seventeen
Another month passed as they grew closer to their destination. The days all blended into another. Emma still slept every afternoon, ate like a logger, and practiced her shooting each night. Davis even took her on a hunt, where she managed to bag a rabbit. However, they gave it to Sarah’s family because Emma couldn’t stand to eat it, knowing she’d killed the poor little thing.
Their weary wagon train stopped briefly at Fort Boise, the Hudson’s Bay Company trading post on the Snake River. The excitement of another trading post paled by Emma’s anxiety to reach their destination.
She’d passed the morning sickness part of her pregnancy, and even though she felt happy and energetic most of the time, by the end of another long and tiring day, she felt the itch to grouse at someone to relieve some of her anxiety and fatigue. No matter how hard she tried to poke at him, her husband would pat her on the back and offer to rub her shoulders or feet. Then she’d burst into tears because she was so mean and awkwardly climb into the wagon.
They soon reached the Blue Mountains. The days were now shorter, and the nights cooler as they entered autumn. Ezra assured the group at his nightly meetings that they would reach Oregon City by the end of the month. They’d made it into October, he boasted, not having had many episodes of bad weather.
