“There is a harbor?” Miss Nesselrode asked.
“A quite good one, that will be made better. There’s some coast-wise trade, and trade with the Sandwich Islands as well as Mexico.” “And China?”
“A little. They buy furs, mostly sea otter. The business has fallen into the hands of the Russians, I hear.”
As we moved, the conversation ceased, then started up again. Often I slept, awakening to find everybody else asleep, and once when we were walking to ease the load on the horses, my father said, “Your Miss Nesselrode is a very bright young woman. I wonder what her plans are?”
Papa was not the only one who was curious. One morning by the fire, when only Mr. Farley and Mr. Kelso were there, I heard Mr. Farley saying, “There isn’t much out there for a single woman except to get married.” “She might teach school.”
“She’d have to speak Spanish. Unless maybe she started a private school for the Anglos and foreigners.”
Fletcher came over and extended his hands to the fire. He had overheard the comments, just as I had. “She’s got money,” he said. “I figure she’s well-off.” “She has relatives out there, I suspect,” Kelso said, a shade of irritation in his tone. I knew he did not like Fletcher.
Fletcher knew he was not liked, but cared not at all. There was amusement in his eyes when he replied. “Maybe, but I am betting she doesn’t know anybody out there. She’s just got herself a notion. She’s one of them romantic females with a notion of finding some Spanish don with a big hacienda. She’s got herself a little, and she’s figuring to marry rich.”
Nobody replied to that, and Farley walked away to harness the team. Kelso glanced at me. “Stay in the wagon today, Johannes. We will be changin’ direction pretty soon.”
We took a trail that led between a black conelike mountain of cinders and a dry lake. Papa was the guide now, and he often rode Mr. Kelso’s horse so he could scout out the trail ahead of us.
On the third day I was walking behind the wagon with Miss Nesselrode, and we had stopped to look at a lizard with some brown bands around him, and we fell behind.
“Miss Nesselrode? What are you going to do in California?” Her eyes laughed at me. “Have they been wondering about that? I could see they are curious.” She smiled again. “Johannes, if they ask you, you can tell them I really do not know. I will make up my mind when I get there.” “Mr. Kelso said you might start a school for the foreigners.” “It is a thought, Johannes, but I am afraid I am simply not the type. It is a bit tame for me, and will not accomplish what I wish.” “Mr. Fletcher says you have money. And you are looking for a Spanish don.”
“He would think that.” She walked on a few steps. “What does your father say?”
“That you are a very bright young woman.”
She smiled again. “I like that. Most men do not give a woman credit for intelligence.” And then she added, “And that may be an advantage.” We camped one night where there were many palm trees, and the following day we were among the Joshua trees again, those weird-looking trees with the twisted arms, although I did not think they looked much like trees. In the far distance there were mountains, and my father pointed to them. “That is where we will go, Hannes, and beyond them.”
“Papa? Is the ocean out there?”
“Beyond the mountains? Yes, it is.”
“Mama loved the desert, didn’t she?”
“She came to love it, Hannes. She was born within sight of the sea, and not many women of her class ever went into the desert, or even the mountains. It was very dangerous, you know. There are outlaws, and also grizzly bears.” “In the town?”
“No, in the mountains a few miles from town. Sometimes we rode there, several of us in a group, but your mother did not see the desert until we eloped. But you are right. She came to love it.”
“You ran away into the desert?”
“There was no place else to go, Hannes. We loved each other, and they would have killed me for even daring to speak to her. I was a man of the sea, but I went into the desert to look for gold. I thought if I were rich her father would accept me.”
“You did not become rich.”
“No, I did not find the gold I looked for. I found some, only a very little, but I found the desert. I came to love it. I rode far and wide, sometimes with Indian friends, often alone. I learned how to find water in the desert, and the plants that could be eaten and those that were poisonous. “Learn from the Indians, Hannes, but with them one must always be strong. They respect truth, and they respect strength.”
Yet always he watched the desert, and I saw him walk out to examine the trail, looking for tracks. Mr. Farley noticed it, too. “Keep your eyes open, Jacob,” he said to Finney. “Verne’s expectin’ trouble.”
“Injuns?”
“I don’t think so. I think this here’s somethin’ worse.” That night when the stars were large in the sky I went out into the coolness and stood there, feeling it all, loving the night and the stillness. Papa came out too, and stood beside me.
“Papa? Is someone coming?”
“I hope not, but this is Peg-Leg country. He’s a bad man, Hannes, and a very dangerous one. Twice I have seen the marks left by his wooden leg, and it is unlikely he would be afoot out here unless he was planning something.” “Would he rob us?”
“Of course. He would if he could, but he is cunning. He will not take a chance on getting killed.”
We walked back to the others, and Papa said, “Stay away from the fire.” He advised Farley, “Let one man cook. The rest of you stay in the dark. Peg-Leg is out there, and he’s watching. He already knows how many men are with you, and he won’t attempt anything unless he can make a clean sweep.” We had camped in a thick stand of Joshuas. “The trail is down there,” Papa said. “It’s the Yuma trail. Agua Caliente is over yonder, at the foot of the mountains.”
Later he said to me, “Sleep in the wagon tonight, with the women. If there’s any shooting, you’ll be safer.”
I did not like that very much, but I knew better than to protest. My father was a kind man, but he did not like disobedience or argument. It was warmer in the wagon. Miss Nesselrode was surprised when I climbed in.
“Your father is expecting trouble,” she said.
“Peg-Leg Smith is here,” I told her. “My father has seen his tracks. He is a robber.”
My father came to the back of the wagon. “Miss Nesselrode? Have your weapons ready. This is more serious than the Indians.”
“I have heard of him. There was some talk in Santa Fe.”
“He’s known everywhere, ma’am. He’s a very hard man.”
“You know him?”
“Oh, yes. We traveled across the desert together once. Yes, I know him. He can be very affable, very pleasant. And he is not to be trusted for one minute.” The fire was down to coals before he came. We had the wagon at one side of a rough circle of rocks and ocotillo, a kind of sticklike cactus with very ugly thorns. He came riding up outside the circle and stopped in the glow of the fire.
He was a big, burly man in a greasy homespun shirt, wearing a belt gun and carrying a rifle. He rode a mean-looking roan horse. “Hello, the camp! All right if I come in?”
My father, answered. “As long as you come alone, Peg. If even one other man raises a head, I’ll put a bullet into you.”
“Verne! By the Lord Harry, Zachary Verne! Hell, I thought you went back East!”
“I came back, Peg. My son’s with me. I’m taking him home.”
“Then you’re crazier than I thought. They’ll kill you, an’ him too.”
“Peg, these people are my friends. We want no trouble, but we’re ready for it.” He stood in his stirrups. “All right!” he bellowed over his shoulder. “Go have a drink! All off for tonight!”
He swung down. “Hell, Verne, it would have to be you. I was fixin’ to kill the lot of you an’ steal your goods!” He bellowed a laugh. “An’ maybe I’ll do it yet!”
Seven
His eyes twinkled, and he looked down at me. “I’m just a-funnin’, youngster.
Why, old Peg-Leg wouldn’t kill nobody, ‘less he was a-shootin’ at me! Hey?
You’re a likely-lookin’ youngster. You Verne’s boy?”
“I am.”
He looked at me again, then sat down by the fire, which was smoldering. He added a few sticks, then reached for the coffeepot. “Mind if I do?” Taking a cup from the kitchen box, I handed it to him. “Thanks, boy.” He looked at me again, his hard blue eyes twinkling. “You scared of me, boy?” “No, I am not.”