Chapter 12 #2
“I thought so, and forgive me, ma’am, but I need to talk to ye.
” Russell hesitated in his speech, as though he might be choosing his words carefully.
“It’s like this. Being a scout’s sister and all, we, that is, myself ’n’ the rest of the people on the caravan, can understand how ye don’t rightly see any difference ’tween us and them Injuns. ”
Oh no. What was this? Chastisement? Had she and Swift Hawk been seen? There, by the river? Angelia’s stomach plummeted, and she swallowed hard. With her voice steady, she said, “Us and the Indians? Difference?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jerking off his hat, the wagon master rubbed his head on the back of his forearm. After shaking out his hat, he slammed it on his head and looked up at her. “There’s some folks in the wagon train that have asked me to talk to ye about your being close with them Injuns and all.”
“Close?”
“Yes, ma’am. Now the way they see it, they don’t rightly feel safe with them Injuns, though they understand the Injuns is necessary, since they’s scouts, and we need their experience and their ability to smooth our way through the hostile territory.
They’re valuable, ’cause no white man can talk to them quarrelsome tribes.
But the teaching you’re doing at your fireside at night, and to a savage…
it…well, it causes you to have to talk to ’em and be close to ’em, and… it’s…well, it’s…it’s not done.”
“Oh, I see, you’re talking about the lessons I’m giving to Swift Hawk in the evening. People are finding that objectionable?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Russell touched his hat, while Angelia closed her eyes and breathed out a sigh of relief. But it was short-lived, for Russell was continuing. “I guess I’ve been sent here to find out whose side you’re on.”
“Side? Are there sides?”
“Yes, there are, miss. They’s Injuns, after all, and your teachin’ ’em makes it look like you’re one of ’em.”
“Surely not. They’re lessons I’m giving, like any schoolchild would receive.”
“With all due respect, ma’am, I realize that. It’s just that…the way it looks…”
“But the Indians are here to help you, and the train.”
“Don’t matter. Not out here. An Injun, though he’s necessary, has to be constantly watched. No one trusts ’em.”
What an odd viewpoint to have in a country where one had to rely on Indians. “But these are friendly Indians. They’re helping you.”
“Don’t matter.”
She shook her head. “I see.”
“That’s good. That’s good.” Russell exhaled deeply, as though this conversation had been more of an ordeal than confronting the devil himself.
“It’s understandable, your confusion and all.
You probably reason that them Injuns think just like us.
But they don’t. Truth is, me and the others, we fear for ye.
And as wagon master, I gotta see to your safety. ”
“I understand,” she said. “Tell me, Mr. Russell, do you and the others fear for me, or are you upset with me?”
“Pshaw.” He looked puzzled. “Both?”
“Ah, both.”
“Beggin’ pardon, ma’am, but yes. Now the way me and the others see it, them Injuns is all alike, even the friendly ones.
And we all knows any Injun ain’t a compassionate soul.
Naw, they’s all bloodthirsty savages, who’d sooner kill ye than parley with ye.
And it just ain’t safe.” He inhaled deeply. “It just ain’t safe.”
“Exactly what isn’t safe?”
“Talkin’ to ’em. Keepin’ company with ’em.”
“Well, this is news. Talking to Indians isn’t safe?”
“No, ma’am. Leastwise, not like ye have…
talkin’ to ’em, teachin’ ’em. Why, if ye keep that up, they might think you’re wantin’ more than a conversation, and afore ye knows it, they’s gone an stolt you away.
Then me and the others’ll have to come and rescue you, I reckon. Risk our lives to do it too.”
His expression was so theatrical and so downcast, Angelia almost smiled.
Realizing that Mr. Russell considered this subject to be a deadly serious one, she turned her head away instead.
Composing herself, she glanced back at the man.
“Mr. Russell, I think your worry might be misplaced. However, if this is a worry to you and the others, what do you suggest? That I cease my lessons?”
“That would be fine. But if ye don’t see fit to it, there’s a widower on the wagon train, a Mr. Hudson.
Now, he’s traveling with his two children and his mother all the way to Californ-ee.
Ever since he and his mother arrived, she has been under the weather and in need of Mr. Hudson’s care.
Now, it’s mostly merchants that make this run into Santa Fe, and they’s gotta stay with their wagons.
Mr. Hudson has said he would be most happy to ensure your safety when them Injuns is around, that is, he will if’n you might be of a mind to include himself and his family in your meals. ”
Angelia cocked up an eyebrow. “Would he, now? How…nice of him.”
“Yes, ma’am. He’s the one alongside ye, over there—” Mr. Russell pointed at the wagon directly to Angelia’s right. Angelia gazed that way and nodded at the gentleman who sat atop his wagon not more than fifty feet away. Seeing her look, the man tipped his hat.
Though she smiled at him, Angelia grimaced.
From her view of the man, he appeared to be lean to a fault, balding, and was perhaps twice her age.
There was also something about him that made her want to shudder, even at this distance.
Worse was the realization that these people had been gossiping about her behind her back.
In fact, enough talking had been done that all this had been arranged for her, and about her, yet without her knowledge of it.
Anger welled up within her. She could understand Mr. Russell’s and the others’ concern, but really, this seemed to go a little far, considering that none of these people had even dared to consult her before making these arrangements.
Perhaps unwisely, she found herself observing, “Does Mr. Hudson want a cook, I wonder, or a surrogate mother for his children and a nurse for his mother?”
Mr. Russell coughed. Out of guilt?
She asked, “How old are these children?”
“The boy is ten, the girl is eight.”
Angelia sent a pointed look at the wagon master. “And their grandmother?”
“Somewhere in her seventies, maybe?”
“Ah. Let me ensure I understand this. I would be required to take on this responsibility for no more in return than his…protection?”
“Well, miss, the way we see it, it’s for the protection of us all.”
“Yes.” Angelia’s voice was sarcastic. “Lest we forget it is for the protection of us all.”
Again Mr. Russell coughed.
“Tell me, Mr. Russell…” there was a glint in her eye, “…you and the others talk to the Indians, don’t you?”
“But that’s different.”
“Is it?”
“We’re men, ma’am. We’re expected to parley with them savages, to keep the womenfolk safe from ’em. But you, you’re…you’re…”
Angelia glanced down at the man and smiled, though her grin bordered on the sarcastic.
“Well, you’re female. And females ain’t supposed to talk to Injuns. Least not on this caravan.”
“Oh? Because I’m a woman, I have fewer rights than you men do?”
“Ah…”
“Let me make absolutely certain now that I comprehend you thoroughly. I’m not allowed to communicate to whomever I want? Is that right?”
“Guess not, if’n they be Injuns. Now, fact is, the Vigilance Committee says that if ye dunna want Mr. Hudson’s protection, yet ye keep talkin’ to them Injuns and get yerself stolt, I’m supposed to tell ye that we ain’t comin’ after ye. But with Mr. Hudson’s—”
“The what committee?”
“The Vigilance Committee.”
“Oh, yes, the Vigilance Committee.” Angelia frowned, pausing for a moment. And then, innocently, “And who or what is that, may I ask?”
“The Vigilance Committee? Aw, it’s some of the men on the caravan—we’s made ourselves into the law here, since there ain’t none but us.”
“Oh. Interesting. And are you elected officials?”
“I am.”
“But only you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I see how it is then.” She cleared her throat. “Now, Mr. Russell, is this order in writing? That all females traveling on wagon trains are not allowed to talk to Indians?”
“Well, no, ma’am, it ain’t. But the way we sees it—”
“Ah. If it’s not written, then…it’s not some law of the land?”
He shook his head.
“Well, I don’t know why I should follow it then. The good Lord knows there is no such commandment in the Bible.”
“The Bible? But—”
“Now, my father is a minister,” she interrupted to say, “and I was always taught that we are all God’s children.
Color of skin, culture doesn’t matter. And that is written.
Besides, educating the Indians might bring about better understanding between us, and that would be advantageous to us all, don’t you agree? ” She smiled amicably.
For an instant, the wagon master stared at her as though she might be as alien as this land over which they traversed.
After a short pause, she went on to say, “In truth, Mr. Russell, it sounds to me as if you and the others are worried over nothing but a little nasty gossip.”
For such a sweetly stated remark, Mr. Russell surely appeared shocked. Recovering quickly, he stuttered out, “M-Ma’am?”
“If it will set your mind at ease, go ahead and tell Mr. Hudson and the rest of the folks who are worried that I’ll be more than happy to cook for Mr. Hudson, his children and his mother.
It will be my pleasure. However, please be certain to tell Mr. Hudson that I am not looking for a wedding or a family in the bargain. ”
The wagon master didn’t say a word, simply stared at her.
“Also, just so you and I are straight on a few things, Mr. Russell, I am probably more afraid of Mr. Hudson and his mother than I am of any Indian on this train.”
Mr. Russell grunted. “If’n it was up to me, I wouldna have them Injuns as part of this outfit. Then there wouldna be this problem. But on this trail, they’s necessary.”