William Johnstone - Eyes of Eagles

“You’re not going to wait until the morning, are you?” Kate asked him.

The mountain man shook his head. “Nope. I’m takin’ out right now. My feets is gettin’ itchy.” He stood up and stuck out his hand to Jamie. “But I wanted to come back and see y’all one more time. See you.”

The young mountain man walked to his horses and rode away to the northwest without looking back.

“Do you suppose we’ll ever see him again?” Kate asked.

“I don’t know, love.” Jamie stood behind her. He put his arms around her, under her breasts, and pulled her close. “But I do know this: except for each other, we are alone.”

Kate smiled. “We won’t be for long.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jamie Ian MacCallister, you’d better get a cabin built pretty quick. We’re going to have a baby.”

Twelve

It didn’t take Jamie long to recover from his shock and within minutes Kate was laughing so hard at the way her young husband was acting toward her, she had to sit down on the tailgate of their wagon.

“Jamie! I’m not some delicate flower or piece of fine china. I’m pregnant, that’s all. It’ll be several more months before I better not do any really hard work.” She took his hands in hers. “Now listen to me. We can still get a garden in. It’s late, but we’ll salvage something out of it. We can’t plant potatoes, but we can plant other vegetables. And we’re going to need a milk cow.”

“A milk cow? Where am I going to get a milk cow out here?”

“I don’t know. That’s your job. Just get us a milk cow. Right now, let’s move back to where you’ve picked the spot for us to live and get busy.”

“I’ll get some sort of shelter up for you, Kate, and then I’ll have to leave to find some cows... or a nanny goat.”

“Either one will do.”

Jamie sighed as a little bit more weight settled on his strong young shoulders. “Let’s just hope it isn’t twins,” he said.

Kate smiled. “Triplets run on my mother’s side of the family.”

“Oh, Lord! ”

Kate was still laughing as Jamie hitched up a mule and started plowing up a garden for Kate — with a mule who wasn’t real happy about pulling a plow. But he got the job done and then Jamie got busy working on cabin and corral. He wasn’t going to hurry on the cabin and regret it later. He took his time shaping the logs. The wagon had contained mauls and froes, several draw-knives, and a broadax and adz. Jamie had the tools, and he knew how to use them. He was also determined that the cabin would have a wood floor.

“It isn’t necessary, Jamie,” Kate said softly.

“Yes, it is,” he said, and went back to work with the foot adz, which was normally used for squaring logs.

Hands on her hips as she watched the sweat streak the dusty skin of his bare upper torso, she said, “I suppose you’re going to want windows, too?”

“Certainly,” Jamie said. “But at first we’ll use doeskin membranes.”

“What?”

“Yes. But I’ll have to kill several bears for you to use the grease to coat the membranes. That lets the light come through.”

“That’s disgusting! ”

Jamie paused in his work and cut loose with one of his rare laughs. After taking a swig from the water jug Kate handed him, he said. “You’re a pioneer lady now, Kate. Now get thee back to work, wench!”

She tossed the remaining contents of the water jug on him and then ran off to her garden, leaving Jamie dripping wet and laughing. She looked at the mess Jamie had made of the earth and shook her head. She didn’t have the heart to tell him he’d used the wrong kind of plow... Jamie had broken the earth for field crops, not a garden.

She stood at the edge of the plowed-up mess and did some thinking. They had plenty of flour, so wheat could wait until next spring. Corn, too, with pole beans among them so the vines could grow up the tall stalks. And they had pumpkin seed, and gourds would also grow among the corn. Jamie would have to get some potatoes at one of the trading posts, for they would have to have potatoes. And beans, peas, cabbage, turnips, and sweet potatoes. But that was next year. Kate wasn’t sure what month it was, but she knew it was pushing the seasons to try to plant very much right now. But she’d give it her best and say a little prayer. That never hurt.

* * *

Kate was showing when Jamie finished the cabin. She thought it was funny-looking at first, but she never cracked a smile. Now, looking at it, it made sense. Jamie had built a double cabin, with a dogtrot between them and two stone fireplaces with stone chimneys to prevent fire. On one side was the kitchen and sort of a living room, the other side a bedroom. It made sense in this warm climate, for they could sit in the dogtrot on warm evenings and enjoy a breeze.

“If you like, I’ll put some sort of floor down later,” he said.

They had seen no white men, but lots of Indians. Jamie quickly made friends with them and there was no trouble... not yet. But Jamie knew that in even the friendliest of tribes, there were those who harbored terrible blind hatred for all whites.

“Black man lives other side of this swamp,” a elder in the tribe told him one day. He pointed. “That way. Woman and three children. Came here four winters ago. Good man. Work hard. Friendly to all. He ask about you. I tell him that I believe you good. Then I tell him about your Shawnee name: Man Who Is Not Afraid. I tell him that I don’t think you like slavery.”

“I don’t. I hate it. No man has the right to hold another as a slave. It’s wrong.”

The Indian smiled. “Tomorrow, I bring my woman and daughters to stay with your woman during her time. We go see Moses. Is good for you?”

“Good for me,” Jamie replied.

The Alabama gripped Jamie’s strong arm. “You good man, Jamie...”

Jamie had to burst out laughing, for the elder could no more pronounce MacCallister than he could fly to the moon. It came out sounding like MacCabaister-bucket. But the elder was a man of high humor and he joined in the laughter, taking no offense at Jamie’s mirth, as Jamie knew he wouldn’t.

The Alabama showed Jamie passageways through the country called the Big Thicket, and Jamie committed them to memory. On some of them, the water was knee deep and one had to carefully count the steps to gain safe passageway. Miss a count, and you found yourself sinking into the black water, or worse yet, mired in deadly quicksand. And one had to constantly watch for deadly snakes and alligators.

“I’d hate to be on horseback coming through here,” Jamie remarked.

“That is your next lesson,” the Alabama told him. “It can be done. I will show you. It is also very interesting when you meet a bear or a panther on these narrow paths,” the Alabama said, with more than a hint of a twinkle in his dark eyes.

“You ever do that?”

“Yes. That is how I got my second name.”

“Your second name?”

“Yes.” The elder chuckled. “Man Who Walks On Water.” Then he burst out laughing as did the others with them.

Most people had the mistaken belief that all Indians would rather die than turn tail and flee for their lives when faced with a hopeless situation. Jamie mentioned this to the elder.

“Only the very stupid ones,” the elder replied. “And they’re all dead.”

Jamie had discovered that the Alabama and Coushatta tribes were very pragmatic realists. And that is one of the reasons why they would survive when the Texans made their purge of the red man in the late 1830s. The other was Sam Houston, who rewarded the tribes for their neutrality during the Texas fight for independence.

Moses Washington was a man Jamie guessed to be in his late thirties. He had a son, Robert, who looked to be a few years older than Jamie. And another son, Jed, and daughter, Sally. His wife was named Liza and both their parents had been brought over on a slave ship from Africa.