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Escape From LexingtonChapter 8 free porn video
Wednesday May 31, 1843
The last seven weeks have been encouraging and rewarding--and very exhausting.
The two men from the trading post were a huge help. Mr. Chouteau came by a week after we arrived to get a better idea of what we intended to plant. When he offered to let us hire two of his men now and a third one starting in July, I jumped at the offer. Personally, I think he was trying to ingratiate himself with us so we wouldn’t sell our goods to Fort Platte. He was in luck, because we wouldn’t have enough to sell to Fort Platte.
Our plan seemed to be fluid, changing each time we discussed it. Planting corn became as big a priority as building fencing and watching the livestock because the corn would take so long to mature and dry enough to harvest. Isum plowed alone at first while one of the girls went with me each day to cut cedar trees and drag them back to our place. Samuel and Arnaud showed up two days after Mr. Chouteau was here. One of them helped Isum with the plowing or we’d have never finished in time to get everything planted.
The girls had the tedious and time-consuming job of building the mounds to plant the corn, beans, and squash in. Each mound was an eighteen-inch circle and the center of each was thirty inches from the center of the next one.
Once Nawaji assured us that the frosts were behind us, we planted corn in every other mound starting three weeks ago. Counting from the stream towards the ridges, in the odd numbered rows, we planted corn in the odd numbered mounds. In even-numbered rows, corn went in even numbered mounds, offsetting the mounds of corn from each other. When the corn plants reached four to six inches, the girls thinned them to the four strongest plants per mound and had just finished planting beans in the same mounds. They also planted squash in the empty mounds between corn mounds. Until those squash plants grew big enough to cover the ground, the girls had to use the hoes to weed occasionally.
We were lucky because we plowed and planted the fields before the new prairie grass really started growing. Even then, it was rough going, cutting through the thick mat of roots beneath the surface. If we hadn’t been using the new, steel-bladed plows, we might still be plowing the first field.
By the time we finished plowing all the fields, each of the girls had learned to ride herd on our cattle, which let Jimmey and Isum help with other jobs. While the plowing was being done, Samuel and Arnaud alternated helping Isum plow and helping with other critical tasks. They planted our poor, neglected fruit trees, set out the beehives, and then helped me chop down and haul cedar trees back to our place.
Then they planted the higher slopes around our valley with the acorns, hickory nuts, black walnuts, and chestnuts I had collected along the way in case those trees didn’t grow here naturally. They also planted the cedar berries along the top of the western ridge, hoping the trees would help dissipate the harshest of the winter winds blowing out of the northwest towards our door. Nawaji had previously planted wild cherries, saskatoon berries, buffalo berries, and Cherokee plums along some of the ridges from seeds that she had gathered or traded for.
The Osage orange cuttings that I bought ended up being used for something entirely different than I had originally envisioned. After looking the property over, I planted them right above the cave’s entrance and along the upper edges of the ravine leading up to the door. That would prevent a predator--two or four-legged--from ambushing us as soon as we exited the door.
We made sure the ridges where we planted trees were free of undergrowth that could catch fire if a prairie fire swept through here. As our collection of timber grew, Isum and Jimmey started digging holes for fence posts. We used trunks that were fourteen to sixteen inches across for the posts, burying them four feet deep in the rich soil while leaving seven feet above ground. I knew that a seven-foot fence wouldn’t stop a determined deer, but it should stop the younger ones, which should keep most of the herd out.
Setting the posts in pairs with an eight-inch gap between them, we fit eight-inch thick and twelve-inch-high planks between the posts to make the crosspieces. That way, we didn’t have to nail them, saving our limited supply of nails. We split the fencing planks from trees we cut down. Where the bottom board rested on the ground, we always used cedar, but the rest were an eclectic mix of whatever other trees we found nearby to cut down and split, mainly pine.
The first crosspiece went to the left and the next one above it went right, leaving twelve-inch gaps between each fence board.
First, we finished the fences across each stream, and then we built a pen for the pigs and a run for the chickens. Following that, we fenced in several pastures for the cows. The pastures were easier to fence because we built split rail fences zig-zag with the corners of the rails stacked atop each other. After plowing the field for corn, plowing our garden was next and the girls transitioned from planting corn to planting our garden.
We heaved a deep sigh of relief when we finished the planting five days ago. Our corn, wheat, oats, and produce garden are all in, and the tobacco has been started. The most pressing jobs have been completed, although we still have a lot of work to do. Aside from dealing with the livestock, we took today off, spending much of the day in bed enjoying each other, something we’ve had far too little time, energy, and inclination to do for too long.
The one important thing we haven’t yet accomplished is making sure we have enough coal to get through the winter. Tomorrow, Nawaji will lead Mahala, Sallie, and me to the coal deposit. Mahala and Sallie will each drive one of our wagons and Nawaji and I will lead our mules. Nawaji assures me that the trail is adequate for our wagons to use to reach the coal deposit.
Isum and Jimmey spent three days tearing apart our fifth wagon and making two carts out of it. It was the wagon I had the wagon builder make so we could do just that.
Friday June 30, 1843
Whew, yet another month is behind us--which means we are a month closer to the approaching winter. Once again, we stopped to take a day off today, although the last four weeks haven’t been quite as intense as the first several were. Still, they have been very physically demanding. We’ve been so exhausted since our arrival that sex has been beyond our capabilities most nights.
We planted the entire tobacco field by transplanting six-inch seedlings the girls had carefully watched over. Our half-acre field accommodated just over twenty-five hundred plants. We had lots of extras that we didn’t plant, which let us transplant the biggest and strongest plants. I thought we’d planted enough tobacco to last for two or three years, but the former slaves assured me that we hadn’t planted much at all. I took their word for it, but transplanting that many plants was a real chore. Heck, we only planted a hundred tomato plants to feed all of us for a full year.
The former slave girls suggested that we bring back lots of glass next year if we went to St. Louis. In Kentucky, they had something akin to a lean-to except the south-facing side had lots of glass panes to let the sun in. They started the tobacco plants in there a few weeks before the weather would allow them to plant them outdoors. The sunlight kept the inside warm enough for the seeds to sprout. A small wood-burning stove kept the inside warm during the cold nights of late winter and early spring until the ground was warm enough to transplant the seedlings.
I was already thinking about glass panes for a different project. I was considering building two cabins just outside the entrance of the cave. My plan was to cover the current opening we used to herd the livestock into the cave. The two cabins would back up against the passageway so we could get inside the cave without exposing ourselves if we were attacked.
The top of the opening into the cave would be covered with cedar tree trunks lying across the opening. We’d put a thin layer of rock and mortar over the tree trunks and cover that with a layer of adobe mud to make it look like part of the ridge. By having cabins, we could have windows, allowing more sunlight into the cabins during the day, reducing our need for alcohol and oil for our lamps.
We have made two trips to the coal deposit and filled two wagons each time, as well as the woven baskets that Nawaji had previously used with the mules to bring coal back when she was with Mule. Based on what I remembered from before leaving home, I estimated that a full wagon held about four tons of coal.
At first, I used a pick to break the coal up and the girls shoveled it into baskets that they dumped into one of the wagons. After our first trip, I decided to cheat. I made a two-foot-deep hole in the coal using a sledgehammer and a star bit. I packed the hole with black powder. After inserting a fuse, I covered it with a heavy rock and lit the fuse. Then I ran like hell.
When the black powder exploded, it broke up a section of the coal seam into big chunks that we could handle without me having to use the pick to break everything up. Instead, I used the pick to pry apart the cracked area so we could pull the large chunks out. While the girls gathered the loose coal, I prepared a second hole. Filling the two wagons went much faster the second time and we were home before noon of the third day instead of near dark the fourth day like the first time. After the first two wagons, Nawaji wasn’t sure, but felt we should bring back at least two more wagonloads of coal just to be safe and because I worry about everything, I agreed.
First, however, I wanted to build some sort of bin to hold the coal. Fortunately, Mule had built a wooden fence across the barn portion of the cave to keep the livestock on one side. I weighed the pros and cons of building a wood storage bin versus a stone storage bin. I knew that I eventually wanted stone storage bins for coal, corn, wheat, and oats, but that was a job for another time, probably this winter when there was little else to do or when it was too cold to go outside. If we collected enough rock and burned enough lime before being cooped up for the winter, we might be able to complete them before next spring’s planting starts. I went ahead and built a storage bin out of saplings and rough planks. It was a rushed job and there were gaps between the boards when we finished, but it would suffice for the time being.
When Fort John heard that we had coal, they asked to buy two wagons full for their blacksmith to save them the trouble of finding enough lumber to make charcoal. They also let us know that a wagon train with about a thousand people and a hundred wagons planned to leave Elm Grove, Missouri on the twenty-second of May. They heard that the wagon train had a herd of five thousand cattle and oxen they were driving to Oregon. “It will be interesting to hear how many of the cattle and oxen finally make it there,” Samuel laughed.
“They’ll lose some to accidents, and a few to predators. A lot of them will have hooves too sore to continue. Your small herd was on the trail less than four weeks, and I remember you saying that some of them couldn’t have gone another week without stopping for a few days. The wagon train will probably follow the Platte River like most trappers do so it will take them almost nine weeks just to get this far. You might be able to increase your herd by trading them some things they need for any cattle that can’t continue,” he suggested.
I didn’t want to tell him, but we could probably pay cash for quite a few. I wondered how many I actually needed. Nawaji said the Indians would eat beef if it was available, but they preferred meat from game animals. I’d have to ask how much beef the fort figured they might want to buy each year, and then how much we’d eat. Extra milk would let us make more cheese.
Doing the calculations in my head, I figured the wagon train would be here between July 20 and July 30.
Samuel and Arnaud helped us gather rocks to use for building inside the cave this winter and helped us cut down timber to cut into lumber or to make into fence rails. They also helped us cut and chop firewood for burning the limestone to make mortar.
I took Mahala and Sallie when I went back to get more coal. The day after we returned safely with the last wagons of coal, Nawaji took me out to explore the area around us and to hunt. We had rivers, streams, flat prairie, sloped prairie, ridges, and a few trees. The trees were usually in clusters on the ridges or along rivers and streams. Some were high enough up in the hills and mountains that prairie grass didn’t reach them. I realized that a prairie fire wouldn’t reach trees growing on the ridges. Prairie grass grew everywhere except riverbeds, streambeds, and the ridges, although the trappers had told me that the prairie grass here was much shorter than the grass on the prairie closer to the Missouri River.
Thursday August 3, 1843
Yet another month has flown by, which means we are another month closer to our first winter here. I have mixed feelings about this coming winter. Samuel, George, and Arnaud have told us how rough the last two winters were. They were probably kidding, but they spoke of weather so cold that your piss froze before it hit the ground. Tempestuous winter storms hit the area, one after the other, depositing heavy snow in places that rarely got snow or that usually had only a few inches on the ground at a time.
I’m used to snowshoes and have mine with me, but they showed me “Norwegian snowshoes,” which they said were also called skis. Then they had to explain that a Norwegian was someone from a mountainous country with lots of snow in northern Europe. The Norwegian snowshoes were unlike anything I’d ever seen. The one for the left foot looked like a thick, varnished, extremely smooth wooden plank about seven feet long. The front bowed up slightly like the runner for a sleigh. There was a raised platform near the center of the ski with leather bindings to attach it to your foot. They coated the bottom with animal fat before using it.
The one for the right foot was similar to the left except that it was only a few inches longer than your foot was and the bottom was rough like a rough-sawn board. They explained that you push with the right foot and glide on the left foot. A single pole helped you maintain your balance. I intended to make a pair for everyone this winter while we were cooped up indoors.
The girls think that the most important thing we accomplished this month was installing one of the water pumps in the kitchen area. We used about a third of the cast iron pipe we brought with us, running it from the cold-water pool in the lowest part of the cave. Now, we can pump the water we need for cooking, drinking, and bathing.
A second pipe branches off and goes through a hole we made in the limestone wall separating the housing cave and the barn portion of the cave. We installed a second pump in the barn to use for watering the livestock. One of my goals this winter is to build a mortar and stone watering trough along two walls of the area where we intend to keep the animals, so we don’t have to carry water to each of the tubs we currently use to water the animals.
The wagon train left Fort John yesterday, bound for Oregon. Samuel was right about the cattle. They’d already lost twenty head before arriving here and, according to all the trappers, the worst part of the journey was still ahead of them. After giving the cattle--and the entire wagon train--five days to rest, they still had 97 cattle they didn’t think could continue. The cattle only needed time to rest before they’d be okay, but the wagon train couldn’t afford to wait any longer. Given their desperation to sell the cattle and the condition the cattle were in, plus the fact that I was the only interested buyer, I got them for eight dollars a head compared to the twenty dollars a head they paid for the cattle.
Before we herded the cattle home, we went inside to find Mr. Chouteau. They still burn a lot of wood at the fort. They keep the hardwood ashes to make soap, but used to dump the other ashes onto the ground outside the fort. Now they save them for us. We pick them up every other week by filling the empty coal baskets and letting the mules carry them back. We use the ashes to make bricks for fireplaces and hearths, as well as for fertilizing our tobacco plants. Even though Mr. Chouteau always agrees, I still ask each time if we can take the cold ashes from the ash bin they built just to hold them for us.
Tara, Nawaji, and I filled ten of the coal baskets with ashes and tied them off to the mules. Edy and Jimmey were still watching the cattle outside the fort. We had just exited the fort’s gate when we heard a young woman screaming at someone. The noise was coming from the wagon train and the screamer was easy to pick out as she stood defiantly, hands on her hips, shouting at a man who appeared to be her father.
“You can’t just leave me here,” she shrieked. “How will I support myself?”
“You should have thought of that before you started doing things for married men that only their wives should be doing,” the man replied at a much lower volume. “As for supporting yourself, maybe you can get a ride back to St. Louis when someone goes that way and work in the saloon, doing what you already seem to enjoy doing.”
“You want me to work as a whore?” she gasped, stunned.
“The only difference will be that you’ll get paid now,” he replied.
“How can you just leave me here like that?” she sobbed.
“I don’t have much choice,” he replied. “Several women from the wagon train have threatened to shoot you the next time they see you near their wagon. The wagon master said that either we leave you behind or he leaves our whole family behind. I have to think about your four siblings and your mother, too,” he answered emotionally.
“Oh, shit,” I thought when Nawaji approached the man. She and Tara had just looked at each other. I was afraid Nawaji was going to chew him out and I released the strap holding my revolver in the holster.
“I’ll give you $20 for the girl. I’ll give her comfortable place to stay, and work to earn her keep,” Nawaji offered.
“Oh, shit,” I thought again, but for a different reason.
After looking at Nawaji, the man declined her offer. “I don’t think I want my daughter kept by Indians,” he said.
“My husband is a white man,” she replied calmly.
“What work will she be expected to do?” he asked.
“She will help keep house, work on our farm, and will provide the services you mention to only one man,” she replied sincerely.
He looked from his daughter to the fort and back to Nawaji. “Deal,” he replied.
“First, I want to see her naked to make sure she isn’t scarred,” Nawaji insisted. The girl kept looking back and forth between the two, her mouth hanging open in shock.
“I will NOT take my clothes off for a ... an INDIAN,” she sputtered angrily, emphasizing the word “Indian” as if it was a bad word.
“I will count to fifty. When she looks into the wagon, you had better be naked. If you’re not, I’ll come in and strip you myself,” her father growled threateningly.
“You wouldn’t,” she challenged.
“He would, and I’ll help him,” her mother said, finally stepping forward and entering the fracas.
“One,” her father started. He reached ten before she realized that he was serious and ran for the wagon.
When Nawaji looked inside, Tara joined her. Nawaji told the girl to turn around. Evidently satisfied, she walked over to me and opened the saddlebag, removing four gold half eagles that she handed to the man.
“You got one minute to get out here,” he warned his daughter. “Please don’t hurt her,” he said emotionally to Nawaji.
“She will not be harmed,” Nawaji promised, “but she will probably hurt a lot before she learns her place,” she warned.
“That’s all I can ask,” he replied resignedly. “By the way, her name is Emma,” he added. Nawaji nodded her acknowledgment and asked for a receipt made out to Lewis Clark.
Emma’s face was streaked with tears when she exited the wagon, fully redressed and carrying a small bundle of what was evidently her one extra set of clothing.
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