Far From Home (34 page)

Moss came over with a small glass of clear liquor. ‘Where you from, stranger?’

By the time Edward had regaled them several times with variations of his story, he couldn’t stand upright without assistance. ‘What a lovely town,’ he slurred. ‘Sluch – flendly – pleople.’ He hiccuped and put his arms around Jed and one of the other men. ‘Can’t think why you should want to leave it.’ He heaved a deep breath. ‘I’ve never had friends like you before. I’ll miss you when you’re gone.’

Jed leaned into him and, putting his head next to Edward’s, squinted at him. ‘Come with us, Bob. You don’t need to go to New Orleans.’ He patted Edward affectionately on his cheek. ‘Come along with us.’

‘Yes.’ The others agreed and cheered the suggestion. All but Rube, who was slumped on the floor in a corner of the room.

‘Righty-ho.’ Edward swayed towards the open door. ‘Come on, then. If we’re going, let’s go.’ He raised his arm in the air and waved it. ‘Ho, California!’

He stumbled outside to where the waggon and horses were waiting. The men crowded and stumbled after him. Some couldn’t quite make it to the waggon and fell in a heap on the ground, but four or five pushed their way in and argued as to who should drive.

‘
I’ll
drive!’ Edward climbed unsteadily into the driver’s seat and Jed clambered up at the side of him. The others fell into the back of the waggon. One fell out again and lay on the ground. Edward shook the reins and the horses moved forward, but they didn’t go far before they heard a splintering crash as the hitching rail fell over.

Moss came running after them. ‘You need to unhitch it from the rail first!’

‘Sorry.’ Edward grinned. ‘Sh’ll know better ’nother time.’ He cracked the whip and the horses moved off at his command. ‘Ho, California!’ he yelled.

‘Ho, Californy.’ A drunken cheer went up from the inside of the waggon. ‘Ho, Californy!’

Edward came to his senses three or four days later. None of the men could remember setting out on the journey, only that some of them who had been coming didn’t, and some who had come hadn’t intended to.

‘My ma’s going to be real mad at me,’ a seventeen-year-old, whose name was Tod, said dismally. ‘Shucks, I only went into town to get a sack o’ flour.’

‘You could start walking back.’ Jed held his hand over his eyes to keep out the daylight. ‘Maybe you’d get a lift part-way.’

Tod considered. ‘Why, I guess I might as well come along. Ma can get another sack o’ flour.’

Edward stared at them. Who were these men? They were not the kind he would normally associate with. Where did he meet them? And where were they going? He vaguely remembered driving a waggon, then someone else taking over the reins when he fell asleep. Days and nights had merged, the ale from the barrels had flowed freely, then they had moved on again and whoever was the most capable had taken the reins.

They had drawn to a halt during one evening, drunk the final barrel dry and slept until morning, then sobered up as they realized that they were on a journey and not quite prepared for it.

‘Say! Who exactly are you?’ Jed was speaking to him. ‘Did my pa bring you in?’

‘Somebody called Rube?’ Edward squinted at him. His brain felt loose and his tongue thick. ‘I was at a place where – Martha – lived.’

‘Ah!’ Jed nodded at him. ‘Martha! Did you get tipped off a flatboat?’

‘Yes, I was robbed.’ Edward again started to explain.

‘I remember now,’ Jed said. ‘Didn’t you want to go to New Orleans?’

‘I did,’ Edward muttered. ‘There’ll be no chance of that now. Do you know where we are? Or where we’re going?’ He felt desperate and wanted to cry like a child. What was happening to him? He didn’t want adventure. He wanted a respectable life, plenty of money and someone to look after him, to press his clothes and clean his shoes. ‘Allen,’ he mumbled. ‘He’s got my money and my papers.’

‘Allen?’ Jed asked. ‘Is he the fella who robbed you?’

‘No. No. It’s a long story,’ he said quickly. ‘Does anybody here know Sancho Rodriguez?’

They all shook their heads. Of course they wouldn’t know him, Edward thought. They’re all back-country men. They are not of Rodriguez’ world.

‘So – you coming along with us?’ Jed asked. ‘To Californy?’

Edward wavered. ‘Is that where you’re going?’ Something clicked in his mind about California. I must have been so very drunk. ‘It’s a very long way, isn’t it? Are we still near the Mississippi?’

‘Still in the Mississippi valley.’ Another man, Larkin, spoke up. He was older than the others by several years, nearer to Edward’s age. ‘We’ve only bin travelling ’bout three days, not counting the stops for sleeping and watering the horses.’

‘Three days!’ Edward was astounded. This country was so immense. ‘How long would it take me to get back to New Orleans?’

‘Walking, d’you mean?’ Larkin asked. ‘Couple o’ weeks, I guess. You were well upriver if you came off at Martha’s place. And, say – didn’t I hear tell you’d no money?’

When Edward nodded miserably that he hadn’t, Larkin went on, ‘So what’ll you do fer food, mister? You can sleep rough if you’ve no money to pay for a bed, but what’ll you do fer eating?’

Edward was silenced. He would not even consider sleeping rough. He had done that already after coming off the flatboat and hadn’t liked the experience. He had no desire to walk back to New Orleans, and if he should manage to hitch a lift, and no doubt he could, for waggons had passed them going in the opposite direction, any driver would expect a contribution from him. Besides, he thought, I have to be honest, I don’t like being alone. I’ve always had someone around, my parents, brother, servants. And it seems that whenever I do anything for myself, I make a hash of it.

‘What shall I do?’ He murmured the words almost to himself, but Jed heard him.

‘You can come along with us, Bob – it is Bob, isn’t it? We’re safer travelling if there’s a few of us. We’ve all got weapons, ’cept for young Tod, but he knows how to handle a gun. What about it? When we git to Californy and strike gold, why, then you can pay us back fer your vittles out of your share, and if you’re rich enough you can take a ship back to New Orleans.’

The others nodded in agreement. It seemed odd, Edward thought. These men were taking him at face value. They knew nothing of him except what he had told them, yet they were agreeing, not suggesting, that he should accompany them in their search for gold. It means hard work, he mused. They’ll not want anyone who doesn’t pull their weight, and I’ve never done a proper day’s work in my life.

But what other options do I have? I can try walking to New Orleans and if I don’t die on the way there, I might die at Rodriguez’ hands when I arrive! And what if Allen isn’t at the hotel? He may have decided to go off on his own rather than wait for me, I’m well overdue. So I would still be penniless. God, what a dilemma!

They were waiting for his answer. Tod was whittling a stick with a knife. Jed was still holding his head as if he thought it might fall off and Larkin was watching him steadily. The other two, Matt and James, were lighting a fire so they could boil water for coffee.

‘Do you know the way?’ he asked, before deciding.

‘Follow up the Mississippi until we reach Red River, then across the plains and follow the cattle trails,’ Larkin said. ‘Cross the Rocky Mountains and join the Santa Fe Trail. Then head west towards the Pacific. We can team up with others, there’s countless folks on the move. We’ll follow their tracks.’

It sounded so easy, though they knew it was not. They would have to travel thousands of miles. It meant fording rivers, crossing mountains and arid desert. Even in the swamps of the Mississippi they had heard tales of enthusiastic people joining the migrating hordes, full of hopes for the future, and finishing in despair and often death on the trail.

But I’m setting out without hope and without money, with only the clothes that I’m wearing. Surely nothing worse can happen? Edward considered. What have I to lose? Only my life. And what is that worth? No-one will mourn me, for no-one knows where I am. May will be better off without me. Ruby has someone she cares for.

It came to him that since the onset of his misfortunes he had frequently contemplated his past life, not something he had ever done before. I’ve been a selfish bounder all my born days, he reflected. I’ve only ever thought of my own pleasures and even then I’ve never been completely satisfied. Perhaps, just perhaps, this is a chance for me to make something of myself. To set myself challenges. I might find that I’m a different man from the one I thought I was.

‘Yes. All right. I’d like to join you.’ He got up to shake hands with them and they all looked at him in astonishment. They were obviously not used to formality, but each man gave him a firm hand clasp.

‘I should tell you something about myself,’ he said, as he stood before them. ‘Because I’d like to set the story straight. You’ll gather that I’m an Englishman and I came to America looking for a new life. Well, it seems as if I’ve found one, though it isn’t quite what I had in mind.’

He wondered just how much he should tell them; perhaps only as much as they needed to know. ‘I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life and more than a few since I came to this country. But I want to tell you,’ he looked at Jed, ‘that my real name isn’t Bob, or Robert Allen, whose name I was going to take, but Edward Newmarch, and if anyone should come looking for such a person, then you don’t know him!’

They all grinned except Larkin, who asked sharply, ‘Is it the law that’s lookin’ fer you?’

‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘It is not. It’s a man called Rodriguez who wanted me to marry his daughter.’

‘Wa-hoo!’ Jed hooted. ‘Is she in the family way?’

‘She is, but not by me. That’s why I fled and then I was robbed and the rest you know.’

‘So what name shall we call you?’ Matt asked. ‘We can’t call you Edward if this fella’s looking fer you. Rob, Bob, or Ted?’

Edward considered. When he was young his brother Martin used to call him Eddie. He had rather liked it then, it seemed affectionate somehow. But as they’d grown to adulthood he had asked him not to use it. In his arrogance he had thought it wasn’t an appropriate name for a man of importance in the town.

‘Eddie,’ he said. ‘I’d like to be called Eddie.’

If he had thought himself superior in intellect to these men he would have been right, but he knew within several days of travelling that they were more than his equal in endurance and endeavour. The terrain was swampy and often the trail was thick with mud and slime which made it heavy going for the horses, so they walked alongside the waggon with just one man driving the team. Without them, as a raw inexperienced Englishman, he would not have survived. When he questioned them on whether the reason for the firearms was to keep off hostile Indians or bandits, they gazed at him as if he had taken leave of his senses.

‘Sure,’ Jed said patiently. ‘We might come across scoundrels and cut-throats, and not all of the Indians are friendly, but have you thought, Eddie, what we’ll do fer food? We’ve brought jerked meat, beans and biscuits, but that won’t last long, not with six of us!’

They shot whatever meat they could find in the bush and swamp, they fished in the streams and caught sturgeon and bass, and because Edward couldn’t do any of these things he was put in charge of the stores which were packed in the waggon. They also showed him how to jerk the meat that they couldn’t eat immediately, to cut it into thin strips and dry it in the sun.

‘Pretty soon we’ll hit bad weather,’ Larkin said, ‘and maybe won’t be able to find much fresh meat. Then we’ll have to rely on our stores.’ He was a sober man, not given to jokes or laughter like the younger ones, but he grinned wryly as he said, ‘And if you’ve never had a liking fer bean soup, Eddie, then you’re going to hate it by the time we reach Californy.’

Whilst sorting out the stores in the waggon, Edward found a sack with heavy clothing inside: a padded jacket, twill trousers, socks and boots.

‘Say, these must be Webster’s,’ James said, when Edward asked who they belonged to. ‘What happened to him? He was coming along a’ us!’

Larkin scratched his head. ‘Somebody fell off the waggon. Guess it must have been him.’

‘Then he won’t mind if I borrow them!’ Edward said and changed out of his stained shrunken cotton suit into these other more suitable clothes, which fitted him better than Robert Allen’s did.

On their route towards Red River they came across an occasional settlement, a collection of cabins, with a general store, and they stocked up with more supplies, filled their casks with water and let the horses graze.

Their funds were meagre, Edward discovered, and they told him they had never earned much money. What little they had, had gone on the waggon, horses and provisions. Matt had bought the horses from his father and he was the one who looked after them, tended their feet and fed and watered them.

The track grew less swampy as they trekked alongside cottonwood trees and maple. The going was easier, though Larkin kept casting his eyes heavenwards and muttering that soon there would be a big one.

‘What kind of big one?’ Edward asked. ‘A storm, do you mean?’

‘Yip,’ he replied laconically. ‘A big one, and that ole Mississippi will flood the banks and come rolling right on up here.’ He lifted his head and sniffed. ‘I can smell it.’

Edward wiped his brow with his sleeve. The air was heavy, though it was not as hot as when he had been in New Orleans. It’s winter, he thought: at home there’ll be snow on the ground or fog. They’ll soon be preparing for Christmas.

‘Surely the river won’t flood here?’ he said. ‘We’re several miles from the bank. Isn’t that why the settlements are so far back?’

‘It’ll come,’ Larkin said. ‘It’s a mean ole river! Them folks back there just git themselves settled in their homesteads and in she comes, that muddy ole river, over the levee across the swamp and washes them clean away.’

The storm came at night. They had pitched their canvas tents in a grove and tied the horses nearby. Edward, who hadn’t a tent, slept in the waggon. The frogs were especially loud that evening, giving out a high-pitched chorus of croaking. They heard a honking of geese and Jed put his hand out for his rifle and looked up, but the sky was dark and they were gone before he could load, a formation of hundreds heading for safety before the storm broke.