Janet Quin-Harkin (41 page)

Ah Fong didn’t speak at once. Instead, he felt at a growing corn ear. “Missee, do you know when we last had rain?” he asked.

“Not for a while,” Libby said.

Ah Fong nodded. “Not much since first of year. None for three months.”

“But the stream has water in it year round,” Libby said. “I thought that was one of the reasons we chose this site. And you’ve dug all these nice little channels.”

“Stream has almost no water no more,” Ah Fong said. “Not since last week. Come see.”

They walked together down to the stream bank. Where a lively current usually swirled between rocks there was now the barest trickle of brown water. Small fish darted in isolated puddles.

“But it can’t be dry already,” Libby said. “It was flowing last year in October when we had had no rain for six months or more. Something must be wrong.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know,” Libby said, “but I aim to find out. Get the horses saddled up. You’re coming with me.”

Together they followed the course of the stream up into the hills. They passed moss-grown rocks that had been hidden by waterfalls and saw a bridge spanning water only a couple of inches deep.

“Something must have happened, Ah Fong,” Libby said. “This stretch of river was being mined last year. Now there’s nobody here.”

The land was indeed surprisingly devoid of life. Patches of bare earth and blackened stones showed where miners’ camps had been. There were even deserted cabins with doors swinging open. Nothing moved in the oak woodlands. It was as if a giant hand had come down and plucked up every other living thing except for the two riders. The valley narrowed and the path beside it began to climb, winding around large rocks. At last Ah Fong looked up and whistled through his teeth.

“There your water, missus,” he said.

Libby looked too and sat staring, her mouth open in disbelief. Across the valley now stretched a high earthen dam.

“What have they done!” Libby exclaimed. “Come, Ah Fong. Let’s see what is going on.”

The path was blocked off by the wall of dirt, so they had to make their way up and around, coming out onto a ridge above the dammed valley. From this vantage position they could see an expanse of gleaming water, and a great booming, roaring noise echoed up from the valley walls. Ah Fong looked at Libby with frightened eyes. “In my country we would say demons at work,” he said.

Libby nodded with understanding. “I think we’d probably say demons were at work here too,” she said. Her face set grimly, she spurred her horse forward, picking her way down the grassy slope. The booming noise continued to echo from the canyon walls and men could be seen, scurrying like ants as they worked pieces of machinery. They came to the edge of the lake. It looked blue and peaceful, as if it had been in place for years. On the near shore a fine house had been built, complete with turrets and gables. As Libby started toward this a man came out.

“What do you want?” he asked rudely.

“Do you own this property?” Libby asked, eyeing him as if he was the least of servants in her past life. “In which case your wealth obviously exceeds your breeding and manners.”

“I don’t own it, I just work here,” the man said, “and this is private property.”

“And the master accepts no social calls?” Libby asked. “Tell him a neighbor has come to visit.”

“Huh,” the man said. “You can go tell him yourself if you want, although I think he’s too busy for tea parties right now.”

Libby slid from her horse. “Hold this, Ah Fong,” she said, handing him the reins, “and stay well out of sight, just in case.”

“I go with you, missee,” Ah Fong said.

Libby shook her head. “Better not,” she said. “I don’t like the sound of this place.”

Mustering all her courage, she strode up the front steps and in through the open front door of the house. The hall was marble floored and the room leading off it decorated with elegant furniture.

“Is anybody home?” Libby called.

A door at the rear of the hall opened and a head poked around it. “What is it?” growled a voice.

Libby took in the flabby, sagging jowls, the piggy eyes, the cigar hanging from the corner of his lip. “Oh, no,” she said angrily. “I might have known. Sheldon Rival.”

Rival’s eyes narrowed when he saw her, then a grin spread across his face. “Well look who’s here again. Our plucky little pioneer. Still managing to survive?”

“No thanks to you,” Libby said. “I’m trying to grow vegetables down in the valley.”

The grin spread so that his eyes almost disappeared into folds of skin. “Ah yes, so I heard.”

“At least, I was trying to grow vegetables until somebody took away my water supply.”

“Really? What a shame,” Rival said.

“So you knew I was farming down below you,” she stormed, “and you made this stupid lake quite intentionally.”

“The dam didn’t fall into place one night when I was sleeping,” he said, still looking amused. “Of course I made it, woman, but it had nothing to do with you. In fact, I quite overlooked your existence until you just reminded me.”

“I bet you did,” Libby said. “You have that annoying habit. Well, Mr. Sheldon Rival, it’s about time you realized that you are not the only man in this world. You’re ruining my business just to give yourself a view with a lake in it.”

“Not true,” Rival said. “This lake isn’t just for my view. It’s pure business, lady. I told you the day of the little miner was over. I’ve got the equipment for hydraulic mining now. I’m using water cannon to blast tons of rock out of these hills every hour, crushing it in giant crushers and taking out gold by the pound—and to do this I need a lot of water, guaranteed and year-round. Hence the lake. The pretty view from my front window is just an added bonus.”

“You can’t just dam up a whole river,” Libby said angrily.

“But I just did,” Rival said sweetly.

“Then you’re going to have to un-dam it,” Libby snapped.

“And who’s going to make me?”

“You’ll have to tear it down again as soon as I go to court,” Libby said icily.

“I think not,” Rival said. “Check out what the law says. It says the highest property has first water rights.”

“Rights, yes,” Libby shouted, “but it doesn’t mean you can keep all the water to yourself.”

“It does until you can prove it otherwise,” Rival said. “And I’d say you’ve got a long fight on your hands. There are few legal precedents in this state and most of the judges are my fellow lodge members.” He raised an eyebrow at her angry face. “Oh, didn’t you know that? We all belong to the same Odd Fellows Lodge. Brother help brother, you know.”

“Then I’ll take it to the highest court in the state. I’ll appeal to the Supreme Court in Washington if I have to.”

“Go ahead,” Rival said. “Your little plants will be long shrivelled before you can get your case heard.” He indicated his front door, as if ushering her out. “My advice to you, as before, is to go back where you came from and leave the pioneering to us men. Failing that, my advice would be to dig your gardens somewhere else.”

“And my advice to you would be to go to hell, the sooner the better,” Libby stormed. “Don’t think you’ll get the better of me, because you won’t. And don’t think you can make me quit. I’m not a quitter, Mr. Rival. I’ll find a way to keep going and I’ll find a way to get my water back.”

She turned to sweep out of the door.

“And if you think of digging up my dam with your gardening fork, I do post armed guards,” Rival yelled after her and laughed loudly at his joke.

Libby grabbed the reins of her horse from Ah Fong and swung into the saddle. As they rode away she related the entire conversation to him.

“You like I slink up to his house and cut his throat while he sleep?” Ah Fong asked.

“I’d like very much,” Libby said, “but I wouldn’t let you do it. Just because Sheldon Rival behaves like a skunk doesn’t give us permission to act like him. We’ll just have to fight him and win.”

“But how? Who’s going to listen to little woman when big man own hotels and gambling parlors and make plenty money?”

“I’ll just have to find the best lawyer in the state and hire him to represent me,” Libby said.

“That cost plenty money,” Ah Fong commented.

“I don’t care if it costs every penny I’ve got,” Libby said. “I’m not going to be beaten by that man. I’d rather die than be beaten by him.”

“But even if you get number-one lawyer, it still take plenty time,” Ah Fong said.

“I know,” Libby said with a sigh.

“What about plants growing now? What about new fruit trees? How we gonna get water for them?”

“I don’t know, Ah Fong,” Libby said angrily.

“Then no can do, missee,” he said. “No other water near enough to get to fields. Ah Fong can’t dig canal for miles.”

Libby’s face suddenly brightened. “I know what we’ll do,” she said excitedly. “We’ll have water brought up from the Sacramento River.”

“How you do that?”

“In ox carts. I’ll get big barrels made and have them brought up in ox carts.”

“Are you plumb crazy?” Ah Fong asked. “How many ox carts you think we need to water all those plants?”

“A lot,” Libby said, “but I’m prepared to spend what it takes to keep those plants alive until fall. Then, in the fall I’ll have a pond dug on the property. Sheldon Rival’s not going to make me move. What do you say to that?”

Ah Fong’s face broke into a big grin. “I say you one crazy woman,” he said.

L
lBBY WASTED NO
time at all. She went straight down to Sacramento and asked her friend Mark Hopkins for advice on selecting a lawyer. He thought he could recommend a man in San Francisco, but warned her that all public agencies closed during the summer.

“So we won’t be able to get anything started until September,” Libby said in annoyance.

Hopkins shook his head. “The aim of the new Land Act before the state assembly is to make sense of who owns what. All the old land grants will have to be proved. You might be able to prove that Rival has no claim on the land he has flooded and will have to un-flood it for that reason.”

“I really hope so,” Libby said. “It seems as if that man was put on this earth solely for the reason of thwarting me.”

“Not just you,” Hopkins said. “There are many men up in the mines who would wish him dead. Speaking off the cuff I’d say that maybe your best bet is to find yourself a hired gun.”

Libby laughed; the remark was so uncharacteristic of the neat, gentlemanly Hopkins. “You were joking, I hope,” she said. “With my luck, it will transpire that Rival has a horde of sons back home in Chicago, or wherever it is, waiting to take over his property and do even more damage.” The smile faded and she sighed. “I see there will be no quick solution. I had better hire some ox teams and drivers and find the easiest route to water.”

“I wish you luck,” Mark called after her.

All summer long a procession of ox carts, loaded high with barrels, could be seen making its way down to the nearest river in the early morning and returning late in the day, a distance of around twenty miles. Each barrel would be transferred to a small handcart, which Libby’s workers would wheel down the rows of plants, pausing to water each one.

As the water level dropped in the nearest river, they had to look farther afield and then farther so that it was necessary for the men to drive down one day, camp on the bank overnight, and then return the next day. By then, Libby’s early crops, strawberries, and peppers, melons, and corn, were all harvested and she was able to concentrate the water on her fruit trees and grapes. The early crops made her a large profit and she looked angrily at the empty ground she did not dare replant.

“Do it good to have a rest,” Ah Fong said philosophically.

“It’s only just started working,” Libby snapped. “It really riles me to be held up like this and to have so much of my money going on water carts when it should be used for expansion.”

“Only two more month and then we get rain maybe,” Ah Fong said. “You hire men dig big pond then you be like Devil Rival.”

Libby smiled. “A lake outside my front door might not be a bad idea,” she said. “I could keep a pleasure boat moored.”

“When you got time for pleasure?” Ah Fong asked scornfully. “You never stop working.”

“One day,” Libby said. “I had thought by the end of this year that I’d be safe and free from worries, but it seems I’m going to have to keep on fighting forever. Maybe I should have gone back to Boston with Edward Knotts. Maybe this is my punishment for disobeying the gods.”

“Huh!” Ah Fong said. “What you do in big city? Drive everyone mad, that what you do.”

“Quite possibly,” she said. “Now let’s go see if any of those tomatoes turned red today.”

All through the blistering heat of September Libby managed to keep up her watering schedule. She also hired a steam shovel to start digging out a pond. Her neighbors came over to see the work.

“Now we’d better pray it rains this year,” she said, looking at the gaping hole. “If we have a drought, we’re finished.”

“I pray God we get rain, for your sake,” Don Miguel said. “I’m afraid rain will not help me and my family anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Libby asked.

“You have not heard of this new Land Act they have passed in the state government?”

“I heard something of it,” Libby said, “but I thought it was just a case of officially registering all Spanish land grants.”

“I fear it is worse than that,” Don Miguel said. “Now the Mexican farmers will have to prove their land grants in an American court. If Yankees want their land, the claims will not be approved.”

“Surely not,” Libby said in horror. “Our courts are fair, Don Miguel. And you must have the title deeds?”

“All I have is a letter, handwritten, from the provincial governor of the time. Back in 1825, when I come here, it was enough. For a Yankee court, I don’t know.”

“I’ll help you find a lawyer, if you like, Don Miguel,” Libby said. “Since I’ll be needing one of my own, maybe he can represent us both.”

Don Miguel smiled sadly. “Let us hope there is justice in this land,” he said.

“If there was any justice, Sheldon Rival would be blasted to kingdom come by his own water cannon,” Libby said. “He has completely ruined all my plans for expansion and I certainly can’t have water delivered for a second summer. I never thought I’d look forward to a nice rainy California winter, but now I can’t wait for the first storm.”