Pursuit of the Blackhawk

By Stewart Nash

A year and a half ago in 1865, STEPHEN DOYLE’S wife, RACHEL, and son, MICHAEL, disappeared from their home in San Francisco. Now, Stephen has just returned by ship from a three-month expedition into the interior of the northern part of the Colony of British Columbia for the Western Union Extension Company. He was hired to survey and map the last three hundred miles of the Collins Overland Telegraph, a heated race with the Atlantic Cable Company to to establish a telegraph service to Europe. He returned with company telegrapher, STANLEY MITCHELL.
Met at the docks by his previous employer, HUGH RANDALL, Stephen was told that Rachel had returned from having been shanghaied, but Michael had died at sea. Rachel’s ordeal as a slave of the ship’s captain and two mates, made her bitter about men, and she no longer felt she could be a wife to Stephen, so petitioned for dissolution of their marriage. Hugh also told Stephen about the ship, BLACKHAWK’s previous destinations, and how Rachel escaped.
Stephen told Hugh he wanted to take time off and sail to New York, then travel back across the plains. But instead, he learned the Blackhawk had sailed from San Francisco three weeks ago; its captain ADDISON CORFE; it’s destination Buenos Aires, Africa, and England, same route as Rachel was taken.
Accompanied by Stanley, his pursuit on the ship, SKYANGEL, chanced him to meet a sailor who had sailed with Captain Corfe. The Skyangel sailed to Buenos Aires and caught the Blackhawk, ready to sail to Africa on the morning’s tide.
Stephen, Stanley, and the seaman who had sailed with Corfe, agreed to point him out at his favorite diner. Corfe and three men exited the diner and surprised Stephen and Stan at the door. Outnumbered, and with Stephen’s quick thinking, he told them he was a diamond merchant and was looking for immediate passage to Cape Town, and that Stan was his diamond expert. They would pay for passage upon arrival, with diamonds he had in a bank vault there. Agreeable to Corfe, they obtained passage and when half way to Africa, Stephen learned from a crewman that his son Michael did not die at sea, but being very ill, was unknowingly to Rachel, dropped off at Santiago, Chile.
Once in Cape Town, Stephen helped a stranded American, FRANK DELORNE, who in turn helped him find and deal with Corfe and his mates in a most unfavorable manner.
Stephen found Michael in Santiago, cared for by a physician, and then by a childless couple. Stephen took Michael back to Rachel, who was still at her parent’s home.
A year later at the doorstep of his new home, Stephen plucked a fully bloomed red rose before he unlocked the door. He held it between a thumb and forefinger as he carried his new bride to their wedding bed. While she lay with her hair spread to the sides, he held the rose out to her and said, “You are the most beautiful woman in the whole world.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stewart Nash
• Release date: Feb 11, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301527861

Stewart Nash

Mr. Nash is a professional land surveyor and has worked in most western states and B.C. Canada. His additional outdoor activities includes: hunting, fishing, hiking, and gold prospecting, all of which have given him a unique perspective when writing stories taking place in the wilds. He has one such book published in B.C. Canada, a bestseller in 2001, The Last 300 Miles, now available on e-books under G. Stewart Nash. He also has a recently published biography of a northwest 1853 railroad exploration and a 1858-62 military road construction across the Rocky Mountains, titled, John Mullan - Soldier, Explorer, Road Builder, found on Amazon. He truly enjoys the research involved in his works, which are mostly historical fiction filled with action and adventure. However, to qualify his book titled, Who Is - Jesus Christ, Stewart has been a biblical student for many years and served in churches as a deacon, a message presenter, and Sunday School teacher. He lives with his wife Sandy, for 32 years, and together they have six children, 13 grandchildren and four great-grandchildren. In 2017 he and Sandy had moved to northern British Columbia, Canada, to be closer to both of their immediate relatives. Nash currently has a few different books available on amazon.com,

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Pursuit of the Blackhawk

G. Stewart Nash

Copyright © 2000 by G. Stewart Nash

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved. This book may not be copied in full or in part without the express written consent of the author.

Cover photo by permission from Canstockphoto.com

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Endnotes

Additional References

CHAPTER 1

"Oh no, Stephen moaned. Oh God no, not that. Not my poor Rachel. Oh geez, Hugh, Stephen’s voice broke as he continued. How could those rotten bastards do that to her? I’ll kill the lot of them, Hugh. I’ll hunt them down and kill the whole damn bunch."

There now son, Hugh said consolingly. I know it’s hard to hear. It was for me too. But you’ve got to buck up. There’s more to tell. Rachel’s father was the one to tell me. She didn’t even want to see me. Stephen looked at Hugh and in exasperation, let his shoulders slump, exhaling audibly, nodding his head to continue.

Little Michael got sick. Real sick. They let Rachel care for him some, but it wasn’t enough. He died on a ship called the Blackhawk, Stephen. He was buried at sea. Stephen moaned in heartfelt pain, rocking to and fro, speaking Michael’s name. Tears rolled down his cheeks.

Stephen Doyle had just returned from a three-month expedition into the interior of the northern part of the Colony of British Columbia. The journey was for the Western Union Extension Company, based in San Francisco. Stephen had been hired to survey and map the last three hundred miles of the Collins Overland Telegraph. The company was in a heated race with the Atlantic Cable Company to be the first to establish a telegraph service to Europe. The overland route went from San Francisco to New Westminster in the Colony of British Columbia. It followed the Fraser River north to Fort George, then three hundred miles west to the Skeena River. From here the route remained unexplored to Buck’s Bar on the Stikine River, renamed Telegraph Creek at the very time that Stephen Doyle was in the area in late 1866. Exploration had taken place from Buck’s Bar northwesterly to Alaska, across the Bearing Straight and was currently taking place in Russia and southwesterly into Europe.

It was mid November in 1866 when the sternwheeler George S. Wright docked at the San Francisco harbor with Stephen and his traveling companion, Stanley Mitchell. Stan was the company telegrapher and had remained at the end of the constructed line when winter weather stopped progress. His instructions were to wait there until Doyle returned from his expedition with his maps and journal. The two then caught a steamer on the coast at Fort Simpson and sailed south to New Westminster. Mitchell was told to report to the head office in San Francisco, where Stephen lived. Stephen had invited Stan to stay at his home while in San Francisco.

Hugh Randall, Stephen’s employer in the city, had encouraged him to take the telegraph exploration job. Stephen worked for Randall for over seven years and had learned the land surveying trade from a surveyor in Harrisonburg, Virginia before traveling to San Francisco with his father and sister. Randall had developed a successful surveying business after arriving in the bay area just after the gold rush of 1849. Stephen had became like a son to Randall, and Randall had every intention of passing his business to Stephen when the time came.

Rachel and four and a half year old Michael disappeared one afternoon while grocery shopping. Stephen spent months looking for them, never giving up hope that they would someday return, but over a year later he met Mariana Vega, prior to leaving on the exploration. The two quickly grew fond of each other and Mariana awaited his return from the exploration. But now, with the news of Rachel’s return, Stephen’s only thoughts were about his family.

Hugh continued as the three men in the buckboard wagon climbed the hill away from the wharf. The other hard part of all this is Rachel is not the same woman you once knew. She changed. She’s become a cold woman and wants nothing to do with men, including you son. Had her pa move all her and Michael’s things out of your house. Her pa told me she has already petitioned for a dissolving of your marriage. Her pa and ma are just broken hearted about it. They’ll probably keep her in their house until they both die, her pa said. Then she’ll just have to figure out what to do. Damn shame. Just a real damn shame—and I’m real sorry I’m the one to tell you, boy. But better from me than anyone else.

He put his arm around Stephen and pulled him closer. You’ll be fine, son. You’ve got a lot of heart. She’s been gone from you for a year and a half now. She never came back to you, Stephen. She came back to her ma and pa and you’ve got to leave it at that. The best thing you can do is go see that little Californio’ girl you were getting sweet on.

Stephen felt Stanley’s two hands on his shoulders and turned to look at Stan standing behind. I’m sorry, Stephen. That was a hard one for even me to hear. Hugh, if you would just drop me off at a hotel, I think Stephen needs to be by himself tonight.

Stephen placed a hand on top of Stan’s and said, Thanks pal. It is going to be a hard night at that house.

They drove Stan to a hotel near the Western Union office. Stephen said he would be by in a couple of days. Hugh drove back down the hill to Stephen’s house. Hugh asked Stephen if he wanted him to come in for a while, get a fire going, heat some water, and help him adjust. Stephen declined, wanting to be left alone to think things over—sort things out.

Stephen unlocked the front door, leaving his pack outside. As he glanced around the living room, he noticed a few small items missing, a vase here, and wall painting there. Walking into the kitchen was similar, only a couple of items he could think of were gone. The upper cupboards still held dishes. The lower contained cooking pots and pans.

He started for the two upstairs bedrooms knowing this would be where he would find the biggest change. He looked into Michael’s room first. All of his things were gone. She must have given them away or thrown them out, he thought. It must have been very hard for her to go through them. Perhaps her father and mother had done it for her. When he walked into their bedroom, the bed was made up and there was a note on one of the pillows. He walked to the bed and sat on the edge as he reached for the folded paper. Spreading it open, he read the two handwritten pages.

Dearest Stephen:

I find this letter extremely difficult to write. I could not leave it for others to explain to you, so I know I must do this myself.

I am sure Hugh has told you of the things I have been through, so I will not refer to them, except for Michael. When they said he died from the high fever, I no longer had a reason to want to live, except for you. But the men took that away from me too. I hated them for what they did to me and took from me. It is because of those men that I can never be with you again. I could not be a wife to you or for you. My dignity is gone. My womanhood has been stripped away. They treated me as they would an animal, and I feel my hatred for men can never be extinguished.

I do not hate you, Stephen, but I can no longer love you the way I once did. Because of this, I must set you free to love again, and I hope beyond all means that somehow you understand. I will be petitioning for a dissolution of our marriage. Please forgive me.

In the memory of the love we once had.

Rachel

Stephen felt the sadness and hurt building. Not just for his now certain loss of his precious wife, but for her loss, what was taken from her and what she now felt inside. He lay back on the bed and placed an arm across his forehead. Feeling a lump building in his throat, he closed his eyes. His thoughts went back over the things Rachel wrote as tears trickled down his cheeks and into his ears. One of his thoughts were, unless she could eventually overcome the way she feels about men, she would never know love again. But, he felt confident she would somehow, some way, find the courage to change things and find love in her life again.

As he considered it all, he broke into a sob. Finally recovering and mulling over the past life with Rachel and Michael, of his exploration to the north, and of what the future held, he made some definite decisions. He got off the bed to look into the half empty closet and slid open Rachel’s dresser drawers as a final act of abdication before walking down the stairs.

He started a fire to heat water for bathing and brought his pack inside, taking the smoky-smelling items onto the back porch to air out. While unpacking he noticed the only two items left as a remembrance of the trip, outside of a thumb and calf scar; the bent rifle barrel and the .32 caliber pistol he’d taken from the man in the buckskin jacket. Both would be glaring reminders he thought, never being able to forget the circumstances of obtaining them while he explored the last three hundred miles of the telegraph line.

He stripped off his clothes, bathed, and shaved his three months of facial hair. He’d never worn a beard as long as this and it hurt some to scrape it off, which caused his face to feel naked and cold. With the facial hair gone, he realized he badly needed a haircut.

Doyle was twenty-seven years old and had dishwater blond hair and blue eyes. He stood at 6’1", with broad, muscular shoulders, and weighed 210 pounds. He sported a congenial smile which came naturally, especially after making single sentence quips using differing accents. He enjoyed making people laugh and his cheerfulness proved infectious. However, after his wife and child disappeared, his joy departed with them. It finally began to return when he met Mariana Vega at her father’s home, while there at the suggestion of his expedition employer, Mr. Charles Bulkley of the Western Union Company. Mr. Vega had been an explorer for the same telegraph line and lost a leg from a grizzly bear attack. The information Vega offered him proved invaluable on the three-month trip.

Dressing from the long awaited bath and fresh shave, Stephen Doyle walked out the door and up the hill to the nearest diner. After eating small, tasteless meals on the exploration, a meal of a thick, juicy beef steak, mashed potatoes with gravy and boiled carrots were, he thought, one of the finest he could remember. He returned home and slept a full ten hours, longer than he had ever slept.

The following morning he walked to his barber and while setting in the chair, told the old gentleman of his three-month absence from the city. The barber seemed enthralled by Doyle’s accounts and kept asking questions right up until Stephen stepped out the door. His next stop, the Gold Commissioner’s office where he exchanged the gold he’d found at the two dead prospectors camp. He received $325 for the precious metal and thought of the grave he placed the remains of the two men in, for exchange of their gold. He walked to the Western Union Extension Company office, where he asked for Charles Bulkley, who welcomed him back from his assignment.

Mr. Doyle, Bulkley said as they sat down. Conway sent me a telegram to let me know you would be coming in. He read through your journal and said you had some remarkable encounters. I would like you to come to our Board meeting next week and tell us of them. It would be a great insight for those of us who are stuck in the office end of the company.

Oh gee, ahh…. I’m not any good at talking in front of people, Mr. Bulkley. I…I don’t.

Nonsense my boy, Bulkley interrupted. There are only six of us and you won’t have any problem with that few of men. We’re mostly down to earth fellows. You’ll do just fine. Now, another thing Conway mentioned was about your survey map and journal full of information, one of the best detailed he has seen, and that you’ve found us the route we would take. He recommended you for a bonus. So if you will give me your voucher, I’ll take it out front and return with your money.

Stephen handed him the voucher from Conway and sat back in the chair until Bulkley returned. Bulkley counted out $1,500 in cash and another $300 as a bonus, more money than Stephen had ever held in his hands.

I would like to hear of some of your adventures right now Mr. Doyle, but I’ll refrain from asking until I can hear all of it. Next week then, Doyle, he said walking Stephen toward the door, I’ll send you a letter of the day and time of our meeting.

Stephen shook hands and thanked him for the opportunity to be of service to the company. Bulkley told him they just might require his services again.

Stephen walked down the street with a little extra spring in his step. He walked directly to his bank near Hugh’s office, depositing most of the money from the gold and from his payment for services. His next stop was at a friend of Hugh’s, the owner of a business that helped people buy and sell homes. Stephen placed his house for sale, and walked to Hugh’s Randall’s office.

Hugh sat at his desk and looked up as the door opened. Well, Stephen. I wasn’t sure if I would see you today. How are you, son? Sit down and well talk, he said nodding toward the chair across from his desk. Are you okay? he asked.

Yes, Hugh. I’m fine. Rachel left a letter for me on our bed. She explained her feelings and why she became hardened the way she is now. After I thought about it a while and how it must have been for her on that ship, and with Michael dying, I’m just glad she’s alive. She can still get back to normal, you know. At least, I’m truly hoping she can. It hurts though. It really hurts.

I know it does, Stephen, Hugh said in a comforting tone. You’ll get through it though. It’ll take some time. At least you’re not going to be wondering if she’ll suddenly show up someday. You can move on with your life now, lad. Right?

Yes, that’s just what I’ve decided to do. I’ve been paid for the telegraph survey and I’m going to sell my house. I’m taking a little time off, if it’s all right with you—do a little traveling—relax a little bit before I put my nose to the grindstone again.

Hugh nodded his head slowly while he reflected on Stephen’s sudden decision to put his house up for sale, and take off for…. ? Where were you thinking of traveling to?"

Oh, I’m considering a boat trip around Cape Horn and up to New York, and then back across country by train and horse. I rather liked the ocean. I’d like to take a sailing clipper. I heard on the George S. Wright on the way back home that they can make it to New York in three months now. Another couple of months to get back here, and I’ll be ready for work in the spring.

Well, Hugh said, a little disappointed, sounds like you’ve got it all figured out. I’m not going to tell you it’s a bad idea. Maybe it’s a good idea under the circumstances. Now, tell me all about your trip up there.

Stephen talked for two hours as he tried to tell Hugh everything that happened and what the country was like along the coast and from the ocean to Buck’s Bar. He showed him the scar on his leg from the wolf bite and the split thumb that grew back a little fatter on one side of the cut. He described the Bukwus in great detail and Hugh shook his head trying to imagine it all. Stephen also told him why he would not tell the Bukwus stories to very many people. The Indian Kwabellum, instilled in him fears of white men coming to kill or capture the man-like creature.

Stephen stayed with Hugh until early afternoon. Upon departing, he left money with him to take to Rachel. Before going to Mariana Vega’s home he hired a single horse buggy to drive him to the harbor docks and asked the driver to wait while he made a few stops. He talked to three ship captains, five tavern keepers, six dock warehouse foremen, and finally, the harbor master.

The two questions he asked were; Have you heard of a ship called the Blackhawk? and Where can I find it?

CHAPTER 2

Stephen’s inquiry’s proved successful concerning the Blackhawk. The harbor master’s records recorded the ship had been docked only three weeks ago. It unloaded rice, spices, tea, glass, china, mahogany, coconuts, bananas and rum, and it left port loaded with Gypsum and Tungsten, cotton, barley, potatoes, dry edible beans, almonds, and flasks of wine. The name shown on the ledger as Captain of the Blackhawk; Addison Corfe. The ship’s destination: Ecuador, Chili, Brazil, and Africa.

Stephen felt fortunate he’d found the information, but knew the three weeks time on the seas would prove difficult to overcome. His only hope might be that the ship would stay in some