Eyes Like Sky

By J.B. Patel

Eyes Like Sky is the story of a wagon train and the entanglement of the many lives and their transition as they travel.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Feb 11, 2014
• ISBN: 9781483519890

Book preview

Chapter I

Darkness claimed the wagon train circled on the prairie just two days journey west of the Mississippi. The wagons had sat waiting for the past three days for wagons coming from the south. The train now complete now the arrival of the scouts was all that was holding them back. All was going well, three campfires within the circle were burning down. Everybody had eaten their evening meal, most of the children and some adults were bedded down in anticipation of the early start westward in the morning. The weather was mild, there was plenty of graze for the cattle and no Indians had threatened this close to the Mississippi for years. Hurt Benson, the wagon master, had designated the spot as the meeting place with his scout. The past few days he overheard a lot of idle talk among the people of the train, mostly negative, concerning his choice of scout. He knew people liked to exaggerate stories of westerners but he wondered where the talk about the scout originated.

Hurt had informed the wagon train the scout was scheduled to arrive and would probably have an Indian traveling with him. The guards were cautioned to yell warnings and seek a reply before shooting. Every one, except Hurt Benson and his driver, Arnie Jacobsen, were fresh out of the East. Most on the train had never seen an Indian. Hurt didn't want to get his scouts shot before the train got started but his guards were probably sleeping and would be more danger to friend than foe.

Hurt Benson walked about the circle making sure everything was secure and in the order he had directed. Hurt had been over the trail a few times and knew how to avoid some of the ever-present disasters. This early in the trip while experiencing sun filled tranquil days; it was hard to impress on people the potential dangers ahead. However, Hurt's job was to educate them as quickly as possible and sometimes a gruff manner was helpful.

Hurt kicked a picket pin loose and barked at the culprit, Swenson! Sink that pin deeper. If Indians come screaming down on us and put an arrow into your cow's rump, Bessy is going to be running around inside the circle doing more damage than the Indians. If I tell you one more time you can picket your cow outside the circle. Let the Indians milk her!

Olaf Swenson grumbled to himself but proceeded to set the picket pin deeper. Swenson spent quite a few years living near Milwaukee, Wisconsin; however he loved the wide-open country and wanted to be a part of settling of the west. Swenson, like everyone else, hadn't seen anything dangerous yet, leastways nothing for Hurt to get so upset about. Swenson had seen more Indians in Wisconsin than he saw on the west side of the Mississippi.

Hurt moved on to the next wagon and tipped his hat at Kate Rexford who was headed his direction, Evening Kate.

Kate Rexford was the nineteen-year old daughter of Franklin Rexford, a lawyer from Boston. Kate was a strikingly beautiful blonde with deep blue eyes. Each day her hair seemed to get bleached a little lighter from the sun making her eyes appear to get bluer and she seemed more beautiful. Kate relished the vastness of the prairie, she was anxious to get started; she wanted to see every square foot of what lay westward. What little contact Hurt had with Kate had demonstrated she was a lady; a lady in the way she acted and spoke. Hurt also figured money had never been a problem for Kate; Kate was used to the best things in life.

As Hurt walked by he noted the Rexford wagon was in excellent shape, as were the next four wagons traveling with Rexford. The five families from the Boston area had hired two men just to care for the wagons. Hurt noted the two hirelings, eastern men, always kept rifles and pistols close by, both looked like men who had seen their share of scrapes judging from the numerous scars on their eyebrows and cheekbones.

As Hurt went on his way Kate approached him, with a somewhat uncharacteristic sharpness in her voice she asked, Mr. Benson?

Cheerfully Hurt interjected, Kate. It's Hurt. Call me Hurt. Mr. Benson was my father. God rest his soul. What do you have on your mind Kate?

Getting a hurried response from the wagon master, Kate sped on with her questions, Hurt, I know you have much to accomplish. You indicated we were to meet a scout here today. A Mr. Drew?

Hurt continued walking with Kate hurrying to keep up. He had a lot of things he wanted to accomplish before he called it quits for the night, Yes Ma'am, his name is Dru. He should be here any minute

Kate was confused, But you said he was coming here from the West. How can you be so sure he will be here so soon?

Hurt shook his head, he had heard grumbling in camp about his scouts, and he figured Kate had something to say about Dru. Hurt thought many of those on the wagon train heard something about Dru and had somehow made up their minds about him and didn't want Dru to show up at all. Kate's question was in interest of the timing of the arrival of Dru but Hurt figured the heart of the question went far beyond. Hurt shrugged off the question, he wasn't going to elaborate, he didn't have time right then and in due time he would answer Kate's question, What's on your mind Kate.

Kate sensed Hurt's urgency; she got right to the point and asked the question that was on the mind of many others on the wagon train, Is it really necessary we hire a scout? The trail seems pretty obvious to me. The trail has been used for years.

Hurt again sensed there were more questions on Kate's mind than he was willing to listen to this evening, "Kate. It's more than finding our way down some well-worn path. Tomorrow morning I'll take a little time to explain a few things that will hopefully answer your questions. Then, in about three days we'll have a meeting of everyone on the train.

"At the meeting in three days I hope we'll clear up any and all questions people are struggling with.

If I had my druthers there is nothing I would rather do than talk to you Kate, but I really have a lot to do right now. I'll see you in the morning. Bring all your questions with you.

Hurt continued on his rounds wondering what was on Kate's mind. He knew the best way to solve problems was to air them, but he had too much he wanted to accomplish before they hit the prairie in the morning. Hurt passed by the next four wagons of the Rexford group giving them only a glance.

He looked over the next wagon carefully, mainly out of interest in the wagon's construction. Dwight Williamson, the blacksmith, had an overloaded wagon. Normally Hurt would have ordered the excess weight removed from the wagon, in this instance Hurt crawled under the wagon to look at the reinforced axles. The wheels, spokes, the axels all seemed to be doing fine under the load, Williamson, I'd say you know your way around a bellows.

The blacksmith and wheel-right, Dwight Williamson tousled the hair on the head of his seven-year old daughter Bethany and smiled, See Beth? I told you Hurt knew what he was doing.

Hurt grumbled, Tell that to the rest of the people. It'd make my job some easier if they felt I knew what I was talking about. It has been too downright peaceful for their-own good. I hope someone doesn't have to die before people start to pay attention.

Hurt rose and walked around to the front of the wagon, Williamson and his daughter moved away. As Hurt bent to look at the front axle the back of a knife blade appeared at his throat. A voice, mockingly course, issued instructions, Move and I'll cut your liver out.

Hurt smiled as he spoke, Dru! Good grief Dru. That's about where my liver is right now, right up under my chin. Can't you just yell to announce yourself?

Dru stood back and sheathed the knife, I couldn't do that Hurt. Would have been mighty inconsiderate. I didn't want to wake up your guards.

Hurt Benson understood why Dru preferred to enter the camp after dark. The scars he sported on his face were startling. Two scars, one below his left eye on the cheekbone and a matching one above his eye were the result of a tomahawk blow. Another scar in the cleft of his chin was the result of a knife fight.

Hurt figured the scars didn't detract too much from Dru's looks. Actually some of the women in the past had remarked the scars made him look even more handsome. Hurt did know Dru was self conscious about the scars and when first presenting himself to people he would arrive after dark. The train from the west was due in that morning, he figured eight hours in the saddle would put them here before dark.

An Indian stepped out from behind Dru; Hurt reached out and shook his hand, Nice to see you again Aquila. I hope this galoot is keeping you out of mischief?

Aquila smiled and replied with a Bostonian accent, Just the opposite. I can't even get up in the morning and he's already at it. I've thought about going back east a few times just to get him out of my hair.

Dru smiled, He's got a lot of hair to get out of. Lucky he still has his hair. Four or five Indian gals wanted to take his scalp on the way here at a stop in La Platte. Then again, maybe it wasn't his scalp they wanted.

Hurt shook his head at the constantly bantering twosome then turned and raised his voice so most still awake would hear, Everyone. These two are our scouts, Dru, and Aquila. Look them over good and think before you shoot.

Dru smiled good-naturedly, Nice talk Hurt. Do you think that will keep us alive?

Hurt shrugged his shoulders, It's worth a try. Better than handing out prizes to the first one who gets lead into you. You boys hungry?

Dru shrugged, Ate this morning before we got off the train.

Hurt turned and spoke to a woman just across the circle, Mrs. Wilhelm! Do you still have a little of your stew you could warm up for these boys?

Mrs. Wilhelm was a big German gal that was all business, Just like you asked Hurt. Yah, you send them over any time. It's hot and ready.

Dru asked, What is the plan for tomorrow?

Hurt continued to move about the circle, We will camp at Willow Creek, maybe a little square dancing to get people more closely acquainted, listening, thinking, and willing to work together. I think it's a pretty good group, but only time will tell. A few of them somehow heard about you, they are already talking.

Dru looked toward Mrs. Wilhelm's wagon, You figure what they heard is bad enough to poison our stew?

Hurt laughed, Naw. I just hear a little buzzing around camp now and then. Nobody's come right out and said anything but I've heard your name quite a few times.

The two scouts walked to the Wilhelm wagon and picked up two plates of rabbit stew. Dru and Aquila sat on two logs near a burned down fire and silently ate. They spent two weeks in the saddle, then two days on the train and the rest of the day back in the saddle again in order to get to the meeting place on time, they were both dead tired.

Within moments after they sat down to eat they were approached by Kate Rexford, ambling along not far behind her within hearing range was three men. Aguila noted one of the men had been talking to her a moment earlier.

Bound and determined to speak her piece and getting no satisfaction out of Hurt, Kate sat down on a log beside Dru. She was intently thinking of what she wanted to say, she did not consider inviting or introducing herself even though the twosome at the fire were busy eating. Such a thing was a breech of etiquette she wouldn't otherwise have been guilty of, Mr. Drew? I would like to talk to you about your scouting position. I want you to know I'm opposed you being hired as a scout.

Dru glanced her way, he held up his fork to stop her, took a moment to look into her eyes, and then said with a singsong Irish accent, Aye ma'am? But it's just Dru Ma'am. There'll be no need for the mister when ye be speakin to the likes of me.

Kate started again, Yes. I've heard much talk.

Again Dru held up his fork, stopped her again and took a moment to clear his mouth and again looked into her eyes, Ma'am. Sorry I am to be stopping ye. Just wantin you to know, this one here is Aquila. But don't ye worry none about him. Aye, he's just a dumb savage. Doesn't speak a word of King's English. I keep him with me to fry my bacon and keep up me camp. And, he's not too bright. No, can't seem to teach him a word of English, but, he's not a bad sort. I sleep pretty good. I don't worry whether or not he'll take me scalp in the night.

Dru looked for a reaction, Aquila stopped eating, he nodded, and he too waited for her reaction before continuing with his rabbit stew. Kate's eyes seemed to widen, obviously shocked, she sat bolt upright at Dru's remark. She was so upset she temporarily forgot what she was about to say.

After a moment of stammering she started again, "I've heard much talk of your ummm.., background. It is my understanding you have killed men with knives and guns. I've heard you to be a, very, very violent and unsavory man. I want you to know I disagree with you being hired to show us the way to our destination.

I also want you to know I disagree with your presence for the sake of our children. Men of violence are an influence our children should not be exposed to.

Dru was hurrying with his meal although he had stolen a glimpse or two at the uninvited gal sitting next to him. Even in the dim of the fire they could tell she was a very pretty gal, her big blue eyes seemed to sparkle in the light of the fire, her blonde hair danced with reflected red colors from the firelight to mingle with the glow of her bleached blonde hair. It was obvious from her attire and carriage she was a lady and was used to the very finest things in life.

Dru raised his fork and interrupted her again, took another moment to look carefully into her eyes, gulped down what food he had in his mouth then carefully spoke, Ma'am. Sorry I am to be interrupting you again. But, how many children do ye have?

Kate was put off track again. She quickly responded, Why none. I'm am not yet married.

Dru nodded vigorously, shook his fork at her again and spoke secretly just loud enough for the three of them to hear, Tis a good thing Ma'am. I'm thinking a woman really ought to wait until she's married before she starts having her children.

Aquila averted his eyes to keep from laughing, Kate's eyes widened, she was again shocked to momentary silence, she started in again a little more adamant this time, As I have said, I disagree with men of violence. I believe all our lives would be better lived if we could find a way to omit from our presence all the men of your ilk. I think we all would perhaps be better treated by the Indians if we did more talking and demonstrated a little more sensitivity to their plight.

Dru and Aquila continued to eat the rabbit stew. When Kate hesitated to take a breath, Aquila pulled his tomahawk out and offered the handle to Dru, he spoke in Sioux. Do you want to hit her a little rap on the side of the head?

Dru didn't take the tomahawk, in Sioux he replied, No. Might break the handle. neither smiled, both returned to the stew.

Kate continued after the exchange, Mr. Drew. I came to you because I want you to know I will actively oppose your employment with the train tomorrow morning during the meeting. I shall also actively attempt to persuade others to join with me in opposition to you being any part of the wagon train. On closer acquaintance I've also decided; I don't like much about you.

Dru nodded that he heard her, he took another opportunity to look into her deep blue eyes, and he said nothing in response. Aquila again spoke in Sioux, There are three men behind you grinning. I think maybe one of them wound her up. Getting hard for me to keep a straight face.

Dru didn't turn around to look at the men behind him, he answered in Sioux, "I don't care who did the winding. I'm tired. I'm going up to that knoll east of here and bed down for the night. I want to be rested for the square dance tomorrow night. I'm going to see if I can get a dance with blue eyes here.

"Did you see how her eyes sparkle? The prettiest eyes I have ever seen. First chance you get, bend over a little closer and look at her eyes.

And, what do you mean it's hard to keep a straight face? Indians are supposed to be stoic.

Aquila grinned; he continued to eat as he spoke in Sioux, "That stoic business is a bunch of white eye buffalo droppings.

I wonder what blue eyes will do the first time she sees one of the kids or some woman with an arrow or a tomahawk sticking out of the side of their head?

Dru scraped the waste off his plate into the fire and again spoke in Sioux, Someday Aquila. Women like blue eyes here will make sure everyone lives in a safe place without the threat of violence. It will take a while out west, but it will happen. She is all wet right now, but she's honest as the day she was born, and she's up front with her feelings. I may be wrong but I don't think she could tell a lie if you put a gun to her head.

Aquila continued to speak in Sioux, If it were up to her I think all the bad men would disappear yet tonight, starting with you.

Dru nodded, She sure has a low opinion of me and she's only been out here a couple of days.

Aquila smiled, Just think how she'll feel when she's been around you for a few weeks. I wonder if she knows how to shoot a gun?

Kate was beginning to think she was being ignored, Perhaps you are ignoring me. I came here to be honest with you, to inform you that I do not agree with your employment with the wagon train.

Dru rose, looked down at her eyes one more time then walked away without responding and taking his plate toward the Wilhelm wagon. Kate was feeling ignored and was starting to get upset, she felt some sort of retort was in order, "Mr. Drew!

I believe I do not like you in the least.

Dru didn't look back. He dropped his Irish accent as he replied, The name is just Dru Ma'am, no need for the mister. And I on the other hand am very happy to make your acquaintance. I really appreciate your forthright honesty and I'm looking forward to meeting you again. No matter the circumstance I warmly thank you for joining us at the fire.

Kate thought for a moment about the sudden dropping of the Irish backwoods accent. She started to get up, she suddenly considered she did not even introduce herself she was so intent on getting her point across. Aquila stopped her when he spoke in English with his Bostonian accent, I on the other hand am quite different from you Ma'am. I liked Dru from the first time I met him. I think you should give yourself a little time. Don't rely too much on first impressions, gossip, idle talk, or someone's persuasive misrepresentation.

Kate sat back down completely deflated. She didn't know whether to be mad or to laugh at Aquila. With her big blue eyes wide open she asked, You speak English?

Aquila nodded, Yes. English is my first language. I speak a little French, some Latin and a bit of German also. Dru taught me how to speak Sioux and has been teaching me a little Irish but the Irish is going slowly. He only has time to teach when he is not killing people with knives or guns.

Kate was confused, I don't quite know what to say.

Aquila scraped the waste off his plate into the fire and replied, You don't know what to say? You sure didn't suffer from a lack of vocabulary when you were cutting Dru up and questioning his employment with nothing but gossip for evidence. I'm riding with him. I sure hope he doesn't take what you said to heart. If he does, we won't last long out on the prairie by ourselves.

Kate stopped him, By yourselves? You'll have the entire train with you.

Aguila chuckled, "Our scouting is done out around the train during the day and some nights. At times at night we may be able to sleep inside the circle. Seldom will we stay with the train when it stops.

I tell you what. Coming here fresh out of the East, you seem pretty good at telling us the way you think the world should be west of the Mississippi. You perhaps consider yourself open-minded? May I be so bold as to give you a little advice?

Kate looked at the buckskin clad Indian with long hair, beaded cuffs and moccasins, a large belt knife, a tomahawk and a pistol on his hip who spoke in a familiar Bostonian accent. She gave just a hint of a smile and good-naturedly nodded, I think I am open-minded. Surely I'll listen.

Aquila smiled and spoke quietly, "I don't consider myself a philosopher, but I'll give this a try.

"Except for some of the larger towns, there isn't much for law west of the Mississippi. Maybe, when all the lawless, the wild Indians, the