The High Lonesome

By John Collins

Bill's Story

Bill Curry leaves New Albany, Indiana, after killing his abusive stepfather. In search of a new life, he meets two mountain men, Jim Kelly and Red Sampson, who take him under their wings and show him the ways of becoming a free trapper in the high lonesome. And to him, living with the Lakota Sioux and a new wife, Raven, the daughter of chief, Red Hawk.

Ron's story

Ron Baker, an orphan, was left with his uncle and aunt to raise. He dreams of stories he had heard of a breed of men who trapped the Rocky Mountains. He, at age sixteen, decides he would leave the blue ridges of Virginia and travel to the jump-off point at Independence, Missouri. As fate would have it, Bill and Ron are brought together to start a life of adventure and lasting friendship with the Lakota.

The story will hold your interest from the first page to the last.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Mar 25, 2021
• ISBN: 9781636923376

John Collins

JOHN COLLINS is professor of global studies at St. Lawrence University and the editorial director of Weave News. He is the author of Global Palestine and coauthor with Eve W. Stoddard of Social and Cultural Foundations in Global Studies. He lives in Canton, New York.

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The High Lonesome

John Collins

Copyright © 2021 John Collins

All rights reserved

First Edition

NEWMAN SPRINGS PUBLISHING

320 Broad Street

Red Bank, NJ 07701

First originally published by Newman Springs Publishing 2021

ISBN 978-1-63692-336-9 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-63692-337-6 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Bill’s Story

Ron’s Story

To Sandy and Moose

Bill’s Story

The July sun was slowly beginning to fade in the west. Small dust devils were spinning, and you could see heat waves radiating from the hot earth.

Bill Curry, a boy of sixteen, walked behind the slow-moving mule, sweat dripping into his eyes, his naked back sunburned and blistered. He had been plowing for nine hours and it would take another three hours to finish.

His stepdad did not need this barren field, but being a cruel and mean man, he worked Bill like an indentured servant with no letup.

Bill knew that when he got home, his stepdad would find something else for him to do while he had been lying around drinking rotgut whiskey all day.

Bill’s dad had died three years before from consumption, slowly smothering to death, coughing up blood and phlegm with almost every breath.

His mother, not having any means of support and with no education, was forced to marry Silas Sloan, a man of poor character and mean disposition. From day one, he had beaten Bill and his mother, seeming to take great pleasure in doing so.

Bill had endured this for three years and thought often of running away, but he knew Silas would kill his mother if he did.

So he endured the beatings, punishment, and slave labor. Bill rode the old mule back to the farmhouse, put the mule in the barn, rubbed her down, and fed her.

Then he started the slow walk to the house, when he heard his mother screaming. When he stepped into the house, his mother was lying on the floor with blood oozing from a cut on the side of her head.

A blinding rage flew over Bill. He grabbed the ax by the door and started toward his stepfather.

Silas looked at him through bloodshot, drunken eyes and laughed. He said, I guess you want some of this too, boy.

Bill swung the ax with all the force his young supple body could muster. The blow caught Silas above his left ear and cut deep into his head. He fell dead on the floor.

Bill ran to his mother, who lay unconscious in a pool of blood. He went to the pump and wet a towel and placed it on her head and applied pressure to try to stanch the flow of blood. He worked with her till she regained consciousness.

She looked around through dazed eyes and said, Son, what have you done?

He said, I killed that damn son of a bitch before he killed you or me, and good riddance.

He picked up his mother’s frail body and placed her on the bed. He then grabbed Silas by the feet and dragged him outside into the yard.

He went back in and started cleaning up the blood and brain matter from the floor. After cleaning it up, he went to his mother and cleaned her head and the cuts on her face.

She was still not lucent and only mumbled incoherently. He took some sassafras root and bark down from the cabinet, placed a small pot of water on the stove, and added small amounts of wood to the hot coals in the stove.

The pine ignited fast. He put the bark in the pot and waited. A short time later the sweet aroma of the root filled the room.

He took a cup of the golden liquid, tempered it with cold water, and took it to his mother. He raised her head and gave her small sips. She soon gained full consciousness and was alert.

Bill said, I don’t know what we will do now, Ma.

She said, Son, what you have to do is leave this country and go west. They will try to hang you if you stay. He was no count and deserved what he got, but they will take no account of that. Now go get the mule and drag his body up into the woods and bury him. Take care to cover the grave with leaves and brush.

Ma, I can’t leave you. What will you do?

I will make out. My main worry is your safety. Now do as I tell you. Go dispose of the body.

She knew were Silas hid money, behind a loose rock in the fireplace. She did not know where he got it, but she knew it was not by honest means. She thought that at least he would not beat Bill or her again, and gave a small sigh of relief.

She stood but on wobbly legs. After her head stopped spinning, she began to gather the possibles that Bill would need for his travels. She took down a slab of salt bacon and, with a knife, cut it in half. She then divided all her staples of food and put them into an empty flour sack. Then she took the patchwork quilt from his bed, then folded and rolled his clothes in it. She then took the spare kitchen utensils and placed them in the flour sack and tied the top.

Now exhausted and tired, she sat at the table to wait for her son. She let her mind wander and thought of the agony of nineteen hours of labor to give birth to her son, and thought every minute was worth it to have a son like Bill. It broke her heart to think of him leaving, but knew it had to be.

A short time later, Bill returned and said, That bastard had $30 on him.

She said, He had money, about $300, and he had to have stolen it. His guns are in the bedroom, and so are his saddlebags.

Bill went in and retrieved the guns, a .50-caliber cap and ball rifle made in Pennsylvania and two Colt Patterson’s .30-caliber pistols with four extra cylinders, a possibles bag, and powder horn.

His mother said, Take that big gray stud horse of his and what I have packed for you, and ride to Louisville. And when you get there, you can sell the horse. Board a steamboat for Saint Louis. You can pay for half and work loading wood for the remainder of the trip.

She said, I will tell folks you ran away, that he became angry and followed to bring you back. Then after a month or so, I will tell them that he had abandoned me. Then I will move into town and sell the farm. It’s in my name. So please don’t worry. I will be much better off, at least no one will be beating me. Now load up, come back and give me a kiss, and be gone.

Bill saddled the horse and loaded his supplies. His mother had given him the $300 and kept the $30.

He rode out into the night. The five miles to Louisville went by fast. He found a shallow ford in the Ohio River and crossed over and camped on the outside of town.

The next morning, he went down to the docks. After talking to a few men on the docks, he was told that the River Queen was disembarking at ten o’clock downriver to the Mississippi, then north to Saint Louis. And he would have to see the captain about passage.

Bill went to the local livery and sold the horse and saddle for $60. Bill placed all his money but $40 in his sock and walked back to the dock.

A man standing at the gangplank asked him what his business was. He said that he needed to see the captain. The man said, The captain is busy. You will have to talk to me.

A short stocky man from above called out, What seems to be the matter, Clem?

The boy says he has to talk to you. I told him you were busy.

The captain called out, State your business, son.

Bill was intimidated but meekly said that he wanted to book passage to Saint Louis.

The captain said, Ninety dollars.

Bill said, I only have $30, but I’m willing to work and will do anything for the remainder of the fair.

The captain said, Clem, does he look strong enough to handle freight and carry wood?

Clem said, He looks strong enough.

The captain said, Collect his money and assign him to the black roustabouts.

Clem said, Come aboard, son. He took Bill to the galley and said, Get a cup, a tin plate, and a spoon, and don’t lose it. That’s the only one you will get. He said, You will sleep on this deck, so stow your gear beside the galley wall, but your guns, put in a locker inside and keep the key. I’m going to let you sleep here so you’ll be sure to get fed, would not be right to put a white man below with the blacks.

He took Bill back to the dock where six blacks stood. He told them to show Bill what to do. After a short time, six freight wagons drove up. The blacks jumped on the freight like a duck on a June bug and started carrying it on board.

One of the blacks said, Grab something or Clem will be all over you. Bill started carrying boxes on board. After an hour, the boat was loaded,