Page 19 of Sure as Shooting

“Yes, we will find more guides,” Whit responded, and there seemed to be some import to this exchange.

Major Ashbury continued, “Vowchester said, ‘Their hiding places are many. The other tribes dare not make war upon the Grizzlies, for they are as lawless and strong as the grizzlies. We are afraid to go into that valley, for there are many witches there.’”

Belle dared to venture, “Witches? In the Ahwahnee Valley, do you mean?”

Both men looked at her avidly. “Yes, yes. The Ahwahnee!” Whit added, “Do you know much about it?”

Belle chuckled. “I know there are no witches there. Of course they just want you to think all of that superstitious nonsense to keep you out.” Her face went sour, for she did not like to think about such things, but these two men were now her protectors, so she should learn to trust them. There was no hope of returning to her tribe—she must learn to readjust to the society of white men. “The tribe that attacked my party near the saline lake has since moved into the Ahwahnee Valley, and we visited with them a few times. It’s hardly impenetrable, unless you were to try and haul cannons and wagons. There are beautiful plummeting waterfalls, exquisite rock formations where boulders tumble from great heights.”

“You’ve been there?” Whit’s passion was palpable, and it recalled to Belle the thrill she’d felt upon viewing the valley for the first time.

“Yes, a few times. The easiest access down to the valley floor is from an opening just west of Kusoko, a giant towering spire like a cathedral.” Whit’s eyes were so glassy with fervor, Belle added, “The rock walls are carved in shiny vertical furrows, and even loftier peaks are crowned in the most ravishing gray granite. It truly is something to behold!”

“Tell me about the waterfalls!” Whit insisted, but Major Ashbury had more pressing military questions.

“Do you know if—” He paused, then seemed to think better of his phrasing. “Was it Chief Tenaya’s band who murdered your party near the lake?”

Belle paused, too. She had assumed Major Ashbury was hunting down Tenaya, leader of the Grizzlies. She had no wish to be a turncoat, but then again, Major Ashbury was correct. “Yes,” she said. “He later apologized to me for killing my daughter, husband, and twelve others in our party. He tried explaining it was just their way to discourage white men from entering California.”

Ashbury’s eyes flashed with anger. “And to gain plunder. I’m sure his apology didn’t ease your loss.”

Anger flared once again in Belle’s breast, too. “Not one bit! To see your infant’s skull smashed into pulp by some barbarians after having made it so far across the Great Plains? No, at every opportunity I tried to convince my tribe to refrain from joining with the Grizzlies. Although,” she said to Whit, “they do inhabit the most glorious chasm on Earth. Or should I say Eden?”

“Miss Belle,” said Ashbury. “Would you consider accompanying our campaign—”

His last words were drowned out, however, by the arrival of a very feral, ruffian Spanish fellow. He sped up on short bandy legs as though propelled by tiny motors under his boots. He made a beeline for Whit with hands outstretched into claws, so sudden that Belle grasped the physician by the shoulders to steer him out of harm’s way.

The fellow, however, only seemed intent on delivering a message. “There’s a new patient for you in your tent, Doc! Poor old yokel from over Timbuctoo way was just attacked by red devils. He’s stuck through one knee and shoulder blade, proving they shot him in the back when he was trying to retreat. Let’s make haste.”

The speedy fellow saluted Major Ashbury. “I’ve already signed up for duty, Major.” Just as quickly his demeanor changed, and he made a swipe for the doctor’s arm again. Belle maintained her clutch upon her protector, so the doctor was yanked in both directions. Belle didn’t know who this impolite, corn-fed hick was, but he could not bust in and snatch away the one man in California who cared about her.

His fiercely frowning eyes latched onto her, and he suddenly froze. His grip must have frozen as well, for Whit was able to extricate himself from the talons, and Belle hugged the doctor close to her bosom.

“Now listen, here, Bud,” said Major Ashbury. “The doctor has to sign up for duty first, and then he can—”

“Belle,” Bud whispered.

“Bud,” said Belle, but it was more the shape of her mouth than a sound.

How can this be?Bud is dead. He’d walked away last winter from their ramshackle bivouac in the mountains to find help and didn’t return before Indians snatched her. The Indians had assured her they had seen no other white man, and it was impossible for him to make it out of the mountains with his supplies and know-how, or lack of them. They had told her of a Captain Ashbury who knew everything there was to know and had claimed that even this captain, the King of the Tulareños, had never seen a white man of that description staggering out of the Sierra.

“You know this fellow?” Whit asked.

“Bud,” she said again, and this time a sound emanated from her mouth.

All at once the siblings rushed at each other. Bud, although shorter than his older sister by nearly a foot, lifted her off the ground and swung her about. They cried each other’s names over and over. Belle squeezed her brother so tightly she probably cut off his breath, and then she plastered many loud kisses to his dirty cheek.

When they at last separated by a few inches, Belle squealed, “A Spaniard! I thought you were a Spaniard!”

“And I thought you were a goddamned Injun!” Bud shrieked back.

He looked at least five years older now, his skin weathered like the buckskin leggings Major Ashbury wore. His hair had grown long about his neck and stuck out like a haphazard hay bale in all directions. He would be only twenty and nine now, but in the past year his nose had broadened, his lips were parched and peeling, and he looked altogether like a Far West roughneck.

“This is your brother?” Whit asked in amazement.

Major Ashbury sounded more chagrined. “This is your brother?”

Whit added, “I’ve been travelling with this fellow since San Francisco! He was very helpful in the engagement at Battle Mountain.”