ships log of GT281

Journey Days of Henry McAlister

2012-01-27T14:15:00.001-06:00

                                    CHAPTER TWENTYTHREE
                                   Chapter twenty-three-part two

     “You’ve got quite a calamity here,” remarked the Captain. “What was your name?”

     “Henry sir. Are you sure she’s going to be all right?” Henry said to the doctor, who was hovering over Katherine.
     “Yes, yes she’ll be fine, she just needs some hot food, and plenty of it.”
     “Listen here Henry, what happened? Where is everybody?”
     “What happened! Can’t you see what happened? The train exploded, it near killed everybody and we’ve been all alone here for…what day is it?”
     “It’s November 14th.”
     “My God, we’ve been here three months. Why didn’t you come sooner?”
     “No one knew you were up here, everyone thought that the train had made it into Skagway, that is until Mr. Hansen was found by a pair of trappers along the trail north of Whitehorse.”
     “Mr. Hansen? He and Mr. Wells set out weeks ago, what happened?”
     “He was found half frozen in the snow, and taken down to Whitehorse. He was unconscious for some time, no one knew who he was or where he came from. Most thought he was a prospector that had gotten himself lost. After a couple of weeks, he started mumbling about you folks on the train here.”
     “How is he?”
     “The fever got him, the other fellow never made it off the trail.”
     “Oh, that was Warren Wells.”
     “Are you the only ones left?”
     “Well, there’s me and Katherine, and the porter, Isaiah, and Pierre.”
     “We found the porter, where’s this Pierre?”
     “He stays in the caboose.”
     “Come along then, let’s go see if we can find him,” order Captain Oakland. “She’ll be alright son, let the Doctor handle it.”
     Sergeant Mac Elroy knocked on the caboose’s door while the Captain and Henry waited on the platform. Henry watched the other rescuers unloading the supplies and setting up camp fires, and scurrying into the train, each of them gawking at the destruction that was strewn along the track.
     “Kick it in Sergeant,” order Captain Oakland, after there was no response from the knocking. “You wait here Henry.”
     The Captain and the Sergeant entered the caboose’s small darkened cabin, their eyes adjusting to the bleak darkness within. The floor was littered with the remains of animals, skins, hides and bones were plied in every corner, a small pile of broken pine limbs were stacked near the cold wood stove.
     “Aggg, the odor in here, how could anyone,” said Sergeant Mac Elroy.
     “Well he’s not here, Sergeant look around. Henry, is this the last place you saw him?”
     “I’ve never been in here before, I think I talked to him about a week ago in the train, we had an arrangement, he was to hunt for Katherine and me.”
     “An agreement huh?”
     “Captain, over here,” Sergeant Mac Elroy said, gesturing towards a pile of bones in the corner.
     “What is it?”
     “I think you should have a look at this sir,” said Sergeant Mac Elroy, holding a human skull in his hands.
     “What the? Henry, Henry get in here,” shouted Captain Oakland. “What do you make of this? Is this what happened to all the passengers? What do you know about this? Where’s Pierre?”
     “I…I…I don’t know anything about that sir, like I told you I’ve never been in here, Pierre was the only one who came in here,” a disgusted Henry said.
     “What happened here Henry, tell the truth,” an angry Captain Oakland shouted.
     “Did you have anything to do with this? Tell the truth boy, it’ll go easier on you at the trial. They may only hang you.”
     “I am telling you the truth. I don’t know anything about what happened in here. You’ve got to believe me.”
     “So, Pierre was supposed to supply you with food huh? Is this the way he did it, by murdering the passengers one by one and cutting them up for stew? Is that what happened boy? Did starvation make you and Pierre do it?”
     “No! I didn’t do anything. You don’t think Pierre gave me…” Henry said stumbling out of the cabin and wrenching up his stomach over the iron railing.
     “All right boy, all right. Tell me about Pierre.”
     “He told me his name was…” Henry said, wiping the bile from his mouth. “He said his name was Pierre D’Lamont. I thought he was a trapper or a prospector.”
     “D’Lamont? A big man with a red beard and black as coal eyes? Is that him?”
     “Yes, how do you know?”
     “Oh we in the RCP have heard about him, he’s wanted in regards for the disappearance of his partner Emmett, a year or so back. We know of him and we’re going to get him too.”
     “You don’t think he gave me human…” Henry paused at the sickening thought. “Did he? You can’t tell Katherine about this…she’s in a bad way…and she…”
     “Don’t worry son, the Sergeant and I will keep this quiet, and I’m sure the railroad doesn’t want this type of thing to be spread about. Bad for business. But you’ll have to fill out a report once we get back to Whitehorse.”
     “Yes, yes of course, just so long as Katherine doesn’t find out.”
     “Sergeant gather up those remains to use as evidence against Pierre when we catch him. And we will, we always get our man.”
                                                                      #
To be continued.......

Journey Days of Henry McAlister

2012-01-24T05:12:00.001-06:00

                        Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                              CHAPTER TWENTYTHREE
                        Chapter twenty-three-part one

     Henry piled the last of the firewood he had pried loosed from the snow and ice that encased the wrecked passenger car into his arms and plodded his way back through the snow drifts, stopping suddenly at hearing a cracking echo from the valley. The second echo caused Henry to drop the firewood and race towards the train, listening for the faint sound of what he was sure was a shotgun blast. Henry steadied himself atop of the ice and snow covered passenger car, and looked towards where he thought the sound had come from. He could barely make out the jagged moving forms of three dog sled teams heading towards him in the distance. ‘Hello, hello’ he shouted into the wind, ‘over here’, and jumped down into the snow bank that surrounded the train. ‘Katherine, they’re here, they’re here’, he shouted as he raced down the aisle to his cabin, his snow covered boots slipping on the wooden planks.
     “Kay they’re here, they’ve come,” shouted Henry, shaking Katherine to wake her.
     “What? Go away Henry, let me sleep.”
     “No Katherine! Wake up, we’re rescued, they’re here, I saw them. Wake up.”
     Henry left Katherine and raced towards the back of the train, the figures were more distinct now, three teams of sled teams hurrying towards them, their sleds loaded with supplies and the dogs straining to gain another foot forward along the buried train tracks. Henry fired his revolver into the air and shouted ‘over here, over here’.
     “Good God man, you’re alive,” said Captain Frank Oakland of the RCP, jumping from his sled in front of Henry. “We feared the worst. You men there, check inside.”
     “Hurry, hurry, Katherine’s in need of help, she’s in a bad way,” pleaded Henry. “You must hurry.”
     “Calm down man, we’re here now. We’ve brought a doctor,” Captain Oakland said, following Henry into the train.
     “There she is, do something!”
     “Doctor, Doctor, over here. What’s your name? Are there any others? Sergeant Mac Elroy, unload the supplies and get some fires going, heat up some food,” ordered the Captain.
     “How’s Katherine? How is she?” Said Henry. “Do something”
     “Calm down boy,” said the Doctor. “I’ve given her a shot, it should help. She’s emaciated and weak, but her heart sounds strong.”
     “What’s that mean?” Asked a frustrated anxious Henry.
     “It means she needs some hot food and care. I think she’ll be fine, it appears we arrived in time.”
     “Where are the others?” Asked Captain Oakland.
     “Captain, we found someone, it appears to be the porter.”
     “Doctor come with me,” ordered Captain Oakland.
     “No! What about Katherine?” Pleaded Henry.
     “Calm down boy, let the medicine do its work, I’ll be back in a few minutes,”
said the Doctor.
    Henry knelt in front of Katherine, rubbing her hands, “Kay can you hear me?” He said softly.
    “Huh? Oh it’s you Henry.”
    “They’re here, we’re saved,” smiled Henry, tears streaking into his beard.
                                                              #
To be continued.........

2011-12-29T07:33:00.001-06:00

                               Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                        CHAPTER TWENTYTWO
                                     Chapter twenty-two-part five

     “Hmmm, isn’t the fresh air wonderful?” Said Katherine, as they walked towards the rear of the train..
     “Yes it is, crisp and clear,” Henry said.
     “This place must be quite lovely in the summer, with the field and trees in full bloom and the river flowing by,” noted Katherine, pointing towards the grey snow topped mountain range in the far distance.
     “Yes I suppose it would be, except right now it’s filled with this, this white stuff. I hope I never have to deal with snow again. I think we should live somewhere where the weather is perfect every day of the year,” said Henry, tossing a snowball towards the train wreckage in the stream.
     “You missed,” laughed Katherine. “You’re not a very good pitcher.”
     “Yes well, hopefully I won’t have to make a living at tossing snowballs.”
     “You know Henry, San Francisco has almost perfect weather year round, and it never snows there, the only bad thing it is that it has a lot of dreadful hills. Up and down, up and down.”
     “If the weather’s perfect than we’ll put it first on our list of places to live, and we can go everywhere by carriage,” Henry tossed another snowball, the mass of white smashing against the submerged smokestack.      “See!”
     “Ha, ha, ha. What’s that over there Henry?”
     “Where? Henry said, shielding his eyes from the sun’s glare and looking in the direction Katherine was pointing.
     “Over there, under that small tree. It looks like a hat.”
     “You wait here, I’ll go and get it…yep it’s a hat,” shouted Henry, dusting off the snow from the hat’s brim. “It’s Vinton’s hat, and here’s a whiskey bottle.”
     “You don’t think he came out here at night do you?”
     “I don’t know, I hope not, he was in no condition to do anything the last time I saw him,” said Henry, stuffing the hat into his coat.
     “Didn’t Pierre say he would be gone for a couple of days?” Questioned Katherine, looking towards the caboose.
     “Yes why?”
     “Look Henry, there’s smoke coming from the chimney.”
     “Maybe he left the stove full of wood when he left and it hasn’t burn thought yet,” said Henry, watching the black smoke puffing from the caboose’s smokestack. “Anyway, if he’s still here, he doesn’t want to be disturbed. At least that’s the way it was the last time I knocked on his door. I knocked as hard as I could, and I think he was in there then too. We best not pry, I’m not so sure about him. Come along, let’s go and see if we can find Vinton.”
     “You go in and take your snow covered coat off and get warm by the fire,” said Henry, outside his cabin. “I’ll search the rest of the train for Vinton.”
     “I can’t imagine where he would have gone.”
     “And don’t forget to…”
     “Yes I know, lock the door.”
                                                               #
     “What is it girl?” Said Preston Sawhill, seeing his horse’s head rear-up and halting along the snow covered trail. “John over here, there’s something half-buried in the snow.”
     Preston knelt beside the two prone figures lying along the trail, brushing back the fallen snow, uncovering the still bodies of Virgil and Warren.
     “Jehovah! It’s two men, quick John help me. This one’s still alive.”
     “Look at em,” exclaimed John Hosfield. “I’ve never seen a man frozen before, he’s blue.”
     “Stop your gawkin’ and get some blankets, while I start a fire.”
     “I can’t move this one, he’s frozen to the ground.”
     “Never mind him, we maybe can save the other one, hurry man.”
                                                              #
     Henry sat dejected on the bench opposite Katherine, watching her frail sleeping figure and regretting he was unable to do more. Gone was her vibrant glow, her hair a tangled unkempt cluster of curls, her arms appeared as ashen gawk limbs jutting out from a body that once breathed air into every room it entered. Katherine had seemed to Henry to have given up, the stain of being trapped on the train had become too much for her, she spent her time propped up into the corner of the bench, sleeping. She was even disinterested in eating the meager food that he could find or that Pierre would bring. The two small stoves, nestled in their corners, perked out the last of their heat. ‘time to gather some more wood’, Henry thought, putting on his coats and looking back at Katherine. How much longer, before…
                                                             #
To be continued...

2011-12-19T15:02:00.001-06:00

                           Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                               CHAPTER TWENTYTWO
                             Chapter twenty-two-part four

     “I thought I’d find you here,’ said Henry to Isaiah, who was sitting behind the bar.
     “Nowhere in particular to go, this is my post. Can I get you a drink sir?”
     “No thank you Isaiah, I just came here to give you this,” Henry said unwrapping a fist sized hunk of meat from its cloth cover.
     “Lordy, that’s, that’s real meat sir,” smiled Isaiah, taking the meat and smelling its flavorful aroma. “But sir, what about…?
     “Never you mind, Katherine and I are fine, we wanted you to have this. Maybe it will help.”
     “It surely will sir Henry, how can I ever thank you,” Isaiah said, biting off a piece of meat and slowing savoring it’s taste. “Lordy, I thought I’d never taste meat again. Can I get you something? How about some coffee? Can I make you and the misses some coffee?”
     “No, no Isaiah, we’re fine,” Henry said, raising his palm to quiet Isaiah’s excitement. “Where’s Vinton?”
     “Oh, I haven’t see Mr. Wright since that day when he found Mr. Bridgewater’s body missing. I suspect he’s in one of the cabins.”
     “I’ll go see if I can find him, I have some meat for him too.”
     “Thank you sir, thank you,” Isaiah said pressing the meat to his lips and inhaling all he could of its meaty flavor.
     Henry found Vinton in a drunken sleep in cabin number 5, an empty whiskey bottle clinched in his hand.
     “Vinton, wake up,” shouted Henry, shaking Vinton’s shoulder. “Wake up, I brought you some food.”
     “Uggg…”
     “Wake up, wake up, will you?”
     Henry waited for any reaction, shook his head and left the meat on the bench opposite the snoring Vinton.
     “Well I think we have a friend for life in Isaiah,” said Henry to Katherine when he returned to their remodeled cabin.
     “I certainly do hope it helps them. What about Mr. Wright?”
     “I found him passed out in a cabin and left the meat for him. He’ll find it when he wakes up.”
                                                               #
     “Your beard is getting long again Henry.”
     “Oh, oh yes,” replied Henry, scratching his facial growth. “Do you like it?”
     “Well I’m not sure, it’s very unkempt and makes you look so much different.”
     “I can try and shave it if you’d like.”
     “No it will be all right…for now.”
     “I had a curious dream last night,” said Henry. “Do you want to hear about it.”
     “Hmm…”
     “My dream, do you want to hear it?”
     “Oh yes, of course, go ahead Henry.”
     “I dreamt I was back in the Yukon, digging for gold again, and everywhere I dug I would always find one of those hardtack biscuits I told you about. The curious thing is that when I ate one, they where filled with jam and cream.”
     “Henry, I think you’re hungrier than you’ll admit, hardtack biscuit filled with cream,” laughed Katherine.
     “Well, that’s what I remember anyway. What about you?”
     “I must admit I dream about food too, only it’s Thanksgiving time and all the family is seating around a giant table. Everyone is laughing and having a great time. The table is filed with turkeys, and hams, corn and cakes, fresh baked bread. Just about anything you could imagine.”
     “Stop it, stop it,” replied Henry. “You’re making me hungry, now all I’ll think about is eating turkey and ham. Mother always used to make the sweetest baked ham, when we could afford it.”
     “Well, you’re the one who brought it up, serves you right. There were mountains of potatoes with gravy too,” laughed Katherine.
     “Stop it, or I’ll…or I’ll come over there and kiss you with my scratchy beard.”
     “Turkey, turkey, turkey.”
     “Yes I think you’ll definitely have to shave that beard when we get out of here. It scratched.”
     Henry smiled, holding Katherine close and looking at the bright sunshine that entered through the small crack above the wooden slats on the windows.
     “It looks like it mite be a sunny day today, would you like to get out and walk around the train for a while, just to get out and stretch your legs?”
     “That sounds wonderful Henry.”
     “You bundle up and I’ll go see what it’s like outside,” said Henry donning his hide coat.
Henry returned a few minutes later and said, “Come along Miss turkey, turkey, turkey.”
                                                              #
To be continued...

2011-12-13T06:34:00.001-06:00

                           Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                 CHAPTER TWENTYTWO
                             Chapter twenty-two-part three

     Henry wadded through the knee deep snow, his moose hide coat wrenched tightly around his body with his rifle tucked inside, to keep it from freezing, the snow clung in misshaped clumps on his fur wrapped boots, making every new step heavier then the one before. Fallen tree limbs hidden beneath the snow, would reach out and cause him to stumble and fall. The wind walked across the barren branches of the trees above him, kicking off the accumulated snow, the flakes drifting in front of him in shimmering veils of white powder. Henry watched an eagle flirt past the sun and wished that it was as easy for him to walk through the snow as it was for the eagle to gracefully float thought the blue sky. It was well past when the sun was highest overhead that Henry saw the fresh trail of hoof prints in the snow. ‘A herd of caribou’ he thought, he followed the trail into a small ravine, its sides lined with aspen and fir trees, ahead of him he saw three caribou just beyond a fallen tree, they were rooting at the snow, searching for the frozen grass that was hidden underneath. Henry steadied his rife against the crook of a tree branch and sighted the biggest animal, their heads quickly tuned in the direction behind them, and they bounded off quicker than Henry had ever seen such a large animal do before. The wolves bayed and their black shapes raced through the forest, past where the caribou had been standing, howling as they chased down their prey. Henry flattened against the back of the tree, feeling unprotected and exposed as he held himself taut against its width.
                                                                  #
     Henry cursed himself for not having been able to get any game, he wondered how long Katherine could survive without any real food. ‘It couldn’t be much longer’ he thought. The silhouette of the train against the mountainside was a welcome view, he vowed that he would go out again and again until he was successful. Katherine waved from the platform of the passenger car when she saw Henry emerge past the tree line. Henry waved his rifle in the air and shouted. A golden haired angel.
                                                                #
     “Henry, Henry, I’m so glad you made it back, I was so worried,” Katherine said happily. “It’s wonderful, it’s wonderful, hurry Henry hurry.”
     “What is it?” Asked Henry, taking off his snow covered coat and entering their cabin. Henry immediately glanced over to the pot of boiling meat on the small stove, its aroma filled the small cabin, and was shocked and gladdened.
     “It’s food Henry. Pierre brought it by this morning while you were gone,”
Katherine perked. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
     “It’s, it’s wonderful. Grimney,” Henry said, sipping a spoonful of broth. “It tastes wonderful, like nothing I’ve ever had before. Let’s eat, I’m starved.”
     “You go ahead Henry, I’ve already had some. I’m afraid I couldn’t wait,” said Katherine, handling a bowl to Henry and stabbing a chunk of meat in the pot.
     “Hmmm, it is good,” Henry said, hungrily eating the hot meat. “What kind of meat is it? Did Pierre say?”
     “He said it was a mixture of beaver and raccoon. Have some more Henry. Pierre said he would bring some more by in a day or so,” smiled Katherine.
     “I guess I was wrong about Pierre, he did get us some food.”
                                                               #
     Katherine stood in the passage way, anguished and worried about the events that were occurring inside her small cabin. The sounds of a broad axe biting into wooden planks filled her ears, her eyes watched as Henry, his strength renewed, fought against the wall dividing Katherine’s cabin and the empty cabin beyond. The planked wall groaned and resisted Henry’s axe, splinters and shards of once proud planks, danced in the air and shattered their whirling flights onto the cabin floor.
     “Henry, Henry, be careful.”
      Henry paused and smiled, sweat and wood dust covering his arms and said, “It’s got to go, this cabin is too small to be living our trapped lives in.”
     “Henry the railroad will get mad at your destroying the cabins.”
     “I don’t care, I’ll buy the whole railroad if I have to, I’ll pay anything if it gets us out of here one day sooner.” Henry rested the broad axe on the remains of the bench and said, “It’s fun.”
     Henry vented his anger and frustration on the wooden walls, making it yield to his design. The opening grew and grew and soon the wall and the benches were piled in ragged heaps of splintered memories, ready to be tossed into the stoves.
     “There,” Henry said, prying up the last plate that was nailed to the train’s floor and beating the pointed nails into submission. “Once I clean up this mess, we’ll have a little more room to move around in, it won’t be such a tiny box, will it?”
     “Well, it certainly is…is bigger,” a half-smile passed over Katherine’s face. “And you made a lot of firewood.”
     “You’ll see, it will make things brighter, you’ll see,” said Henry tossing the wooden remains into the far corner.
     Katherine bent down and began to help Henry with cleaning the debris from what once was her small cabin and Henry said, “Don’t Kay, there are a lot of sharp pieces in here, I’ll take care of it, you wait in the corridor, it will only take a minute.”
     “All right, but be careful.”
     “Just like a woman,” laughed Pierre. “Always doing some alliterating. That’s a fine cabin of firewood you have there Henry.”
     “Oh my, you startled me. I didn’t even notice you come through the door,” said Katherine.
     “Us D’Lamonts have been know to be silent and crafty,” smiled Pierre. “It helps in the hunt. Here I brung you some more meat.”
     “Thank you,” said Henry, wiping the dust from his hands and face. “We certainly are grateful.”
     “No need to be grateful, just remember our bargain,” said Pierre, with a broad smile.
     “Enjoy, I’ll be gone for a couple days and should return with more for ya.”
     “I was thinking, Pierre, maybe I could come with you. Two hunters are better than one,” said Henry.
     “NO! Said Pierre. “I mean, you have the young misses to look after and who knows what I might run into. It’s best if you keep near the train, what’s left of it.”
     “Aren’t you afraid being out there by yourself, what with the wolves roaming near by?” Asked Katherine. “Henry told me about the wolves he saw while he was hunting.”
     “Me? Scared? Naaggh, if them wolves should come towards me, well there’ll just be more to eat, won’t there?” Laughed Pierre.
     “This meat is cooked,” said a puzzled Henry.
     “That’s right, I cook it at night…over the campfire. Less weight to haul around with the sinew and bones removed,” remarked Pierre, turning to leave.
     “Thank you, thank you,” Katherine said, watching Pierre leave the passenger car.
     “Well, I had better hurry and clean up this place so we can eat.”
     “Henry, what about Vinton and Isaiah? We said we were going to give them some.”
     “Yes we will, after you’ve had your fill. We’ll leave some for them. As you said, it is the Christian thing to do, I hope it helps,” Henry said, returning to sorting through the debris of the two cabins.
                                                              #
To be continued...

2011-12-05T12:01:00.003-06:00

                             Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                 CHAPTER TWENTYTWO
                              Chapter twenty-two-part two

     The sound of Henry banging on the rear door of the caboose died in the snow covered hillside, Henry banged on the door again and attempted to view inside, only to find that that small window had been boarded over from the inside.
     “Pierre, Pierre! Are you in there?” Henry shouted against the face of the wooden door, its peeling colors painted in ice. “We have to talk, we have an arrangement. I know you’re in there. Come out here!”
The wind was the only response he heard, as he stood on the caboose’s platform.
     “I know you’re in there, come out, we have a arrangement. You’ll have to do better than this if you want your money,” Henry shouted, kicking the door in disgust.
     Pierre sat in the darkened room rocking slowly in the old wooden chair, the last of his cigars between his teeth and a smile on his lips. He watched Henry’s shadow figure through the slats as Henry climbed down the small iron steps and disappear around the corner. The caboose’s small stove bubbled its heat into the room and Pierre stirred the boiling stew pot, freeing the meat from the bones. Pierre grabbed a boot from a pile of bloody clothes carpeted the floor, and tossed it into the belly of the stove, it crackled and hissed as it settled into the hot coals. Pierre laughed to himself and threw the last of his cigar in with it. ‘enough for three, if a man be of a mind’, he thought. His laughter filling the dark room.
     “Did you talk to Pierre?” Asked Katherine.
     “No! I know he was there I could see smoke coming from his chimney, and I thought I could smell something cooking. He’s a damn bastard, how long did he think that rabbit would last? Where’s my rifle?” Said Henry, his mind set on doing what he should have been doing all along, hunting.
     “What are going to do Henry?” Katherine said, frightened by Henry’s determined actions.
     “I’m going hunting, and I ain’t coming back until I get something for the both of us, I can’t just sit here and see you waste away like this, I should of…I should be out there hunting, we can’t survive on someone else’s promises.”
     “Henry please don’t go, it’s almost dark and you’ll freeze out there at night, or worse, with those wolves around.”
     “I can’t just sit here no more, it’s time for me to do something,” a dejected Henry said, plopping onto the bench, unable to look at Katherine.
     “Henry not tonight, please, wait until morning. I don’t think I could sleep if you were out there at night, please wait until morning.”
     Henry reached across the space between the bench and clasped Katherine’s hand. “All right, but from tonight on, we have to think of ourselves as…as being shipwrecked all alone on an island or something, just the two of us. We have to do whatever we have to from now on, We can’t rely on anybody but ourselves. No matter what it takes.”
     “Yes Henry, I understand, whatever we have to, to survive.”
                                                                       #
To be continued...

2011-11-30T10:56:00.001-06:00

                            Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                   CHAPTER TWENTYTWO
                                 Chapter twenty-two-part one

     “It’s gone all right,” said Henry, warming his hands over the stove. “I looked all around the train for tracks or blood, I didn’t see anything, he’s just gone.”
     “I doubt there would be any blood, Henry, the poor man must have been frozen solid by now.”
     “Yes I know. I was just sayin’. Why where you in the storage car?” Henry said leaning over Vinton, who sat on the bench, moaning, with his head in his hands.
     “I was…I…well if I have to tell you, I was looking for something to eat. A rat or a mouse, like the porter was talking about last night. I thought maybe…”
     “Oh, ahhh well. Did you see anything?” Henry said quietly.
     “No I didn’t see nothing, when I lit the lantern I noticed that Mr. Bridgewater’s body was gone, and I got out of there as quick as I could.”
     “Do you think it could have been those wolves again Henry?” Asked Katherine.
     “I didn’t see any tracks or claw marks. Vinton when you went to the storage car was the door closed?”
     “Yea it was closed, but it opened right easily. Then I got out of there.”
     “Isaiah, I thought the storage car was always to be locked.”
     “Yes sir, it normally is, but after the accident, Mr. Buchanan said it was to not be locked again so’s everyone could get anything they wanted from it.”
     “Well I don’t know what happened then, he couldn’t have walked off,” a puzzled Henry remarked.
     “It must have been them wolves again,” said the Porter.
     “Must have been,” said Vinton. “They got him, and they’re gonna get us too, if we’re not careful. We had best board up the windows and lock the doors. They must be loco, mad with hunger. I ain’t gonna let them get me.”
     “Oh Henry, do we have to? It’s so dark in here already,” a worried Katherine said.
     “Maybe we should, just as a precaution.”
     Vinton was of little help securing the windows with broken bench slats, he had squirreled himself away in the corner of one of the benches with a whiskey bottle, moaning to himself, ‘they ain’t gonna get me’. Katherine did the best she knew how with splitting the slats with a hand axe and cleaning up after Henry and the porter as they went from window to window in the passenger car, ripping down the shades and nailing the fractured boards in place, the car gained more and more darkness with only slivers of sunlight streaming through the misaligned wooden cracks.
     When they had reached her cabin Katherine fretted and said, “Do we have to Henry?”
     “Yes, I think so,” replied Henry softly. “You can barely see out anyway, look how the snow has drifted up past the sill and all you can see is the mountain side.”
     “It’s just, it’s just that it’s so dark. It’ll seem like my coffin I’m sure.”
     “Please don’t think of it that way, Kay, I’ll leave the top uncovered. That’ll help wouldn’t it?”
     “Oh Henry, this is all my fault. We should of taken the steamer like you wanted. This isn’t very romantic at all,” cried Katherine, collapsing onto the bench.
     Henry looked at Katherine and then to the porter and said, “Come along, let’s get this over with, we still have three cabins to do.”
     “Ain’t you gonna…?”
     “It’s best she let it out. We can’t pretend like it’s some kind of adventure any more.”
                                                                #
To be continued...

2011-11-21T08:44:00.001-06:00

                           Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                CHAPTER TWENTYONE
                             Chapter twenty-one-part five

     Henry briskly rubbed Katherine’s hands trying to get some warm back in them and said, “Katherine I’m very mad at you, you shouldn’t have stayed out there so long. I shouldn’t have let you. Your hands are ice.”
     “Henry I had too. You don’t know what it’s like to stay in this cabin all day and all night,” Katherine said, her voice trembling as she spoke. “You get to go out, hunting and getting firewood, while I’m confined in here. I’ve read that damn book of mine five times. Excuse me for swearing Henry, but you just don’t know. I think I’ve memorized every line in that book. It’s cramped and smells like dead animals in here. Oh Henry, whatever are we going to do?”
     “I know, I know,” said Henry, wrapping his arms around Katherine. “I’m just trying to protect you, you’re the most precious thing to me. I’m sorry I got mad at you.”
     “Henry, it’s going to be all right, isn’t it? Someone will come won’t they?”
     “Of course they will, I bet someone’s already on their way,” lied Henry, something he had promised himself he wouldn’t do to Katherine. “And Pierre is going to help hunt for food, things will be better once we have more to eat, you’ll see. Tomorrow we’ll go and visit everyone in the passenger car, see what they think. Would that be all right?”
     “Yes Henry,” said Katherine, tears streaming down her cheeks.
     “Come on Kay, sit with me by the fire, you’ll feel better,” Henry said softly, pressing Katherine’s head against his shoulder while wrapping her tight into his body and caressing her.
                                                                #
     The passenger car was empty when Henry and Katherine entered the next morning. The wood stoves piped out a faint heat from their cast iron bellies, a number of the benches had been torn apart for their wood and sheets of icicles hung outside from the roof, glistening in the sunshine.
     “It’s a shame what’s been done to this car, it was a lovely dining car,” said Katherine.
     “I’m sure the railroad company can fix it up again. There doesn’t appear to be anyone here, do you want to go back to our cabin?” Noted Henry, leaning against the bar.
     Katherine looked out into the snow covered landscape and said, “No, let’s sit in here a while, I can see the trees and river from here, I’m so tired of looking at that mountainside from the cabin. It feels like a whole other world in this car.”
     “If you like. Maybe I can get that cook stove going and find some coffee.”
     “That would be wonderful.”
     Henry kicked the shattered remains of one of the booths and gathered up the broken slats and tuffs of horse hair, carrying them to the cook stove beside the bar. The cook stove was cold and hadn’t been lit for a few days, the door creaked as he opened it to look inside. Barren, except for ashes.
     “Can I help you with that sir?”
     Henry lurched back at the sound of Isaiah’s voice, knocking over the empty coffee pot that rested on the stove top.
     “Crimney, you scared the Jesus out of me. I thought you were a ghost or something,” stammered Henry. “What are you doing back there behind the bar? I didn’t see you.”
     “This is where I’ve been sleeping since Mr. Pierre said he wanted to stay in the caboose.”
     “What? You’ve been sleeping behind the bar? That’s’ nonsense.”
     “Henry’s right,” said Katherine, standing beside Henry. “You should move into one of the empty cabins.”
     “I don’t mind, misses.”
     “Now don’t be foolish, Isaiah,” said Katherine. “We insist that you move into one of the cabins, it’ll be safer and warmer, I’m sure.”
     “That’s right Isaiah, there’s no need for you to be sleeping on the floor.”
     “Well, I was kind of thinking about it, but I didn’t want to cause anyone a fuss.”
     “Nobody’s gonna get flustered,” said Henry. “And if they do, you come to me, I’ll see to it that their set straight. Have you seen Vinton or Pierre lately?”
     “Not since last night, when Mr. Wright was here. I haven’t see Mr. Pierre for a couple of days, don’t know what he’s about. Was you trying to get that stove started?” Asked Isaiah, poking his head into the stove.
     “Yes, I thought maybe I could get a fire going and find some coffee for Katherine and myself.”
     “I coulds do that for you sir. But I’ll have to grind you up some beans first. It mite take a while, and let’s not get this old beast a goin’, if you don’t mind I could use the stove in the corner, sir.”
     “That would be fine Isaiah, and it will also help to heat this cabin,” said Katherine.
     “Yes, ma’am.”
     The rear door of the passenger car swung open, nearly hitting Henry, as Vinton burst though, gasping for air.
     “It’s gone!”
     “What’s gone?” Asked Henry.
     “The body of Mr. Bridgewater, in the storage car. It’s gone,” panted Vinton, sitting down at one of the benches. “I need a drink, porter get me a drink.”
     “Never mind that. What do mean it’s gone? It can’t be gone. Criminy that man was dead. What were you doing in the storage car?” Demanded Henry.
     “It’s gone I tell you, go and look for yourself.”
     “I will. Katherine please stay here and you two don’t go nowhere,” said Henry rushing out the door.
                                                               #
To be continued...

2011-11-18T18:16:00.001-06:00

                           Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                             CHAPTER TWENTYONE
                         Chapter twenty-one-part four

     “How come you didn’t go with those other men, sir?” Asked Isaiah to Vinton, while fashioning a crude bed of blankets and furs on the floor behind the wooden bar.
     “Me? Why I could never make that trek, just look at me, do I look like someone who is comfortable being outside in the wilderness? I’m a salesman, inside buildings, stores and houses is where I belong, not in some God forsaken wilderness. How come you stayed?”
     “Oh I couldn’t go sir, my place is on the train. I’m the only train employee left now since everyone else is gone. I figure it’s my duty to do what I can for everyone and to look after things as best I can on the train.”
     “Ha, ha, that’s a good one niggra,” laughed Vinton. “Look after things, my God niggra, everything’s destroyed, there ain’t no train left.”
     “Yes sir, that’s rightly so. But it’s still my job to stay with the train,” said Isaiah wiping the dust from the bar top.
     “Why are you still tending to the bar? Ain’t nobody coming. We’re all that’s left, except for Henry and Katherine and that big fellow Pierre.
     “This is my post sir, and well…it helps if I keep busy, the days past quicker that way.”
     “You wouldn’t have any food back there would you, perhaps some bread or beans hidden away?”
     “Oh no sir, no sir. Everything was parceled out to everyone. There ain’t no store bought supplies left.”
     “Well what have you been eating then? I ate mine a long time ago, I never thought we’d be here this long. I’m starving, what have you been eating?”
     “This and that sir, can’t rightly say,” said Isaiah while packing the unbroken glasses into boxes.
     “You got to help me, I’m starving, I’d eat anything.”
     “That’s just it sir, anything.”
     “What?”
     “Anything sir. When I was young living with my family in Atlanta, my great-great-granny used to tell us about the times doing the Freedom War, after the Yankees had gone through and burned and taken everything. There wasn’t anything to eat then either, not a chicken or a pig, not even anything from the gardens. The Yankees had taken everything, like locusts they were, stripping everything from everywhere. Everyone was starving then too, and she said that the only thing to eat then was what she called ‘survival stew’”, explained Isaiah.
     “What’s that? Is that what you’ve been eating?” Asked Vinton, listening intently.
     “Yes sir, it’s what ya gots to do.”
     “Well what is it? Tell me man.”
     “It’s anything and everything. Anything that can be boiled in a pot. Pieces of hide and tree bark, pine needles and young pine cones. Bird’s nest if you can get at em. I killed a rat in the storage car the other day. Rats can be mighty tasty if you cook em right.”
     “That’s what you’ve been eating? Rats and hides?” Said a disgusted Vinton, his face contorting at the idea of eating rats. “I could never eat vermin.”
     “They ain’t so bad, once you skin em and take they heads off. We got a couple of bags of salt and sugar, it helps the taste a mite.”
     “That’s it? That’s what you’ve been eating? I can’t, I just can’t.”
     “Suit yourself sir, it ain’t no secret where I come from on what to do when food gets scarce, I guess that’s why my great-great-granny called it survival stew.”
                                                                       #
To be continued...

2011-11-14T06:22:00.002-06:00

                             Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                CHAPTER TWENTYONE
                              Chapter twenty-one-part three

     Henry stirred the pot of rabbit stew and watched Katherine’s slow breathing, her face calmly serene nuzzled against the brown fur of the caribou hide blanket. The fire crackled and hissed, emanating its warmth into the small cabin, pearl shaped droplet’s of water streaked down the small window and gathered on the window ledge, for a brief time melting the frost that had accumulated there.
     “Katherine, Kay, here drink this,” said Henry pressing a cupful of broth to her lips.
     “Huh? Is that you Henry? What is it?”
     “It’s stew, drink it.”
     Katherine’s eyes brightened as she finished the broth, saying, “Where’d this come from?”
     “It’s a rabbit from that fellow Pierre.”
     “A rabbit? That seems strange that he would give you a rabbit when food is so scarce. It was very charitable of him.”
     “Well, it wasn’t exactly charity that got him to do it,” said Henry, explaining his business agreement with Pierre. “With the two of us hunting for food I’m sure we can make it through this. Now, I want you to eat.”
     “Henry are you going to eat?”
     “Of course I am, I’m starving.”
                                                                #
     Vinton craned his neck out the window watching Virgil and Warren, burdened with what supplies they could find, trudge through the snow and disappear around the end of the caboose on their way towards Whitehorse. He was both hopeful at their leaving and trying to get help, and worried about his fate, alone on the train, his knowledge of hunting and of using a rifle was limited to just the tall tales that he would overhear in the saloons as he made his sales calls. ‘Accursed snow’ he thought.
     Henry and Katherine, standing outside near the end of the train, waved shouted ‘good luck’, to the men as they passed the end of the caboose, and watched until the two men had vanished beyond a bend in the railway line. Their tracks soon disappearing in the wind swept snow.
     “Come along Katherine, let’s get you inside where it’s warm.”
     Katherine tugged at the caribou hide drawing it tighter to her and said, “In just a minute Henry. Isn’t the fresh air wonderful? It’s so beautiful out here, so open. I sometimes feel like the walls of the cabin are closing in on me. Suffocating me, let’s stay out here for a few more minutes.”
     “If you want, but only for a few minutes, until you refresh yourself,” Henry said, stamping his feet in the snow.
     “Do you think they have a chance?”
     “I don’t know. They didn’t take much with them. If they can survive through the night, I don’t know.”
     “You’re going to stay with me aren’t you?”
     “What a darn fool question, I’m not leaving you. I’m never going to leave you, not now not ever. What a darn fool question. Come along, the cold must be affecting your thinking.”
     The small path beside the train had been trampled out by the men going hunting or wandering about, against the train the snow had drifted to over the top of man’s head and the riverside was only slightly better, avoiding a view of the scenery beyond, if a man raised himself as high as he could of his toes.
     “There’s not many of us left, is there Henry? I can’t help but think about the other men on this train. What are they going to do?” Said Katherine, careful with her steps on the ice covered ladder to the passenger car platform.
     “Yes I know, I’ve been thinking about that too. Things could get down right upsetting if they see that we have food and they don’t. I think maybe, we should share what we can with them. But no matter what happens you have to come first. I can’t have you starving because we gave some of our food to them.”
     “Yes Henry, it’s the only Christian thing to do.”
     “And you have to promise me that you’ll never leave the cabin unless I’m with you.”
     “Of course Henry, I’ve seen desperate men losing control of themselves, and that was over simple flakes of gold dust, I shutter to think what could happen because of the isolation and everyone starving.”
     “Good, I’m glad that you understand that things may become unruly and we both have to be careful.”
     “Yes Henry I do and I pray every night that this horrible experience will be over soon for all of us and I keep your derringer in my bag, just in case. Of course I could never shoot anyone, but it might scare them.”
                                                                        #
To be continued...

2011-11-08T12:43:00.002-06:00

                             Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                     CHAPTER TWENTYONE
                                 Chapter twenty-one-part two

     “Where do you think you’re off to darkie?” Asked Vinton, after seeing Isaiah come through the door carrying all of his belongings.
     “That big fellow, Mr. Pierre, says I had to move on account of he’s gonna stay in the Caboose car.”
     “What’s he want to be in there for? I guess he don’t want nothing to do with us, he wants to be alone,” quipped Vinton. “Well that’s fine with me, I never cared much for his manner anyway. You just keep your gear out of my way, and get me a drink.”.
     “Yes, sir, yes sir. I won’t be no trouble at all,” Isaiah said, stowing his belongings behind the charred wall of the bar. “Whiskey, sir?”
     “Yep, give me three fingers and leave the bottle, seein’ that it’s free now and it’s the only thing to drink around here.”
     “I could make you some fresh coffee sir.”
     “I never drink…coffee, it’ll rot your inners.”
                                                              #
     “They didn’t make it, there’s no hope of a rescue party now,” said Warren.
     “You don’t know that,” replied Virgil.
     “Then where’s the rescue party? It’s been twelve days, they should have been here by now, they’d have sleds and dogs. We can’t stay here any longer, I tell you. We have to get out while we have some strength left.”
     “And what? If they couldn’t make it…”
     “We’ll head towards Whitehorse, it’s almost all downhill, we have to.”
     “Maybe, I don’t know. What if we head out and the rescue party arrives?”
    “They ain’t coming I tell you. We have to head towards Whitehorse it’s our only chance. I’m leaving, you coming with me?”
     “I don’t know, I don’t know. They have to know something’s not right, we should of arrive at Skagway long ago.”
     “You heard what the conductor said, they may not even be expecting us.”
     “What about the telegraph lines, they have to be…”
     “Those lines? Their probably all down because of the storm, I’m going in the morning, with or without you.”
                                                                  #
To be continued...

2011-11-04T11:38:00.001-05:00

                          Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                               CHAPTER TWENTYONE
                           Chapter twenty-one-part one

     Henry quietly closed the door to the cabin and shook off the snow from his coat, the small wood stove barely giving out any heat into the cabin as Henry tried to warm his hands in front of its dying ember filled core.
     “Is that you Henry?” Asked Katherine, her eyes half open.
     “Yes,” said Henry solemnly.
     “Did you have any luck?”
     “No, I followed a lot of rabbit trails but I didn’t even get a shot off, I’m sorry.”
     “Don’t be sorry, you tried. I’m sure you’ll get something next time.”
     “I can’t stand it, this is terrible. My not being able too…”
     “Henry stop it, this isn’t your fault, stop blaming yourself, you’ll have better luck tomorrow, take your wet clothes off and rest.”
     “Maybe I will, how are you feeling?”
     “Fine, I’m just tired, I can’t seem to get warm,” Katherine said her eyes closing.
     “You can’t let the stove go out, you’ll freeze in here.”
     “I know dear, I’m just tired,” Katherine replied, pulling the hide blanket tighter under her chin while pulling her knees up closer and making herself smaller in the corner of the bench.
     “You just need some food, I’ll go out again tomorrow morning.”
     “I know, I know, let’s just rest for a little while, I’m so tired.”
     “Henry are you in there?” Bellowed Pierre from the corridor.
     “Yes, who is it, what do you what?”
     “It’s Pierre, I have something I’d like to talk to you about.”
     “Can’t it wait until morning? I’ve just returned from hunting.”
   “That’s what I want to talk to you about.”
     Henry quietly slid the cabin door shut behind him and said, “What’s so important that it can’t wait until morning?”
    “No need to get yourself riled up. I seen you come back. Looked to me as if you had no luck hunting.”
     “Yes that’s right, every critter is staying quiet because of the snow I suspect. I’ll be heading out again in the morning. All I saw was a few rabbit tracks that lead nowhere.”
     “It must be a heavy burden for you, what with you having your fiancée to take care of and all. I suspect that if it weren’t for her you would of gone along with Mr. Buchanan and tried to make it to Skagway.”
     “What’s your point? You said you had something you wanted to talk to me about, is that it?”
     “Easy boy. I’ve lived in mountains like these for almost twenty years now and I know every animal track and sign there is. I’ve lived and breathed in em, trapped and hunted most every kind of animal there is.”
     “So. So what?”
     “Well, seeing how we’re stuck here together I thought maybe I could ease your burden a mite and do some hunting for you and your fiancée.”
     “What? Why would you do that?”
     “I hear tell that you struck it rich in the Klondike and…”
     “Something like that, but not as much as people have been saying.”
     “I’m sure that’s true, I’d be willing to supply you and your fiancée with fresh meat for…”
     “How much? How much do you what?”
     “I’m a modest man of modest means but I have a have a hankering for some of the good life I’ve seen. Now that I’m older the wilderness is wearing on me.”
      “How much?” Said an agitated Henry.
      “As I’ve said I’m a modest man and the way I figure it there won’t be any of us getting out of here any time soon, so I figures I can supply you and your misses with enough fresh meat until we’re rescued, for two hundred dollars.”
      “Until we’re rescued for two hundred dollars?” Henry said, excitement and relief passing over his face.
      “Each.”
      “Henry stepped closer to Pierre and looked square into his eyes and said, “I don’t have that much on me, I had it all transferred to the First National Bank in San Francisco. I kept only enough for expenses on this trip.”
      “That’s right sensible of you and I suspected as much. No matter, you can pay me when we get to San Francisco. Course you’ll have to pay for my passage also.”
     “Very well, but how do I know you can live up to your side of the deal?”
     “Well,” laughed Pierre, “you can’t pay me iff’n your dead, now can you? I’ll see to it that you have enough to eat.”
     “If anything happens to Katherine, the deals off, is that understood?”
     “Of course. Here take this,” said Pierre, reaching into his hunting bag and retrieving a rabbit. “Snared it this morning, as you can see I mean what I’m about. It’ll be enough until I get back.”
     “Where are you going?”
     “I figured I’d move my belongings into the Caboose there, more private, seeings how the conductor’s not going to be using it any more, then I’ll be heading out. Hunting Henry, hunting, I have mouths to feed.”
     “What about the other passengers?” Asked Henry.
     “What about em? Oh, as I see it, they can fend for themselves, unlessen they have two hundred dollars,” laughed Pierre as he went down the passageway.
                                                              #
To be continued...

2011-11-02T09:44:00.001-05:00

                           Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                  CHAPTER TWENTY
                               Chapter twenty-part three

     “How is he?” Asked Henry to Virgil who now stood over the still body of Fenton, his shotgun open as he flipped the smoking shells onto the floor and reloaded his shotgun with shells taken from his coat pocket.
     “He’s dead,” replied Virgil calmly.
     “He ain’t dead, he’s still breathing, do something man.”
     Virgil knelt down over the bloody body, and listened to the man’s labored breathing and watched as the blood pulsed out of his neck with each heartbeat. The flow of blood slowed, then stopped. he listened as Fenton’s last gasp of breath barely caused the blood on the floor to move.
     “He’s dead,” restated Fenton as he stood up.
     Virgil stood at the bar pouring himself a drink from one of the bottles that still stood upright on the bar and said to the porter who huddled hidden on the floor behind the bar, “You can get up now, it’s over.”
     “Lordy, lordy, my Lord,” gasped the porter as he viewed the wreckage of bodies and furniture in the dining car, then he began unconsciously to wipe the bar top clear of its broken bottles and spilled whiskey.
    “There, there dear it’s over,” Henry said to Katherine, still in his arms, trying to comfort her.
     The hot smell of burning firewood filled the room as black smoke from the overturned stove continued to empty into the dining car.
     “Fire!” Screamed the porter, pointing towards the dislodged stove in the corner.
     Hot coals that had spilled from the open door of the stove ignited the spilled whiskey that had been strewn around the floor during the struggle with the wolf. Red and yellow flames quickly engulfed the body of the wolf and the torn curtains near the broken window. Virgil and Henry quickly rushed towards the flames trying to stamp them out but the liquor fueled fire continued to spread along the floor towards the wooden bar. Virgil ripped down a window curtain and began beating at the flames, the flames continued to creep towards the bar and up the sides of the dining car reaching to the ceiling.
     “Snow,” shouted Virgil. “Grab that firewood bucket Henry. Open the other door.”
     “No!! There’s wolves out there,” cried Katherine.
     Virgil ignored her pleads and opened the door as Henry handed him the firewood bucket. The porter climbed over the bar and joined Henry and Virgil in a line down the aisle of the dining car. Virgil hurriedly packed the snow from outside in the firewood bucket and then passed it to Henry who in turn passed it to Isaiah. Isaiah moved as close as he dared to the flames and dumped the snow onto the fire, stopping it with the frozen mixture. The men continued passing the bucket along the line, filling it with snow and returning the filled bucket to the flames. Bucket after bucket kept passing up and down the isle, the fire became smaller and smaller as each pound of snow was doused into it. Black smoke half filled the dining car from the extinguished flames and the hot firewood stove. Finally a last bucket of snow was thrown into the stove, smothering the hot coals. The men collapsed into the dining car booths as the black smoke swirled around the car driven by the icy wind coming in from the broken window.
     “Quite an eventful night,” muttered Virgil, straightening up and reaching into his inner coat pocket and pulling out a cigar.
     “Lordy, lordy,” an exhausted Isaiah sighed.
     “You can say that again,” Virgil responded.
     “Come on Kay, let me take you back to your cabin, you’ll be safe there.”
     “No!! I can’t be alone,” cried Katherine.
     “Come on Kay, let’s go,” said Henry holding her tight and guiding her towards her cabin.
     “We heard shots,” Warren excitedly said stepping into the dining car followed closely by Vinton. “What happened here?”
     “A wolf,” replied Henry while escorting Katherine through the doorway and into the adjoining car.
     “You two men missed all the fun,” remarked Virgil while pouring himself a drink and puffing on his cigar.
     “My God!” Exclaimed Vinton.
     “Ain’t no God here,” replied Vinton. “You two men pick up what’s left of Fenton there and take him someplace.”
     “Ah, where?” asked Warren.
     “Put him the storage car, I don’t care. Just get him out of here.”
                                                                    #
To be continued...

2011-10-29T11:53:00.005-05:00

                          Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                      CHAPTER TWENTY
                            Chapter twenty-part two

     Fenton stepped towards the side window and cleared away the moisture from the glass to view what was outside. As he peered into the darkness, a wolf’s head with its black eyes and white fangs appeared directly on the other side of the glass. Fenton jerked back from the window just as the wolf bounded through the glass. He staggered to his right between the booths and the bar as the wolf landed on the floor beside him. Its claws dragging into the wooden floor, it continued sliding until it ended in a heap along the wall. He scrambled to get as far away from the beast intruder as he could, knocking over plates and glassware on the tables and whiskey bottles that stood on the bar top. The porter, his eyes wide with fright at the sight of the wolf now crouched for an attack at the open end of the bar, could only hope that he wasn’t going to be its victim, he slowly knelt down and tried to make himself as small as possible to hide behind a case of whiskey that was stored on the floor. The wolf fixed its eyes of the retreating figure of Fenton and clawed its way towards him then leapt onto the Fenton’s back. The brute force of the wolf’s attack and its weight caused him to collapse onto the floor among the shattered bottles and dinnerware. His yells and screams of terror and pain fixated everyone on the frenzied blood soaked attack. Fenton pinned to the floor with the wolf tearing away at his back, neck and head, tried to reach behind him to dislodge the wolf, the wolf ignored his hands and fists to continue its attack on his shoulders and neck. Its fangs ripping away chunks of coat, flesh and muscle with Fenton’s blood spattering in every direction.
     “Shoot it, shoot it,” screamed Katherine.
     Virgil raced towards the rear of the dining car to retrieve his shotgun that stood in the corner, he hoped he would be quick enough to stop the wolf’s attack before it finished with Fenton and then turned on the rest of them. Henry awaked from his fixated trance of watching the horrifying scene just a few feet in front of him by Katherine’s screaming, pulled his revolver from under his coat jacket and fired twice at the black blood soaked shape that continued struggling on top of Fenton. The wolf paused for a moment from hearing the loud sounds of Henry’s revolver but none of the bullet’s stuck the wolf, instead they splintered into the face of the bar beside it. Again Henry fired his revolver, the bullet hitting the wolf in its rear leg, it recoiled from the shot for a few seconds as if to wonder what had struck its leg, it seemed to feel no pain from the wound. Virgil pushed Henry aside causing Henry to fall into a booth, then carefully raised and aimed his shotgun and pulled the trigger. The blast from the shotgun hit the wolf in the neck and shoulder, shattering the wolf’s left leg, it careened backwards, stumbling over the still body of Fenton, then turned in a half-circle on its three legs, its head slamming into the floor behind the last booth and flipped over onto its back. The body of the wolf slid along the floor crashing into the wall and knocking the small firewood stove off its stand and dislodging the stovepipe. The firewood stove tilted into the corner as its door opened exposing the hot coals inside, with black acrid smoke bellowing from the dislodged stovepipe. Virgil stepped past the body of Fenton towards the now still wolf and looked at it with its black eyes and blooded tongue hanging from its mouth and levered his shotgun at the animal. The second blast exploded the wolf’s head over the walls and floor. Henry straightened himself in the booth and went over to Katherine, he sat beside her and wrapped his arms around her holding her as tightly as he could. He would never have forgiven himself if he had allowed anything to happen to her. She buried her head into his shoulder, sobbing and shivering uncontrollably.
                                                              #
To be continued...

2011-10-26T07:05:00.001-05:00

                          Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                   CHAPTER TWENTY
                                Chapter twenty-part one

     “Do you hear that?” Asked Katherine.
     “Just wolves, they’ve probably arguing over the carcass we left,” replied Virgil.
     “Yes I know they’re wolves, it’s just that they sound like they’re getting closer.”
     Warren stepped closer to the frost covered window and cleared the glass with his hands, trying to view anything that might be outside, in the distance he could see numerous dark shapes dancing around where he and Virgil had left the remains of the caribou. The wolves’ eyes reflective in the stillness of the frigid moonlit air. He watched as one after another tore into the remains they had left.
     “Henry, you don’t think they’ll come here do you?” Katherine asked.
     “I doubt it, they’ll get their fill and then head back into the woods.”
     Warren turned away from the window and stood near the bar, ordering another whiskey from the porter.
    “Yes sir,” replied the porter.
     “Wolves ain’t nothing to ignore. I seen em take down a full grown Grizzly when they’re hungry enough. There ain’t much left when a pack gets ya.”
     “Warren let’s not get everyone riled up with your wolf stories, things are bad enough without your horror stories,” said Henry.
     “It’s true I tell you, they ain’t afraid of nothing.”
     “Please Mr. Wells, my fiancée is here.”
     “I was just saying----”
     Henry went over to Katherine and put his arms around her and whispered into her ear. “It’s just stories, we’re safe in here. They know better than to get near men.”
     Katherine stood huddled in her Henry’s arms, hoping that this ordeal would soon be over and the rescue train would soon arrive to take them all to the safety of a town. The wolves quickly finished the last remains of the caribou, ripping and tearing the ribs and legs from the animal’s body, and started fighting among each other over the remaining scraps. Their teeth and claws glinted in the moonlight as they dashed in and around the caribou’s body. In the distance through the wind swept snow filled night, they could see the lights flickering in the windows of the train cars, the forms of the passengers walking about in the dining car silhouetted in the square frames of the windows.
     Henry and Katherine sat together in a booth towards the front of the dining car near one of the firewood stoves trying to gather its heat. As they sat silently next to each other holding hands, the door at the other end of the car swung open and in stepped Fenton. The wind driven snow piled against the door cascaded into the dining car as he entered. He kicked the snow piles aside and slammed the door shut, then shook his coat to dislodge the snow that had fallen on his shoulders. He clasped his hands together and blew into his palms then moved nearer the firewood stove standing with his back to it.
     “Damn, it’s cold enough out there to freeze a man’s spit before it hits the ground,” he said. “Couldn’t get any sleep, damn room of mine is like an iceberg even with my stove roaring red. Snows piled up halfway along my window.”
     “What’s that noise?” Asked Fenton as he looked up to the dining car ceiling.
     “Quiet!” Said Virgil. “I heard it too, there’s something on the roof of the car.”
     Everybody in the car stood still and looked up towards the ceiling, listening for any sound. The sound of something walking on the car roof became clearer, the sounds of claws padding through the crusted snow and onto the metal roof.
     “It’s a wolf,” exclaimed a frightened Katherine.
                                                                       #
To be continued...

2011-09-25T10:15:00.001-05:00

                            Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                     CHAPTER NINETEEN
                                   Chapter nineteen-part six

     “Get my rifle,” said Virgil to Warren.
     “What?”
     “There’s a rabbit over there by them bushes, and I aim to have something to eat tonight,” Virgil said while raising the window of the passenger car.
     “Here, now take good aim, I’m hungry.”
     “Quiet you’ll spook him.”
     “Well, shoot man, before he gets away,” whispered Warren.
     “I have something else in mind.”
     “Huh?”
     “Look out there near the tree line,” explained Virgil .
     “It’s a God send, can you hit em?” Warren said, looking out towards the herd of caribou that had emerged into the snow covered field across the river.
     “I can and I will, iff’n you get out of my way.”
     Virgil steadied his rifle on the window sill and sighted in the largest of the caribou which stood posed in front of the herd sniffing the air, and squeezed the trigger. The animal shuttered then looked towards the train and leaped forward collapsing into the snow, the rest of the herd scattering back into the safety of the trees.
     “You got em! Let’s go, let’s go,” Warren said, slapping Virgil on the back and hurrying towards the door.
     “Yep, weren’t no trouble at all,” Virgil calmly replied, spitting onto the floor.
     “I heard a shot,” said Henry emerging from the sleeper car. “What happened?”
     “Virgil there shot a caribou, we’ll have something to eat tonight,” exclaimed Warren.
     “Need any help?”
     “Naagg, we can handle this,” said Virgil stepping off the platform into the snow.
                                                                     #
     “Look at the size of him, he must be near 400 pounds,” said Warren kneeling by the caribou, his knife slicing into its belly.
     “500 hundred.”
     The two men worked methodically slicing away at the carcass, separating the hide from the bloody meat and tossing the cuts of flesh into the snow and wrapping the pieces in hide, the caribou’s blood pooling around the body, and white wisps of warmth from the caribou evaporating into the air above the body.
     “Quiet,” whispered Virgil.
    A low growl from the pack of wolves that had been following the caribou herd came from the forest beyond as Virgil said, “get up.”
     “What for?”
     “Wolves,” said Virgil, pointing towards the trees. “Get up and back away slowly.”
     Virgil backed away from the carcass, cocking his rifle and pointing it towards the trees, while Warren bundled up the hides of meat and backed away with all that he could carry.
     “Shoot em,” a scared Warren said.
     “Naagg, it’ll just make em angry.”
     The two men backed away from the carcass, their eyes intent on the black shapes of the wolves as they emerged from the tree line. The eight hungry forms of terror steadily marched forward, crouched and ready to attack if the men made any move towards them. They sniffed the blood scented air and started to circle the dead caribou always glancing back towards the two men, ready to defend what was now theirs.
                                                                 #
To be continued...

2011-09-22T14:46:00.001-05:00

                           Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                    CHAPTER NINETEEN
                                Chapter nineteen-part five

     The men stood at the edge of the Chittersen Tunnel, its gaping rock edged mouth frothed with hanging snow and ice, and looked at the snow covered railroad ties spanning from steel rail to steel rail. Eighteen hundred feet of wooden trestle that they must navigate lay before them, the opening of the other tunnel on the far side, appeared as a small black thumbprint on the white-coated side of the mountain slope, and the crumbling white spaces between the wooden ties offering a slatted view of the fog shrouded valley floor two hundred fifty feet below.
     Edwin huddled against the wind that funneled through the canyon, gripped his coat tighter to his chest and shouted, “We have to go back to the train, it’s too dangerous to cross this, we’ll never make it.”
     “We can’t go back, it’s only a day’s journey to Skagway once we get to the other side,” replied Mr. Buchanan. “We’ll make it if we’re careful and take it slow. I’ll go first, you men follow. Mr. Bedford be mindful with that sleigh.”
     The swirling wind buffered at Mr. Buchanan as he stood poised to take his first step, jabbing at his body, and forcing open the flaps of his long coat. Steadying himself, he cleared away the snow on the first ice covered wooden tie with his boot and carefully placed his right foot and his full weight on the rough hewn timber, the wind hurling the clumps of freed snow against the rocks as they fell away into the fog. Balancing himself on each tie as he went, he cleared the next one in front of him with his foot until he could see the black creosote stained wood, staying as near to the steel rail as he could, not looking back and only glancing forward to see how far they still had to go. Edwin and Clark slowly followed in his footsteps just a few feet behind, each of them trying not to look over the edge of the trestle or through the spaces of the ties to the valley floor below. One tie at a time they moved forward across the trestle, clearing the path as they went, bowed against the gusts they fought to keep their balance. Clark anchored himself to the weight of the sleigh behind him as he followed the others, dragging it across the tracks. The trestle swayed and rocked as they crept across, with tufts of snow from the track hurtling over the sides into the chasm.
     “I’m going back,” screamed Edwin.
     “No you can’t!” Yelled Mr. Buchanan, turning to face Edwin.
     Mr. Buchanan’s foot slipped on the ice covered wooden tie and lodged between the ties, collapsing him down to the wooden structure, coiling his body over the edge of the trestle. His screams echoed above the abyss and his arms flailed about with his hands clutching at the air that he couldn’t grasp. Edwin panicked at the sight of the conductor dangling from the track, rushed to the edge and grabbed Mr. Buchanan’s coat and strained to help pull him up to safety. Mr. Buchanan thrashed himself up and seized Edwin’s collar, his hands cuffed around his neck, twisting his feet and dislodging his foot from between the ties and both men tumbled in a joined mass over the edge of the trestle. Their screams mending into the mist covered valley of frozen forms below.
     Clark stood unable to move after the sight of his friends plunging to their deaths seized every muscle of his body with fright. His knees buckled and he fell onto the snow covered tracks, hunched over the snow covered wooden ties, he dared not open his eyes, or he would see himself falling into the chasm. His hand wrenched tight to the steel rail and the warmth of his woolen glove covered hand slowly melting the snow, only to be replaced by ice that formed between his fingers.
     Every wrenching crawling step backwards along the ties felt to Clark to take an hour, the wind never ceased to bluster around him, testing his will to survive, or his determination to crawl to the safety of the tunnel behind him. With one foot at a time reaching back to find the next rail he crept backwards, his knees signaling their painful displeasure, his hand sliding along the frozen rail, clearing the snow as it went. Backwards, backwards. Clark always sensing that the next tie he rested on would give way from under him and cast him down into the valley below to join his friends.
     Chunks of snow and ice splashed on his back and around him as he reached back with his foot to find the next tie, his foot crunching through the snow and scrapping against the dirt jaws of the tunnel. ‘Five more feet’ he thought to himself, ‘five more feet’. Clark exhausted from his crawling allowed himself to collapse onto the sparely snow covered track inside the tunnel, his frozen hand gripping the rail to keep him from falling. He wiped the frozen sweat from his face and looked ahead to where he had been, the furrow of his journey fading beyond his sight and quickly becoming covered in snow once again, he craned his head back and saw the tiny white opening at the opposite end, where he must travel to survive. His hands formed around his chest inside his coat, he stumbled his way towards the far opening, his feet deadened with cold as they scarped over the ballast stones and half buried wooden ties.
     The frigid darkness wrapped around him with only the faint glimmering light ahead to guide him forward, as he stumbled forward, the raised head of a loosen railroad spike caught the cuff of his trousers and he sprawled to the ground, his knee testing the ability for pain of the steel rail.
                                                               #
To be continued...

2011-09-18T13:15:00.002-05:00

                            Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                    CHAPTER NINETEEN
                                 Chapter nineteen-part four

     Mr. Buchanan, Clark and Edwin spent the evening gathering pine tree sprigs and making snowshoes which they hoped would allow them to walk though the snow easier and quicker.
     “Here,” Henry said to Mr. Buchanan, handling him half his supply of matches. “It ain’t much, but it may help. Do you think we could make some coats out of the hides and build a sleigh for you to use?”
     “Don’t see why not, we could use strips of hide as thread and fashioned together a crude wooden sleigh from the wreckage of the passenger cars. We’ll be able to haul some hides to use at night as covering,” answered Clark.
     A determined set of actions is what everyone on the train was about, making snowshoes, hide coats and the sleigh for the journey the next morning. Sprigs of pine trees, twice the diameter of a man’s thumb where stripped bare of their bark and carefully bent into a teardrop shape which would then be wrapped with strips of leather taken from the benches and leather strips were weaved across the lengths and width to form the lattice work that would spread a man’s weight across the snow, with loose strips that could be used to fasten to each mans boot. The men decided to make two extra pair should their hasty construction be unreliable. The bar top was used as a cutting table for the hides, Mr. Bridgewater’s large ankle length coat was used as a rough outline to form a pattern and strips of hides were sliced to make ‘thread’ which was first hot soaked and then was pull through holes in the hide patterns and tightened and knotted, the drying hide tightening the seams and strengthen their bond. Curved roof sections from the wreckage of the first passenger car were lashed together using the same wet hide forming a six foot long toboggan, its width was only slightly smaller than the aisle that the men worked in through the night. Rope taken from the storage car would act as harnesses, and hides were stacked on it to use as blankets and bedding during the trip.
     Mr. Buchanan, Clark and Edwin, with their sleigh loaded stood, in the brisk wind that whirled around the train, walking about in the snow drifts, testing their equipment, Clark saying ‘the shoes work fine, they’ll do us right’. The other passengers, anxious and hopeful watched until they had walked out of view around the bend in the track. No one had anything to say except, ‘God be with you’ from Katherine.
                                                                     #
To be continued...

2011-09-16T10:40:00.001-05:00

                             Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                    CHAPTER NINETEEN
                                Chapter nineteen-part three

     “Mr. Buchanan, Mr. Buchanan,” exclaimed Isaiah. “Them bodies of those men that was killed are gone.”
     “What?”
     “Look out here,” said Isaiah, pointing out the frost covered window.
     Mr. Buchanan and Isaiah stood in the snow looking at the bloody trail from where the bodies had been the day before, with Mr. Buchanan noting, “Wolves, look at those tracks there, we had better warn the other passengers.”
                                                                 #
     “Gentlemen,” said the conductor to the assembled passengers. “Its been nine days since the…since the ahh, explosion, and Mr. Bedford and I have been discussing what course of action we can take and we’ve decided to try and reach Skagway on foot.”
     “You should of done that when the locomotive exploded, now we’re in worse shape than we was,” complained Clark. “The snows deeper and we’ve run out of food. The only game around here is rabbits and there ain’t much to them.”
     “I’m well aware of our situation, Mr. Wright, and as I’ve tried to explain, I had high hopes that a rescue party would have reached us by now. Mr. Bedford and I will leave tomorrow morning, when we have gotten across the Rainbow Gorge Trestle it should be an easier trail downhill to Skagway. Hopefully we’ll meet up with the rescue party and be able to tell them that we are in desperate need,” responded Mr. Buchanan.
     “You can say that again,” scoffed Warren.
     “Just you and Mr. Bedford?”
     “Yes, unless anyone would like to volunteer to come with us.”
     Vinton looked out the window at the drifting snow and said, “Well I ain’t going.”
    “I’ll go with you,” said Edwin. “There’s more of a chance out there then there is in here. At least we’ll be doing something, I can’t abide being confined aboard this train.”
     “Thank you Mr. Mitchell, is there anyone else?”
                                                                    #
To be continued....

2011-09-14T10:19:00.001-05:00

                          Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                  CHAPTER NINETEEN
                               Chapter nineteen-part two

     “Here’s the pot you wanted, and I got some plates and tableware too,” said Henry. “It’s getting kind of crowded in here? Ain’t it?” said Henry looking about the small cabin with the firewood and hides piled on the floor.
     “Do you want me to make some meat stew? I’m afraid I’m not much of a cook though.” Asked Katherine.
     “I’m not very hungry, maybe I’ll have some of the biscuits and jam later. We still have some don’t we?”
     “Yes I believe so, well if you’re not going to eat maybe I shouldn’t either.”
     “No, no, you go ahead and have something to eat, I’m used to not eating, you need to keep your strength up, maybe I’ll have what’s left later.”
     “All right Henry, I’ll need some water, I suppose the only thing to do is melt some snow, can you get some for me?”
     Henry passed Virgil and Warren in the narrow aisle as they were storing their gear in the private cabins, each of them muttering to themselves that it would be easier to heat and be more secure.
     The last of the biscuits crumbled into the bottom of the pot as Henry wiped up the remains of the stew and said, “This is a terrible way to start a life together isn’t it?”
     “It certainly isn’t what I had imagined, but we’ll have an exciting tale to tell when we get to San Francisco, it’s so terrible about those men though.”
     “I suppose, as long as it doesn’t get any worse,” said Henry. “I’ll go and clean up the pots and when I get back maybe you could read me something from that book of yours.”
     “All right Henry, but I don’t think you’ll like it.”
     “It don’t matter much,” said a weary Henry.
                                                                      #
     The island was barren except for the railroad tracks that stretched across the landscape from shore to shore disappearing at each end into the water that whirled around it, the water’s color changing from yellow to gold to red and then white with tree covered ice patches that floated in the opposite direction of the water’s flow. Henry’s feet had just touched the ground when he looked to his left and saw his father riding atop of Ole Ned through a field of shovels and picks, and a ten foot high snowman walking through the mist and melting into a pile of gold nuggets which undulated across the ground and over Henry’s leg as he lay motionless on a railroad track.
     Henry lifted the seat of the bench and stuck his head out from where he was hiding and said, “Why’s this happening pa?”
     “Why’s what happening, son?” His father answered while drinking his coffee at the kitchen table.
     “You know, why’s everyone getting hurt around me,” Henry said, his arms firmly grasped around his father as they were riding down the road on Ole Ned.
     “I don’t know, only God knows,” he responded, the axe splitting the oak log with a cracking sound.
     “I feel like I’m to blame somehow, why’s it happening to everyone around me, how come you had to die?”
     The gold nuggets under Henry’s feet squeaked and yelped, then spilt open, their blood forming into the gnarled shapes of hands that burrowed into the ice.
     Henry heard Katherine say,” It’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen.”
     “Were you responsible for what happened to your friends, your ma, and me?” His father asked, as they walked down the dirt road to their house, a fishing pole over each of their shoulders.
     “No, I don’t think so, it’s just that it’s happening because of me somehow,” said Henry pushing his way through the undergrowth of the mist shrouded forest.
     “Son, what you have got to realize is that it’s not happening because of you, but rather it’s happening to them.”
     “Huh? I don’t understand,” said a puzzled Henry while eating a jam covered biscuit.
     “Henry, you have a life to live and they have lives to live, things will happen in other peoples lives that you can do nothing about, it’s their life, things happen to them and your just a small part of it,” his father said while sitting on the edge of the dock, a fishing pole in his hand.
     “There was something in his eyes, his eyes were a terrible black, you didn’t see it,” Nate yelled from the top of a barren dead oak tree.
     Henry floated over the swirling water and asked, “But why do I feel like I’m responsible?”
     “Because you want to reach out and stop the bad things that happen, but sometimes you can’t. Their lives are their own, events will happen to them, for good and for bad. If they’re your friends and it happens you’ll be affected by it. Think of it this way son, imagine a stone that’s tossed into a lake, what happens when the stone hits the water? It creates ripples don’t it? And those ripples spread out and touch everything and everyone around them, don’t they? Bad events that happen in other people’s life are like those ripples, they spread out and affect other people. Sometimes when that happens, men become sad and it affects them so much they get sadder and sadder and lose themselves in their feelings of helplessness, other men will just let the ripples wash right over them and act as if it meant nothing to them. But you know something Henry? When bad things happen, most people are sad for a while and then they go on with their lives, they keep the hurt deep inside of them, until it fades away, and they realize that sometimes there was nothing they could of done to prevent the bad things from happening. And that’s what you have to learn Henry, other people have lives too, and events in their lives can affect you, but sometimes it’s not your fault and there was nothing you could of done to prevent the bad things from happening.”
     Sarah appeared from the fog and reached to touch Henry’s hair.
     “Henry, Henry, wake up,” said Katherine. “Are you all right? You must have been having a bad dream the way you were tossing about and taking to yourself.”
                                                                       #
To be continued...

2011-09-12T13:11:00.001-05:00

                          Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                  CHAPTER NINETEEN
                              Chapter nineteen-part one

     “Here’s some food,” said Henry, storing the parcel of food under the bench seat.
     “There’s not much there.”
     “It will be enough for a couple of days, it’s a lot more then I would eat while on the trail.”
     “What was the meeting about?”
     “The conductor said that he was taking charge and that everyone should wait on board the train until the rescue party arrives. That’s why he had Isaiah divide up the food and gave everyone some,” explained Henry, loading his rifle and leaning it in the corner.
     “That’s good that someone is taking charge, does he still think that a rescue party will be here in a couple of days?”
     “That’s what he said,” Henry replied as he put on his holster, feeling the security it gave him. “But like I said, I doubt if anyone can reach us in just a couple of days, but maybe he knows more than I do.”
     “Henry, why are you putting your gun back on? Is there something you’re not telling me?”
     “It’s just a precaution. Here I want you to have this,” Henry said, reaching into his pocket and handing his derringer to Katherine.
     “What for? We’re safe here aren’t we?”
     “TAKE IT KAY, it’s just a precaution. I’m going to get some hides to use as blankets and some firewood. Is there anything you can think of?”
     “Maybe a pot to cook with,” said Katherine gingerly stowing the derringer in her purse.
     “I’ll ask the porter about one. You stay here and keep the door shades down, and don’t forget to lock the door until I get back.”
     “All right Henry, please be careful.”
                                                                        #
      The lifeless dull clang of wood against metal resonated along the mountain pass as Vinton pounded a piece of misshapen iron into the ground with a log to mark the spot where the engineer and Harlan lay hidden it the snow bank, hopefully to find them again in the morning after they would be entombed under the falling snow. He continually complained as he and the other men searched through the snow drifts for the scattered firewood, ‘Why do I have to search for the firewood? The conductor and the porter should do it, I didn’t pay for this type of treatment. The train’s owners are going to hear from me and my lawyers when I get back.’ The river was becoming coated with floating islands of snow as it whirled about the wreckage of the train, and jagged filigree fingers of ice stretched out along the bank into the current, relentlessly trying to make the waters stay still. Mr. Buchanan and Isaiah searched through the overturned passenger car, looking for anything that might be of use, Harlan’s bloody stains patterning the interior of the cabin.
                                                                          #
To be continued...

2011-09-09T17:12:00.001-05:00

                                  Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                           CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
                                          Chapter eighteen-part one

     “It’s been two days, damn infernal snow just won’t quit. We’ll nv’er get offin’ this mountain until spring lessin’ it stops soon,” complained Emmett as he looked out the door of the small hunting cabin.
     “Quit your clamoring like a Chinaman, that’s all you’ve been doing since we got here,” responded Pierre.
     “I told you it was too late to be coming up this high, we should a headed back a month ago.”
     “All the big game has been spooked into high ground, you wanted to make some money didn’t you?”
     “We could o’ got plenty lower down.”
     “Go out and check the horses, I’m tired of listening to your caterwauling.”
     “Aggh…they’re fine as they is.”
     “Get to em! Like I tell you.” said Pierre, sitting at the hand hewn wooden table, carving designs into its top with his skinning knife.
     “Agggh,” groaned Emmett, putting on his heavy coat while leaving the cabin to check on the horses.
                                                              #
     “Pierre get out here,” came the frantic yell of Emmett.
     “What do you want?” Pierre hollered from the open doorway.
     “Get your rifle, it’s a screamer after the horses,” yelled Emmett as he tried to fight off the mountain lion that was attacking the horses. “Get your gun.”
     Pierre scrambled back into the cabin for his Winchester that stood in the corner, breaking the breach, he loaded it as he ran through the snow towards Emmett and the horses, only to find Emmett laying half buried in the snow with his leg gashed open above the knee and the horses fleeing through the trees with the mountain lion bounding after them.
     “Help me back into the cabin,” groaned Emmett, clutching at his leg.
     Pierre lifted his partner and helped drag him through the snow back into the cabin, depositing him onto the straw filled mattress of the bed, and bound Emmett’s wound with hastily cut strips of blanket. “Damn you, damn you,” moaned Emmett.
                                                                 #
     “Anything left?” Asked Emmett.
     “Naggh, we had the last of the grub a day or two ago, lessin’ you want boot stew.”
     “Why ain’t you out hunting?”
     “Snows too deep.”
     “Well get out there, we’ll starve if you don’t do something.”
     “Snows too deep.”
     “I told you we should a n’ver come up this high, now we’re done for. Nothing to eat, the horses scared off, and we’re stuck in this cabin. Do something!”
     “Yep, I suppose your right, time to do something,” Pierre said walking towards Emmett, his knife eagerly glinting behind his leg.
     “You gonna go and get some food?”
     “You don’t worry none about no food, there’s plenty here…if a man be of a mind.”
                                                                #
To be continued...

2011-09-06T07:33:00.001-05:00

                            Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                   CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
                                 Chapter seventeen-part six

     “Is everyone here?” Asked the conductor looking at the men assembled in the bar car. “Where’s Mr. McAlister, oh, there he is,” he said as he saw Henry enter the rear of the car. “Where’s your fiancée?”
     “She’s not feeling very well, the events of the past hour have her upset.”
     “That’s understandable, a lady shouldn’t have to see such things,” replied the conductor.
     “What’s this meeting about?” Asked Virgil.
     “Gentlemen, the events of this afternoon have taken everyone by surprise and as the company representative on this train I feel that I it is my reasonability to take charge of this situation.”
     “Who put you in charge?” Said Vinton.
     “The company did, and you did when you came aboard my train,” said the conductor. “If you’d like to take charge be my guest, otherwise keep your mouth shut until you have a helpful suggestion, your fitful complaining about what happened has not been of any help to anyone. Is that understood?”
     Vinton looked about the faces of the other men and remained silent.
    “I’ve gone over the food situation with Isaiah there, and I’ve decided to parcel out the remaining food supplies to each of you, I can’t spend my time guarding what little we have left, so each of you will receive an equal portion of the food, to do whatever you wish with it. I understand that we have some dried meat, a little bit of some cheese, hard bread and some beans. Is that right Isaiah?”
     “Yes sir, Mr. Buchanan, I recon we have about 20 pounds of dried meat left and some bread and cheese,” replied Isaiah. “The beans have been in the storage car for a while and I don’st known how good they are, they have mold in them.”
     “Is that it? Is that all? That won’t be enough for all of us, we’ll starve before anyone reaches us,” cowered Vinton.
     “Calm down, they’ll be here soon, and the mountains are full of game animals.”
     “This is unheard of, you want us to wait here and starve, or to go into this, this mountain wilderness and hunt for our own food, these mountains are alive with wolves and, and mountain lions. I say we carry what we can and head to Skagway.”
     “Well I’m not going out into that wilderness, you may have had some experience with this type of wilderness but I haven’t, I sell hardware for a living, I’ve never been camping in the wilderness in my life, nor do I want to. I’m going to wait here until the rescue party arrives, they’ll have sleigh dogs and can travel through these mountains quicker then any man on foot. It’s safer here,” said Edwin.
     “How do we know that niggar divided everything up equally, that he didn’t nab a bag for himself? Was anybody watching him?” Said Warren.
    “There’s no need for that type of talk, Isaiah there has been a loyal employee of this company for many years,” the conductor said, stepping towards Warren, and watching him back up. “As I said you’ll each be given an EQUAL share of what remains of the food. And I think we should gather up as much of the firewood from the tender car as we can before it is covered by the snow and everyone should move into this car to conserve what firewood we can find, seeings how the forward passenger car has been damaged by the explosion.”
     “What about them private cabins?” Fenton asked.
     “Mr. McAlister and his fiancée are the only ones in that car, if you’d like, you can use whatever cabin is vacant.”
     “What about the hides and equipment in the storage car?” Asked Henry.
     “Yes that’s a good idea, take whatever we can use, I’m sure the company will reimburse the owners, the hides will work as blankets. If the rescue party doesn’t arrive in a couple of days, I would suggest that we think about sending out hunting parties.”
     “I still say we should walk out of here.”
     “We’ll wait here, and talk about that later. Are there any other suggestions?”
     “What about the bodies of the engineer and that other fellow? Shouldn’t we bury them?”
     Mr. Buchanan looked out the window into the darkening snowfield and said, “It’ll be dark soon, we should spend what little daylight we have left gathering supplies and firewood, we’ll bury them tomorrow. Very well then, let’s try to make things as comfortable as possible while we wait. Isaiah, you can hand each of the passengers their food now.”
     “Yes sir,” replied Isaiah.
     “You don’t seem to be as upset about being stuck here as the others are,” said Henry to Pierre.
     “I ain’t, the rescue party will come and iff’n they don’t, well--- there’s always something to eat, if one has a mind too.”
                                                                   #
To be continued....

2011-09-02T13:03:00.002-05:00

                         Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                 CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
                             Chapter seventeen-part five

     “What are we going to do now?” Said Vinton.
     “What are you going to do about this?” Chorused Clark and Edwin.
     “Gentlemen please, this has been a terrible accident for all of us,” said the conductor, standing on the steps of the passenger car’s platform. “Remain calm.”
     “Remain calm? How can you stand there and suggest that we remain clam? Calm? The engine has blown itself up and people were killed! Calm? We’re in the middle of these mountains, in a God awful blizzard, on a train that just exploded. I don’t see how anyone in their right mind can remain calm.”
     “Please gentlemen, getting hysterical about the situation is not going to help, we have to remain clam and develop a plan for what we have to do.”
     “What we have to do? There’s nothing we can do. What are you going to do? It’s your train and your responsibility.”
     “Now’s not the time for pointing the finger of blame at anyone, it was an accident. No one could of foreseen what was going to happen,” said Mr. Buchanan, gesturing to have everyone clam down, as everyone crowded in front of him demanding an answer, to little avail.
     “Well I say it is your fault, yours and the railroads. What’s the railroad going to do about this?”
     “There’s nothing I can do about this, we need to remain calm. In a couple of days, when we haven’t arrived at Skagway, as our schedule indicates, the stationmaster will more then likely send out a search party for us.”
     “What? Are you saying that the stationmaster might not be worried if we don’t arrive on time?” Asked Edwin.
     “There is the possibility that he won’t be alarmed if we haven’t arrived as per our schedule. Trains are mechanical and they do---well---he’ll definitely send out a search party in a couple of days.”
     “When? How far are we from Skagway?”
     “I recon by train it would be about a day’s travel,” said the conductor, exasperated at trying to explain the known situation to the men and trying to remain calm.
     “My God, it’ll take them at least ten days to walk this far, more if the passes are weathered in. How are we supposed to survive until then? What about food?”
     “Please gentlemen, I’m as concerned as you are, I’m aboard this train too, let’s go inside and assess the situation in a rational, calm manner.”
                                                                  #
     The porter banged on the door to Katherine’s cabin and said, “Mr. McAlister you in there?”
     “I’m in here, what do you want?”
     “Mr. Buchanan has requested that everyone meet him in the next car, sir, he has something to say about our situation, you coming?”
     “Tell him I’ll be there in a few minutes,” replied Henry.
     “Henry what do you think he wants?” Asked Katherine.
     “I’m not sure what he can tell us that we don’t already know,” said Henry. “Maybe you should stay here, I’ll go and find out what he has to say.”
     “Yes I think I will, I’m really not up to seeing anyone right now. I’m frightened Henry.”
     “Don’t be, I’m here. In a couple of days a rescue party will be sent to look for us.”
     “Do you really think the rescue party will be here in a couple of days?”
     “Yes,” said Henry softly, not wanting to express his true feeling to Katherine.
     “You don’t really think that do you?” Her worries echoing in her voice.
     “I don’t know Kay, the way it has been snowing, I just can’t say, but I doubt that anyone can get to us for a while. I’ve been in these type of blizzards when I was on the trail to Bennett and all we could do was trudge along the trail, sometimes we would be able to walk for a couple of hours up the mountain and then we’d have to make camp, and some days we couldn’t move at all. Maybe if they have sled dogs---I don’t know.”
     “Thank you dear.”
     “For what?”
     “For telling me the truth,” replied Katherine, a weak smile flickering across her face. “I guess I better---Henry, you’ll stay in here with me won’t you?”
     “Of course I will, I’m not going to let anything happen to you. We’ll get through this and then we’ll get to San Francisco. We’re going to get married, remember? And have lots of kids and have a wonderful life together, you’ll see.”
     Henry bent down and kissed Katherine on top of the forehead and left, securely closing the cabin door behind him.
                                                                #
To be continued...

2011-07-23T18:12:00.001-05:00

                          Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
                               Chapter seventeen-part four

     Henry, his mind filled with only one thought, raced up the snow covered embankment to find Katherine safe inside the passenger car, her face ashen white and tears streaming down her cheeks. Henry held her tight and turned her face away from the flaming wreckage beyond the window.
     “Are you all right?” He said softly.
     “Henry, it’s terrible, those poor men.”
     “Don’t look, come on let’s go back to your cabin,” Henry said, cradling her in his arms as he lead her down the aisle.
     “It’s horrible Henry, I can’t believe it,” she said, her voice a saddened impression of what it normally was.
     “I know, I know,” said Henry, placing a blanket around her trembling body. “Are you all right?”
     Katherine, her face buried in her hands said, “It’s horrible Henry, how could this of happened?”
     “I don’t know, try not to think about it right now, the only thing that matters is that you’re safe,” Henry said, holding Katherine close, doing the only thing he knew how in an effort to comfort her.
                                                                     #
     “You two, see about Mr. Woodbury,” ordered the conductor, pointing to Vinton and Edwin.
     “Doesn’t seem to be much of a point, there ain’t much left of him,” replied Edwin, looking into the wreckage of the passenger car.
     “Do it! If it were you under there we’d get you out,” the conductor ordered, and headed towards the remains of the locomotive. “Mr. Bedford come with me.”
    “Doesn’t seem to be much point,” grumbled Edwin, as he looked at the crushed body of Harlan. “Dig out some of that snow and grab hold of what’s left of him,” he said to Vinton.
     “Is he---is he alive?” Yelled Clark to the conductor who stood atop the snow pile.
     Mr. Johannsen lay twisted and broken, his clothes seared away by the blast and a piece of smoldering iron protruded from his chest, his face was torn open from his chin to his left ear and his right eye stared blankly into the sky. His right arm was fifteen feet away, half buried in the melted soot covered snow, his hand still gripping the shovel.
     “Nagg, he’s dead. You wait down there and I’ll lower him to you,” reported the conductor.
     The conductor and Clark dragged the body of Mr. Johannsen over to the embankment near the remaining cars, placing the body next to Harlan’s in the snow.
    “What about that poor fellow?” Said Clark, pointing to the body of Chester snagged it the debris of the locomotive.
     Mr. Buchanan surveyed the scene of the railroad cars in the river and the body of Chester and said, “I don’t see as we can reach him, we’ll wait until morning, the river will have washed his body ashore by then. Get some blankets to cover these fellows.”
                                                               #
To be continued........

2011-07-03T09:57:00.001-05:00

                          Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                   CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
                            Chapter seventeen-part three

     “Why have we stopped?” Asked Henry to Vinton. “What’s happened?”
     “Can’t rightly say, a few minutes ago the conductor left and has gone up front to talk to the engineer.”
     The conductor entered the railcar shaking the snow from his coat and was greeted by the assembled crowd of questioning passengers who pressed forward, all anxious to be the first to have his questions answered.
     “Why have we stopped?”
     “What’s happened?”
     “What’s wrong?”
     “Gentlemen please, if I may speak, is everyone here? Good. I’ve talked to the engineer and there has been a snow slide that is blocking the tracks. The engineer thinks he can bull his way forward and push the snow out of the way so we can continue. So, I suggest that everyone remain calm and prepare for what maybe a few sudden rough jolts.”
     “How long is this going to take?”
     “What did he say?”
     “Is there any danger?”
     “There’s no danger at all, I can assure you. The engineer is going to back the train up and ram the snow pile to clear the tracks. It may take several tries, but I can assure you we’ll get through. Please everyone just remain calm and hold on for any sudden jolts.”
                                                                      #
     “More sand Chester,” screamed Mr. Johannsen, the engineer, watching the wheels slip on the tracks as he backed up the train.
     The train groaned to a stop 200 feet down the track and Mr. Johannsen pushed the gear level forward again, the wheels slipping on the rails trying to crawl its way back towards where it had began, the locomotive gathered speed on the sand coated rails and slammed into the snow pile, wedging its iron nosed snowplow into the pile and spilling frozen chunks of ice and snow down the sloping embankment of the mountain pass.
     “Sand, more sand,” he yelled again as he pulled the level back.
     The locomotive shuttered and moaned as its wheels seized the rail and then spun freely unable to maintain their grip on the tracks while trying to dislodge itself from the barricade of snow, sending rattling vibrations through the engineer’s cabin.
     “More sand,” he screamed again as he leaned out the locomotive’s window watching for any backward movement.
     Mr. Johannsen tapped the steam pressure gauge and pulled the rope on the steam release valve, relieving the pressure that had built up in the boiler, the whistle howling out Mr. Johannsen’s displeasure, and said, “No good. I’ll go up front and see how bad the plow is jammed, we might have to dig it out.”
     Mr. Johannsen grabbed the shovel and climbed down from the warmth of the engine cabin stepping into the drifted snow beside the locomotive sinking up to his calves in the drift and headed towards the snowplow which he could see had wedged itself under four feet of compacted snow, a small part of the avalanche of snow that had broken loose from the mountain’s side. He stared at the snow blocking the track, cursing the pile as he climbed up the sides of the eight foot mountain of snow to see how large a section of track was buried and if the tracks could be cleared by hand. When he reached the top of the slide he saw that it was 60 feet long and at least as deep as it was were he stood, Mr. Johannsen surmised it would take at least five hours of hard work by four men just to clear the track. It was the only option he thought, there was no way to back the train down the mountain, it was fortunate they were stalled at a point along the line where the ground had only a modest incline, with the river to the east of the trapped train, its shoreline ice encrusted and capped with eight inches of new fallen snow.
     The conductor, Henry and most of the other passengers were gathered in the snow next to the stalled train wondering if the engineer could batter the snow aside with the power of the locomotive. Katherine and the porter watched from the dining car as Chester climbed down from the engine’s cab and walked forward to the front of the train.
     “What’s it look like,” yelled Chester to Mr. Johannsen, who stood on top of the snow slide.
     “What are you doing?” Shouted a surprised Mr. Johannsen, who was dismayed to hear Chester’s voice.
“Get back to the engine and watch those gauges, you know she runs hot when she’s standing. Get back there!”
     Chester glanced at the controls and tapped on the steam pressure gauge’s glass case, the needle inside jumped and steadily moved into the painted yellow zone and quickly into the red, stopping only when it could go no farther around the dial. Chester pulled hard on the rope to release the built-up stream, as Mr. Johannsen had always instructed him to do, and watched as the gauge’s needle refused to move. He grabbed a wrench from the tool box and banged on the pipe valves hoping to free the blockage in the pipes, as he reached for the rope again the rivets in the boiler’s iron plate blasted out of their holes, releasing whistling white steam. The boiler no longer able to contain the energy of the boiling water, exploded in a cauldron of white vapors and howling flames, ripping apart the locomotive and the engineer’s compartment. Chester’s body was ejected from the storm of fire and iron and hurled through the air, his body a fireball of flames, landing 100 feet into the river below, howling screaming of agony following him into the water. A cascade of larger and more violent explosions lifted the locomotive off the track, engulfing it in flames, and launching the smoke stack into the air. The tender car’s front section, coupled to the locomotive, lifted up and tilted over, skidding down the embankment spilling its contents into the white snow. It hung for a few moments still coupled to the passenger car at its rear then dragged the first passenger car’s front off the track before the iron coupling tore loose, it cascaded down the bank tumbling lengthwise, side over side, with pieces of firewood flying in every direction as it spun, until it landed upside down, crashing into the frigid waters, half submerging in the whirling waters. The passenger car still hooked to the remaining cars slid along the snowy bank and pivoted in the snow towards the stunned men who watched in shock.
     “Look out!” Everyone yelled.
     Harlan raced to get away from the wooden carnage that was angrily skidding towards him, clawing his way through the snow and was crushed under the passenger car as it slid sideways over him, his warm red blood melting the snow. Henry and the other men jumped clear of the wreckage, rolling through the snow down the embankment towards the river’s edge and watched as the remains of the locomotive crumpled and shifted from its flaming stance, and rolled into the river bedsides the sunken tender car. The river gasped out white clouds of steam as the locomotive settled to the bottom.
                                                                         #
To be continued.....

2011-06-27T15:07:00.002-05:00

                            Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                              CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
                           Chapter seventeen-part two

     “How was your food folks?” Asked the porter. “Can I get you some more drinks?”
     “It was delicious, you’re a good cook,” said Katherine, passing her empty plate to the porter.
     “Thank you ma’am, there wasn’t much to it and I’m afraid that’s what’s on tomorrow’s menu and that will be just about the last of it,” replied the porter gathering up the supper plates. “More whiskey sir?”
Henry looked over at Katherine and said, “Ah, maybe just some coffee.”
     “Very good sir, I’ll be back in a moment.”
     Katherine squeezed Henry’s leg and whispered to him, “I don’t mind if you have a whiskey now and then, just so you know your capacity.”
     Henry felt a warm delight race through his body that was not caused by the whiskey. Whiskey was a true man’s drink and Henry wasn’t sure how he would react in public if he was only to drink coffee or tea because his new bride disapproved of alcohol.
                                                                 #
     “Are you going to be all right here alone tonight?” Asked Henry.
     “Yes I’ll be fine. I’ll just read my book until I get tired,” said Katherine.
     “I don’t see any blankets, I should get some from the porter.”
     “I believe they’re stored under the seat there Henry.”
     “Hmm? Oh I see,” said Henry, lifting up the seat cushion and retrieving the blankets and pillows. “Your stove has just about gone out,” noted Henry, placing two sticks of firewood into the stove and stirring the glowing embers.
     “Thank you Henry, what are you going to do?” Asked Katherine, arranging a blanket over her lap and placing the pillow behind her back, cushioning her against the wooded corner of the cabin.
     “I’ll just find myself a place next to one of the stoves in the passenger car, and maybe have a whiskey with that Clark fellow, if he’s still there. If I don’t I think he’ll pester me until I do.”
     “Good night Henry.”
     “What no kiss good-night?”
     Katherine smiled and presented her wrist to Henry.
     “That’s not what I meant,” huffed Henry.
     “I know,” laughed Katherine. “Give me a kiss and be on your way.”
     Henry squeezed Katherine close and kissed her on her lips, holding her until she pushed him way and said with a smile, “I guess that will have to hold you until tomorrow.”
     “My goodness, I hope my fiancée doesn’t find out what a good kisser you are,” laughed Katherine.
     “Let’s hope not, it would spoil all the fun,” Henry said as they both laughed. “Don’t forget to lock the door. Good night.”
                                                                #
     Henry sat across from Katherine in her cabin, who had her legs wrapped under a blanket, and poured some coffee into Katherine’s cup saying, “You know I had a terrible time getting this pot of coffee away from the porter, but once I told him it was for you, he let me take it with me.”
     “That was sweet of him, I’ll have to thank him,” said Katherine, sipping her coffee, the jostling of the train as it traveled around a bend in the mountains, splashing the dark brew from side to side, from rim to rim, nearly upsetting the liquid into her lap.
     “I hope I didn’t come back too early.”
     “You were right on time, Henry, I just finished my womanly morning routine.”
     Henry puzzled for a moment and decided not to ask what Katherine meant by ‘womanly morning routine’, thinking that she meant she had just returned from using the privy at the end of the sleeping car.
     “How did you sleep Henry?”
     “I slept well enough, I only rolled off the bench once when the train went around a curve, then I figured it would be safer to sleep sitting up.”
     “Henry, you did not, you’re just teasing me. Did you talk to Clark?”
     “No, I found him laying on one of the benches, snoring like a cow giving birth, I think he was passed out,” said Henry, his mouth full of a jam covered biscuit.
     Henry leaned over to the small window and looked out into the drifting snowflakes and said, “I think the train is slowing down.”
     The train’s unexpected stop, lurched Henry towards the front of the train into his seat again. “We’ve stopped, there must be something wrong. Come along Katherine let’s find out what happened.”
   “Heavens sake Henry at least let me make myself presentable and put on my coat.”
     “You look lovely the way you are, what more fussing do you have to do?”
     “Well a woman just has to---never you mind Henry, you wait outside while I get ready.”
     “All right, but I really don’t understand what the fuss is all about.”
                                                                         #

2011-06-21T10:52:00.001-05:00

                            Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                    CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
                                Chapter seventeen-part one

     “Kay, wake up,” said Henry gently shaking Katherine’s shoulder.
     “Huh? Oh, yes Henry?” Henry gave Katherine a small kiss on the cheek and paused, looking at her angelic face, and gave her another kiss on her lips.
     “That was nice---I must have fallen asleep,” smiled Katherine.
     Henry reached down and picked up the book that Katherine had dropped to the floor and said, “‘Little Women’, what’s that about?”
     “It’s about four sisters, the March sisters, you wouldn’t like it, it’s a women’s novel about girls growing up in a big family.”
     “You’re probably right. Do you smell something? I think I smell something cooking, it must be the porter preparing supper, shall we go and see what’s to eat?”
     “Yes, I’m famished.”
     “I wonder what the porter is preparing, I doubt that it will be anything fancy since this is only a one day trip, I’m sure they haven’t got a lot of food on board.”
     “As long as it’s not some of that hardtack you told be about,” laughed Katherine.
     “If it is I’m going to jump off the train.”
     Henry escorted Katherine down the aisle and waited for her outside on the small platform between the cars, the wind whisking the snow across the platform and said, “Be careful here.”
     “I will Henry, my goodness it’s blustery,” said Katherine, looking down at the opening between the two platforms, the ground under the train speeding away into the darkness.
     “I’ll go across first and guide you from the other side,” said Henry.
     “All right.”
     Henry stepped across the uneven gap and extended his hand for Katherine and held firm to the iron post saying, “Come on.”
     “Whoa,” said Katherine, landing on the other side.
     “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Said Henry, his arms embracing Katherine. “Let’s do it again, so I can wrap my arms around you some more.”
     “Don’t be silly Henry, it’s freezing out here, let’s go inside,” Katherine said, kissing Henry on the cheek.
     “How about a drink friend?” Said Clark, standing at the bar. “Is that your fiancée? She sure is a pretty thing.”
     “Perhaps another time,” replied Henry, escorting Katherine down the aisle and motioning to the porter that he should follow them.
     “Who was that?” Asked Katherine, adjusting herself beside Henry on the small bench.
     “Just a drunk, his name is Clark I think, he’s been in that same spot all day, it’s a wonder he can even stand.”
     “Yes sir, can I help you?” Asked the porter.
     “Yes, we’d like something to eat, what are you cooking?” Said Henry.
     “There’s not much of a selection,” chuckled Isaiah, the porter. “No choice at all. Dried beef and gravy over toasted bread and some cheese slices if you’d like.”
     “As long as it’s hot,” said Katherine.
     “Oh, it’s plenty hot, mam. You folks need to lift up your tray so’s I can put the table cloth on.”
     “Huh?” Murmured Henry.
     “Grab them handles, sir,” said the porter pointing to the brass handles on the back on the benches in front of Katherine and Henry. “The tray will fold down.”
     “Oh, I see, isn’t that clever.”
     “Yes sir, saves a lot of room, not having to have tables set out. I’ll be back with your table cloth and plates, would you like anything to drink?”
     “I’ll have coffee, if you have some.”
     “Yes ma’am, we have plenty of that, I just made a fresh pot.”
     “Ah, whiskey,” said Henry. “A small one.”
     “We have plenty of that too,” laughed the porter.
     “I certainly am glad that they built this railroad,” said Katherine. “They were still working on it when I first came to Whitehorse, I’m amazed at how fast they built it. Aren’t you Henry?”
     “I guess so, anything beats walking I guess. We could of taken a steamship down river to Skagway.”
     “Yes I know, it’s just that a train is so much more romantic. Besides I don’t do very well on a ship. When I came to Whitehorse with William I had to stay in my cabin all the time because I was seasick. I’m afraid I was a lot of bother to him.”
     “William?”
     “Oh didn’t I tell you? William is my father’s butler, he’s worked for my father for about ten years now and my father trusts him implicitly, you didn’t think father would have allowed me to travel alone did you?”
     “I don’t know, you seem able to take care of yourself. Where is William? I didn’t meet him.”
     “He went back home after he escorted me to Uncle Mordecai, he was going to return to fetch me when I was ready to leave, but since you decided to travel with me, he wasn’t needed.”
     “I hope I can do as good a job as William, after all we’re going to be together for a long time and that’s part of my job now.”
     “I’m sure you can Henry, you’ve done a wonderful job so far, haven’t you?”
     “I suppose.”
                                                              #
To be continued...........

2011-06-16T18:23:00.001-05:00

                                 Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                            CHAPTER SIXTEEN
                                        Chapter sixteen-part four

     “What’s your name?” Asked Clark to the porter who was tending the bar.
     “Isaiah Lincoln, sir.”
     “Lincoln?...Are all you niggras named Lincoln or Washington or Jefferson?”
     “I wouldn’t know about that sir.”
     “Give me another whiskey.”
     “Yes sir.”
     “Where you from boy?...I thought all you darkies just lived down South where it’s hot, it’s mighty cold up here for you ain’t it?” Slurred Clark.
     “I don’t mind about that, the snow never gave me no mind to worry about. It just is that’s all, the same as anywhere else, I can’t do nothing about it.”
                                                                  #
     The conductor walked down the aisle checking on the passengers, passing Mr. Harlan Woodbury, who was leaning against the window snoring, and greeted Mr. Edwin Mitchell saying, “Good day Mr. Mitchell, I see you’re heading to Skagway again.”
     “Yes, my summer excursion into the Yukon selling hardware is at an end I’m afraid. I have a lot of orders to process when I get home,” replied Edwin.
     “Business is good then?”
     “Business is up ten fold since last year, crazy fool miners will buy just about anything. Course that’s not to say there isn’t any competition, because there is, every Jack-Harry who didn’t have any luck in the gold fields seems to have set up shop selling supplies to the new arrivals that come into town, I have to scurry every which way to get ahead of them before they can make promises they can’t keep.”
     “Ha, ha,” laughed the conductor. “Ants to a picnic.”
     “That’s it exactly, a man barely has time to have a drink and socialize before he has to go and see his next customer.”
     “Well I’m sure that Mrs. Mitchell will be glad to have you home.”
     “She’s crazy too, daft I tell you,” replied Edwin. “You know what she wanted me to do the last time I was home? Well, I’ll tell you. She wanted me to build an addition to our house, for a parlor she said, a fancy parlor where she could entertain all her friends. She’s gone plumb daft, there ain’t nobody in Skagway that she needs to be putting on airs with, in a fancy new parlor mind you, and on what I make on commissions, she’s daft,” said Edwin shaking his head in disgust.
     The conductor laughed and said, “Well good luck to you then, I’m glad I don’t have such worries anymore.”
     The conductor continued down the aisle, adjusting the wall lanterns and straightening the widow curtains as he went.
                                                               #
     “That’s a fine looking hunting knife you have there,” said Vinton Wright to Pierre D’ Lamont, who sat across the aisle.
     “What’s it to ya?” Snapped Pierre in a disinterested tone that would scare most people into leaving him alone.
     “This is your lucky day,” replied Vinton, unfolding the legs from his traveling display case and setting it in the aisle. “I have here the finest forms of cutlery, skinning and hunting knifes that can be found anywhere in the Western Hemisphere, each and every one hand made of the finest steel and sharpened to such a degree of excellence that a man could split an eyelash with each and every one, everyone of these exceptional knifes has been hand crafted by the greatest knife makers in the Kaiser’s Prussia.”
     “Ain’t interested, take your cutlery somewheres else.”
     “Sir, this is an opportunity of a lifetime, nowhere can you find such knifes as these, just look at the sharpness of the blades and how each one has been perfectly balanced. Sir, I could sell any one of these knifes for----”
     “I said I ain’t interested,” Pierre stated calmly, slamming down the lid of the display case. “See this?” Pierre said, holding his hunting knife in front of Vinton’s face. “This here knife is better than anything you got in there, I’ve skinned bears, antelopes and horses with it, I can cut clean through the bone with it, if I’ve a mind to. And I’ll bet I can split one of your eyelashes with it,” Pierre said, holding the knife point in front of Vinton’s eye.
     “Sir, sir,” said Vinton, moisture glistening on his brow. “There’s really no need to---perhaps I should---”
     “Yea, you should,” laughed Pierre, settling back into his seat and adjusting his hat over his eyes.
                                                               #
To be continued.........

2011-06-14T16:21:00.001-05:00

                            Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                     CHAPTER SIXTEEN
                                 Chapter sixteen-part three

     The train churned its way through the Coast Mountains, weaving along the narrow passes that had been blasted into the rocky ridges, the mountainous scenery flickering by in the windows providing a kinetic view, its black smoke trailing along its length, melding into the white snowflakes, graying the sky. As it climbed at a slow steady pace steeper into the hills, the ground became blanketed in deeper and fresher snow, the repetitive clicking of the wheels against the steel rails, mimicking the rocking motion of the cars, putting everyone at ease.
     The conductor walked along the aisle of the cars greeting each passenger in turn with a ‘good day sir’, or merely smiled and tipped his hat as he passed by, always remembering to tell the men, ‘safety regulations on this train require everyone to unload their shotguns and rifles’, and he would watch as the men grudgingly complied with the regulations.
     “Conductor, conductor,” said Henry.
     “Yes sir, how may I help you?”
     “It’s about my luggage, I understand they’re in the storage car and I’d like to retrieve one of them.”
    “Yes sir, no problem at all sir, right this way,” said the conductor, leading Henry down the aisle to the storage car.
     “Wait just a minute sir,” said the conductor, slamming the door behind him. “Let me light this lantern, wouldn’t want you to trip over any of the items in here.”
     The glow of the lantern partially illuminated the cramped confines of the windowless storage car. Wooden boxes and crates lined the walls along with bales of animal hides, and crates of mining tools and railroad equipment. The steel heads of the picks and shovels chattering together as the car swayed.
     “Here they are,” noted Henry, picking up Katherine’s large brown valise. “There doesn’t seem to be very many passengers on board.”
     “That’s right normal, most of the passengers we get travel north, then the cars are crammed full of eager ‘stampeders’, with gold lust in their eyes and not a modicum of what lies before them. We get very few that can afford to travel back from their exploits in the gold fields, mostly what we get are salesman heading back to fill their orders in Skagway and of course passengers like yourself and your misses.”
                                                                 #
     “Here you are Kay,” said Henry, placing the brown valise on the floor.
     “Thank you Henry, was it much trouble?”
     “No trouble at all, what’s in it?”
     “Oh just womanly things you wouldn’t be interested in,” smiled Katherine. “But it does have some fresh baked biscuits that Margaret made as a going away gift.”
     “Did she give you any of that jam preserves she used to make?”
     “Why of course she did, she remembered how you liked it so much. Would you like some now?”
     “No, I don’t think so, maybe later,” said Henry, plopping himself down on the bench across from Katherine.
     “Henry, do you have to wear that?”
     “What? My revolver? I guess not, I’m so used to wearing it I guess I don’t even notice it anymore.”
     “Henry you now I don’t like those things, and we’re not in Whitehorse anymore,” said Katherine. “And besides it’s almost a new century, it’s not like it was in the Old West.”
     “Yes I suppose your right,” said Henry, taking off his holster and stowing it on the shelf above him. “I still have this,” grinned Henry, patting his coat pocket where his derringer rested.
     Katherine smiled and continued to read her book, while Henry watched the scenery flicker past the window, letting the motion of the train rock him to sleep.
                                                               #
To be continued........

2011-06-12T09:28:00.001-05:00

                           Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                    CHAPTER SIXTEEN
                               Chapter sixteen-part two

     Henry and Katherine were lurched backwards as the locomotive spun its wheels on the icy tracks and then bumped forward as the wheels gripped the rails beginning its mountainous journey towards Skagway, a trip that it took tree times a week carrying supplies and passengers back and forth from the mining camps of Alaska, through the Yukon territories and to the Western port town of Skagway. The passenger car’s interior was cramped and worn, red leather bench seats were soiled and the leather was ripped with turfs of horsehair exposed to view. The wooden walls scratched and dented from the carelessly thrown belongings of the miners who traveled the distance forward and back again from the gold fields, and tin plated kerosene lanterns hung from the walls, each skewed differently from another. Katherine and Henry hurried past the other passengers, all of whom were casually settling into their chosen spots, adjusting and storing what items they had brought on board. The second passenger car was identical to the first, except that towards the rear of the car a small wooden bar had been built, leaving just enough room for passengers to scurry by on their way to an adjoining car, its wooden top only 14 inches wide, just enough room for an elbow and a glass of whiskey, but wide enough for a tray that could be loaded with glasses to be served to the passengers if so desired, and a small cast iron cook stove had been recessed into the outer wall projecting out onto the iron porch between the cars, the porter, who after storing away the passengers luggage had now taken the duties of a barkeep and cook, he was settling the whiskey bottles and glassware on the floor behind the bar. They hurried past the other passengers already seated in the passenger car towards their cabin, only a few passengers would be taking this last train out of Whitehorse, many for the first time, while some had taken the journey south many times and then would head back to the gold fields once the winter months had passed.
                                                                      #
     Henry and Katherine hurried down the narrow aisle of the sleeping car, as it was called because it contained the only private cabins on the train, to Katherine’s compartment.
     “Here it is, number 2,” said Henry as he slid open the wooden door.
     “Certainly isn’t very big,” Katherine commented as she looked into the cabin with its two facing benches, a single window and a cylindrical firewood stove mounted in the corner, the walls protected from the heat by iron plates bolted to the surrounding walls.
     “You know we’re lucky to have this cabin, I had to pay extra for this cabin and besides it’s only for one night.”
     “That was very thoughtful of you dear, I’m sure I can survive for the short time we’re here. I hope you didn’t have to pay too much extra,” Katherine said making herself comfortable on the red leather bench. “How long did the ticket master say it would take?”
     “He said that during the summer months it usually takes only a day and a half, but it might take a little longer this trip due to the weather.”
     “Well I hope it doesn’t take to long, you know that our ship will be leaving in ten days. Can you find out where our luggage is? I would like to have my large brown valise.”
     “Yes, I’ll find it for you, you rest up and get comfortable, I’ll check with the porter about our baggage. Won’t be long,” Henry replied as he stepped back into the narrow aisle and headed towards the front of the train.
     Mr. Clark Bedford, a ragged prospector who had given up on his quest for gold and had sold all his equipment to pay for an easier trip back to Skagway, stood leaning against the make-shift bar, his elbow holding up his frame while in his hand rested a glass half full of brown colored whiskey. The porter waited behind it, in his white porter’s uniform, always wiping the bar top with a tattered cotton towel.
     “Porter have you seen my luggage? I’m Mr. McAlister, I have cabin number 2.”
     “Yes sir, yes sir, I placed them in the storage car, as per the company’s policy. Excepting for what folks carry on themselves it’s what we always do.”“That’s fine, I’ll just go and get them myself.”
     “Oh you can’t do that sir, the storage car is locked, you’ll have to see Mr. Buchanan, he’s the conductor, for the keys.”
     “Pardon me stranger, I’m Clark Bedford, can I buy you a drink?” Interrupted Clark. “Seein’s how we’ll be traveling on this train together, I thought I’d introduce myself.”
     “Thank you but not now, I’m kind of in a hurry to find my fiancée’s luggage,” replied Henry, taking stock of the man who stood beside him, blocking the way forward.
     “Fiancée ehh?” He remarked, sipping his whiskey. “Perhaps later then.”
     “Yes that would be fine, please excuse me while I go and find the conductor,” said Henry pushing pass the man.
                                                                #
To be continued........

2011-06-10T16:26:00.001-05:00

                               Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                       CHAPTER SIXTEEN
                                   Chapter sixteen-part one

     A stiff early winter’s wind swirled the snowflakes around the small wooden train platform at Whitehorse, never letting them stay in one place for too long. The white veil of frozen forms seemed to part around Henry as he stood watching the other passengers climb aboard the Yukon Flyer making its last journey to Skagway before the winter season closed the tracks, Katherine busied herself with the porter checking that he had their entire luggage. The start of a new wonderful life he thought to himself as he waited.
     The shriek of the stream whistle howled through the frigid air and curled aside the floating white veils of snow that whirled above the steam locomotive, its steam engine hissed and moaned as it sat tethered to the cars behind it, straining to be let loose to chatter down the twin ribbons of steel. Behind it was a half filled tender car of split firewood and three cars behind with a storage car attached to them, and a yellow painted Caboose finishing the procession of cars. The cars were painted forest green with sun-baked yellow horizontal stripes above the windows, except for the third car, the six cabin sleeper car, it was clad in red-toned mahogany panels adored with crimson red trim and was used only for special occasions and rarely used to transport the ordinary travelers who journeyed North.
                                                                  #
     Again the whistle broke the silence on the platform as the conductor yelled, “All aboard---”
     “Are you sure we have everything Henry?” Asked Katherine as they stood near the ticket window.
     “Yes I’m sure the porter has all our bags and will put them safely in the cabin. You’ve already checked them twice,” replied Henry as he watched the conductor come towards them.
     “Tickets please folks.”
     Henry retrieved his tickets and gave them to the conductor, turning up his coat collar to warm himself against the cold wind.
     “That will be Cabin number 2 sir, I’m sure you and your wife will find the accommodations to your liking. You’re fortunate to be going at this time, normally we don’t have any sleeping cars, but seeings as this is the last train of the season, the company wanted everything brought down to Skagway to be stored and refurbished during the winter.”
     “Oh Kay isn’t my wife, yet, she’s my fiancée,” smiled Henry.
     “That’s a mite improper ain’t it?” Remarked the conductor as he stamped and returned Henry’s tickets, giving them both a judgmental look.
     “You misunderstand, Kay will be using the cabin and I’ll be staying in one of the passenger car, I’m sure it would be more private and comfortable for her.”
     “That sounds like a gentlemanly plan sir, my apologizes. Better get on board folks, the train will be leaving soon,” the conductor motioned as he guided them to the steps of the waiting train.
     The wind twisted between the rail cars scattering snow and ice pellet’s onto the trio causing Katherine’s bonnet to be flung from her head, its lace scarf looping around her collar keeping it from being free to bounce down the station’s platform and join with the clouds of snow which was beginning to obscure the train.
     “Can’t say we’re leaving this place too soon,” Henry noted to the conductor while helping Katherine up the steps.
     “Yep, this is the last train south before the snow closes the line.”
     “Do you think it will be safe in this snow?” Asked Katherine.
     “Yes ma’am, it’s just Kate letting us know she’s stirring.”
     “Kate?” Asked a puzzled Katherine.
     “Yes ma’am, Klondike Kate…Winter ma’am... she’s just now starting to rise from her summer slumber. It won’t be long until she gets her dander up and makes life intolerable for everyone in these parts. This train has been through much worse than this tho,” replied the conductor as he swung his lamp to signal the engineer that it was time to go. “I’ve been riding this train since it was built in ‘95, and we’ve never been stuck yet. I hear tell that it cost Mr. McGraw near three-quarters of a million dollars to build this line, he hired the engineer Mr. Hill personally to design and oversee the construction. Some say that Mr. Hill is the best railroad engineer in the country.”
     “My goodness that’s a lot of money to spend on a railroad,” replied Katherine.
     “Yes ma’am, I suppose it is, especially when it goes just 300 miles from Whitehorse to Skagway carrying only gold prospectors and supplies into the Yukon. But what with all the valleys they had to cross and mountains they had to tunnel through, I guess it was a fair enough price. Them railroad workers had to work in the worst of conditions, even right on through the winter, blasting away the mountains and building them wooden trestles. This line has the tallest trestle this side of the Mississippi, I guess that’s something to be proud of, but you don’t have to worry about none of that ma’am, as I said, I’ve been the conductor on this train for quite some time and it ain’t got stuck yet, that snow plow on the front there will go through most anything. Better get on board now before you catch a chill, I’m sure the porter already has a warm fire going for you in your cabin.”
     “All aboard,” sounded the conductor once more as he looked through the flurries towards the ticket station to catch any glimpse of last minute arrivals, then he stepped inside the warm coach and slammed the door tight.
                                                                 #
To be continued........

2011-06-07T10:18:00.001-05:00

                           Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                       CHAPTER FIFTEEN
                                  Chapter fifteen-part four

     “Nine, I’m afraid Henry and I win again Uncle,” smiled Katherine.
     “You’re right Henry, she does cheat, Margaret and I have hardly won a game,” remarked Mordecai.
     Henry laughed and said, “Yes but this time she’s on my side.”
     “That’s not very nice Uncle, you’re exaggerating.”
     “I’ll never get the hang of this game, Margaret has been the one winning all the tricks.”
     “Perhaps Whisk is just a woman’s game,” laughed Margaret. “Poker is probably more to your liking.”
     “I’m glad that your all in such a festive mood tonight, I have something I want to ask Katherine,” said Henry.
     “What is it Henry, what’s so important?”
     “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time and I think now’s the time, and---”
     “Yes Henry.”
     “Eh, you know that I’m very fond of you, and well, I hope you’re fond of me---”
     “Yes Henry.”
     “Well this really hard, and I would just like to---”
     “What is it Henry?”
     “Would you stop interrupting the boy and let him finish?” Laughed Mordecai.
     Henry knelt on one knee and fumbled in his coat pocket and presented the black ring box to Katherine and said, “Will you marry me?”
     “Well I don’t know this is all such a surprise,” teased Katherine. “Of course I will, Henry.”
     “Good for you boy, you’ll make a fine couple,” said Uncle Mordecai.
     “May I Uncle?” Asked Katherine, leaning to kiss Henry.
     “I think that’s customary.”
     “Henry it’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen.”
     “Here, here, a toast to the happy couple.”
     “Would you look at me,” said Henry, wiping his brow with his handkerchief. “I’m perspiring like it was August.”
                                                                #
To be continued........

2011-06-05T11:08:00.002-05:00

                           Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                    CHAPTER FIFTEEN
                                 Chapter fifteen-part three

     “Settle down everyone, ladies and gentlemen please take your seats. I’m Magistrate Travis Ellston, of and for the Canadian Yukon territories. This is a preliminary hearing to decide whether or not it would be a waste of the court’s time to proceed with a murder trial against Mr. Henry McAlister from the town of Whitehorse. An affidavit has been signed and witnessed stating that Mr. McAlister did without just cause murder a Mr. Perry Harvey on the night of March 15th, 1899. I’ve read the affidavits and the witness reports and I’d like to hear from the parties themselves. Even though this is only a primary hearing to determine if we should go forward, everyone will still be under oath. Is that understood? Good, let us proceed.”
     “State your name for the court,” said the Magistrate.
     “Miss Hazel Strump.”
     “Is this your affidavit on what happened that night?”
     “Yes, I recon so, I can’t read but that’s my mark right there.”
     “It says here that you saw what happened from across the street while you where standing in front of Whiskey Joe’s saloon, please tell the court in your own words what happened.”
     “It’s all written down there isn’t it?” Replied Hazel, squirming in the chair.
     “I’d like you to tell me what happen and you know of course that you’re under oath?”
     “Well it’s like it says on that paper there, I had just left the saloon and was across the street adjusting my coat against the weather when I saw all those people come out of the Imperial Theater, and then I saw that man, shoot Mr. Harvey.”
     “Uh huh, and how far away from the shooting would you say you where?”
     “I can’t rightly say, the theater is only a couple of doors down across the street. But, I seen everything just as clear as you are,” said Hazel, her hands kneading her skirt.
     “And you say that you saw a lot people leaving the theater?”
     “Yes, that’s right, a lot of them folks.”
     “How long do you suppose you were standing there?”
     “Not very long, everything happened so fast.”
     “And where was Mr. Harvey when you first saw him?”
     “He was walking in front of Mr. McAlister, and then he shot him,” said Hazel pointing to Henry. “For no reason at all.”
     “Did Mr. Harvey have a gun?”
     “I believe he did, I think he shot at Mr. McAlister after he was shot.”
     “Have you ever seen Mr. McAlister before?” Said the Magistrate, while glancing over the affidavit from the bar keeper.
     “I don’t believe so, I may have, there are so many men in the saloon, and I can’t remember them all.”
     The crowd laughed as a flushed hazel stammered.
     “I’m sure…I have an affidavit from the bar keeper there that Mr. McAlister and Mr. Harvey had a fight a few nights before and that you were there, is that right?”
     “It may have been him, I don’t remember,” said Hazel clutching her purse.
     “I see, is there anything else you’d like to add?”
     “No, it’s all right there on that paper.”
     “You may go back to your seat now. I’d like to talk to Mr. McAlister now,” ordered the Magistrate.
     Henry firmly answered the questions from the Magistrate retelling what had happen on the night that he had shot Mr. Harvey.
     “Is there anything you’d like to add?”
     “There is one thing, it’s that Mr. Harvey’s brother over there threatened to harm Miss Katherine Thorton if I didn’t pay him some money to drop the case.”
     “He’s lying,” shouted Clayton, from the third row of the audience.
     “Sit down! I’ll hear from you later.”
     “Mr. McAlister you can go back to your seat. Is Doctor Doseman here?”
     “Did you examine the body of Mr. Harvey after the shooting?”
     “Yes Judge I did.”
     “And what do you consider to be the cause of death?”
     “A gunshot through the victim’s eye. I was told it was from Mr. McAlister’s derringer.”
     “Do we have the derringer here? May I see it?”
     “Here it Judge,” said a Mountie. “Miss Katherine gave it to us.”
     The judge examined the small derringer, feeling its weight and power in his hand and said, “That’s a small weapon, doesn’t seem likely it could kill a man.”
     “Normally I don’t suppose it would, but the bullet when through Mr. Harvey’s eye and into his brain. He was probably dead before he hit the boardwalk.”
     “So you’re saying that Mr. Harvey couldn’t have fired at Mr. McAlister after he was shot.”
     “Not likely.”
     “Thank you Doctor, you may return to your seat. I don’t think I need to hear anymore, I have a notion of what’s going on here. Mr. McAlister, would you please stand. As Magistrate of and for the Canadian Yukon territories and for the town of Whitehorse, I hereby declare that all charges against Mr. McAlister be dropped. Ah, officers would you kindly escort Miss Hazel Strump and Mr. Harvey there to a jail cell, I’ll deal with them later. Case dismissed.”
     Katherine rushed over to Henry and wrapped her arms around him saying, “Henry, Henry, you’re free.”
                                                               #
To be continued.........

2011-06-03T13:25:00.002-05:00

                            Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                        CHAPTER FIFTEEN
                                     Chapter fifteen-part two

     “Right nice cell you got here Mr. Henry,” said Clayton Harvey, leaning against the outside of the cell bars, a half smoked cigar clinched between his teeth, its smoke curling up under his hat.
     “Who are you and what do you want?” Said Henry, lying on his cot, his face to the wall.
     “I’m Perry’s brother, and I just come by to see who murdered him.”
     “I didn’t murder anyone, he was a drunk and a robber, he got what was coming to him.”
     “That’s not what Hazel says, she’s a right friendly lady and she’s been real cooperative too, after I helped her with some financial problems she was having.”
     “It don’t matter what she says, everyone saw what happened.”
     “Maybe, maybe not, it would be a shame if you were to be in here and something was to happen to your lady friend.”
     “You stay away from Katherine or I’ll---” said Henry rushing towards the bars.
     “Or what? Not much you can do about things here behind these iron bars and I hear the judge is gonna be a while till he arrives.”
     “You stay away from Katherine, I’ll kill you for sure if something happens to her,” said Henry reaching though the iron bars to seize Clayton, who stood just out of Henry’s reach, smiling.
     “You should watch that temper Mr. Henry, it might get you into trouble. I hear you struck it rich in Dawson, I could make things go away if you were to be helpful to me.”
     “What do you what?”
     “I’m a poor man Mr. Henry and I mean to get out of this frozen waste of a land and if you were to say, lend me, let’s say 500 hundred dollars, I could just vanish in the wind and your troubles would be over.”
     “I’m not payin’ and if anything happens to Katherine, you and that lying whore Hazel wouldn’t be able to run far enough,” said Henry, his hands wrenching at the iron bars.
     “Well you think about what I said, you’ll change your feelings about things, iron bars have a way of closing in on a person,” said Clayton, throwing his cigar butt on the wooden floor and crushing it under his boot. “You think about it, I have some visiting to do,” Clayton said grinning and tipping his hat to Henry as he walked away.
                                                                 #
     “Henry are you all right? I brought you some beef sandwiches and some pie.”
     “I always feel better when you visit,” said Henry, trying to keep his worries from shading his face in front of Katherine.
     “Henry I’m worried, you’ve been in here three weeks now and not one of those Mounties can tell me when the judge is going to arrive.”
     “Don’t fret about it, it’s not so bad, at least I don’t have to deal with the spring rain and mud while I’m in here,” said Henry forcing a weak smile. “When are you leaving?”
     “I’m not, I couldn’t think about leaving while you’re stuck behind these awful bars. I’ve already sent a telegram to father explaining everything that’s happened.”
     “You should leave, I want you to leave, it would be safer, they have your written statements. Everything will be cleared up when the judge arrives.”
     “Safer?”
     “Well I didn’t want to tell you because I thought you would be leaving, but---”
     “But what Henry?”
     “It’s just that there was a man in here, Perry’s brother, and well, he kind of said something about you, and said that if I paid him some money he would go away.”
     “You’re not going to pay him are you? You’re innocent, everybody knows that.”
     “I wasn’t going too, but if you’re staying, well, he said some things that makes me think he might try and hurt you. You haven’t seen any strangers following you have you?”
     “No I don’t think so---wait, now that I think about it, there has been this one man, he’s been at the church and he always sits by himself in the back row, oh Henry, what do you think he wants?”
     “He’s just trying to scare you is all, so I’ll pay him the money he wants. I don’t want you to go out by yourself, have Uncle Mordecai go with you.”
     “All right Henry, I’ll tell him.”
     “And I want you to take my revolver.”
     “Your revolver? Henry I can’t, you know how afraid I am of those things.”
     “Then take my derringer, it doesn’t even have to be loaded, you can hide it in your bag, it’s just to scare him if he tries to hurt you. You can do that for me can’t you? I would never forgive myself if anything where to happen to you.”
     “Well all right Henry, I’ll have Uncle put it in my bag for me, but I’d be too scared to use it.”
                                                                #
To be continued........

2011-05-31T10:29:00.001-05:00

                             Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                      CHAPTER FIFTEEN
                                     Chapter fifteen-part one

     Except for its iron bars that were bolted over its windows the jailhouse looked like any other wooden structure in Whitehorse City, it nestled its unimposing facade between Walton’s warehouse and the general store on the west side of Dudley street. The interior was clean and organized and its floors were kept rigorously free of the mud that was trampled in every day. Printed wanted posters of the Yukon’s most wanted criminals adorned the walls in evenly spaced orderly rows on its white painted pine plank walls, the dull black eyes of the wanted glaring into the room. The most wanted of these was Cleaves Swubird from Yosemite, California, Marvin Martian, an invader from the black star-filled northern reaches and the most wanted villainess of the frozen Yukon, Ma Willma Wiccanfae, a woman who was tireless in pursuing her evil craft. The jailhouse accommodated six cells made with iron bars, three on either side of a corridor that lead to the bolted back door and the outhouse beyond, a cast iron stove perked heat into the room and a drunken miner was asleep in the first cell, with Henry laying on his cot in the last cell. Captain John Larrabee and Constable Jim Hembry sat behind their desks disinterested in anything but their paperwork and only gave Katherine and Uncle Mordecai a curious glance as they entered.
     “We’re here to see Henry McAlister and to give our statements,” said Mordecai, to the Captain seated behind his desk.
     “Write your statements down here,” said the disinterested Mountie, passing a statement book to Mordecai. “The Magistrate will take it into consideration when he gets here.”
     “When will that be?” Asked Mordecai.
     “Could be next week, could be a month from now, he’s making his stops along his judicial circuit.”
     “You don’t know where he is?”
     “He’s been sent for.”
     “What about Henry, does he have to stay in that jail cell?”
      “Until the facts have been cleared up, that’s the procedure.”
     Constable Hembry looked up from his paperwork as Mordecai’s voice became louder, ready to step in and lend his force to the situation if needed.
     “That ain’t right,” complained Mordecai. “I’m the one who was shot and I have the bullet hole to show for it, he shouldn’t have to pay for it by sitting in a jail cell.”
     “You can tell it to the Magistrate when he gets here, he’ll determine what needs to be done,” said the Captain, weary from having to deal with the stories of innocence that he always heard from everyone.
     “Why that’s just ridiculous, Henry would never kill anyone,” said Katherine.
     “Listen ma’am, there isn’t anything I can do, the complaint is clear, it states that Mr. McAlister over there, had a fight with Mr. Perry Harvey and that when Mr. McAlister saw Mr. Harvey outside the theater that night, he shot him without warning.”
     “That’s not true, that man was trying to rob us,” said Katherine. “Who said that?”
     “A Miss Hazel Strump, she says she was across the street and witnessed the shooting.”
     An appalled Katherine remarked, “Can’t you do something? Henry’s not a murderer.”
     “Ma’am, all I can do is wait for the Magistrate and it’s my duty to keep Mr. McAlister locked up.”
     “This is all just ridiculous,” an infuriated Katherine said. “Where’s Henry? Can I see him?”
     The Captain pointed his pencil in the direction of the jail cells behind her and returned to sort through his paperwork.
     Katherine rushed over to Henry’s cell and clasped his hands through the bars and said, “Henry are you all right? This is just horrible, seeing you in here like this.”
     “I’m all right, you needn’t worry, it’s all a mistake. I’m sure it will only be for a couple of days.”
     “I’ve never heard of such a thing, it’s just ridiculous, uncle and I will do everything we can to get you out of here Henry,” said Katherine. “And I’ll come by every day to see you.”
                                                                        #
To be continued........

2011-05-28T13:28:00.001-05:00

                           Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                 CHAPTER FOURTEEN
                                 Chapter fourteen-part five

     “You should of seen it Uncle,” said an excited Katherine. “That huge dog pulling that heavy sleigh down the street.”
     “I wish I would have had a dog like that when I was hauling provisions up the trail, I would have taken a dozen of them if I could,” said Henry.
     “Who can that be?” Said uncle Mordecai, after the firm knocking on the door had ceased.
     “Are you Henry McAlister?” The red coated Mountie asked.
     “No I ain’t,” replied Mordecai. “What do you want him for?”
     “That’s official business, where is he?” Replied the Mountie shouldering his way past Mordecai into the room.
     “I’m Henry.”
     “Come along with us,” said the Mountie, grabbing Henry by the arm. “Better handcuff him Jim.”
     “What’s this all about?” Said a worried Katherine.
     “Murder,” the Mountie relied in a stern voice.
     “Murder? I ain’t killed no one,” said Henry struggling against the two Mounties, who held firm against his resistance.
     “That’s nonsense,” said Mordecai. “Henry here ain’t no killer.”
     “It’s not nonsense when a man is shot dead by Mr. McAlister, outside the Imperial Theater.”
     “Why, why that was in self-defense, that man was trying to rob us,” said Katherine.
     “Tell it to the magistrate, we have a signed complaint against Mr. McAlister.”
     “From who?” Asked Mordecai.
     “From the man’s brother, he arrived a week ago and signed the complaint along with Miss Hazel Strump,” replied the Mountie. “Come along.”
     “You release Henry this instant,” demanded Katherine. “Uncle and I where there, we saw the whole thing, I demand that you release him.”
     “You can tell your story to the sheriff at the jailhouse.”
     “Henry, Henry,” pleaded a distraught Katherine.
     “Kay, stay here, it’s all a mistake,” said Henry, walking out the door with the Mounties.
                                                                     #
To be continued..........

2011-05-26T12:21:00.002-05:00

                             Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                        CHAPTER FOURTEEN
                                    Chapter fourteen-part four

     Henry dreaded the coming of spring, with its arrival in a few short weeks he knew that Katherine would have to leave, every night he tried to summon the courage within himself to ask her. The long grey months of winter had been filled with her companionship, diners at the Yukon Star hotel and happy evenings of parlor activities with her, Uncle Mordecai and even Margaret, who had taken over most of the duties of helping Uncle Mordecai at his church. Henry kept the question bright in his mind, but the doubts always talked to him, ‘you’re just a simple farm boy’, ‘you don’t know anything of the world’, ‘she deserves someone more cultured’, ‘no one will accept you’, ‘THEY WILL LAUGH AT HER’.
     “Henry do you think Uncle will like the hat I bought him?” Asked Katherine as they left Levi’s apparel store.
     “I don’t know why not, it’s a fine beaver hat,” said Henry, his arm around Katherine’s waist guiding her along the snow covered boardwalk. “But I think you paid too much for it.”
     “Well maybe so, but he is my uncle, and besides it will give him something to remember me by when I’m gone.”
     “Are you sure you have to leave?” Said Henry, troubled by her having to leave and troubled by the question he was afraid to ask.
     “Yes Henry, father is waiting and he insists that I go back to school. I don’t know why you won’t come with me. Father would love to meet you.”
     “I haven’t decided yet, I’m afraid I just wouldn’t fit in.”
     “Oh nonsense Henry, father and mother would be pleased to meet you.”
     “Maybe. It’s just that you’re so much more refined than I am, I’d just make a fool of myself.”
     “Henry, sometimes you say the silliest things, everyone is just like everyone else, some people just like to put on airs that’s all, once you realize that it makes things a lot easier.”
     “Maybe.”
     Excited miners lined both sides of the frozen snow covered street, cheering and waving their hands in the air, causing Katherine to remark, “What’s happening over there?”
     “I don’t know,” replied Henry. “Let’s go see. Watch your step Kay.” Henry said helping Katherine navigate across the boot prints that were frozen in the mud.
     Henry and Kay pushed their way through the crowd of miners toward the front of the line that had formed on both sides of the street, everyone watching the spectacle of a large white dog that had been harnessed to a sleigh loaded with supplies.
     “What’s’ going on?” Asked Henry to the enthusiastic miner beside him.
     “It’s a contest, see that man over there,” the miner replied. “He says that his dog can pull that sleigh 300 hundred feet up the street, without any help, I say it can’t be done and I have 20 dollars gold agin him, he can’t, the runners are frozen to the ground. He can’t. It would take two, three, full grown men to do it.”
     “Henry, do you think he can do it? It seems so cruel,” asked Katherine.
     “I bet he can, look at the size of that dog, it ain’t cruel, just look at him he’s eager to go.”
     Henry and Katherine watched as the owner knelt beside his dog, petting its head and whispering into its ear. The dog reared up and strained against the fully loaded sleigh, its claws churning away at the frozen ground, swinging to the right and swinging to left as his owner whistled commands, breaking the sleigh free from the grip of the street. Its muscled body hunched down with every muscle straining to move the sleigh forward.
     “Look at that, the sleigh’s moving,” exclaimed Henry.
     The dog steady in its purpose churned at the ground, pieces of frozen mud scattering behind his feet as he struggled, ten feet, fifty feet, one hundred feet, the dog kept pulling the sleigh, obeying the whistled commands of its owner, the crowd of miners cheering and yelling at every foot the sleigh travel up the street, two hundred feet, three hundred, the owner whistled ‘stop’ and the exhausted dog ceased its toil and the owner rushed to its side, lavishly praising the dog, the miners cheered and shouted out how much they would pay for the dog, a cloud of hats floating above them.
     “I don’t believe it,” said the losing bettor beside Henry. “I’d pay a thousand dollars for that dog.”
     “I don’t think the owner will ever sell him,” said Henry, looking over towards the owner and the dog. “Come on Kay, it’s getting colder, we best get back.”
                                                                 #
To be continued..........

2011-05-24T10:27:00.002-05:00

                            Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                       CHAPTER FOURTEEN
                                    Chapter fourteen-part three

      Henry was surprised by the appearance of the woman who stood in the hallway, she was as tall as he was, with her red hair braided on top of her head, and she was wearing a plain gray dress with the only adornment being a white cameo pinned to her lapel, she carried a large satchel in one hand and had the stern look of a woman who meant business and wasn’t about to be involved with any trivial matters.
     “My name is Margaret O’ Shay, Doctor Doseman sent me, are you Henry?”
     “Yes I am, come in please.”
     “Doctor Doseman informed me of your needs, and I would be glad to be of service,” said Margaret without a smile. “Would you like to see my credentials?”
     “That won’t be necessary, if Doctor Doseman sent you then you must be the best. I’ll accept nothing but the best care for Mordecai.”
     “That’s understood sir, my fee is---”
     “That’s’ not necessary either, I’ll pay for whatever is needed,” said Henry. “Oh, this is Katherine,” said Henry noticing Katherine coming from Mordecai’s room.
     “I was just informing your husband that Doctor Doseman had sent me and I’m ready to start.”
     “Henry’s not my husband, he’s just a dear friend that is helping me with my uncle.”
     “Ah, I see, my I see the patient now?”
     “My uncle is right over here, please follow me, he’s been badly wounded by a robber.”
     “Gunshots are not to be taken lightly, mam, they have to be watched so they don’t fester. Has he been awake at all?”
     “No, that’s what has me worried,” said Katherine. “He has been moaning and coughing.”
     “It’s nothing to worry about, it’s good to let him sleep, his body has taken an inconvenience and needs to heal itself.”
     “If there’s anything you need, medical supplies, medicine, I can get it for you.” said Henry.
     “Thank you, I don’t need anything at the moment I’ve brought some supplies with me,” Margaret said. “I need to examine the patient, would you mind leaving the room?”
     “Certainly,” said Henry. “If there’s anything you need.”
     “Thank you,” Margaret replied.
     “Henry, do you think we’re doing the right thing?”
     “Yes, she seems very competent, and we’ll be here, and the Doctor is just down the street.”
                                                               #
     “Gin,” said Katherine with a triumphal air.
     “Again? I think you cheated,” replied Henry, spreading his cards on the table.
     “Henry that’s a terrible thing to say to a lady,” smiled Katherine. “Let’s see how much you owe me this time.”
     “Get away from me woman,” came the loud voice of Mordecai from the other room.
     “What is it this time Uncle?” Said Katherine standing with Henry in the doorway.
     “I need to use the outhouse and this, this woman wouldn’t let me out of bed.”
     “Doctor’s orders are that you stay in bed for a couple of more days,” a determined Margaret said, pushing Mordecai back onto his mattress. “Bedpan.”
     “It’s been six weeks, ain’t you tired of seeing what comes out of me? Now let me up.”
     “No, Doctor’s orders.”
     “Katherine, Henry, help me get away from this woman,” pleaded Mordecai.
     “I’m afraid you’re on your own Preacher, Margaret’s in charge of your recuperation,” laughed Henry, returning to his game of Gin with Katherine.
     “I don’t think Uncle can take too many more days in that bed.”
     “I’m surprised that Margaret hasn’t tied him down, the way he’s been acting this past week,” said Henry.“And you know something? I think he kind of likes it, getting all that attention from Margaret. I think he’s bellowerin’ too much.”
     “You think so Henry? They do seem to get along, even when they’re arguing with each other,” Katherine smiled. “Oh, Henry, I forgot to mention that I received a telegram from father the other day, he says that he’s very proud of the way we handled everything and that he’s indebted to you for taking care of Uncle Mordecai and me.”
     “He said that? I just did what anyone would have done.”
     “And he says that because of all the snowy weather we’re having at this time, that I shouldn’t try to make it back home, it’s too dangerous, he said I should wait until spring to return.”
     “That’s good news.”
     “What? That I’ll be staying longer?”
     “No, that I’ll have a chance to win some of my money back,” laughed Henry.
                                                                          #
To be continued..........

2011-05-21T15:33:00.001-05:00

                            Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                       CHAPTER FOURTEEN
                                    Chapter fourteen-part two

     “The bleeding has stopped,” noted the Doctor. “That’s a good sign.”
     “Will he be all right?” Asked Katherine.
     “I think so, the bullet passed clean through, his breathing is clear, I don’t think it did any damage to his lung and I doubt if it hit anything vital. A couple of inches higher and it could have been a different story, he’s a strong man, I’m sure he’ll be awake in a day or so.”
     “Are you sure, is there anything we can do?” Asked Henry.
     “Pert near sure, during the war I saw a lot worse, terrible wounds, men with their legs and limbs torn off and they survived.”
     “Doctor please, Katherine is distressed enough without your telling gruesome war stories.”
     “Yes you’re right, my apologizes Miss Katherine,” said the Doctor. “Don’t you fret none Miss Katherine, your uncle will be fine in a day or so. Henry may I see you for a moment?” Said the Doctor walking with Henry to the far side of the room.
     “What is it Doctor?” Whispered Henry.
     “How’s Miss Katherine faring?”
     “As well as could be I suppose, she’s very worried.”
     “Well that’s only natural, just make sure she gets enough sleep, sleep can do wonders for a person, and make sure she eats something, I don’t need any more patients.”
     “Yes Doctor I will.”
     “Oh and Henry, another thing, Mordecai being incapacitated is, is well, he’s going to empty his bowels and it could be messy, it needs to be taken care of. Miss Katherine shouldn’t be involved in that sort of thing, you could care of it, but, with your permission I would like to send a nurse over to attend to Mordecai, she’ll see to it that he’s kept comfortable and can attend to his bandages.”
     “Yes, a nurse would be the exact thing to do, I’m sure it would ease Katherine’s mind if a nurse was here, and don’t worry about the expense, I’ll take care of everything, you can be assured, I want everything possible done to help Mordecai.”
     “I’ll send her over directly, she’ll know what to do,” said the Doctor. “Good morning Miss Katherine, good day Henry.”
     “Good day Doctor,” replied Henry and Katherine.
     “What did the Doctor want to talk to you about? What did he say Henry?” Said a worried Katherine.
     “Nothing that you need to worry about, he just suggested that he send a nurse over to help out is all.”
     “A nurse? Why does he need a nurse? He’s going to be all right isn’t he? What are you not telling me Henry?”
     “It’s nothing, Mordecai is going to be fine, it’s just that the nurse knows what to do, and can take care of things.”
     “What things? I can take care of Uncle Mordecai.”
     “I’m sure you can, it’s just that, well it’s just that,” stammered Henry. “It’s just that he needs to be kept clean and he won’t be able to do for himself for a while, and well, it would be better if a nurse did it, that’s all.”
     “How is it better to have a stranger do what I can do?”
     “It’s not that simple, the bandages need to be changed and, and well, well he’s going to have to use the outhouse, in his bed, and well, I don’t think your uncle would be very pleased if you were to be, ah,-----without his clothes on, all naked and such.”
     “Oh,” said an embarrassed Katherine. “I see what you mean, yes uncle would much prefer that a nurse take care of him in that way. But I’m going to be here every minute of the day to help as much as I can.”
     “Nobody was suggesting anything else, and I’ll be here too, I feel responsible for what happened.”
     “How where you responsible for what happened? It was surely someone trying to rob us.”
     “No it wasn’t, it was someone I met, he was after me, and that’s why I feel responsible for what happened.”
     “After you, why?”
     “It was someone I had a fight with the other day in the saloon, and I guess he wanted to get revenge, I don’t know why, fights happen all the time in a saloon, it’s just what happens, it’s kind of expected.”
     “Well I certainly hope it doesn’t happen again.”
     “Kay, he attacked me, and I made him wish he hadn’t that’s all.”
     “I see, fighting is not the gentlemanly thing to do Henry, you need to be careful, and for Heaven’s sake don’t mention it to uncle, he’d never understand.”
     “And you do?”
     “I could see how things mite happen, may mind you, but that doesn’t mean I approve. Things just happen, that’s all.”
                                                                       #
To be continued...........

2011-05-17T15:03:00.003-05:00

                              Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                        CHAPTER FOURTEEN
                                       Chapter fourteen-part one

     “Will he be all right doctor?” Asked a worried Henry.
     “Too early to say,’ replied the Doctor. “He was lucky, the bullet passed clean through under his ribcage, the next three days will tell.”
     “Is there anything we can do?”
     “Don’t recon so, it’s in the Lord’s hands now, just keep him warm, I’ll be back in the morning to check on him. Here take this,” said the Doctor handing Henry a small brown paper packet.
     “What is it?”
     “Laudanum.”
     Henry took the small packet and looked at the white powder inside, wondering what he was to do with it and asked, “You want me to give it to him?”
     “It’s not for the Preacher, it’s for Miss Katherine, it will help her sleep,” said the Doctor. “Mix it in a glass of water and have her drink it all. I’ll be back in the morning to check on you, good night.”
      “Thank you Doctor.”
     Katherine knelt beside the bed of her uncle, holding his hand and sobbing, the Preacher was stretched out on the bed, his chest wrapped in white bandages, and a small red stain marked where the bullet had hit him, his breathing was course but steady and his face an ashen gray.
     “The Doctor says he’ll be all right,” said Henry softly.
     “Oh, Henry,” sobbed Katherine.
     “This is all my fault, if I hadn’t----”
     “No it’s not Henry, it was that wicked man. Why would he do such a thing?”
     Henry paused and thought about his reply, the man he had shot being someone he had fought with at the bar, seeking revenge on him, and the Preacher was the one who had paid for his actions that night.
“I don’t know,” replied Henry, deciding that it would be better to explain to Katherine why it had happen after her uncle had recovered. “Here, the Doctor wants you to drink this.”
     “What is it?”
     “He said it will help you sleep.”
     “I can’t, not now,” wept Katherine.
     “Please take it, it will help, I’ll watch Mordecai while you rest, you need to rest.”
     “Oh Henry, why did this happen it’s all so terrible?”
     “We’ll talk about it after you’ve had some rest,” said Henry, leading Katherine into her room.
     “Lie down, I’ll watch over your uncle for you.”
     “I shouldn’t.”
     “Please,” said Henry, helping her lay down and dimming the lanterns.
                                                                         #
     The night passed slowly as Henry watched Mordecai laying in his bed, the yellow light from the lantern haloing over the room, Henry cautiously watched Mordecai’s chest rise and fall in its rhythmic pace, wringing his hands in worry, with his mind telling him that it should be him that was lying there, fighting to stay alive. Images and thoughts passing through his mind, ‘how could he explain to Katherine what he had done to cause this,’ ‘would Mordecai blame him for insisting on going to the play,’ ‘why had the miner tried to kill him, a simple bar fight was all that had happened, actions that he had seen in every saloon whenever he had been in one, there was no cause to take it any further,’ ‘why, why, why,’ ‘what had he done to cause so much death to be around him,’ ‘why had he survived,’ ‘was he cursed in someway,’ ‘what was he to do,’ ‘other men went though their whole lives without any of this happening to them,’ ‘why, why, why’ ‘was he endangering Katherine,’ ‘should he leave Whitehorse and never come back so as to protect her,’.
                                                                          #
     “Is he, is he all right?” Said Katherine softly, startling Henry.
     “Yes I think so, he’s been quiet all night, just coughed a couples of times.”
     “Have you been up all night?” Asked Katherine. “Henry this is terrible, whatever can we do?”
     “Don’t fret now, you’ll just make yourself sick, and it wouldn’t help Mordecai none,” said Henry, holding Katherine. “The Doctor will be here soon.”
     “Do you think the Doctor will be able to help?”
     “I’ll sure he can, your uncle is a strong man, in a day or so I’m sure he’ll be preaching again,” said Henry. “Maybe you should go and lay down, just until the Doctor arrives.”
     “No, I think I should be here.”
     “Just until the Doctor arrives, then I want you to get some rest,” said Henry helping Katherine to her chair.
Henry and Katherine waited quietly in the dimly lit room, Katherine reading from her uncle’s Bible while Henry sat next to the bed watching Mordecai and glancing over towards Katherine only to see the worry that filled her face. Worry, doubt and a feeling of lonely helplessness filled Henry as he sat there, not knowing, a feeling he had not had since his mother had died.
                                                                        #
To be continued...........

2011-05-14T10:02:00.003-05:00

                              Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                     CHAPTER THIRTEEN
                                    Chapter thirteen-part four

     “Did you like the play?” Asked Henry after the actors took their final bow and the applause from the audience had subsided.
     “Oh, it was wonderful Henry, I enjoyed myself immensely,” replied Katherine with a broad smile.
     “What about you sir, what did you think?”
     “It was a fair night’s entertainment,” gruffed the Preacher.
     “Ahem,” said Katherine.
     “What I mean to say Henry is, I enjoyed it more than I thought I would, thank you for inviting us.”
     “I’m glad you both enjoyed it, it certainly was thrilling as far as I’m concerned. How they could remember all those lines, I could never be an actor, I’d be too embarrassed in front of all those people, it must be a lot of hard work.”
     “I’m sure it is, but it must be very rewarding to have so many people appreciate your performances.”
     “What’s your name little lady,” said a drunken Ross Hodson standing in front of the table. “I think you’re the prettiest little thing around. Let’s have a drink.”
     “Sir, please leave,” said the Preacher.
     “Sit down old man, I’m talking to the little lady,” said Ross, pushing the Preacher back into his chair and grabbing Katherine’s wrist.
     “Let go of her, or…” demanded Henry.
     “Or what sonny?”
     Henry thrust a fork into the man’s arm and his fist landed on the man’s jaw sending the drunk reeling backwards into the table behind him, up turning the table and causing the plates of food to come cashing down onto his chest as he fell to the floor. ‘grab him’, said the nearby men as the waiters and maître d' came rushing to the scene.
     “I’m so sorry,” said the nervous maître d' to Henry. “This has never happened before. Are you all right?”
     “I’m fine, I’m fine, no harm done. Are you all right Katherine?”
     “Yes I think so, just a little flustered. Henry you could have been hurt.”
     “I don’t think so, the man was drunk.”
    “The devil’s brew is what done it,” said the Preacher.
                                                                         #
     Henry and Katherine walked together along the wooden boardwalk laughing about what they had liked about the play, Katherine’s uncle walking a few paces behind, studying Henry’s every action, waiting for his chance to chastise him if Henry acted in an improper manner, as the Preacher was sure Henry would.
     “I’ve been waiting for you, ya Eastern dandy,” said the long bearded miner, stepping out from the darkened doorway.
     “Henry look out!” Yelled a frightened Katherine.
     Henry turned and pushed Katherine towards the wall and leaped at the man, a bullet tearing though Henry’s overcoat under his armpit, leaving a smoking hole as it passed, Henry grabbed the man’s wrist thrusting the gun upwards, Katherine screamed and rushed to the side of her uncle who lay on the wooden boardwalk. Henry twisted the man’s hand back against his wrist snapping his right forefinger, the gun dropping onto the planks as Henry and the man fought, each wrestling to gain control of the other, Henry grasped the man by his heavy coat collar, throwing him headfirst into a porch post, the miner bounced off of it and down the steps into the dirt road. Henry rushed to Katherine’s uncle and pressed his hand against the bleeding wound in the Preacher’s chest.
     “SOMEBODY GO FETCH A DOCTOR,” Henry screamed at the theater patrons who stood mesmerized at the scene played out before them.
     “HENRY!” Exclaimed Katherine.
     The dazed miner staggered towards his gun, seizing it with his left hand and fell backwards onto the boardwalk, blood streaming from his eye, the bullet from Henry’s derringer pursuing its cause into the miner’s brain.
                                                                       #
To be continued.............

2011-05-11T10:52:00.001-05:00

                            Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                    CHAPTER THIRTEEN
                                  Chapter thirteen-part three

     “May I see your tickets please?” Said the maître d' standing next to his podium, where a braided gold colored rope was strung across the entrance to the dining area.
     “Here they are,” said Henry proudly. “I’ve reserved a table too, you’ll find it under McAlister, Henry McAlister.”
     “Yes here it is, table 26, an excellent location for viewing the show. Please follow me,” said the maître d'.
     “I hope you enjoy the show, they say it was a big success in Kansas City, that’s where it’s from you know.”
     “I’m sure it will be delightful, Henry.”
     The dining area was crowded with excited patrons waiting for the show, a haze of blue smoke drifted above the crowd, kept aloft by the cigar smokers at their tables who were excitedly telling their stories to their friends and gesturing in the air with the cigar smoke following their every word and the oil lanterns that adorned the wallpapered walls, a small band had set itself near the stage’s east end and the stage at the north end of the room was adorned with gold fabric on the sides with a red velvet curtain that hung from the ceiling concealing the stage. The patron’s voices mingled together in an ever increasing din of unrecognizable chatter as the room gathered more storekeepers, miners, and businessmen from the town, ready to view what they hoped would be a night of joy and comedy. Waiters weaved among the white clothed tables with trays raised above the guests, snaking thought the forest of chairs until they reached their assigned tables and deposited the drinks and food in front of the correct guest, who greeted their arrival as if they had never seen food before. The white coated maître d' skillfully guided Henry, Katherine and her uncle, who was determined not to show any signs of having a good time, along an unseen path to the table that Henry had reserved.
     “After you,” said Henry to Katherine as they reached their table. “Preacher.”
     “I hope you enjoy the show,” said the maître d'. “Ah, here’s your waiter now.”
     “May I get you something to drink?” Asked the waiter.
     “I’ll just have some coffee,” said Katherine.
     “Sir, may I interested you in a bottle of our finest wine?” remarked the waiter to Katherine’s uncle.
     “I don’t approve of alcohol, I’ll have some tea.”
     “And you sir?”
     “Ah, coffee will be fine,” said a disappointed Henry. Henry had hoped that some whiskey would loosen Katherine’s uncle stiff collar, Henry could only hope that the show would be entertaining, humorous and not too risqué, he wanted to make a good impression on the Preacher and on Miss Katherine. “How soon before the show starts?” Asked Henry.
     “I believe the show will start on time, sir, in about 40 minutes,” replied the waiter after looking at his pocket watch. “Would you like to order now? The chef has prepared a very special meal for tonight of roast duck, boiled potatoes and onions with black mushroom soup.”
     “That sounds wonderful,” said Katharine.
     Henry and the Preacher nodded their approval and the waiter left saying he would return with their drinks.
     “This is very exciting,” smiled Katherine. “Don’t you think so Uncle?”
     “Yep,” grunted the Preacher, exhaling on his knife and wiping it with his white linen napkin.
      “I’m sure it’s not as grand as some of the places you’ve been to in San Francisco.”
     “Well of course it’s not, there aren’t many places that are I suppose, but I wasn’t expecting the Palace Theater.”
     “I must admit that this is the first play I’ve ever been to, I find it very exciting too, just look at everybody, they all seem to be having a wonderful time.”
     “You’ve never been to a play before? Why, I don’t believe you Henry,” teased Katherine.
     “I’m afraid I haven’t, this is all strange and new to me. Where I come from we didn’t have such things as theaters with real actors and singers, we pretty much had to work all the time.”
     “Where was that Henry? You never did tell me where you’re from.”
     “I’m from Oregon,” said Henry not wanting to have Katherine think he was just a foolish farm boy. “Have you seen a lot of plays?” Henry asked, trying to turn the conversation away from his past.
     “Henry, Oregon is a big state, what did you do there, what about your mother and father?” Persisted Katherine.
     “It’s mostly like I said, we had to work all the time and didn’t get much time for entertainment,” stammered Henry, feeling the Preacher watching him intensely.
     “Well boy, what about your parents, where are they?” Asked the preacher.
     “My ma and pa are---” Henry stopped as the band began to play the opening chords for the play and the waiters went about dimming the wall lanterns.Henry breathed a little easier as the lights at the foot of the stage began to glow brighter and the curtain parted revealing the actors behind, set to begin their parts. Henry watched in amazement as the actors went about performing their roles, he found it fascinating at how they could get the audience to laugh and how much there was to acting. The show was filled with actors performing brief sketches, and then the curtain would close and open again to reveal another scene complete with new characters, furniture and backdrops, the play also had singers who would stand alone on the stage, singling popular songs that the crowd knew, but which Henry could only remember pieces of, and they would sing in a foreign language, which Henry didn’t recognize, there were also jugglers and acrobats that pranced on the stage, Henry liked them the best, he marveled at the jugglers when they performed their act, throwing their sharp knifes into the air and catching them without anyone getting hurt. Henry watched as Katherine laughed when a troop of small dogs danced and twirled at the gestures of their trainer and jumped through hoops on the stage, he even noticed a slight smile wisp across the Preacher’s face when two of the dogs in lacy white skirts twirled around on their hind legs, imitating ballerinas.
                                                              #
To be continued............

2011-05-07T11:58:00.002-05:00

                            Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                      CHAPTER THIRTEEN
                                   Chapter thirteen-part two

     Henry stood outside the door staring at the hotel room number that was painted on its face, his face itching from his having shaved a half hour earlier, for a few moments he stood there wondering if he should return to his room, he pressed the wrinkles from his jacket and straightened his tie one more time and knocked on the wooden paneled door, its hollow sound repeating like a gallows drums in his ears. Henry dreaded seeing Kay’s uncle again, and hoped he would make a better more ‘proper’ impression on him, Henry wasn’t afraid of anything that Kay’s uncle might say or do, Henry was afraid of what he might do if the preacher pressed him too far, he reminded himself that he was to act only as a fine gentlemen would act, and he mustn’t lose his temper, it was a chance to see Kay again and he hoped her uncle would accept him this time.
     “Who is it?” Came the voice of Kay’s uncle voice as he opened the door. “You! What are you doing here? I told you Katherine doesn’t want anything to do with your kind.”
     Henry swallowed hard to the reference of ‘your kind’ and said, “Sir, I’ve come to apologize for my actions the other morning, I hope you and Miss Katherine will forgive my rudeness, I was feeling under the weather that morning.”
     “That maybe young fellow but Katherine still doesn’t want anything to do with you.”
     “If you’ll pardon me sir, I’d like to hear that from Katherine herself.”
     “Baaah, get out of my doorway and don’t come back,” sneered the preacher as he slammed the door in Henry’s face.
                                                                  #
     “Who was that at the door uncle?” Asked Katherine.
     “No one of importance.”
     “Oh? It sounded like Henry’s voice, it wasn’t Henry was it?”
     Katherine’s uncle sat down in his chair and quickly buried his nose in his Bible and chose not to respond.
     “It was Henry wasn’t it? Why uncle how could you be so heartless to such a nice young man?” Katherine questioned as she went to the door.
      Henry knocked on the door again just as Katherine opened it.
     “Henry,” said Katherine.
     “Good morning Miss Katherine, you’re looking lovely.”
     “Why thank you Henry,” smiled Katherine. “Do come in. Uncle it’s Henry.”
     “Good morning preacher, Miss Katherine, I’ve come here to apologize for my rude behavior the other morning, and I ask both of you to forgive me for my improper behavior.”
     “Why that’s very nice of you Henry, don’t you think so Uncle?” Katherine said as her uncle squirmed in his chair reading his Bible.
     “There’s also another reason I stopped by to see you both. I would like to ask you, Miss Katherine and you too sir, to accompany me to a play at the Imperial Theatre Saturday night, I’ve purchased tickets for the three of us, I hear it’s a wonderful comedy, at least that’s what the man who sold me the tickets said.”
     “That sounds wonderful Henry, it’s been ages since I’ve seen a show, and Uncle and I hardly ever get to go out.”
     “When is it?” Grumbled Katherine’s uncle. “Saturday night? We have a sermon scheduled for Saturday night, I’m afraid Katherine and I can’t accept.”
     “I believe the tickets say the how starts at 8:00 sir,” Henry said in calm firm tone.
     “There you see Uncle, 8:00, that’s well after the sermon, we’d be glad to go with you Henry, wouldn’t we Uncle?”
     Katherine’s uncle sat quietly turning the pages in his Bible.
     “If it’s settled, then I’ll meet you downstairs in the lobby around quarter-past seven.”
     “That would be lovely,” said Katherine. “It was so nice to see you again Henry.”
     “Impertinent young fellow,” Katherine’s uncle quietly grumbled to himself.
                                                               #

To be continued..........

2011-05-05T10:19:00.002-05:00

                          Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                   CHAPTER THIRTEEN
                                 Chapter thirteen-part one

     “Hello honey, how about buying a lady a drink?”
     Henry looked at the saloon whore and said nothing, preferring instead to concentrate on the amber colored whiskey in his glass.
     “Come on handsome, buy a lady a drink.”
     “No! Leave me alone,” said Henry. “Get your hands off of me.”
     “What’s the matter honey, don’t you like girls? Just one drink.”
     “Get away from me,” shouted Henry pushing the whore away from him and into a long bearded miner who was standing at the bar a few feet away.
     “Hey, what’d you do that for?” The miner asked. “I think you oughta buy the lady a drink like she wanted.”
     “I don’t care about what you think and she ain’t no lady.”
     “Are you insulting Hazel here? She’s a good friend of mine, you ought to apologize to her. Who do you think you are anyways? You come in here all nice and pretty like in that suit, we don’t take kindly to no eastern fancy Dans fresh offin’ the boat hitting our women folk. I say you should buy her a drink.”
     Henry nodded towards the barkeep and gestured for him to pour the lady a drink.
     “Well now that’s right friendly of you, I’ll take one too.”
     “No,” said Henry quietly.
   “What’d you say?” Said the miner, stepping up to Henry and pushing him.
     Henry took a sip of his drink and threw the glass into the man’s face, his foot landing hard between the man’s legs causing him to bend over and yell with pain as Henry’s knee smashed into his face breaking his nose and causing the miner to collapse unconscious onto the floor. The boom from the barkeep’s shotgun echoed in Henry’s ear, ‘that’s enough’, the barkeep yelled, ‘get that drunkard off my floor and toss him into the street’, commanded the barkeep.
     “You ain’t gonna be any more trouble are you?” Questioned the barkeep.
     “Get that shotgun outta my face, it ain’t loaded anyway, lest you plan on hitting me with it.”
     “What makes you think it ain’t loaded?”
     “That’s a ’63 Winchester, single shot scattergun, useless except for hunting prairie chickens and I guess stopping barroom fights.”
     The barkeep laughed and went to attend to the waiting customers at the other end of the bar, leaving Henry to his own thoughts.
                                                                       #
     “Pa, can I ask you something?” Asked young Henry.
     “I reckon so, what is it?” Replied Clayton McAlister.
     “It’s about you and ma, when you met ma did you know you was going to get married?”
     “That’s a strange question, you’re kinda young to be thinking about getting married aren’t you?”
     “Not me pa, it’s on account of the story Miss Grundy was reading to the older kids in the classroom while I was supposed to be doing my history lesson at school. It was about someone named Roman and Julie, I think, they was gonna get married but they died, I didn’t like it much cus they spoke funny. What about you pa, did you know you was going to marry ma?”
     “That’s kinda hard to say, maybe so, maybe I was hoping I would, she was the loveliest gal I’d even seen.”
     “Gosh, you mean like in the story?”
     “I don’t think it was quite like Miss Grundy’s story.”
     “How’d you meet ma?”
     “Let’s see, I must have been about 16 then, that’d be 1o years older then you are now.”
     “I can do ‘rithmetic pa, I ain’t no baby.”
     “I know son, you’re real fine at numbers, my brother Jacob and I where at a barn dance on a Saturday in Emporia, that’s near Kansas city, where I used to live before your ma and me moved to Oregon, it was a hot night too, and Jacob and I were having a lot of fun dancing with all the young ladies from around those parts, dancing and hollering and laughing. After a while I got wore out from all the dancing I was doing and I went outside to cool off in the night air and there across the stretch, there was the prettiest gal I’d ever seen, she was talking and giggling along with a bunch of other young ladies outside.”
     “Ma?”
     “Yep, something about her just seemed right, maybe it was the way she was laughing or how pretty she looked in her dress that evening, I was afraid even to look at her then, and I felt kinda like I couldn’t breathe right, you know how after you run real fast you can’t breathe, well that’s kinda how I felt when I looked at her, and my heart was pounding in my chest so fast I thought I was going to keel right over, right there next to the barn.”
     “You was afraid of ma? You’ve never been afraid of nothin’, not even a wild coyote.”
     “Well maybe I wasn’t afraid, but I sure was perplexed.”
     “What happened then?”
     “I went back into the barn and waited for her and her friends to come back in and then when the fiddlers started the next song, I went right over to her and asked her if she’d like to dance. After that, me and her danced every dance that night, and started seeing each other regular, just me and her, getting to know each other. Then after church one Sunday, I went over to her father’s house wearing my best church clothes and I asked her father if I could marry her. He wasn’t too keen on the idea at first, but he finally agreed.”
     “Gosh, why did you ask her father?”
     “Well, that’s just the way it’s done, it’s called being polite and proper.”
     “Clayton, Henry,” yelled Sarah from near the wooden fence.
     “There’s your mother now, I told you it was about dinner time and she’d be along.”
     “Maybe she brought us some of that left over chicken, I sure am hungry,” said young Henry.
                                                                 #
To be continiued...........

2011-05-03T12:15:00.002-05:00

                            Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                       CHAPTER TWELVE
                                      Chapter twelve-part four

     “Ahem,” said Henry.
     “What can I do for you?” Asked the assay clerk, not bothering to look up as he continued to write in his ledger.
     “You told me to come back in a couple of days to check on the gold I brung you.”
     “I did huh? I don’t recall seeing you before, you got your receipt?”
     “Yes sir, here it is right here.”
     “Let’s see now, lot 281,” mumbled the clerk, sifting through his papers. “Yep, finished processing it yesterday, you appear to be a very lucky young man, 80 per cent gold and 20 percent rock, and of higher quality also, yep, you’re a wealthy man now. Carl, bring in lot 281,” yelled the clerk into the back room.
     “How much is it worth?” An excited Henry asked.
     “You want the grand total with or without our fee?” Smiled the clerk.
     “How much, how much?”
     “Minus our processing and handling fee and the government’s reckoning---”
     “The government’s what?”
     “Taxes sir, the governments got to get their pint first. Death and taxes they’re unavoidable,” said the clerk. “It’s a shame they don’t come in that order, isn’t it sir?”
     “I suppose so, well how much is it then?”
     “By my figuring it comes to 26,403 dollars and 42 cents.”
     “How much?” Said a stunned Henry. “Criminy!”
     The clerk watched Henry for a moment, thinking he was about to faint as many others had done and said to Carl, who had wheeled Henry’s box into the front office, “Thank you Carl, wait here a moment while I finish with Mr. McAlister. Ah, Mr. McAlister, if you’d like, I can have Carl here transport your gold over to the First National Bank down the street where it will be safe.”
     “Huh, ah what? Yes, yes, that sounds good. Thank you, thank you.”
     “No problem at all Mr. McAlister, it’s been my pleasure doing business with you.”
                                                               #
     Henry leaned against the porch post watching Katherine’s uncle leave the white chapel building and climb into his wagon and head down the street towards the edge of town and made his way across the crowded street. The chapel was empty, as he had hoped it would be, with only Katherine on the front stage practicing her piano, he quietly closed the door behind him and said in a voice loud enough for her to hear over the music, ‘may I join you?’
     “Henry, you startled me,” smiled Katherine. “I wasn’t expecting to see you again after the way my uncle acted. Henry you shouldn’t be in here without my uncle being present, he’ll be madder than a rabbit chased down a hole if he finds you here.”
     “Ah, he didn’t bother me none, I’ve had meaner things said to me,” replied Henry. “I just seen him take his wagon out of town.”
     “He’ll only be gone for a few minutes, he went to visit Mr. Morrow, the poor man is very ill.”
     “That’s a lovely song you’re playing, is it a gospel song? I’ve never heard it before.”
     “It’s not a gospel song, it’s called the ‘Moonlight Sonata’, by Beethoven, I always had to practice it when I was learning how to play, and I guess it reminds me of home. Have you heard of Beethoven?”
     “I guess so, I mean we didn’t have a piano at home, the only piano music I ever heard was at church, or coming from the saloon in town. Is it hard to play?”
     “No it’s not hard at all, once you learn which keys to press, here sit by me, and I’ll show you.”
     Henry tentatively sat down beside Katherine on the small piano bench which was barely long enough for the both of them to sit side by side, his hip touching hers and his nose filling with the aroma of her perfume.
     “Place your fingers like this,” said Katherine, placing Henry’s fingers on the keyboard. “You have nice strong hands Henry.”
     Henry felt embarrassed about Katherine’s comment and said, “Your hands are nice too.”
     “Now just press the keys like I showed you.”
     Henry pressed the keys in the sequence as best he could remember, fumbling from the white keys to the black keys as he played.
     “Ha, ha,” laughed Katherine. “That was terrible, let me show you, place your hands on top of mine and we’ll play together.”
     Henry felt the smooth softness of Katherine’s hands, the hands of a young woman who never had to toil the days away doing manual labor, under his own and smiled as she effortlessly played, Henry’s collar itched his neck and the room seemed to become hotter as he sat beside her, making it harder for him to breathe.
     “Ah, I had best be going now,” remarked Henry, backing away from the piano.
     “It was awfully nice of you to show me how to play the piano.”
     “Do you have to go so soon? We were just starting to have fun.”
     “Well, ah, your uncle will be back soon and I don’t want to cause any trouble, Miss Katherine.”
     “Well, all right then, and please do call me Kay, that’s what my friends call me.”
     “Yes, yes, well bye now, Kay,” said Henry skittering towards the door.
     Henry bent over and grabbed his knees for support and took a deep breathe, exhaling a sigh of relief. The old Inuit woman smiled and laughed.
                                                               #
     “Whiskey,” said a dejected Henry to the barman, thinking that he had made an ignorant fool of himself with Katherine.
   “What’s the matter with you sonny, why so worry-mouthed? It ain’t snowing yet, now there’s something to be a worrying about when it comes.”
     “Ahhh, give me the whiskey and leave the bottle.”
     “Must be a woman, only a woman can put a look like that on a man’s face.”
     “What makes you so sure?”
     “I got three ex-wives, I outta know something, let me give you a bit of advise, yearning for a woman can be a great illness, but lucky it can be cured with a one dollar cigar and a bottle of whiskey,” laughed the barman.
                                                            #
To be continued........

2011-04-28T13:58:00.001-05:00

                             Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                        CHAPTER TWELVE
                                   Chapter twelve-part three

     “Miss Katherine?” Asked Henry.
     “Yes?”
     “My name’s Henry, we met briefly at your uncle’s service the other day.”
     “We did? I don’t recognize you.”
     “I said you had a lovely singing voice, I must have looked like a wild mountain man or something, with my beard and all.”
     “Was that you? My, you certainly do look more civilized.”
     “Thank you, can I offer you some coffee? My table’s just over there.”
     “I’m afraid my uncle wouldn’t approve of my having coffee with a stranger.”
     “My name’s Henry and you’re Katherine, we’re not strangers at all, I’m sure your uncle won’t mind, it will be only for a minute or two, until your uncle comes down, I would be very pleased if you’d join me.”
     “Well I don’t know, he can be very strict.”
     “What’s the harm in having a cup of coffee? And I promise I’ll be a proper gentleman, it’s just over there, and your uncle can join us.”
     “I shouldn’t---”
     “Your uncle may be a while, you wouldn’t want to stand here all morning would you?”
     “Very well, coffee does sound nice, but just until my uncle comes down.”
     “Of course, of course. Waiter, bring the young lady some coffee. Would you like some biscuits and jam?” Henry asked Katherine. “Bring us some of your freshest biscuits and lots of jam,” said Henry not waiting for Katherine’s reply.
     “Thank you Henry.”
     “I really did like your singing, and your piano playing.”
     “Thank you, I’m afraid the piano is in need of tuning and my singing is not much to be proud of, I only do it because uncle insists that I sing so everyone else will.”
     “That’s not true, you have a lovely voice, far better than mine, I can hardly carry a tune of a song, my mother would always tell me my singing sounded like an old cow stuck in a fence.”
      “Oh Henry I’m sure that’s not true at all,” laughed Katherine. “You just need a little practice I’m sure.”
      “Maybe, but it sure hurts my ears. I was pleasantly surprised when I saw you at the church the other day, are you from around here?”
     “Why were you surprised Henry? Is it because I’m not working in a saloon or a washer woman?” Smiled Katherine.
     “Just surprised is all,” stuttered Henry. “Pleasantly surprised.”
     “Why Henry I do believe you’re blushing. I’m not naive, I know what those women do. I’ve talked to a number of them when they have visited with my uncle after services, and they are just as nice as you or me. I can’t say I approve of what they do but I understand, and some of them just do it because they have fallen on hard times.”
     “I agree with you, some of them can be very nice,” smiled Henry. “Are you from Whitehorse?”
     “Henry I wouldn’t let my uncle hear you saying that, he disapproves of them wholeheartedly, that’s one of his missions here, to get them back on the path of righteousness,” replied Katherine. “I’m from San Francisco, I’ve only been here a short time, I came here to visit my uncle and to help him with his ministry, but I have to go back before winter. My father was very upset with me for wanting to come, he says that this was no place for a young lady, but I think it’s very exciting, all the different people from all over and the stories I’ve heard about their adventures. What about you Henry, where are you from?”
     “I’ve just come from Dawson and have only been in Whitehorse for about a week.”
     “Dawson, that’s where everyone’s searching for gold isn’t it? Did you find any? It must have been exciting.”
     “I didn’t think it was very exciting, it was hardest work I’ve ever done, working in the snow, ice and mud. Me and my friends did find some gold, but it brought a lot a trouble with it.”
     “Your friends did they come to Whitehorse with you?”
     “No, they decided to stay in Dawson and search for more gold,” lied Henry.
     “Well, it sounds very exciting to me, I’ve never been anywhere except San Francisco and of course here, you must tell me about your adventures.”
     “If you’d like me to I can, maybe we can---”
     “Katherine, what are you doing?” Interrupted her uncle. “You know I don’t approve of you talking to strangers.”
     “But uncle.”
     “I’m no stranger sir, Katherine and I met after one of your sermons,” said Henry as he stood up to greet the preacher.
     “I’ve never seen you before, it’s improper for a young lady to be alone with a strange man without a chaperon.”
     “Nothing improper has happened here, Miss Katherine and I were just chatting over coffee. Miss Katherine was kind enough to join me for some coffee while she waited for you, if there’s any blame, then it should be mine, but I can assure you that we were just having a quiet cup of coffee.”
     “Katherine knows my feelings about her talking with strangers, I’ve told her many times about what type of men are in these parts, she’s in my charge and I’ll determine what’s best for her while she’s here.”
     “Seems to me that you’re the one with wicked thoughts, accusing people you don’t know of being improper, Miss Katherine is old enough to make up her own mind, if she allows me to see her again, I will.”
     “You’re an impertinent young man. Stay away from Katherine. Come along Katherine, we have things to attend to before tonight’s sermon.”
     “Good-bye Henry, it was nice meeting you, and I would like to see you again.”
     “Katherine come along!”
     “Waiter, waiter.”
     “Yes sir.”
     “Bring me a bottle of whiskey and a steak, rare.”
     “It’s still morning sir.”
     “That man stirs the vinegar in me.”
     “I think he does that to everyone sir, seems odd to me for a preacher to act that way. If it will make you feel any better, you’re the first young man I’ve seen Miss Katherine accept an invitation from.”
                                                                      #
To be continued..........

2011-04-12T12:22:00.002-05:00

                          Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                        CHAPTER TWELVE
                                     Chapter twelve-part two

     Henry didn’t recognize the image gazing back at him from the mirror, only the tired blue eyes seemed familiar, he hadn’t realized that his beard had grown into a wild black bush that hid his face, growing from his ears down to his chest or that his hair was an uneven tangled garden of long black strands draping onto his shoulders. ‘What a fool I was’ he thought, ‘to say hello to Katherine the way I look’.
     Henry banged impatiently on the small bell at the hotel’s front desk and waited for the manager to appear asking, “Is there a barber in this town?”
     “Why yes sir, three if I’m not mistaken,” replied the puzzled manager.
     “Good, have someone go and fetch one of them and send em up to my room, I have a mind to make some changes, I’ll see him in my room as soon as I get back from the bathhouse.”
                                                                      #
     “You sent for me sir?” Asked the barber.
     “You’re dang right I did, I want you to shave all of this scratchy mangled beard off and cut my hair so it’s like what an eastern fellow would have, can you do that?” Replied Henry.
     “Yes sir, that will be no problem at all,” said the barber as he laid out his tools of the bureau. “Going to Dawson, sir?”
     “Why do you ask?”
     “It’s just that most men with a fine beard like yours would prefer to keep it, on account of the cold weather.”
     “Nagg, I’ve just come from Dawson and I need to be rid of it for reasons of my own.”
     “Ahh I see, did you have any luck in Dawson?”
     Henry shook his head no and said, “Not enough for what I lost.”
     “Then it must be a young lady that you want to impress.”
     “You sure are nosy.”
     “An occupational trait, I’m afraid.”
     “Well if you must know, it is about a young lady, I figure I’d look more respectable not looking like a wild mountain man.”
     “That’s usually the case sir. Someone in Whitehorse?”
     “You really are nosy aren’t you? Yes, it’s someone in Whitehorse, I haven’t quite met her yet, but I’m going to.”
     “I hope you’re not going to waste your time with one of those saloon tramps.”
     “Saloon ladies don’t care what a man looks like, if his money is golden, I was hoping to meet the preacher’s niece.”
     “Miss Katherine sir, Preacher Mordecai’s niece? It will take more than a shave to get past her uncle sir, she’s a fine respectable young lady. He protects her as if she was his own daughter, and I guess in some ways she is.”
     “Well I mean to meet her, uncle or no uncle, I ain’t no saloon chair Charlie.”
     “No one was suggesting that you were sir, however, I would suggest a new wardrobe, if you would like to make an impression on her and her uncle. He’s a pious man, but a well dressed young man, with civilized manners, would perhaps make a meeting easier.”
     “That’s exactly what I was thinking, first impression being what they are, do you know of a good tailor?”
     “Levi Klein is the best tailor in town, he has a shop just down the street from my own, I can tell him of your needs if you’d like.”
     “Yes, do that and tell him I’ll be there tomorrow, bright and early.”
     “There you are sir, with that tangled scruff removed, you should make a fine impression on Miss Katherine.”
                                                                      #
     “More coffee sir?” Asked the waiter.
     “Yes that would be fine,” said Henry.
     “Will you be ordering breakfast soon, sir?”
     “I’m hoping to meet a friend here, it shouldn’t be much longer.”
     “I’ll be back later after your friend has arrived.”
     Henry had been waiting in the dining room of the Yukon Star hotel for 30 minutes hoping that he could speak to Katherine, he had asked the tailor if he knew where Katherine was staying and he had informed Henry that Katherine and her uncle were staying there. He hoped that she would be down soon and that he hadn’t missed her, he was becoming tired of delaying the annoying waiter who would constantly come to his table asking if he was ready to order breakfast, or in his too polite manner, if he wanted more coffee. Henry tried to pass the time by watching the hotel’s guest come and go about their early morning routines of eating breakfast, reading the paper, or sitting at their tables chatting with friends, but it didn’t keep him from squirming in his chair and rearranging the silverware on this table. Henry had carefully chosen his table, from it he could see the staircase leading down from the upper rooms and could easily see when Katherine came down. It was only a matter of waiting he kept telling himself, while being constantly interrupted by the waiter.
                                                                          #
To be continued............

2011-02-23T09:50:00.001-06:00

                           Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                        CHAPTER TWELVE
                                    Chapter twelve-part one

     An old Inuit woman cloaked in a ragged moose skin blanket, sat cross legged beside the door of the small warehouse that had been converted into the ‘Church of the Good Shepard’, pulling a braided rope which draped down from clapper of the church bell and smiled a toothless smile at Henry when he went into the building. The inside was whitewashed from the floor to the ceiling, its ceiling was unadorned pine roof planks and the pine floor was covered with the dry trampled mud from the avenues of the town. The tiny windows were covered by muslin curtains that held back the sunlight which peeked between the surrounding buildings. A center aisle broke through between the rows of benches and chairs that filled the church, at the north wall, behind the raised altar, was piled wooden crates of dry goods and mining supplies, which belonged to Grant’s General store across the street. A hand carved wooden statue of Jesus on the cross stood in the corner, its eyes staring in sorrow at the vacant seats. The preacher stood behind his podium dutifully carrying out his mission of being the word of God to the wanderers who passed through Whitehorse on their way home or to the gold fields, or were simply seeking some solace and a place of hope. Old women sat in the front benches listening intently as he spoke, while other visitors sat leaning against the walls, sleeping, grateful to find a warm dry place to rest. An upright piano, which had been shipped from Seattle two years before, was placed to the right of the preacher’s podium, it sat silently waiting.
                                                                         #
      The tattered pages of the small hymn book felt strange to Henry as he sat in the back of the small church, he had not entered a church or listened to a sermon since his father was buried and couldn’t understand why so much pain and death had been occurring around him, he felt the urge to ask for forgiveness for what he had been forced to do on the gold trail and to say a prayer for Nate, to put a final page on this part of his life before he left and began a new one far away from the gold trail. The sound of the preacher’s sermon sounded hollow and tired to Henry, as if someone was screaming into the wind and they knew that no one was interested in hearing what was being said, a sermon that the speaker had recited too many times and now it lacked the emotion of someone who thought the words could make a difference in this place, but they had to try. ---‘and what does it profit a man to reap the riches, the gold of this land, for in Ephesians the Lord’s own words are written, that it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter heaven’---
      “To close this joyous meeting today I’d like to have my niece play ‘Rock of Ages’ for us,” said the preacher, motioning towards his niece who was seated in the front row. “Please stand and turn to page forty-six in your hymnal and help us sing our praises to the Lord.”
                                                                       #
      Henry stood along with the few others that had remained for the end of the sermon, flipping through the hymnal to find the correct page, as he glanced up toward the stage he felt a numbing presence seize him and a quiet uneasiness caused by the scene of the preacher’s niece ascending to sit at the piano, and felt as if everyone was staring at him, especially the preacher who was standing behind his pulpit, watching his every move, waiting for him to react and then they would chastise him. An angel he thought, taking in the image of the young women, her golden blonde hair flowing down on to her shoulders beyond the white lace collar on her pale blue dress. The unsure feeling that he felt caused him to mumble through the hymn, his eyes darting back down onto the hymn book whenever she would look over her shoulder towards the audience, her bright smile lighting up her face. The music seemed to brighten the air with perfect tones and harmony as he watched her delicate hands dance across the black and white keys.
                                                                        #
     “Thank you my friends for coming today,” the preacher’s voice rang out, breaking through Henry’s fascination. “Don’t forget to leave a small donation for the widows and orphans when you leave, God bless you for attending.”
     Henry waited nervously at the end of his bench for the preacher and the young lady to come by, to get a closer look at what he thought was surely a vision. The preacher shook Henry’s hand and Henry took a deep breath and said to the young woman, “Your voice played very well and your piano is lovely. I mean, you have a lovely voice and you played the piano very well,” stuttered Henry. “My name’s Henry.”
     “Why thank you Henry,” the young woman said with an embarrassed giggle.
     “Come along Katherine,” barked the preacher, grabbing her by the arm. “Don’t waste your pleasantries on these miners, they’re a foul group, why just look at him. And you,” he said pointing a finger at Henry. “I would kindly ask that you keep your distance from my niece, she has no wish to be associated with your kind. Come along Katherine.”
     “Yes Uncle,” Katherine dutifully replied.
     ‘What does he mean my kind?’, ‘Look at him?’ Henry thought to himself, watching the two of them leave.
                                                                      #

2011-02-21T09:18:00.003-06:00

                           Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                        CHAPTER ELEVEN
                                      Chapter eleven-part three

     “I want your best room,” said Henry to the hotel manger behind the counter of the Klondike King hotel.
     “That would be the Bridal Suite, sir,” the manager replied in a manner of fact tone.
     “No, no, give me a fancy room with a real bed, clean blankets without any critters and three pillows.”
     “That would be the Marquis Suite sir, it’s the finest Suite in Whitehorse,” the manager said reluctantly after appraising Henry’s appearance.
     “That will be fine,” Henry said slapping a twenty dollar gold piece down onto the counter, to the delight of the manager.
     “Please follow me,” said the manager, leading Henry up the stairs. “Here we are sir, the Marquis Suite, I hope it will be to your liking.”
     Henry pressed down on the mattress and remarked, “There are only two pillows here, I’d like another one.”
     “Yes sir, I’ll have it brought up immediately, will there be anything else?”
     “You got any of that fancy French bubbly liquor?”
     “You mean Champagne sir?”
     “That’s it, get me a bottle of your best Champagne, and two steaks, no three steaks, you have any real potatoes? Bring me a plate of those, and a dozen fried eggs, and ice cream, you got ice cream?” Said Henry. “And cake, chocolate cake, you have any chocolate cake?”
     “Yes sir!” Replied the manager. “I’ll have everything brought up immediately, I’ll see to it myself.”
                                                                          #
     “Who’s this?” Henry asked, looking at the tintype photograph that stood on the mantle.
     “That’s my brother, Jacob,” said Henry’s father.
     “Oh. Where’s Uncle Jacob now?”
     “He passed away about a year after your ma and me got married, it was a bad time then, they said it was typhoid fever, and it took a lot of folks when it came to town.”
     “Were you sad when Uncle Jacob died?”
     “Now that’s a darn fool question, of course I was, there ain’t nothing wrong about being sad and hurt when somebody dies, it’s only natural, but after awhile it don’t hurt as much and you start to thinking that maybe it was part of God’s plan for all of us, and that they’re in a better place now.”
     “Jack don’t, I’m hurt bad, help me,” pleaded Henry, looking down at the blood seeping from his chest, his red stained hands clutching at his shirt and the half buried body of Nate laying on the ground beside him in the snow. “NO DON’T,” Henry screamed as the sound of the gun’s hammer echoed in the darkness and the swirling blood filled river carried his body downstream, his eyes never leaving the image of the gold nuggets sifting through the fingers of Jack and Garrett standing on the river bank laughing.
     “NO……….”
                                                                         #
     Henry lurched upright in his bed and wiped the sweat from his face, the echoing toll of church bells pealing in his ears. The early morning light filtering through his window blinding him and the hammer beats inside his head pounded out a chorus of dull vibrating notes behind his eyes as he tried to get his eyes to focus. Henry stumbled across the room towards the window, his foot giving the champagne bottle notice that he was awake, the bottle rattled across the wooden floor, spinning and thumping its way along until it rested against the baseboard. The streets below were filled with unfocused black and gray figures wrapped in the building’s morning shadows, he wished that everyone would stop their raucous endeavors, just for a couple of hours, and flopped back into the bed, burying his head beneath the pillows.
                                                                    #
                                                       To be continued........

2011-02-17T11:31:00.002-06:00

                           Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                          CHAPTER ELEVEN
                                      Chapter eleven-part two

     The cabin steward turned the key in the lock, letting Henry into his cabin and said, “Can I get you anything?”
     “Whiskey,” responded Henry.
     “Can I get you something to eat?”
     “Nagg, what for?” Henry said, flopping down on the cot.
     “Very well sir.”
                                                                      #
     The sounds of large hammers clashing against metal and the smell of burning wood mixed with the caustic odor of chemicals that Henry had never smelled before drifted in from the back room, filling the small front office as Henry waited for the assay agent to look up from his paperwork.
     “What can I do for you sonny?” Asked the clerk.
     “I was told that I could get my gold processed here.”
     “That’s right, you come from Dawson did you?” The clerk replied staring at Henry from under his green visor.
     “Yes, here’s my claim ticket and receipt,” said Henry, handing his papers to him.
     “Huh, huh,” mumbled the clerk. “Looks like you could be a rich man now, iff’n there’s more gold there then rock, but we wouldn’t know until we separate it, will we?”
     “I guess so.”
     “Come back in a couple of days, I’ll have a report for you then.”
     “Can’t I just wait?”
     “No you can’t wait, I’m not having you clutter up my office with your presence.”
     “But maybe I should stay and make sure everything goes all right, I mean---if you have any questions.”
     “You afraid someone here is going to stick a couple of wet fingers into your gold, maybe take a pocketful from you. Look sonny, you see that sign on the wall over there, it says this is a Canadian Government certified assay office, we get paid a set percentage of the gold we process, everyone gets treated just the same. What do you suppose would happen if rumors where to start that we were stealing gold? Why we wouldn’t last more than an hour in this town, every prospector would slit our throats and hang what’s left from the nearest tree if they thought we was cheating them, naggh it’s a lot healthier just to do an honest job for everyone. Here, based on the amount of gold ore you brought in, I’m authorized to give you 100 hundred dollars as an advance, take it and this deposit receipt then come back in a couple of days.”
     “I guess that’s true,” said Henry handing his strongbox key to the clerk. “I’ll be back.”
     “I have no doubt you will,” replied the clerk returning to his paperwork.
                                                                 #
     Henry stood on the porch of the assay office gazing into the town of Whitehorse feeling a new sense of optimism now that he had accomplished his dreams of finding gold, he figured he would soon be a rich man and respect from everyone he met would soon be his. He regretted that his friends, and those that he thought had been his friends, were not along side him to enjoy the culmination of what they had worked so long and hard for, what they had to endure, he thought especially of his friend Nate, and silently about his own mother and father, with the riches he now would have he could have made their lives more joyous, easier and less common place.
     The town of Whitehorse streamed with the activity of men, women, horses and carriages flowing in every direction over the muddy streets. Every building along the main street was freshly painted and hawkers stood on the boardwalks calling out to every passerby to come in and buy the finest meals, rest in the best rooms, or to see the prettiest showgirls in town, weaved with the sound of hammers ringing out against nails in the new buildings being built. Herds of cattle and hogs were being lead down the street to the slaughter houses, to be processed into dried meat for the miners going to Dawson. Down feathers floated like leaves behind wagons that were stacked with wooden cages five high to a row, the chickens and geese packed within lending their complaints to the streets as the wagons flowed along. The general stores advertised everything from silver snuff boxes, axes, shovels, and the latest in eastern fashion, to fresh eggs from Seattle, and boxes of chocolates from California, their wares soon to be drained dry and would have to be continually re-supplied by the steamships chugging up the river, the wise merchant always keeping his eye on his neighbor’s store but never letting his prices get too high for the men desperately scrambling to reach the gold fields. ‘An easier way to become rich’ Henry thought, ‘a merchant didn’t have to endure the trail, or the mud, rain and snow, or watch his hands begin to bleed while clawing through the frozen ground, just total up the bills and listen to the coins as they dropped into the till’, and he was sure it was safer too.
     The waterfront was filled with steamships loading and unloading passengers and supplies, hopeful men with their bundles on their backs hurrying to board the waiting ships that would take them north to Dawson, and ships that would soon be heading downriver to Skagway were filled with laughing men tailored in new suits, purchased by their exploits of gold hunting in the Yukon and with downhearted souls who experienced the toil of prospecting only to return with little more than they had started with, a ticket in steerage was now all they could afford after selling their tools to the new arrivals and they would have to fashion a way back home as best they could.
                                                                      #
                                                        To be continued........

2011-02-15T15:47:00.003-06:00

                                Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                           CHAPTER ELEVEN
                                          Chapter eleven-part one

     Henry swung the shovel one final time driving the wooden cross deeper into the frozen ground and said, “I buried you deep Nate, I reckon no animals will get you down there, and I put a bag of gold in with you. I don’t think you’ll need it for anything now, but I thought you should have it. You were right about Garrett, I wish I could have stopped him. Don’t rightly know what else to say, ‘cept maybe, I’m sorry you didn’t get to marry that pretty girl you were talking about. Those two ain’t going to hurt anyone else, I’m going to leave them in the tent for the wolves, it’s what they deserve. Good-bye.”
     More and more tired men with half-loaded sleighs dragging behind them joined Henry on the trail, men who had hurried out into the Yukon wilderness months before now walked in silence along the trail, there was no laughing, singing, or excited yells about the gold riches they would find, only the groans of weary broken men pulling their sleighs of bankrupt dreams, struggling the last miles along the muddy trail. Henry paid little notice to them, they seemed like mirages to him as he slowly moved one foot in front of the other. Men along the trail would stop and ask him ‘did you find any gold’ and he would always answer ‘not enough for my trouble’ or ‘ain’t no gold here, I’m heading home’ and never stopped to talk or explain to anyone. He couldn’t find a reason why Jack and Garrett had acted as they did, Henry thought that there was enough gold for everyone.
     Six steamships lined the shore of Dawson as Henry pulled his sleigh into town, steam whistles blasted into the frigid air, with puffs of black smoke rising into the overcast sky from their smoke stacks. Men and women scurried back and forth looking like black willow branches dancing in a strong wind. Alone and burdened, Henry pushed forward towards the waiting steam ships.
     “Where you headed boy? Going home? Take the Yukon Queen, it’s boarding for Whitehorse,” the short dirty man said, quickly stuffing a printed handbill into Henry’s hand.
     “Where is it?” Henry yelled after the man who had moved on to hand out more flyers.
     “Over there, the one with the red smoke stack, you can’t miss it,” the man screamed back before disappearing into the crowd.
     Henry joined the line of tired men and their supplies in front of a small wooden shack that stood near the gangway leading up to the Yukon Queen, two armed men stood watching in front of the shack, their eyes scanning the crowd in front of them, their rifles loaded and ready for use at any sign of trouble. The sign above the entrance read ‘Yukon Queen, Passenger and Gold Transportation, Wells Fargo Protected’, in bright red letters. Every few minutes a voice would echo ‘Next’ from inside the small shack and the line would move forward as another man disappeared into the darken structure. Patiently Henry and the men stood in line as it slowly led them towards the shack, an hour of shuffling forward ticked by and then the call ‘Next’ came from the darkness and it was Henry’s turn to step inside.
     A burly red-haired man sat behind a desk made from two wooden crates, its top was made from simple split lumber, it was covered with stacks of papers and receipts, and a small metal balance scale was positioned near the front edge, two Wells Fargo guards stood behind him and a large platform scale stood next to the wall.
     “Name,” said the red-haired man.
     “Huh?” Muttered a confused Henry.
     “Name,” the man said a little louder. “You deaf or something? You want to take the Yukon Queen don’t you?”
     “Ahh, yes I think so, where’s it headed?”
     “Look kid I don’t have all day, it’s headed to Whitehorse.”
     “Oh, when?”
     “As soon as it’s loaded,” replied the man. “Name!” He asked again in a sterner voice.
     “Henry McAlister,” replied Henry watching the man write his name onto a list.
    “Just you?”
   “Yes.”
   “Gold?”
     “Ahh—”
     “Look kid, it’s very simple, you want your gold shipped down to Whitehorse, that’s what we do, so put your gold on the scale over there so we can weigh it. It’s very simple, then we’ll put in a strong box, take it aboard the ship and guard it for you all the way to Whitehorse, got that? And we’ll take it to the assay agent’s house if you want. Got that?” Said the man clearly annoyed at having to explain everything to Henry.
Henry followed the orders of the man and placed his sacks of gold on the scale and watched as the two Wells Fargo guards weighted his gold and placed it in an iron strongbox. The red-haired man dutifully recording the weight as it was called out on three different receipts then placed one of the receipts inside the box.
     “Claim number?” Asked the man.
     “Huh?” Said Henry. “I mean I lost it when I fell crossing the river.”
     The red-haired man looked at Henry in disbelief and smiled saying, “That’ll be an extra charge for issuing a new claim number. As I figure it the charge for transporting and guarding the gold AND a new claim number comes to 60 dollars. Is that agreeable with you?” He asked.
    Henry stood quietly and nodded in agreement to the charges.
     “Cabin or tramp?” He asked.
     “Cabin,” replied Henry.
     “Total is 75 dollars, there will be an extra charge for transferring the gold to an assay house at Whitehorse. Do you want to arrange for that now? It will be 80 dollars, total.”
     “Yes,” replied Henry, confused by all the requirements for his gold. “But I don’t have more than a couple of dollars,” noted Henry to the man.
     “That’s what everybody says, so we’ll do as is customary and take some of your gold dust as payment. Hand me over one of those sacks,” he said to the guard behind him.
     Henry watched as the clerk placed gold coins on the small balance scale in front of him and called out the amount, ‘twenty, forty, sixty, eighty.’
     “Uh, could you add another 10 dollars for me?” Asked Henry. “Make that 20 dollars,” an embarrassed Henry added.
     “Another 20,” replied the disgruntled clerk, placing another gold coin on the scale’s pan, and with a small metal spoon he carefully measured out Henry’s gold dust and placed it in the opposite pan until the scales where balanced, and added another half spoonful of gold dust.
     Henry said nothing about the overbalanced scales, he just wanted to get away, as far away from Dawson and the horrifying events of the past two days as he could, to try and forget what had happened to his friends, and what he was forced to do.
     “Lock it up boys,” said the clerk as he handed Henry’s bag of gold dust to them. “Here’s your receipt, your key and your cabin number. NEXT,” he then yelled out.
     Henry left his sleigh and remaining supplies at the bottom of the ship’s gangway, taking only what he thought he needed, and watched as it was scavenged by frantic men waiting nearby. Two guards silently lead Henry onto the ship and down into the cargo hold, to a room fitted with iron bars on all the walls, floor and ceiling, while another two armed guards stood outside watching. The two guards placed Henry’s strongbox along with the others, some a lot larger than Henry’s. ‘A king’s treasure room’ he thought staring through the iron bars of the door.
     “Let’s see your ticket,” demanded the taller guard. “You’re in cabin 15, that’s on the main deck, you’ll find the cabin steward helping the other passengers if you need him, he wears a blue uniform with gold colored buttons, good day kid.”
                                                             #
                                                To be continued........

2011-02-13T11:48:00.001-06:00

                           Journey Days of Henry McAlister
                                                 CHAPTER TEN
                                              Chapter ten-part four

     “Auuug, damn,” Henry muttered quietly, annoyed at being awaken from his sleep by the pressure in his full bladder.
     The insides of Henrys’ tent glowed softly from the fading campfire light just outside the tent’s closed flaps, Nate lay on the ground next to Henry, wrapped in his blankets, and oblivious to his own loud snoring. Henry crawled out of the tent and let his eyes become accustomed to the quarter moon darkness, the frigid night air bracing against his skin, ‘a good thing that they were almost to Dawson’ he thought. He watched as the reflection of the moon and stars rippled and splintered apart as he relieved himself in the water at the river’s edge. The sudden sound of snapping twigs behind him caused him to look back towards the two tents where he saw Jack and Garrett emerging from their tent into the circled glow of the campfire.
     “You go over to the other side and get ready,” said Jack in a voice that was barely audible to Henry.
Henry watched fixated and confused by their actions, ‘maybe they had heard a wild animal sniffing around the camp’ he thought, then he saw the revolvers they were both holding and stared in stunned silence as the two men fired into Henry’s tent, red sparks and puffs of white smoke streaking from the barrels. Henry stood frozen for a moment, disbelieving what he had just seen, then flattened himself on the ground and peered over the small dirt rise which formed the river’s bank.
     “That’s got them for sure,” said Jack. “You go inside and check.”
     “There’s only one of them in there,” said Garrett. “Henry’s not in there.”
     “What do you mean? Check and see if he took off with the gold.”
     “He ain’t in there I tell you.”
     “He has to be around here someplace, you go over there, I’ll look over here,” said Jack. “And don’t wait for nothin’, shoot him when you find him.”
     Henry watched from the river’s edge as the two men faded away from the campsite into the darkness, his heart racing and his ears alert for every sound, the snapping of a branch or the rustling of the fall leaves causing him to shut his eyes tight as he waited for the men to shout out that they had discovered him. His mind sorted through a thousand questions and a thousand actions he could take, his breathe would only come in hollow gasps, his heart sounding like a thousand exploding drums in his ears. Henry resolved himself to make his way into his tent, to retrieve his rifle and revolver, the only protection he could think of, and then with a little luck he could escape into the darkness, and make his way to Dawson. Henry waited until the clouds passed over the moon, darkening the sky, then he slowly crawled towards the tents, snaking as flat as he could on the ground, hiding behind every log, every tuft of standing grass, every rock that he could find until he was at the edge of the campfire’s glow, the amber flickering glow that would mean his death if the others were watching. The faint glow from the campfire seemed to be as bright as an August noon to Henry as he crawled on his hands and knees towards his tent, at every step he took he expected a bullet to burst its way into his body, the tent flaps roared defiantly in his ears as he slithered between them, his body wouldn’t stop shaking as he crouched inside the confines on the small tent, ‘don’t move’ he thought to himself, ‘don’t even breathe, they will hear you’. Nate’s snoring no longer filled the tent with nighttime sounds, his body laying on his blankets just as Henry had last seen him only minutes before, the bullet’s holes in Nate’s back weeping life’s red liquid that stained the blankets and dripped onto a small pouch of gold dust that had been punctured and then pooled on the ground. ‘Why, why, why’ Henry thought, tears filling his eyes as he grabbed his revolver and rifle and wondered how he would escape and make his way through the blackness to Dawson.
     “Did you see him?” Jack’s voice came from outside the tent, startling Henry.
     “Naggg, he must of run off.”
    “Go get the rifles, we’ll find him.”
     Henry peered out through the folded tent flap at the men standing near the campfire, waiting to be discovered, sweat rolling into his eyes, his revolver felt cold in his hand as he watched, the barrel reflecting the light. Henry steadied the gun with both hands as he pointed it at the men, ‘like hunting rabbits’ he told himself, but these were not rabbits, they were breathing men standing in front of him, the sound of the gunshot surprised Henry when he squeezed the trigger, and Jack fell face first into the fire and rolled onto his back as a surprised Garrett turned towards the tents and Henry fired again and watched Garrett fall to his knees and collapse onto the ground, moaning from the gunshot in his chest.
     “Why did you---?” Asked Henry standing over Garrett.
     “Henry don’t, I’m hurt bad, help me,” pleaded Garrett.
     “Why? Why?”
     Henry stared blankly down at the still body of Garrett, the sound of the empty gun’s hammer echoing in the darkness.
                                                                #
                                                    To be continued.......