Authors: Gwen Bristow
The table was on lower ground than the wagon, and Kendra could look down and watch Marny’s hands. She thought she had never seen such beautiful hands at work. They were quick, rhythmic, sure. The fingers all moved in harmony. Marny’s hands dealing cards were like music made visible.
She saw Hiram placing a bet. Ted was there too, but after a while he came up to the wagon to ask how she felt. “Ning and Pocket are cooking supper,” he told her. “They say the food won’t be as good as yours, but it’ll be eatable.”
“Tell them I sent my thanks,” said Kendra, “and I’m sorry to make trouble.”
“No trouble,” said Ted. “They’re glad to help out.” He pinched her ear. “The coffee should be ready by now. I’ll bring you some—where’s your cup?”
Kendra looked after him fondly as he went off. She wondered why Ted had been so reluctant—almost frightened—about getting married. Well, it didn’t matter now. He seemed to have forgotten his qualms, and she was not going to remind him. They had been married twenty-one days. It had been the happiest time of her life.
Kendra’s fall had given her a hard shaking, but it had done her no real damage, so in a few days she was up and ready to work. She had plenty of work to do, but here in the fresh mountain air she had almost endless energy, and her meals were easier than they had been on the journey. The men made her a permanent cooking place: a trench, over which they set up a frame made of two forked logs with a crossbar held in the forks. From the crossbar they hung a branch with a deep notch cut in the lower end, strong enough to hold her kettle. She kept a fire going in the trench, and when she made a stew the kettle hung over the fire; when she fried bacon her pan stood on two green sticks laid crosswise. To take care of the foodstuffs the men set up two other frames, higher and stronger than this one. Here they hung their cases of meat and dried beans, out of reach of prowling animals.
More men came into camp, alone or in groups, but there was plenty of room and plenty of gold. Some men worked as partners, helping each other and sharing their findings; others were loners, who stayed by themselves and spoke to nobody if they could help it.
A loner used a pan. He scooped up the sand and water and swirled the pan with sharp regular motions of his wrist, until the lightweight sand splashed out and the heavy grains of gold were left at the bottom of the pan. Or he searched the rocks by the waterside till he found a crack where he could split the rock with a pickax. In the crack he nearly always found gold. Sometimes the gold was like a silken lining, and he scraped it off the rock with his knife. Or sometimes he found a little pile of golden flakes, which he would rake out with his horn spoon and store in the bag or bottle that held his treasure.
Ning and Ted, Pocket and Hiram, had agreed to work as a team. Under Ning’s direction they built a contrivance he remembered from his mining days in Georgia: a log hollowed and open at one end, with wooden bars tacked at intervals across the bottom. When they had finished, Ning made them mount the thing on rockers. It looked like a cradle, built for a baby nine feet long.
Ning said some fellows did call it a cradle. But mostly it was called a rocker, because it really did rock the gold right out of the earth. He explained how the four of them would manage it. Two men would bring loads of dirt, and dump the dirt into the rocker. A third man would bring water and pour it over the dirt, while the fourth man would gently, carefully, rock the cradle and let the mud flow through. The principle, said Ning, was like that of the pan—the gold was heavy, and would sink, and catch on those bars they had nailed to the bottom. The dirt, being lighter, would flow with the water out of the open end.
There was only one drawback, Ning warned them the day they finished. This was that a rocker required them to work together, day after day. Sometimes men couldn’t stay at it because they quarreled. If they could keep the peace, four partners with a rocker could take out a sight more gold than four loners with picks and pans. But they had to get along.
They were waiting for supper. Kendra was stirring a kettle of beans and salt pork. Ted had gone to bring drinking water, while Ning and Pocket and Hiram, weary but proud, sat contemplating their new machine. As Ning spoke, Hiram laughed good-naturedly and Pocket said, “I think we’ll get along, boss.”
“I think we will,” Ning said gravely, “because I picked you out myself and I generally pick ’em pretty good.” He took off his hat, scratched his head, and put the hat back on.
“We’ve done fine so far,” Hiram remarked.
“Yes, we have,” said Ning. “You’ve behaved mighty well, boys.” As he spoke he gave a quick, meaningful glance toward Kendra.
Kendra felt her cheeks burning. Ning did not realize that she had heard what he said, or that out of the corner of her eye she had seen the look he gave her. She kept her head bent over the kettle, so they would think her color had been caused by the fire.
She heard Pocket say, “Well, boss, I’ve been called a skirt-ruffler and I guess I am. But I know when I’m not wanted.”
Hiram did not think it necessary to say anything. Kendra felt relieved to see Ted coming up with the pail of water. He set it down so the men could dip in their cups, and she called that supper was ready.
She ladled out the pork and beans, and while the men talked about the rocker she looked down at the space that had been cleared for the Calico Palace. Delbert and Marny had thought the job of clearing would take only a day or two. But the work was harder than they had expected, and the Blackbeards had insisted on using part of every day to pan gold, so though they had been here nine days they were only now ready to set up the tent. Marny, however, had wasted no time. Every afternoon she stood at her table, to be ready when the first gold diggers quit work. Kendra could see her now, her hair shining and her hands flirting among the cards.
They finished supper. Pocket said he would help Kendra wash up, while the others used the last daylight to drag their rocker up to the place where Ning had decided they would start work in the morning. Pocket was on his knees scrubbing the eating pans with grass, and Kendra stood pouring a last rinsing water into the kettle, when they heard short little footsteps padding close. They looked up to see Mrs. Posey, carrying a basket of chips she had gathered to start her fire tomorrow. Mrs. Posey stopped with a glare in her little blue eyes.
Pocket stood up courteously, but she paid him no attention. To Kendra she snapped, “Here comes That Woman.”
Kendra was tired. She felt short-tempered. Never very tactful, she said what she thought. “Marny’s not hurting you. Why don’t you mind your own business?”
“It
is
my business!” Mrs. Posey retorted. “She’s an insult to every respectable woman here.”
“Well, I don’t feel insulted,” Kendra said shortly, “and I think I’m respectable.”
Pocket’s mild voice added, “Marny’s a real sweet girl, Mrs. Posey. She’s not making any trouble.”
Apparently feeling that it was no use to talk to a man where Marny was concerned, Mrs. Posey continued to ignore him. She blazed at Kendra.
“She’s a disgrace to this camp. You ought to be ashamed, taking her part.”
“Howdy, everybody!” said a voice near by. Pausing beside them, Marny smiled amiably. “Good evening, Mrs. Posey.”
“Don’t you speak to me. Brazen baggage.”
Marny looked thoughtful. She said clearly, “Mrs. Posey, you’re pinguescent.”
Mrs. Posey started. “I’m nothing of the sort. Stop using such words and insulting a decent woman.”
Her eyes blinked in baffled rage. Kendra had no more idea than Mrs. Posey what Marny was talking about, but she thought Mrs. Posey’s anger was funny and she could not help showing what she thought. Mrs. Posey glared.
“And it wouldn’t surprise me a bit,” she sputtered, “to find that you’re no better than
she
is.”
She spoke the last words over her shoulder as she hurried away, full of wrath and righteousness. Kendra plucked at Marny’s sleeve.
“Marny, what did you say to her?”
“I said she was pinguescent,” Marny returned. “She is. ‘Pinguescent’ means ‘getting fat.’”
Kendra burst out laughing, but Pocket spoke in a voice of gentle rebuke.
“Miss Marny, you’ve got no more manners than a jaybird.” He shook his head. “And a jaybird,” Pocket continued gravely, “has got no manners at all.”
Marny’s reply was serene. “Pocket, I respect your judgment. But Mrs. Posey is a public nuisance.”
“Oh, she’s just stupid, Miss Marny.”
“She’s wicked,” Marny said with conviction. “And you, Pocket, are too innocent for your own good.”
Pocket did not bother to contradict her. He poured the rinsing water from the kettle and they all three started walking up the strip. The light had faded, and fireflies danced in the gloaming. Ted came down the strip to meet Kendra. They said good night, and Kendra walked with him toward their wagon.
As they walked, Kendra wondered about Mrs. Posey. She was so unlike Pocket’s two friends of the wagon train, Sue Gibson and Hester Larch. Mrs. Posey and Orville had come out from New York on the Mormon ship, though they were not Mormons. Orville had been a neighborhood storekeeper in New York, but he had not done very well. When Mrs. Posey learned that the Mormons were selling the extra space in their ship she had persuaded him to borrow money from his brother to take passage, hoping he would do better in a new land. She intended to see to it that he did. Cards were not part of her plan.
Sue and Hester were different. They often passed Marny’s table and paused to watch the play. Both their husbands took a hand sometimes, and Sue and Hester seemed not to mind. But Sue and Hester were frontier women who had fought their way across the plains. They had driven ox-teams and fired on marauding Indians; they did not need to be always bossing somebody because they did not need to prove how good they were. Kendra shrugged as she walked along.
D
URING THE NEXT TWO
days Kendra watched eagerly as Marny and her friends set up the Calico Palace. In their clearing they had left two young pine trees that stood about thirty feet apart. The Blackbeards had nipped the branches off the trees and cut the tops, leaving the two trunks standing for tent poles. Across these, for the ridge pole, they laid a wooden bar they had brought with them in sections, and over the frame thus made they draped the tent. Waving from another tree-trunk close by was a strip of cloth on which Marny had printed in big black letters, “Calico Palace.”
Marny would have preferred red paint, but she had no paint red or otherwise. She had done the lettering with charcoal, and she would have to renew it often. But as she said, giving the place a name gave it a personality.
The tent was ugly and drafty, and the walls sagged. But it was there. It dominated the camp of Shiny Gulch. It was the first thing a newcomer saw as he approached, and it was the most imposing structure this side of Sutter’s Fort.
The tent had no floor. The earth inside was lumpy and soft, but Marny said the men would soon trample it hard. She and Delbert set up tables made of packing boxes, and for seats they used wooden tubs that had once been packed with salt pork for sailors. At the end away from the door they placed the “bar,” which was merely Marny’s board-and-barrel table set up again. Behind the bar stood the casks holding their liquor, served by being drawn out through a bung-hole and poured into a tin cup which the drinker was supposed to bring for himself.
They announced ahead of time that their supply of liquor was small. They had only what they had brought with them, and a little more they had been able to buy from peddlers who sometimes drove wagonloads of goods to the mining camps. For this reason, they said, drinks would be limited to three per man.
Marny privately told Kendra they had set the limit to keep order.
“During these first few weeks,” she said, “I want us to get a lily-white reputation. No drunks, no brawls, just good clean fun. Later, when they can’t do without us, we can send down to the fort for all the liquor we need. That store of Smith and Brannan’s has it by the barrel. I saw it.”
On Wednesday, the seventeenth of May, their eleventh day at Shiny Gulch, Marny and Delbert opened the Calico Palace. Pocket and Ning and Hiram went there, and Pocket came back to report to Ted and Kendra. He said there was no reason why Kendra should not go there too if she wanted to see it. Everything was as orderly as Marny had promised. Sociable fellows were at her table playing twenty-one; loners sat in silence at another table where Delbert was dealing faro, with one Blackbeard as case keeper while the other acted as general guard of the establishment. There were also several other tables, rented by the hour to men who wanted to play their own games, betting against each other instead of the house. Lulu and Lolo were tending bar. Now and then some man made a hopeful remark to one of them, but a glare from Blackbeard usually persuaded him that this was not wise. If he was not so persuaded, Blackbeard escorted him out and told him to sit under a tree and think it over.
Ted and Pocket went with Kendra to the Calico Palace. She sat near the bar on a pork-tub turned upside down, while Ted bought a drink and Pocket discovered that Lulu and Lolo also sold, of all things, tea. For a drink they charged a dollar. For a cup of hot water—not too hot—with a few tea leaves in it, they charged fifty cents, but a man had to pay for two cups whether or not he drank them both, for a dollar was the smallest sum accepted at the bar. If he paid with gold dust instead of coin they sold him the drink or the tea for enough dust to balance a little weight they placed on the scale. If he had forgotten to bring his own cup, and had to use one supplied by the bar, he paid an extra charge.
Nearly every man in camp dropped in that evening, though not Orville Posey. Nathan Larch and Will Gibson came in, but Hester and Sue, not as bold as Kendra, paused at the entrance and stood looking. The Blackbeard guard reported their presence, and took Delbert’s place at the faro table while Delbert went to the door and asked the ladies to come in and have a cup of sherry as his guests. They did come in, giggling like young girls and enjoying it. At the same time Ted brought Kendra a cup of sherry, served by order of Delbert. The three sipped sherry beside the bar, and thus, despite Mrs. Posey, the stamp of respectability was put upon the Calico Palace.