Sign-Talker by JAMES ALEXANDER Thom Read Free Book Online Page A

gray yet from weather. Shehad not been gone long when he got the letter that his father was dead.
    “Eh, ni geah,”
he murmured.
“Ma mère forte et triste.”
    He picked up his rifle and walked down out of the graveyard. He had no idea whether he would ever be able to come back here. Her counsel to him was not apparent yet.
Riviere à Dubois
December 22, 1803
    Drouillard led the column of soldiers and packhorses up the east bank of the Mississippi in a lashing sleet storm to Captain Clark’s winter camp, here opposite the Missouri’s mouth. The camp was a cluster of half-finished log huts. On the bank of the Riviere à Dubois, the big keelboat sat propped on wedges, two smaller boats nearby.
    Captain Clark’s cabin was smoky inside, with tangy smells of new-hewn oak. The rafters were roofed over with canvas. The captain’s clothes were muddy and he looked very tired. He sent Corporal Warfington out with the first sergeant, Charles Floyd, to assign the arrivals to shelter and give them coffee, and said he would come and inspect them within an hour. He coughed often into a handkerchief. He invited Drouillard to have a dram, which the black servant poured for him. The servant especially seemed pleased to see him; the man hummed and smiled and draped Drouillard’s damp blanket on a chair near the fire. Captain Clark looked at some mail that Drouillard had handed him from inside his tunic. The letters were limp with dampness.
    Cahokia, December 17th 1803
    Dear Captain
,
Drewyer arrived here last evening from Tennessee with eight men. I do not know how they may uncover on experiment but I am a little disappointed in finding them not possessed of more of the requisite qualifications, there is not a hunter among them. I send you by Drewyer your cloaths portmanteau and a
letter which I received from St. Louis for you and which did not reach me until an hour after Floyd had set out. Drewyer and myself have made no positive bargain, I have offered him 25.$ pr. month as long as he may chuise to continue with us … I shall be obliged to go by St. Louis, but will be with you as soon as possible
.
    Adieu, and believe sincerely
Your friend & obt servt
.      
M. LEWIS                       
    Drouillard sat forward, rubbing his cold hands before the fire. The fireplace was so new its clay was still damp. His hands stung and prickled in the fire heat. Captain Clark brought a cup of whiskey to his table, sat down and said, “Welcome to Camp Wood, and thank you for a hard task done well. No troubles along the way, I take it?”
    “No, sir. Hard weather. A little trouble finding out where you and Cap’n Lewis went from Massac.”
    “You had time to get acquainted with the Tennessee soldiers. What d’ye make of them?”
    He had expected that. Captain Lewis had asked him the same question, and had gotten the same answer: “Sir, I only delivered them. I would not judge people for you.”
    “Let me put it this way: Would you want to have to count on ’em?”
    “Not to feed me, Cap’n. They’re no hunters. Some of ’em do talk amusing. They have many words for misery. And for
merde.”
    “Meaning, ah, shit?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    The captain half smiled and shook his head slowly. “Well, since you don’t care to speak bad of folks, tell me what’s good about ’em.”
    The black servant emitted a short, deep laugh from the other side of the room, where he was working grease into a pair of boots.
    “What, York?” the captain said, turning to him, fists on thighs.
    “Oh, Mast’ William, ain’t I heard
them
words in that Clark family all my days!”
    “Aye, y’ have. Get better answers thataway.” He turned back to Drouillard. “Any praise for those men? And let’s have a smoke on it.” He was filling a handsome brass pipe-tomahawk he had picked up from his table, and Drouillard guessed that the captain understood the old ritual about smoke and truth-telling. So they turned the pipe and