Into the Wilderness (14 page)

"Billy
Kirby," said Richard Todd, confirming Elizabeth's suspicion. She observed
him with some interest. He was built like an over full barrel, with a great
breadth of chest and hamlike shoulders below a thick neck. Under a tricorn hat,
odd twists of blond hair stuck out at all angles and blended into what must be
at least three days' growth of reluctant blond beard. Between the bristles his
skin was blotched red with cold, blemishes, scrapes. Thin lips bleached pale by
the cold revealed tobacco—stained teeth. Elizabeth was surprised to see how
young he was, perhaps eighteen or so.

Billy
rested one foot on an empty fowl coop and surveyed the crowd. About a hundred
yards farther on there was another stump, behind which a tremendously large tom
turkey had been tethered by a short lead; it scratched in the snow,
occasionally raising its spindly neck over the edge to observe the crowd with
one bright black and mistrustful eye.

"It's
a hard target, a skittery bird behind a stump," Richard Todd explained.
"Billy will take in a nice profit."

Elizabeth
answered without taking her eyes from the scene. "I see the Bonners are
here. I expect Hawkeye came by his nickname with some reason?"

The
doctor nodded. "He most certainly did. Even at his age he's a hard man to
best with a long rifle. But I doubt whether he's got a spare shilling to place
the necessary wager."

Elizabeth
glanced at Richard, but his large, round face was completely serious. How could
it be possible that Hawkeye and Nathaniel might not have a shilling between
them? But before she could think of a way to put this question, Billy Kirby
began calling out.

"Come
on, then, come on, the finest bird you'll see this winter, I will put odds on
it. A shilling a go, a shilling a go. A mere eighth of a Spanish dollar why he
would cost you ten times that, and he'll feed the family for the week—two
weeks, if your woman's the housekeeper she should be. Who'll be first?"

He
cast his eyes over the crowd and then smiled.

"Hawkeye!
Yes, the man himself a shot like no other!"

Before
Hawkeye could reply, Billy Kirby was at him again.

"But
then maybe not, maybe not, you're not the youngest anymore—" There was a
good—natured laugh at this, and Hawkeye turned to the crowd, his white hair
lifting in the breeze.

"Don't
doubt it," he called. "The boy tells the truth. Once I could of took
the horn button off his mangy old tricorn at a dead run, but time creeps up on
all of us. Though to be honest I am tempted—"

"Well,
of course you are, it's a fine bird an' all," interrupted Billy.

"—by
that button," finished Hawkeye.

Billy
Kirby flushed at the crowd's laughter, and his watery blue eyes fell on
Nathaniel. "Well, then, what about the son, then? What about you,
Nathaniel? Got your father's sharp eye, now don't you, know a good thing when
you see one. But then maybe you don't want to part with the price," he
said with a nasty grin.

"He's
got a bullet hole in his shootin' shoulder," called someone from the
crowd.

"Well,
this is bad news for a games man like myself." said Billy. "The two
best shots in the area and neither willing to take the chance. If you won't try
this bird, who will? You really going to let a little lead in your shoulder
keep you from this bird?" Billy said with a wink to the crowd.

"I'll
have a go," called Richard Todd, moving past Elizabeth. The crowd turned
to him, and Elizabeth's eye met Nathaniel's. He nodded at her, smiling grimly,
and then turned his attention to Richard, who was reaching inside his coat for
the required shilling. At length he produced a handful of coins, and with a
flourish he held one up so that it flashed in the sunlight.

The
crowd was moving forward, and Elizabeth found herself propelled closer to the
makeshift shooting stand. Richard checked the load and the flash pan and made
himself comfortable with the target, while the crowd gave him a good deal of
advice. Elizabeth turned to her neighbor, remembering him from the difficult
first encounter at the trading post.

"Mr.
LeBlanc," she said. "Will you have a try at the bird?"

"Sure,
Charlie will have a go, he contributes his shilling every Christmas, don't you,
Charlie?" said Hawkeye good—naturedly.

Elizabeth
was a little startled to find the Bonners so near, but she managed to greet
them without drawing attention to herself. She wondered if she should expect
Nathaniel to speak to her, and what he might have to say. Then, irritated with
herself she turned to watch Richard Todd adjust his sights.

"Well,
maybe this year I'll have a chance," said Charlie. "As Nathaniel's
got a sore shoulder. Although it's a damn skinny target to put my silver on,
rare as it is."

"Waall,"
drawled Hawkeye, grinning. "A hundred yards is a short distance for a long
rifle, after all. We may still give you a run for your shillin'. That turkey
would be welcome with all the folks we got to feed these days."

"Is
it true, then? Is Chingachgook come to stay?"

Nathaniel,
who had kept his attention focused on Richard, now glanced up. "It's true
enough," he answered for his father. "Falling—Day's two youngest
along with him."

The
crowd moved in even closer, bringing Elizabeth near enough to Nathaniel to
touch him. She wondered if people were watching her, and if they were, what
they might see on her face.

"Heads
up! Heads up! Mr. Turkey, pay heed!" called Billy Kirby as Richard set his
sights. And he let out a tremendous whoop just as the powder flashed in the
pan, whether to upset the shooter's concentration or make the turkey jump was
unclear.

The
cloud of smoke rose away from the shooting stand. There was a sudden quiet and
then another whoop when the turkey raised his head over the stump and glared.

"What
a bird!" shouted Billy. "What a bird! Sorry, Doc, he's too fast for
you. Unless you want another shot?"

But
Richard Todd had opened the floodgates, and now other men crowded up to have
their go, placing valuable coin in Billy Kirby's grubby hand one by one, and
one by one adding to his delight in the whole undertaking.

Elizabeth
found herself surrounded now by Hawkeye, Nathaniel, Richard Todd, and Charlie
LeBlanc, who seemed determined to keep her entertained throughout the process.

"Couldn't
hit Half Moon if he fell out the boat," Hawkeye said of the skinny
red—haired Cameron, who was just about as long as his musket. He rubbed one
large, flat hand over the white stubble on his face and smiled.

"Now,
old Jack MacGregor," said Hawkeye as a man about his own age came up to
the shooting stand. "Jack once was a fine man with a rifle, but he's past
his prime."

Nathaniel
snorted. "He's two years younger than you at least."

"But
he's got old eyes," Hawkeye replied, not put out at all. "My eyes are
still good, better than most."

"Perhaps
you'll tell me how you came to be called Hawkeye," Elizabeth suggested.
"It must be an interesting story."

"Too
bold a tale for young women of good family," Hawkeye agreed. "But
I'll tell you anyway, lass, if you catch me in front of the fire one day and
ask me nicely. Here's what we'll do," he continued, grinning broadly.
"If I take that bird home to roast, you'll come up and eat it with us and
listen to my stories. I could use a fresh audience. Folks around here don't
appreciate my offerings much lately."

Elizabeth
laughed. "Yes, I'll take you up on that," she said. "But there
won't be any bird for you to roast if you don't take a chance."

"Well,
me and the boy have still not come to a conclusion on how we should spend this
one shilling we got between us," he said. "Nathaniel! How's that
shoulder feel?"

Elizabeth
wondered how she could offer them a shilling so that both could have a shot at
the turkey, but nothing occurred to her which wouldn't embarrass them, and so
she kept still, listening instead to their banter.

The
cloud of gunsmoke had grown to considerable proportions and the crowd of
shooters had dwindled. Billy did his best to keep a good thing going.
"Now, I know some of you out there got the price of this bird," he
called. "Step up and be counted. You, Nathaniel, you still leaning on that
sore shoulder of yourn?"

There
was a moment's silence, and then Nathaniel nodded. "I'll have a
shot," he said calmly, and moved forward to hand Billy his entrance fee.

"Four
quarter bits, four quarter bits, that's right, that's all it takes." Billy
nodded, but his tone was much more subdued now, and it was clear that he
thought the bird's life was about to come to a quick end.

Elizabeth
wondered why she was so very agitated; it was only a bird, after all: she could
see it very clearly, its very long, spindly neck and bobbing head, the wattle
bright red against the background of snow. Not such a very hard shot, she
thought, not for a good marksman with steady hands. The crowd was calling
advice to Nathaniel as he stood up to the shooting stand and checked his rifle
once more, the well—worn stock glinting in the sunlight.

"Come
on, Nathaniel, we're depending on you!"

Yes
, thought
Elizabeth,
it seems that everybody does
depend on you.

There
was silence as Nathaniel took aim. He was very much like his father, Elizabeth
noted. He had the same long, straight back, and he held his head tilted just
the same way, a blue vein pulsing lightly in the slight indentation of his
temple where the dark hairs were drawn back. The line of his arm, the juncture
of gun with shoulder, the very cloud of gunsmoke seemed to settle into
stillness for a small moment. Elizabeth held her breath.

"Don't
think about the shoulder," called Hawkeye gingerly. "You're made of
stronger stuff than a little torn muscle."

"Think
about Miss Elizabeth across the table from you instead!" called Charlie
LeBlanc, just as the powder flashed in the pan.

"Well,"
said Hawkeye after a goodly pause. "He pulled too far to the left, ye see.
Nicked the bloody bird's beak." He spoke to Nathaniel's back. "The
shoulder's too wound, I told you so." And he set off down the snowy
embankment toward the turkey with Billy Kirby and the other men in tow.

Nathaniel
set to reloading his rifle straightaway. For the moment they were alone.
Elizabeth watched as he removed the plug from his horn and poured a measure of
powder into the barrel. From a pouch on his belt he took a greased cotton
patch—Elizabeth noted with some surprise that it was brightly colored, the kind
of fabric a woman would use for a skirt—and wrapped it around a lead ball which
came out of his bullet bag. He detached the ramrod from its brackets and shoved
this all down the rifle barrel with one firm push. Then he poured more powder
into the priming pan. All of this took less than a minute's worth of quick and
economical movements, and the whole time, Nathaniel seemed to be more focused
on Elizabeth than he was on his job.

"I'm
sorry," Elizabeth said, meaning that he had lost his shilling. Then she
wished she had remained quiet.

Nathaniel
grinned. "Well," he said. "I suppose I'll have to forgo your
company at my table. At least for the time being."

Elizabeth
looked away toward the men arguing over the state of the turkey. "I
wouldn't have thought you would give up so easily."

He
raised an eyebrow, amused. "There are other birds in the forest," he
pointed out. "And as far as getting you to my table, I expect that won't be
too difficult, either."

"Talk
is easy," Elizabeth said lightly, causing Nathaniel to laugh out loud.

Down
the embankment, Dr. Todd was called to officiate. The bird was pronounced
scared half to death, but whole enough for the competition to continue.

"Maybe
you'll get a taste of the bird anyway," Nathaniel was saying to Elizabeth,
and she looked up with a start to see her brother at the shooting stand. She
had been so involved with Nathaniel and the scene at hand that it had never
occurred to Elizabeth that this was a sporting event—and that Julian's promise
to refrain from participating in such events was being tested for the first
time since leaving England.

"Julian,"
she said. Then louder, calling to him: "Julian!"

Her
brother turned, an eyebrow raised.

"You
can't shoot," Elizabeth said.

Julian
ignored her, but Katherine came up, flushed with cold and excitement.
"Richard loaned him his rifle. Your brother's agreed to champion me,"
she said brightly. "Father would be very glad of the bird, and I thought
it worth a shilling."

"Julian,"
Elizabeth said quietly to her brother's back. "You promised."

Rather
than watch her brother check his gun and take sight, Elizabeth turned and
walked away. She had just pushed her way free of the crowd around the shooting stand
when Julian's first shot went afield. Clutching her skirt in her hands, she
turned back to see her brother throwing another coin to Billy Kirby.