The Iron Dragon Never Sleeps (6 page)

“Hear what?”

Lee frowned. “Perhaps it is nothing. But three men were walking not far behind me. They moved as I moved. And they were carrying clubs.”

“Oh.”

“I tried to run ahead and hide my way. I do not know if I succeeded.”

“I don’t hear anything now,” said Winnie. “You said you went to a meeting this morning. Did it go well?”

“Not so good, I think. Many workers are angry. They came to this country to make money. It is money they want to take home.”

“Home?” Winnie was surprised. “You mean back to China?”

Lee nodded. “Most who come do not wish to stay. The ones who do not gamble can save twenty dollars a month. That is a lot of money in China. My father always planned to return home to Kwangtung Province and buy a farm.”

Winnie could not imagine leaving her own country just to find work. And then to go back afterward! The Chinese must love their country very much to do that.

“And your mother came with him?” she asked.

“No, no,” said Lee. “It is not a trip for women. He met my mother here, in San Francisco.”

All the time Lee had been talking, Winnie had been sketching. She always had trouble doing people because they moved too much. But Lee remained still while he spoke.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Winnie blushed. “Just drawing.”

Lee got up to take a look. “That is me!” he cried. He touched the paper gently.

“I’m glad you think so,” said Winnie. “Would you like to have it?”

Lee looked surprised. “To keep? It would be a special gift.” He paused. “I do not have anything for you in return.”

“That’s all right. I like to give away my drawings.”

They both heard the twigs crack.

“Quick!” whispered Winnie. “Behind the trestles.”

“What about you?” whispered Lee.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “It’s not me they want.”

Winnie started sketching quickly as three men came over the ridge. They stopped at the sight of her.

“Hey! What are you doing there?”

“Just drawing,” said Winnie. She held up her drawing paper. “Why, is something wrong?”

“We were following one of those Chinese boys. He got loose from their camp.”

“Yeah,” said another, shouldering his club. “We wanted to make sure he didn’t get into any trouble.”

Winnie recognized their voices. These were the men she had heard on the stairway.

“You seen anyone hereabouts?”

Winnie scratched her head. “I did hear a noise—off to the left there.”

“Much obliged,” said the third man, tipping his hat. “If you see anyone, though, just holler.”

They turned off the path and scrambled down the hill.

Winnie waited two full minutes, barely daring to breathe. Then she walked up to the ridge for a look.

“They’re gone now,” she said.

Lee emerged from the shadows. He brushed the dirt from his pants.

“I owe you much,” he said.

“Let’s call it even,” said Winnie. “After all, I’m the reason you’re here in the first place.” She let out a long breath. “But maybe we should be going. If you like, we could meet somewhere else tomorrow. Maybe closer to your camp.”

Lee sighed. “I do not think so,” he said. “It could be dangerous for you.” He grinned abruptly. “And for me, too. But thank you, Winnie Tucker. This is a morning I will not forget.”

E
ARLY
M
ONDAY MORNING
the Celestials all returned to work. The strike had lasted only a week. But it had been seven long days for everyone concerned.

As Eli Tucker had predicted, few of the Chinese demands were met. They received another two dollars a month for their trouble, but nothing else changed.

The weeks passed quickly after the strike was settled. On some mornings Winnie found ice already creeping around the edge of the snow ponds. And the squirrels began to gather nuts constantly, except when afternoon rains pelted the ground like hail.

Winnie saw even less of her father than before. He was almost always busy. The strike had cost the railroad time. The loss was a luxury they could not afford.

“We’re cutting a fair number of corners,” Eli remarked more than once at dinner.

“You must be careful,” said Marjorie.

“Is it dangerous digging in the tunnel?” Winnie asked.

Her father paused. “The railroad doesn’t think so,” he said, and was silent after that.

One late afternoon Winnie and her mother went to pick up her father on the mountain. The buckboard clattered along the bumpy dirt road. The ride rattled Winnie’s teeth.

“I wish Papa didn’t work late so often,” she said.

“It’s not his choice,” said her mother. “The railroad’s in an awful hurry.”

“I know, I know. I don’t think the Celestials even get time to breathe.”

“How is Lee, by the way?” asked her mother. “Eating better, I hope.”

Winnie glanced at her mother, but she kept her face forward.

“I haven’t talked to him lately,” said Winnie. “I’ve seen him passing at times. He always looks tired.” She paused. “Isn’t that Flap Jack over there?”

It was. The old miner waved to them from the far side of a meadow.

They stopped the wagon.

Flap Jack hobbled over. “I twisted my ankle,” he said. “Stepped in a gopher hole.”

“What are you doing up here?” Winnie asked.

“Sometimes even Cisco seems a bit crowded,” he replied. “I was getting some air.”

“We can give you a ride back to town,” said Marjorie. “But first we have to pick up Eli.”

“I’m a rich man where time is concerned,” said Flap Jack. “As long as I can sit down, I’ll be fine.”

Winnie moved into the back of the wagon to make room for Flap Jack up front. He settled in, and they continued on their way.

Their route followed the train tracks heading for Donner Lake. Much of the track was not visible, though. It was covered by half-completed wooden sheds.

“Look how they’re covering up the tracks,” said Winnie. “I wonder why.”

Her mother smiled. “Those are snowsheds.”

“Snowsheds?”

“To keep the track from getting covered with snow in the winter.”

“Can’t they just plow the snow off?” Winnie asked.

Her mother shook her head. “Not always. Last winter, your father told me, it took five locomotives to push one plow through a fifteen-foot drift. And
even at that, the plow couldn’t always get through. So the railroad is building these snowsheds to keep the tracks clear.”

“Look!” cried Flapjack.

They could see fire and smoke rising from the mountain ahead.

“It’s like a volcano,” said Winnie. She had never seen one in person, but she had seen pictures in a book.

Mrs. Tucker pulled the buggy to a halt. Thunderous explosions were shaking the air. Tons of rocks and dirt were shooting skyward. The sound echoed down the canyons like a string of firecrackers.

“What’s going on?” asked Mrs. Tucker.

“They’re hurrying the blasts in before sunset,” said Flap Jack.

“Whoa!” said Mrs. Tucker, steadying their horse.

Suddenly the blasts stopped.

Flap Jack frowned. “Now that’s odd,” he said. “They don’t usually stop all at once like that. Generally one spot or another needs clearing up. Unless …”

“Unless what?” asked Winnie.

Flap Jack didn’t answer.

“Someone’s coming,” said Winnie.

“And fast,” said her mother.

A moment later a rider came cantering around the bend.

“What’s wrong?” Flap Jack shouted.

“Been an accident,” said the rider as he went by. “Got to fetch the doctor.” And then he was gone.

Winnie and her mother shared a worried glance.

“Giddyup there,” said Marjorie.

T
HE FIRST THING THEY SAW
was the collapsed tunnel entrance. Where a large hole had stood minutes before, there was now only a jumble of rocks and dirt.

The air hung heavily with dust. Most of the shouting had stopped, but the foremen were still trying to organize the crews into long lines.

One foreman saw the Tuckers pull up in the buggy. He rushed over to them.

“Mrs. Tucker?”

“Yes.”

“How did you get here so soon?”

She looked confused. “I don’t understand.”

“I mean, it’s only been minutes. How did you know that Eli—”

He stopped abruptly, seeing the change in her expression.

“I didn’t know,” she said slowly. She pointed to the tunnel. “Eli? Eli’s trapped in there?”

“He came over this afternoon,” said the foreman. “We needed his help.”

“What happened?” asked Flap Jack.

“Someone set a charge too close to the support beams. The explosion knocked several of them out. Some men are trapped inside. About eight, I think.” He gulped. “But don’t you worry, we’ll get Eli out. We’ll get them all out.”

Marjorie nodded dully.

Winnie looked at the huge pile of rubble. The crews were digging frantically at it, but they didn’t seem to be making much of a dent.

Winnie felt dizzy. Her father was trapped behind that small mountain. She wanted to be brave, but she only felt frozen. It was easy to read about courage in a book. It was different when it was really happening.

“Step aside! Make room!”

It was Mr. Strobridge. His beard looked even darker in the lengthening shadows.

Winnie was glad to see him. He was in charge, wasn’t he? He was sure to do something.

He started by shouting orders. Some men
brought up more pickaxes and shovels. Others tied ropes around some of the fallen timbers.

Come on
, thought Winnie.
Faster! Faster!

“What’s going on?” her mother asked. “It looks as if some things are being done twice. Why isn’t everyone working together?”

“White crews won’t work with the Celestials,” Flap Jack explained.

“Why not?” asked Winnie.

The old miner sighed. “Because they’re Chinese. That’s all the reason they need. White workers are willing to boss the Celestials, but they won’t work as a team,”

But this is an emergency
, thought Winnie.

Winnie looked around anxiously. It was then she saw Lee standing quietly beside her.

“Oh!”

“I am sorry, Winnie Tucker. I did not mean to frighten you.”