Worthy of Riches (9 page)

“I'm not surprised.” Will nodded at the husky. “What about the dog?”

“Ray says dogs are good to have around when you're huntin' bear, that is, if it's a good dog. And Jed is. Ray always takes him. Jed don't miss nothin'.” Frank hitched up his pants with his free hand. “Ray's had that dog since it was a pup, more than eight years now. Don't know what he'll do when ole' Jed's gone.”

Will nodded. He'd never thought of Ray as a person who cared much about anything, especially dogs. Maybe there was more to the man than met the eye. He didn't suppose Ray Townsend was much different from most folks. People wore all kinds of masks, depending on
what they wanted others to know. He studied the big man and wondered how it would be if Ray were the one taking orders instead of giving them. Will doubted it had ever happened.

“So, you got a dog?” Frank asked.

“No, but we've been thinking maybe we ought to get one—especially after the bear. Heard bears don't like dogs.”

“They don't, not usually. Course, if you've got a real ornery grizzly, it don't make no difference.” Frank pushed his tobacco deeper into his cheek, then dug into his coat pocket and pulled out a leather pouch. Holding it out to Will, he asked, “You chew?”

“No. Never took up the habit.”

Fishing out a pinch, he added to what he already had in his mouth, then returned the pouch to his pocket. “Just as well. Ruins your teeth. I started when I was barely in britches. My granddaddy chewed, my daddy chewed, and I chew.” He grinned, and removing his hat, brushed back his short, damp hair. “Sweatin' already.”

Passing through tranquil farmland, the men fell quiet. Finally Will asked, “You hunt bears much?”

“A few. It's not something I like to do. It's just plain hard work and dangerous. I like the pelts; they make good rugs. And the meat's good.” Frank looked at Will and said earnestly, “This is serious business— huntin' grizzly. You do as you're told, and don't take nothin' for granted. A mean bear like this would just as soon tear you apart as look at you.”

“You think he's going to give us trouble?”

“He sure will if he can, but we'll give him more.” Frank grinned. “Ray knows what he's doing. Even though you two got bad blood between you, you listen to him and do as he says. That way you won't get hurt.”

“I'll remember that,” Will said, knowing he'd do exactly as he was told.

“I'd say this bear's smart. He's managed to get in and out of a lot of farms without gettin' shot. I'll be glad when he's a rug hangin' on someone's wall.”

Ray stopped on the bridge just before Will's driveway. The men crowded together in the middle of the road. “This your place, Hasper?”

“Yep.”

“Pretty nice,” he said derisively. “Course, what would you expect— with all the help you've had.” Before Will could reply, Ray asked, “Which way?” His horse danced under a tight rein.

Will's anger flared, but he forced it back. Fighting with this man would serve no good purpose.
Father, help me be a light. Don't let my anger smother whatever you're doing here.
He pointed toward the north field where Luke was working on the fence. “His tracks led off that way, then disappeared into the woods.”

Ray kicked his heels into his horse's sides. Breaking into a lope, he led the men around the fence line. Thrusting a shovel into the sod, Luke watched the approaching riders. “Hi, Dad,” he said when his father was within hearing distance.

“Morning, son.” Some of the others responded. Ray simply asked, “So, he ran off through here?”

“Sure did,” Luke answered. “He headed straight off that-a-way into the timber. I followed his trail this morning, but I never saw him. Sure would like to though. I'll plug him if I get a chance.”

His face grim, Ray said flatly, “Don't be so certain. No one wants to just meet up with a bear like that. You hunt him, then you kill him.” He climbed off his horse, kneeled beside a set of prints, and placed a hand in the center of one. Ray Townsend's hands were large, but the bear's prints dwarfed them. “He's a big one, all right.” He glanced over his shoulder at his friends. “'Course, we knew that.” He followed the bear's prints a short ways, stopping occasionally to examine the tracks and measure the paces between them.

“What's he doing?” Will asked Frank.

“I'd say he's figurin' the bear's gait and studying his prints. That way he'll be able to track him, and we won't end up following the wrong animal. Ray's good. He knows what he's doing. He's done more trackin' and huntin' than anyone I know. He's had his run-ins, though. Nearly got himself killed a few years back.”

“Oh, yeah?”

Luke walked up to his father. His voice quiet, he said, “I can be ready in five minutes.”

Frank overheard. “This ain't no place for youngsters. You'll be wise to keep to home.”

Luke glared at the man. “I'm no youngster.”

Will smiled. “We already talked about this. Your mama needs you and your brother and sister too. I've got to have someone here to look after things—someone I can trust.”

Luke looked like he was about to argue, then said, “All right. I'll stay.”

Ray walked back to his horse and mounted. “We need to make up some time. That bear's got a good head start on us.” Baleful eyes rested on Will. “We'll be riding.”

Without waiting, Ray headed toward the forest, leaving Frank and Will to repack the gear. Frank looked at Will. “Maybe you ought to get your saddle.”

Will climbed aboard and glanced at the barn on the other end of the property. “It'll take too long. I've ridden bareback plenty of times.” Will nodded at Luke. “I'll be home soon as I can. Tell your mama I love her.” He kicked his horse, and he and Frank chased after the rest of the hunting party.

When they caught up, Ray was spouting orders. “Remember, this is a big brownie, and we know he's not afraid of people. He's dangerous. Stay alert.” He picked up the pace, heading deeper into the forest.

Climbing out of the valley, the men left farmland behind. The terrain turned steep and was heavily forested. Trees and brush pressed in, and Will had a sense of being swallowed by the green wilderness. The grizzly was following a well-used bear trail. Unable to see beyond the edge of the brush, the men were constantly on alert. They could come face-to-face with the bear at any moment.

Seemingly unperturbed, Ray pushed on, occasionally stopping to climb off his mount to examine the tracks or bushes. Birds serenaded the men as they passed. Their music calmed Will's edginess.

After following the trail for several miles, the bear had cut into the woods. Ray didn't miss it. He stopped, climbed off his horse, and studied the prints. “Yep, it's him,” he said, returning to the saddle. Will wished he'd saddled his horse. His backside and legs were aching. Without the saddle, he had to work harder to maintain his seat.

The men moved off the path, and the trees closed in around them. Will was jumpy. The muscles in his neck and shoulders were tight. Did
the bear know he was being followed? Would he break out of the brush in a surprise attack?

The other men didn't speak to Will, their loyalty to Ray clear. Frank, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy talking with Will about his life and his plans for the future. Still, Will rode alone most of the time. He knew he wasn't wanted or needed and began to question the wisdom of going along. These men knew what they were doing and could easily hunt down a bear without him.

Why had he insisted on joining them? It wasn't like him to shove his way into anything. As he considered the situation, he still felt a driving need to be part of the chase.
Why?
he wondered. Did it have something to do with God's will, or was it simply his own stubbornness and pride that had brought him here? Either way, it made little difference. It was too late to change his mind. He was committed. He'd simply have to make the most of it and hopefully serve God in the midst of the adventure. Maybe he'd find a way to break down some of the barriers between himself and Ray Townsend.

The bear led them up steep hills and into hidden valleys, along narrow trails clinging to rock faces, and across shallow streams cutting through canyon floors.

All the while, Ray Townsend never missed an opportunity to belittle Will, throwing hateful looks and words at the outsider whenever possible. Refusing to retaliate, Will kept his mind on God's goodness. Relishing the world around him, he breathed in the scent of spruce and pine and enjoyed the birds and squirrels creating or repairing homes among the boughs.

At one point, the men made their way around a marshy area, stopping for a moment to watch a moose grazing among lilies and bog beans. Ray spat tobacco juice, and the heavy animal startled, then charged away, disappearing into the forest.

Hours passed, but the bear stayed well ahead of them. Will could feel his horse tiring, and his own body ached. Longing for rest, he gratefully climbed off his Morgan at a broad stream when Ray called for a breather.

“We'll water the horses and rest a while,” he said. Throwing a disdainful glance at Will, he kneeled along the bank, dipped his hands into icy water, and scooped it into his mouth.

Everyone drank, including the horses. Ray and the others sat on a grassy knoll and dug into their packs for food. Will sat alongside the stream, studying a beaver lodge on the far side while he worked his way through a cheese sandwich. He'd hoped to catch a glimpse of one of the hard-working animals, but the beavers stayed in hiding. His only entertainment was a duck and ducklings navigating the reeds along the bank. The mother occasionally dipped her face into the water, leaving a feathered tail bobbing.

The men talked about hunting and fishing and an upcoming fur sale. Suddenly, their voices quieted. Ray, Joe, and Mike glanced at Will more than once. An occasional snicker carried over the ground between them and Will. Frank ate in silence.

Knowing Townsend couldn't be trusted, Will knew he'd better stay alert. He didn't know what to expect from the homesteader, but it couldn't be good.

Will was still troubled about why he had come and wondered if he ought to return to his family. He didn't belong. He was a farmer. However, even as he considered leaving, he knew he would stay. He wasn't about to quit, not with Ray Townsend and the others hoping he would leave.

Leaning back on his hands, Will gazed at gray clouds and an occasional patch of blue. The sky looked less threatening than it had that morning. Sunshine would feel good. His mind wandered to Jean. She was probably working in the vegetable garden, her auburn hair shimmering under sunlight and sweat glistening on her face and bodice. He smiled. She was a fine woman. A loud laugh brought Will back to the present.

Mike, wearing a smirk, glanced his way. Will wondered who was more dangerous, these men he was with or the bear. He suddenly had a strong urge to head for home, and he almost rose to leave. But something stopped him. He had to see this through.

Ray sauntered toward Will, then knelt beside him, keeping his gaze on the water. “So, how you like tracking so far?”

“I like it fine. Seen some beautiful countryside.”

He continued to stare at the stream. “You do, huh? Well, I wouldn't count on it staying so pleasant. You never know what might be ahead.”
He settled his gray eyes on Will. They looked cold and dispassionate. His lips curved up in a smirk. “Stay alert. That bear could be almost anywhere.” As if to make his point, his eyes moved to the forest and across the creek. “He's a slick one.”

Yeah,
Will thought,
about as slick as you.

“He knows we're after him.” Ray stood, then strode across the clearing and mounted his horse.

The rest of the day, Ray continued to make derogatory remarks about farmers and colonists as often as possible, always speaking loudly enough so Will could hear.
If you're waiting for a counterattack from me,
Will thought,
you'll have a long wait.
He understood that Ray was trying to provoke him. Determined not to impede God's plan, he rode and prayed.

After an especially cruel attack, Frank joined Will. Bouncing along on his stubby mount, he asked, “You gonna' let him get away with that? Stand up for yourself, man.”

Will measured his answer carefully before speaking. Frank was a good man but loyal to Ray Townsend. “What good would it do? I figure I'll just keep quiet and stay along for the ride. Maybe I'll be needed.”

“After what he said, you're still worried about being needed?” He shook his head. “I never would have guessed you'd put up with that kind of malarkey.” He sounded disappointed.

Will leveled a calm look at Frank. “You want me to argue with the man? Why?”

Frank didn't answer right away. “I just figured a real man would fight back.”

“To be honest I'd like to, but like I said …”

“I know, won't do no good.” Frank shrugged. “I s'pose you're right. Just never thought someone like you would put up with it. If it were someone else, I'd say he was chicken.” He sized up Will. “You're not afraid.”

Will smiled. “I came out here to get a bear. Did Ray have something else in mind?”

Frank was silent a moment, then said, “You know, he ain't such a bad fella'. He's been a good friend to me, and he's the best tracker and hunter I know.”

“I believe you,” Will said evenly. “You think there's anything that would pry his hatred for me and the other colonists out of him?”

Frank leaned forward and resettled himself in the saddle. “I s'pect he'll change if and when he's ready. He's a proud man, sometimes too proud.” He grinned and kicked his mount. “Your not fightin' back is makin' him madder than that old grizzly.”

“I thought he looked a little tight,” Will said with a wry smile.

“You be careful. You get him real mad and—well, just be careful.” He pulled his hat down in front, then moved ahead and joined the others.

That night they set up camp in a small clearing. Jean had packed enough food for the lot of them, so Will offered to cook a hot meal. Since no one else seemed inclined to do any cooking, and Will had venison, vegetables, and Jean's flaky biscuits, his offer wasn't challenged. During the meal the men seemed more amiable, and Will hoped he'd made a chink in their armor.