Key City on the River. Greta Gorsuch
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eyes so he could not see the water. Harv got a little quieter. Then suddenly, a very large log crashed into the side of the ferryboat. The log was really a large tree floating in the water. Aunt Sunday cried out in the back of the wagon. She was scared.
Jones the ferry owner shouted, “It’s all right! There was a storm a few days ago! There are lots of trees in the water today. Don’t worry!”
But Harv didn’t care what the ferry owner said. With the crash of the log on the side of the boat, he went wild. He pulled on the rope as hard as he could. Suddenly, the rope snapped free. Harv fell over the side of the boat into the deep, fast water. Nate ran to the side of boat. Harv’s head came out of the water. Nate grabbed Harv’s rope. He held Harv’s head above water. It was hard to hold on to Harv. He was such a large, strong horse. Mrs. Butterman ran over to help. So did Mr. Butterman. “Hold him!” yelled Mr. Butterman. The water was fast, but just then they got to the edge of the river. Harv’s feet found the rocky river bottom.
It was almost dark now. Harv climbed up out of the river. Nate jumped out of the boat after him. He held onto Harv’s rope. He led the wild horse away from the water onto the muddy riverbank. Mr. Butterman drove one wagon off of the ferryboat. Mrs. Butterman climbed onto the second wagon. Penny moved over and Mrs. Butterman sat next to her. Mrs. Butterman drove the second wagon off the boat. Then she turned to Aunt Sunday, who was crying into her shawl.
“Aunt Sunday,” she said. “You’re going to be all right. It’s over. We’re across. We’re in Iowa.”
But Aunt Sunday just cried. Ella Butterman turned to Penny. Penny said, “She told me this morning she didn’t want to cross the water. She thought she would never see Virginia again if she crossed the Mississippi.”
“Ah,” said Mrs. Butterman. “Well . . . I’m sure she misses home.” Mrs. Butterman herself was from Ohio. She had never been to Virginia. “So what do you think, Penny? What do you think about Iowa so far?” she said.
Penny answered, “I can’t really see it! It’s too dark!” Both women laughed softly.
Nate tied Harv to the back of Mr. Butterman’s wagon. Harv was shaking and cold. Nate climbed into the wagon next to Mr. Butterman. The two wagons rode into the darkness. They would camp tonight. But tomorrow they would be in Key City.
Chapter Four
Iowa Territory,
November 22, 1833
Mrs. Ella Butterman woke Penny up. The sun was not yet up. But the sky in the east was a thin blue with a bright, bright star.
“It’s time to make breakfast,” said Mrs. Butterman. “Mr. Butterman wants to get started early. He wants to get to the Land Office in Key City. Maybe find the land we bought.”
“Yes, alright,” said Penny. She sat up. She wrapped her shawl tightly around her. It was so cold, much colder than Maryland, where she was from. Penny climbed out of the wagon. She tied on her warm boots. She called to Mrs. Butterman, “Should I wake up Aunt Sunday?”
Ella Butterman answered, “No. She’s tired out from crossing the river yesterday. Let her sleep. She can start cooking again tomorrow.” Aunt Sunday was the best cook Penny ever saw. But if she needed a rest today, then so be it. Penny walked over to the fire. The sun came over the edge of the earth with a flash of red, then gold. The sky got bright. The bright star in the east faded away.
Penny fried some meat over the fire. Mrs. Butterman found some cold biscuits from yesterday. She boiled coffee. She said, “Mr. Butterman is hunting for our dinner. He should be back soon. I hope he gets a turkey.” As soon as she said that, she heard a gunshot, far away. There was another shot. Then a third shot. Then the sound faded. Penny smiled. Mr. Butterman talked a lot. And he worried a lot. He felt he never had enough time. But he was good with a gun. Whenever he shot his gun, he hit what he pointed at. So if that was his gunshot just now, they were going to have fresh meat for dinner.
Iowa Territory was new territory. It had opened to white people only the year before. Before that, it was Indian territory. Only Indians could live there, west of the Mississippi River. The Indians, the Sauks and the Foxes, had many villages. It was their home for hundreds of years. But times changed. White people wanted the land. And so many people like the Buttermans quickly made plans to go to Iowa Territory. They bought land. They made plans to farm, to mine for lead, or to open a business.
But this life was not going to be easy. Key City, where they were going, was less than a few months old. There were no shops. There were no banks and no churches. There was nowhere to buy meat. There were no roads, really. There were just some Indian trails. There were only a few houses. Instead there were deep, dark forests. There were many small rocky streams and rivers. These were filled with fish and turtles. There were many animals. Penny could see two or three deer standing back in the shadows of the trees. If you wanted fresh meat, you could hunt for it.
Breakfast was ready. Mrs. Butterman saved a plate of food for Mr. Butterman. Penny called Nate to come for breakfast. He was taking care of Harv. The big riding horse had cuts on his legs. The rocks in the river were hard on Harv’s legs. Lucky for Harv, Nate knew what to do. He had some special medicine and he gently put it on Harv’s cuts. Nate was good at doctoring horses and other animals.
“Come on to breakfast, Nate!” called Penny. Nate left Harv and came to the fire.
Chapter Five
Iowa Territory,
November 22, 1833
Mr. Butterman brought two turkeys from his hunting trip. He was smiling. “What luck!” he said. “This is good land. I saw five or six turkeys!” He put the turkeys on the cold ground. Then he sat down and ate his breakfast. He was done in less than two minutes. Like everything else, he did it fast. He drank some hot, strong coffee and walked over to Harv. He looked at Harv’s legs. He called over to Nate, “Did you try your special medicine?”
“Yes sir,” said Nate. It sounded like Yassuh.
“Hmm,” said Mr. Butterman. “That looks good. You’re good with Harv.”
Nate’s teeth flashed in a smile. “I learned to take care of horses when I was a boy.”
“Where are you from?” asked Mr. Butterman. “I never asked.”
“From Virginia, sir. The same place as Aunt Sunday,” said Nate.
“Hmmm,” said Mr. Butterman again. He said that when he was thinking about something. “Well,” he said, “Let’s get out of here. I want to find that land we bought. It might be a few hours away, still. My, it gets so dark so fast in Iowa!”
Penny woke Aunt Sunday up. She got the old lady a little breakfast. Then she and Mrs. Butterman quickly put out the fire. They got ready to leave. Penny could see the Mississippi River from the camp. But this side of the river seemed quieter. She couldn’t hear the water as much. It was still a lot of water. But from here, in Iowa Territory, it seemed different. The sun coming up behind it turned the river into a huge golden rope. The biggest rope you ever saw.
Mr. Butterman tied Harv behind his wagon. He wanted to ride Harv, but Harv’s legs had cuts on them. After a few days, Nate’s medicine would begin to work. The two wagons drove north toward Key City.
They drove through thick trees. Sometimes the trees were so thick that it was dark under them. There was no road. It looked like a small path through the trees. At one place, a rocky bluff and the river came very close to each other. Penny thought her wagon would fall into the river. “Not again,” she thought. But Mrs. Butterman was good with the wagon. They didn’t have any trouble.
After an hour, they left the steep bluffs behind and they came to a flat area. It was very wet and muddy. Then they saw a small house. It was just a one-room log cabin. It didn’t have any windows. Smoke came from the stone chimney. Then the single door of the cabin opened. A white woman looked at them. Mr. Butterman spoke to her. She answered, pointing to a path that went between two steep hills, off to the left. Then she went back into her house.