Angie of the Garden

Chapter Eight-3

Instead Angie crawled into her tent, settling in for the evening to read Irish Eloquence by candlelight. The book contained the speeches of noted Irish orators Charles Phillips, John Curran and Henry Grattan. Angie had left the flap of her tent open to eliminate its musty smell. After reading only a few pages she noticed a pair of curious eyes peering inside from the darkness. She nonchalantly located her knife.

"Who's there?" Angie asked.

There was no answer so she asked again. Suddenly a nine-year-old boy poked his head inside her tent.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. We were just walking around the camp when I saw your light. I didn't mean to bother you."
"Who's with you?"
"My sister. Pa said we were making him antsy, so we thought we'd best be somewhere else fast."
"Come inside," Angie replied pleasantly. "My name is Angie Barton."

Benjamin Aston entered the tent with his sister Clara in tow. Angie took an instant liking to the well-mannered youngsters, though she could see that they were wound up from the events of the long day. Angie easily understood why their father would find their restlessness distracting. She thought reading to the children might relax them. Irish Eloquence did not seem suited to this audience, so she took out her copy of David Copperfield instead.

"To begin at the beginning," Angie began the story. Clare and Benjamin listened eagerly to Dickens's description of the English boy's life. Angie read to them for an hour before escorting the children back to the Aston's wagon."
"You never mentioned the children in your writing," Hollis interrupted her narrative.
"There were so many things to describe. I couldn't include them all."

The next morning the settlers were again woken by the sound of the bugle. They crawled out of their respective tents, gingerly standing up on their aching feet. Angie took some bacon out of the wagon for breakfast. The cooking fire Cassia had started illuminated the meat, revealing that it had turned green. Upon closer inspection Angie discovered that the bacon was also infested with maggots.
Angie dropped it on the ground. She ran away from the wagon, falling to her knees before vomiting. The Boston immigrant's recovery was hastened by the sound of footsteps coming from behind her.

"Are you all right, Miss Barton?" Crawford asked her.
"Yes, I am."

There was a self-satisfied expression on the face of their guide. He was apparently
thinking that his initial evaluation of her had been proven correct. The big man turned and started to walk away.

"I won't become one of the turnarounds," Angie called after him. "I will travel all the way to California."

Silas stopped in his tracks. He turned to face her.

"There's no shame in going home, Miss Barton. You're someone who's used to living high on the hog. And that makes it twice as tough when some scurvy butcher in Independence sells you bad bacon."

Silas walked away. Angie finished making breakfast.

Angie continued to read nightly installments of David Copperfield to the children. For Angie these sessions entailed a significant sacrifice. The other adults in the wagon train spent their evenings dancing to the fiddler's bow. The immigrants moved to the lively music as though they did not have a care in the world.

"I don't want to cause any trouble, Miss Angie," Benjamin said as they walked back to the Aston wagon one night. "But there's something I have to tell you. Miss Patty Henderson, she, well she borrowed Miss Cassia's broach."
"Borrowed?"
"Well, she took it, Miss Angie. I just thought you should know."
Angie gave Benjamin a hug.
"Thank you for telling me about this. Good night."

There had been several incidents whereby a settler inexplicably lost a valued possession. Patty Henderson, who was traveling with a sinister looking man who was not her husband, was often mentioned as a possible suspect. Angie remembered the broach Benjamin had referred to. Cassia had received it from her late mother. Up to this point she had not been aware the jewelry was gone. Angie was pleased to see that Patty and her companion were still dancing with the others when she arrived at their wagon. Cassia's friend searched the schooner, discovering the broach in a large wooden chest. She waited in the shadows until the pair returned. When they arrived, Angie grabbed Patty from behind, throwing her up against the wagon. The knife in her hand was enough to prevent the man from reaching for his powder horn pistol.

"You take one more thing from anyone in this camp, and I'll see to it that you're both left behind for the pleasure of the Indians!"

Angie knocked her to the ground before leaving.

"Why didn't you mention the thief in your diary?" asked Hollis, who was impressed by the apparition's actions.
"I'm not one for casting aspersions, even if they are true. I thought someone might read my diary one day. And as you know, I was right."
"As I remember you stopped writing in the diary after reaching the Devil's Gate. Why?"

Angie stared at him with her brilliant green eyes. Hollis noticed that she wrung her hands before speaking.

"Cassia was badly hurt before we reached Fort Bridger."
"I'm so sorry, Angie. What happened?"

The apparition was swayed by the doctor's sincerity. After considering the matter
for a moment Angie decided to continue, in light of Hollis's genuine concern about her friend.

The Devil's Gate was a canyon formed by two imposing rock formations through which the Sweetwater River ran in what would later become the state of Wyoming. The rocky walls on either side of it were over four hundred feet high. Many who explored the canyon came out of it feeling as though they had been somewhere where time had stood still. The name of this place made some of the settlers uneasy, so the Crawford Party did not linger for long.

"We can't go through it," Silas informed the settlers. "The drop off on the other side is too much for the animals to manage. We'll go around it."

After the party reached the other side they encountered a series of deep ravines. Suddenly an uneasy murmur spread throughout the party.

"Look, on the rocks," Cassia said with both amazement and fear in her voice.

Angie observed a countless number of rattlesnakes sunning themselves on the rocky outcrops along the side of the trail. She had never been afraid of snakes, yet these insolent looking rattlers were enough to start her heart racing.

"This land is evil," one frightened settler remarked.
"I'm surprised you didn't turn around," Hollis remarked. "I can't imagine a more intimidating place to travel through."
"I'll admit I thought about it for a minute," she conceded. "But I said I wouldn't quit, and I didn't."

Angie continued her story. Jake Anderson, another member of the Crawford Party, had come walking up beside them with his rifle in hand.

"Don't worry, ladies," he assured them. "They won't bother you if you don't bother them."
"That truly was the Devil's Gate," Angie remarked. "His serpents are all gathering before it to serve their master."

Cassia said a quick prayer. Wyatt chuckled to himself on the buckboard.

"Come on, Cass," he said with a smile. "There are more snakes then that in Ohio. And they're bigger, too."
"But most of those are the two legged kind, dear husband," she replied with a grin.