Trail of Treasure

Trail of Treasure: A Romantic Adventure...

"Ahh, Charlotte, my dear." The strained voice of a middle aged man rang out proudly. "You are so very brave. You make me the proudest father in the entire world." The words left the man out of breath. Worse yet, he began to cough of a storm. The man, Hiraim Pemberton, loved a good folktale. Ever since he was a boy, he read all the tall tales and held them to heart. His love was so strong that he even considered them to be real. With all his heart, be believed the treasure was still hidden away just waiting to be found. Even on his deathbed, so to speak, his belief held firm. The old man found his days drastically numbered. He had cancer of the lung and refused treatment. Death would visit him in a number of weeks. The disease left him so frail and sickly that he could not embark on this journey himself. In his place he chose to send his one and only child, a young lady named Charlotte. She too, loved an adventure although she was raised and bred in high society.

"Of course father, dear. I just hope that I don't let you down." The young lady had lugged her own small suitcase down the front steps of her family mansion. "O'Malley's treasure will be ours at long last." She kissed her father's cheeks and hugged him goodbye. "I love you very much and I can't wait for the day I see you again." She spoke those words even though she knew it would not be in this lifetime.

"As do I, Charlie, as do I." The old man responded. With the clearing of his throat, he turned his attention to the group of rough and tough men gathered in the front drive. "Darling, I'd like to introduce you to your crew. They've sworn their lives to both you and I and it is there duty above all to bring you safely back to me."

With this, the patchwork collection of dirty men in raggedy clothes took a wavering step forward. Some looked burly and illiterate, while others looked hungry. The strong workers that Pemberton had removed from his employ for this adventure had apparently been bolstered by a number of idle hands.

Casting their glances about shiftily, the men eyed each other, seeming to wait for a cue. Finally, one of the men, slightly taller and more muscular than the rest, opened his mouth. At first, only a sputter came out. Then, as he spoke in a raspy voice, he gained courage.

"Er, I'm Shanky. I'll be the, uh, foreman, for this venture. I swear upon a mighty oath that I'll deliver us to that treasure. And, uh, Sir," he added, almost as an afterthought, glancing first to Charlotte, then to her father. "We'll be sure to take good care of her."

"Aye, aye," mutter the assortment of crew.

Another of the men, shorter and plumper, with a ruddy complexion and a bushy mustache, looked nervously at Shanky, then spoke. He had a higher-pitched, stuttering voice. "I'll, uh, I'll vouch for that," he said.

Shanky turned to the shorter man and, with a sharp cunning look in his eye, said, "Thank you, Portbrook."

"Well, then, now that that's all settled, we really must be going. It would be a bad omen to start our journey off by missing our departing train." With the snapping of her fingers and the flick of her wrist, Charlotte ordered all the men into line, directing them to finish loading their travel supplies into the carriage. "We have just enough time to get there if we leave now."

Approaching her father, Charlotte gave him a huge and final hug. "I surely will miss you, father. Thank you for this opportunity." With that, she climbed up into her rightful place and they were off. As they were leaving, she leaned out the window and waved widely at the only family that she had.

Things were a blur of a bustle at the train station. The group only have a few mere moments to unload all their baggage and then re-load it onto the train. They were taking the train to the end of the rail, a place truly in the middle of nowhere. From there, they would start a caravan, following the maps drafted up by Mr. Pemberton. It was going to be a long, trialsome, and tiring journey, but the pay off would be marvelous. To help all the members truly ready themselves, the Pemberton's rented a private room for every two people. Unfortunately, there were an odd number of men, so one was stuck with the young lady. Shanky had that honor.

"So, how did you get mixed up in this wild and crazy adventure?" Charlotte asked as she unpacked the things she would need for the train journey.

"Well, lassie, that goes back a ways," Shanky says, pulling out a huge long sigh like he was savoring a beer. A twinkle seems to light up in his eye, while his face clouds over.

"Back then, in the old days," he seems to pause while tying to figure out how long ago, without knowing numbers. "Fence and I." Shanky pauses, seeing the confusion on Charlotte's face. "That's your father, we used to call him that."

"Go on."

"Fence and I, we had a link." Shanky sighs again. "When we were boys, we used to go out playing, in the river. One day, an ordinary day, like today or any other, we were down climbing around by where the vines grow. He swung out over the water. Vine snapped. He didn't know how to swim, a'course. None of us did."

"What happened?"

"I saved his life. Just about lost my own, I reckon. Anyways, ever since then Fence has looked out for me. He used to sneak me a piece of bread now and then. And when he came into money, he made sure I knew I would always have a job."

Charlotte looked at him with her head tilted a little bit sideways.

Suddenly Shanky became much more serious, almost threatening. "Look, Missy. There's more that happened. But I don't tell just anyone, not even Fence's little lassie. And if you're smart, you won't go talking about much, either. Understand?"

It took a moment for all the words to fully sink in, but eventually Charlotte nodded. With disjointed speech, she spat out "O-of course. I understand."

Keeping her head down, her night and bath things clutched to her bosom, the young woman rushed out of the compartment as quickly as she can. Her pace did not slow as she raced down the narrow hallway of the train car to the narrow common bathroom. Finally, once the door was locked for privacy behind her, did she take a deep breath. There was something about the way that Shanky spoke and the things that he said that she found cryptic. Part of her didn't fully trust something. Well, maybe that wasn't it. But something was definitely off about him and the entire situation.

Charlotte took her time getting ready for rest. She changed out of her day garments and tugged her nightgown over her head. Her braid was undone to let her golden locks flow down around her shoulders. It wasn't late in the evening or anything, merely 5:00 at the time, but she knew that she was going to need her rest for the adventurous journey that was before them.

Back in the room, she neatly packed her things back into her bag. "I do not care what you do or how long you stay up and out, just please be quiet and respectful while you are in this compartment with me. That means no brining floozies here, okay? If you must do it, do it in her room." Her back was to the older man the entire time. Even when she crawled into bed, she faced the wall of the the train.

The words of Shanky haunted her dreams that night. In it, she let her mouth run without first consulting her brain. She talked herself into a corner, getting into a lot of trouble with a mere few words. It was as though the young girl could not stop talking. She talked and talked and talked, even up to a ghastly demise. From her nightmare, she awoke with a start, hitting her head on Shanky's bed which was above her own. As her hand clutched her head, the room spun. Her breathing was quick but soon slowed as she realized that she was perfectly safe in the train as it barreled down the tracks.

"What's happening in here?" A voice boomed out. All of a sudden, the door had burst open. In a storm of noise and collapsing panels, a figure crashed through the silence.

"What?! What are you doing here?" Demanded an outraged Charlotte.

"Get out! I'll have yer head!" Shanky raged at the intruding figure.

"What is going on?" The intruding figure asked again, now seeming more confused.

Shanky shot up out of his bed. In his sleeping vestments, his muscular legs pounded with pumping blood as he jumped at the mysterious figure. The figure instinctively raised his arms, and the two men grappled with each other, destroying much of the train car in the process.

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" screamed Charlotte at the top of her lungs.

Red-faced, huffing for breath, with their clothes disheveled, the two men slowed down, and looked over at her, still holding onto each others' clothes.

"What is the matter with you? Explain that to me right now," Charlotte said.

The young, burly intruder spoke somewhat ashamedly. "Look, I heard a loud bang, and I had to come in here. Has there been an explosion? Did something fall off the baggage deck?"

Shanky replied to him, spitting out his words: "You mind your own business, brat. Don't you know this room's for us only? I'm the foreman."

Charlotte looked back and forth between the two men. Shanky shook with a kind of frustrated anger, while the younger man still seemed confused. Sensing an opportunity, he spoke up: "Look, the old man put us on this crew. We swore to protect this, uh, little lassy, no matter what. Now I may not be higher than any other feller on this here venture, and for all I know I may be last in line. But as these cloths cover my back, I will protect this little lassy until we have that treasure and safely get it back to her pa."

By the time he finished speaking, he had practically run out of breath, and the room felt like all the air in it had changed.

Shanky looked briefly over to Charlotte, then back to the youngster, and said: "We'll jus' see 'bout that, lad. You go back to your cabin while we call the porter to clean this up. And you and I aren't through, Halvenport."

"Actually, I think really fine and well that you are finished, Shanky.There will be no more of this bad blood boiling between you. While I do not know the history here, it is stopping today. The adventure we've embarked on is extremely dangerous and will only be successful if we all can move forward as united team. Do you hear me? Do you understand?" Her voice boomed through the cabin, loud and firm. The expression she wore spoke levels as to how deeply she meant it.

"Now, thank you for your concern, Halvenport, but everything is dandy. I merely hit my head on the bunk, is all. Go on and get back to sleep. You will need your rest and strength for our travels. Good night." She waved the younger man out and slipped from her bed to shut the door behind him.

"You, too." The next comment was directed from Shanky. "I do not wish to hear a peep from you the rest of the night." With a polite good night to him as well, she returned into the lower bunk, once more facing the wall.

The next morning came way too swiftly for anyone's liking. And, not too long after the break of dawn, they arrived at the end of the line. The train groaned as it slowed to a stop and Charlotte and her lot, the only ones left on the train, were prompted off. They all gathered near the tracks with all their things as the train began to pull away, heading back in the direction from which it came. Dust blew up into the faces as the train picked up speed. This made Charlotte cough and coated her face in a thin layer. Taking out a handkerchief, she attempted to make herself presentable once more.

"He should have been here by now.." The young woman pocketed her handkerchief once more before shielding her eyes from the sun to peer out in the distance. "Ah, yes! There he is now." Just over the horizon, a group of horses, one wagon, and the like could be seen making their way toward the awaiting crew. A single man was among the oncoming animals. They were so well-trained that the galloped along in a group despite not all having a rider. "Say hello to our transportation for the fun part of this journey, boys."

A few of the burly men hopped right up on the horses gracefully, with a lifetime of experience leaping through their blood. Some of the others, especially the more peripheral ones, seemed a little leery of the horses. Halvenport piped up, with the hot sun gleaming down on his golden forehead. "Heya, hooo-yeah!"

The horse followed his subtle gesture, making a natural partner. Halvenport looked like he grew up around horses.

With the guide leading the horses along the way, the group got going. Through rough rock canyons, the horses trotted together in unison. In the easy times, the group seemed to let go of some of their gripes, and they were having too much fun horsing around to bother arguing. The route went through winding walls carved out by water over the ages. The dry rock continued to come off the walls in bits and pieces.

Zhwoom! A fist-sized chunk of rock fell off the cliff, landing a few feet in front of the horses, frightening them. As the horses darted apart in different directions, the guide struggled to keep the cart rolling along.

In his funny voice, the heavy-set Portbrook said to Shanky: "Where are we going?"

"We're going to these coordinates," A weary Charlotte piped up even though the question was not directed at her. Beads of sweat were dripping down her face. She was flushed and looked entirely miserable. This weather really was not doing her any favors. "Here, take a look, if you'd like." She waved the paper, ready to hand it off to her companions.

As time continued on, the young woman found herself growing much weaker and more ill. Her eyelids grew unbearably heavy. There were periods of time where she slipped out of consciousness and her horse just continued to lumber on behind the other horses. This happened several time, long periods of her not knowing what was happening. She slowed her horse down and slipped back to the rear of the pack.

Eventually, she fully passed out. Every muscle in her body went limp. In the next instant, she slipped off the saddle into the dust. Her horse trained merely to follow continued along without a care in the world. As her body hit the ground, it roused her slightly. If it wasn't for her dry mouth, she would have cried out. As her eyelids grew heavy once more, ready to pull her into unwanted slumber, she could see the rest of her group turning the bend.

As the horses kept on, a tremor passed through the heart of Halvenport. He cast a glance up at the birds flying high, then looked ahead.

Meanwhile, Shanky spoke to Portbrook: "Look, this twerp's taking us up through the canyon. When we get there, we'll have to act fast. There may be a time when the crew are busy dining, and I'll give you this signal" -- and he tapped his nose and rubbed his forehead. "When that happens, you pay attention to me, and I promise you we'll come out of this well."

A few paces behind, another horse seemed to trip for a second, then caught its balance. The rider, Bridgefriar, had a long scar running down the length of his right arm, and wore a patch over one eye.

Bridgefriar approached Halvenport, and their horses rode in unison. "Son, how's you?"

"Huh?" asked Halvenport.

"How's you? I seen you had troubles."

"What troubles?" replied Halvenport, taken aback.

"Oh, you know. With Shanky. I seen how he's treating you."

"What's that to you?" asked Halvenport.

"It's a lot to me," replied Bridgefriar. "I happen to know for a fact what he's up to. Putting you on like that. Listen, son. That map's a fix-up. There is no treasure."

"What? No!"

"'Tis," said Bridgefriar. "I was there when that rapscallion and the lassy's delerious father cooked up the whole affair. A'course, the old man was none the wiser for it."

"Say what you want," contested Halvenport. "I shall go on, as I have sworn to do, and retrieve that treasure while safely ensuring the passage of Charlotte. Speaking of Charlotte, where is she?"

When her eyes finally opened again, Charlotte was greeted by a brown skinned, dark headed figure peered down at her. She tried to sit up a little but as she did, she was admonished in a foreign tongue by the woman bent over her. With the sudden noise coming from Charlotte, another like figure entered the 'room' she was in. He was dressed quite strangely in deerskin and buffalo hide. Natives. These were Native. It was all slowly pieced together for the young woman.

"We wish you no harm," The male figure spoke in broken English. "We wish you good health. That is why we have brought you here."

"Where is here?" Asked the fair skinned girl. "Where is my crew?"

"I am Chief Appanoose and this is the village of my people, the Sauk." He spoke with great pride and triumph in his voice. "As for your people, our hunters saw none, only you. We will help find them when your health is good once more." He turned to the woman, whose name was Kanti and spoke in their tongue, directing her to get their guest some food.

"What has brought you this way? Chief Appanoose asked, sitting down beside where Charlotte lay.

"I am looking for a long lost treasure. My father looked for it all his life and now it is my duty to continue on for him.

"A treasure, you say? Tell me more of this treasure. The Sauk have many tales of treasure."