Katie and the Mustang, Book 4 by Kathleen Duey

Author:Kathleen Duey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group

CHAPTER SEVEN

The rocks here are sharp, and the oxen go even slower than

before. The little one and I sometimes run a little

and I am grateful. In the cool of the mornings, I long

to gallop, but I know the little one could not keep

up. I heard a stallion and scented his mares. There are

horses here that do not walk with two-leggeds.

Not long after that we came upon the Snake River. It was so beautiful to see water in the middle of that strange and broken countryside, the river curving in a long sinuous path across the broken, rocky land. Its surface was smooth as a gray-green looking glass on the cloudy day when we came over a rise and saw it below us.

The river was some distance from the trail at first, then the wagon tracks led us closer to the banks. The river had worn away the soil to form steep-sided bluffs. We saw many strange sights as we went. There was one stretch of bluffs on the far side of the river that spouted roaring springs that flumed enormous waterfalls straight out into the air, splashing downward to fall into the river below. It was as if an underground river ended there, joining one that ran aboveground.

One fine morning, as it was just barely beginning to turn light, we all heard splashing in the water. We stopped our morning chores and turned to look. In the dusk we could just make out blurred silver arcs—fish were jumping!

Andrew and two of his brothers rigged up netting, using twine from the Taylors’ goods. By mid-morning, they had soaked themselves and caused their wives hours of worry, but they had caught ten of the magnificent fish.

“Salmon!” Mr. Kyler said happily when he saw them. “I’ve heard about this kind of fish.”

No one even suggested traveling on until the fish were cooked and eaten. It was heaven, after all the months of beans and bacon, to eat the delicate, pink fish meat.

Mr. Taylor and Mr. Heldon made hooks from old wire corset stays that Mrs. Kyler gave them.

They used twine for line and baited the hooks with chunks of bacon. The salmon didn’t seem to be as tired of it as we were, because they took the bait and were pulled in, hand over hand, to the rocky banks. This was much easier than stringing nets, and all the men endeavored to make hooks and lines.

We ate salmon whenever we could, and it was delicious every time. The bacon we carried had been half-rancid for weeks in spite of being salted until it was nearly intolerable and stung our mouths.

But even though we got a welcome change in our meals, our stock did not. One night after supper, Miss Liddy pulled me aside. She looked sad.

“I want to stop the lessons for a while.”

I felt my heart sinking, but I knew why. “We shouldn’t work Genevieve at all, probably,” I said aloud.

Miss Liddy nodded unhappily. “She’s losing flesh. They all are. This cursed

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