The Iron Dragon by Bonnie Pryor

Author:Bonnie Pryor [Pryor, Bonnie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-4645-0151-7
Publisher: Enslow Publishers, Inc.
Published: 2011-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

chapter ten

Avalanche!

I was too excited from my adventure to sleep that night. I lay awake, listening to the snores of the other men and thinking about Mr. McGee’s offer. All this time I had been yearning to return home, and yet, if I did, I would become a farmer like my father and brothers. Yet how could I defy my father and stay? Was Huang Chow right? Was I forgetting the old ways? I had not decided when I fell into an uneasy sleep.

It was snowing when I stepped out of the tent the next morning, and it was bitterly cold. I was grateful that Zhang Wei had insisted I spend part of my savings on a padded jacket and trousers. At first I was delighted with the snow, although the other men grumbled. On the way to work for Bossman, I stuck out my tongue and let the snowflakes melt on my tongue. But the snow kept on falling without stopping for the next three days. When it finally did stop, there was nearly three feet of snow on the ground. I could hardly make it to my jobs each day. Although part of the crew was put to work shoveling, it was a powdery snow that drifted right back with the wind.

Zhang Wei offered me some snowshoes, but the snow was too soft even for them. In spite of the snow, the work went on. Mr. Strobridge was anxious to get the end of the track to Cisco, a town that lay 5,900 feet high and only a few miles from the summit. A lot of crews were already working at the summit and reports of injuries and frostbite were growing.

“I have something for you, Lee Chin,” Bossman said one day. He showed me a pair of long, flat sticks. In the middle was a strap and the end curved up. “The Norwegian people use these. They are called skis. The mail carriers use them to bring mail across the mountains. Men tell me they can cover forty miles a day with these.”

“This is too fine a gift, Bossman. I can’t take them.”

Bossman threw up his hands. “There is that stubborn Chinese pride. All right, they are mine. But you can use them anytime you want.”

“Thank you, Honorable Bossman,” I said. “May you be blessed with a hundred sons.”

“Whoa, boy. I don’t think a hundred sons would be much of a blessing. At any rate, I’m not even married.”

I looked at him in surprise. “You do not yet have a wife? Did your parents not find anyone suitable?”

Bossman laughed. “In this country we find our own wives. We court them. Take them for walks, have dinner at their house, go to church with them. Then, if we want to get married, we ask her father’s permission. But the girl has already said yes, and talked to her father.”

“In my country the parents arrange such matters. My parents will soon be looking for me. They will look for a girl who will be helpful to my mother and yet can work in the fields if needed.

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