the way down to my remaining saddle packs. It was another hour and a half before we finally reached the summit again. By this time, in the cold harsh wind, the rain was changing to snow, then back to rain, then back to snow again. Gus had found a dry place, under a fallen log not far from the mules, I shouted to him to join me as I led Blaze back into the pass. But he was too smart… he was going to stay dry under the log.
By now it was starting to get dark. With no chance of moving on until morning, we would have to spend the night here. Unpacking Blaze, I hobbled and tied him to the rope. Surveying the camp site I spotted an opening that looked like a cave or perhaps some type of animal den. It was a large fissure deep in the crevasse of two boulders. Not wanting to find a sleeping bear or other wild animal inside, I removed a candle from one of the trail bags. Returning to the opening, I lit the candle by protecting the flame with my back to the wind. With my pistol in one hand and a candle in the other, I slowly crept inside the cave. It was eerie with the candlelight dancing off the inside rock walls. It took my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the dim light, but, as they did, the cave looked empty. It was small, about 25 feet deep and 15 feet wide, with a ceiling at the highest point of about 10 feet. There were some signs on the dirt floor that a bear and other animals had used the cave in the past, but they seemed to be long gone now.
Finding some dry wood and twigs at the rear of the cave I soon had a small fire going near the opening. Going back outside with Gus watching from his protected area, I carried all the trail bags, saddles, my bedroll, knapsack and saddlebags into the cave. My legs and arms were soaked to the bone. My boots had about an inch of mud all over, making them as heavy as iron bricks. But before I could rest and dry off, I would have to care for my animals. Soon I found the trail bag with the oats and feedbag. Before leaving the cave again, I made some coffee, placing the pot close to the little fire to brew. Then, filling the bag half full of feed, I took it out and slipped it over Blaze’s head. The rain and snow mixture had now changed to a heavy snow with big, wet, white flakes. The animals had no grass for grazing and no water to drink. Returning to the cave, I motioned and called for Gus to join me inside. He looked at me but still didn't make a move from his dry spot under the dead tree.
From the trail bags, I took out three thick pieces of beef jerky, two for me and one for Gus. Leaving the cave again, I retrieved the feedbag from Blaze and gave each mule a smaller, quarter full, helping of oats. On my final trip I threw the piece of jerky under the tree where Gus was. At first he just sniffed it, not knowing for sure what it was. After a few more sniffs he ate it with one gulp. Returning for the last time with the bag full of all the remaining water I had, I let the animals drink their share. As I stood there in the dark, waiting for each to drink, I could hear cries of wolves over the howling wind. Chills ran down my spine. The old trapper had told me how bold the wolves were up in these mountains. Finally, with the animals as secured as I could make them, I returned to the warmth of the cave and tried to dry out my clothes and clean my boots.
As I ate some warmed up beans from a can and drank hot coffee, the sounds of the wolves seemed to be getting closer. Beginning to worry about my animals I knew that I couldn’t just sit there in the relative warmth and safety of the cave without watching out for trouble. It had been an exhausting day, but if I lost my animals, I would be much more than exhausted, I could be dead. Throwing more sticks and branches on the fire, I unrolled my sleeping bag at the cave’s opening. Spreading out on my bag I had a view of the animals and could see some of the approaches to the trail. Putting on my wool coat and stocking cap, I wrapped a blanket around myself. With my back resting against a rock, I faced the night and my animals. My rifle was on top of the blanket, propped between my legs. The swirling wind was whistling through the pass and sometimes blew the snow on my face and coat. Straining my eyes to see the animals in the dark and blowing snow, I could still hear the cries of the wolves over the wind. Half of me was warm from the heat in the cave, the other half cold from the wind and snow. My nerves frazzled; I was dead tired, yet alert; hungry, yet fed; not alone, but lonely; cold, yet warm. It was going to be the longest and most miserable night of my life and I had to struggle to stay awake. Soon the snow turned to smaller flakes and I was sure we would have inches if not feet of snow on the ground the next morning. Drinking the last of the hot coffee, holding the warm tin cup in my cold hands, my mind began to wonder: Was this as cold and lonely as I had ever been? Maybe by weather conditions and place, but not as cold and lonely as I had felt growing up with Grandfather at Fairview.
Ghosts
Fairview Manor... I wonder why Grandmother gave that name to that house? From my earliest recollection, I couldn't remember any fair views. What I did remember was that house surrounded with other, more modern homes set on large parcels of land with tall trees framing long driveways. From what Uncle Roy had told me, it was Grandmother who had insisted that Senior build the house around the turn of the century. In its day, I’m sure that it was a fine, modern home. I understand that the original parcel of land was 35 acres, but that over the years, after Grandmother died, Senior sold all but five acres. The house was large, with three levels in the main house and an old wooden barn in the rear. The home was one of the first in the area to have electricity. It had four full bathrooms, or water closets, one on the top floor (the servant’s quarters), two on the second floor, and one on the main floor. There was a large steam heating system in the basement that worked as hard as it could to keep the drafty house warm in the winter. The kitchen had state of the art appliances—as of 1905. For its day, this made Fairview very modern. But after it had been built, with the exception of a few coats of paint and basic maintenance, the house had never been changed or modernized.
It was at Fairview that Grandmother raised my father and, after his death, tried to raise me. I remember her as being a big, warm, loving lady who always wanted to do things for me. Between Grandmother and our cook and housekeeper, Hazel, the house was full of laughter, good smells, warmth and love. After the devastating death of my Grandmother, a black cloud seemed to hang over the old house. Years after her death, I was still playing a game where I would walk the halls of the second floor, opening doors to the bedrooms and pretending that there in the empty rooms were my mother and father having tea with Grandmother. They would always invite me in and talk to me.
“Oh, Dutch, what have you been doing today? Dutch, sit here and have some tea. How is school going? Dutch, we love you so much, please come back and see us again.”
Then, more likely than not, a draft would fill the room and slam the bedroom door shut, which would startle me back to reality. They were all dead.
At first Grandfather tried to spend time with me, but it was hard for him because he was so busy. With schoolwork or a book in hand, I’d knock on the den door and ask for help on a project or even just a question about life. He would always give me the answer but never tell me why it was the right answer. If I pressed him, he’d lose his patience and say he was busy and would tell me more later, but later never came. During the holidays, Hazel and Uncle Roy tried to make them special. Although, I can't remember ever seeing Grandfather happy or laughing during these times. He would always escape into his den after spending as little time as possible with Roy and me. Roy always defended Grandfather by reminding me how much responsibility he had to the thousands of employees of Gold Coast Petroleum. But I’d always ask myself, What about me? Grandfather never had friends or business associates over for dinner, drinks, or any kind of get-together. Fairview had become just a place for him to eat, sleep and do business when he was away from the office.
For the first part of my education I went to public schools. It was here that I made a few friends and, most importantly, learned to play baseball. It was a game that I enjoyed, and the coaches told me I had some talent. Hitting the ball a mile, I could run and play all bases with ease. Getting better with each passing year of grade school, I kept learning and improving my skills for the game.
But my grades were only fair
