72. The Eagle, the Sparrow and the Wind 

It was dark in the cave when Lilyah woke up. Merely a dim bluish shimmer of light grazed the rock cut wall opposite the entrance, a bit of which she could see from the corner in the side chamber where she lay. There was no sound of any birds outside, and even the sheep were unusually silent, except for an occasional, low bleat.

Lilyah turned her head again, smiling as she listened to the calm and deep breathing next to her. Adam was still sound asleep; he had slept like a stone all night, had not even stirred when she had joined him. But it was a good sleep, a recuperating one. His breathing was steady and regular, his skin touching hers beneath the blankets was warm and dry. Her fingers twitched as she caught herself in the last moment, forcing herself not to reach out for him, to resist the overwhelming urge to snuggle up closer to him. He needed his sleep so badly, his exhausted body needed it to reclaim all the strength he had lost. Pressing her cheek into the pillow, she regretted that it was too dark for her to see his face, no matter how much she strained her eyes. For a while she lay still, then she cautiously lifted her head. Yet the darkness also prevented her from seeing if he was still fully covered with the warm blankets. Maybe he had shuffled them off somewhere in his sleep. Even if it were only on a small patch of skin, it wouldn’t be good if the cold could creep to him.

Moving as slowly and cautiously as possible, Lilyah pushed herself to the edge of the bedstead, anxious to not wake him up as she slowly rose to her feet. She wouldn’t light the lantern, but one of the candles Esma had given her would come handy to spend at least a little light, little enough to not disturb his sleep.

“Tzshsh…” She inadvertently hissed as her bare foot stepped on a sharp little stone. Holding her breath, she waited for several moments in concerned silence. Thanks to Allah, Adam had not awakened.

Carefully tiptoeing to the other end of the chamber where the opening to the entrance was, she felt for the ledge along that wall which formed a natural shelf. She and Esma had sorted a lot of useful things onto that ledge, among them candles and matches. Unfortunately, also a couple of enamel tin mugs, both of which noisily clattered to the ground.

“Oh, d…” She swallowed the words and anxiously gazed towards the bedstead without being able to see anything there, before she bent to blindly search for the mugs. She only found one of them and put it back on the ledge, accidently toppling over some of the medicine bottles she had lined up there. While she was able to catch two of them, one fell down and shattered with a crash.

“Dr….” She bit her tongue and froze into a statue, barely daring to breathe. No sound was coming from the bedstead, Adam still seemed to be fast asleep. Esma sure had been right when she had assured her that not even a thunderstorm could awaken him. Letting out a breath of relief, Lilyah began groping for the candle and the box of matches. She finely located the matchbox, but, still unable to see what she was doing, she opened it upside down and all the matches fell out.

“Oh, m….” She picked one up and struck it against the rocky wall, dismayed at the loud rasping sound it produced. Holding it up, she cautiously looked over to the bedstead, finally being able to see at least its outline. Nothing moved there and she gladly turned to the ledge to look for a candle. Lamentably, she forgot to watch out as the match burned down.

“Ouch!” Dropping the match, she licked her burnt fingers, once again holding her breath and eyeing the bed. Luckily, Adam seemed to be deeply, deeply asleep. Slowly exhaling the held breath, she struck another match and finally found a candle, breathing a little sigh of relief when it was lit at last. She would leave it on the ledge where the mild draft from the entrance would suck out the smell of the wax.

Satisfied, she turned to the bedstead and cautiously took her first step, now able to see a little more. But while the candle provided a dim light, it wasn’t sufficient to illuminate the ground, and so she accidently kicked against the second mug she had not found before, causing it to clang across the ground. Biting down a curse, she picked it up to put it on the ledge, waiting with bated breath to see if Adam had awakened before she carefully sneaked towards the bed.

“Khshshs….” she hissed as she stepped on something sharp again. It probably was the same stone as before. Lilyah paused, rubbing the hurt sole of her foot against her ankle, gazing over to the bed on which nothing stirred. She did not dare to even make a quick movement. Only when she was sure that Adam was still asleep did she cautiously tiptoe back to the bed and lowered herself as slowly and as carefully as she could.

And shrieked in shock as an arm shot forth and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her down on the bed.

“Psssst!” Adam put a finger to his lips, his eyes glittering with laughter. “Shshsh.”

“Oh… oh… you!” She gasped, half a laugh of relief and half a sound of regret, looking up into his smirking face. “You’re awake…”

“And luckily so. I wouldn’t have wanted to miss that performance for anything.” He gave her a boyish grin and chuckled. “But in all honesty, my love, I don’t think you’d ever have much of a future in the burglary business.”

“Oh…” She finally realized that he must have watched her all the time, but her slightly perturbed features smoothed as he pulled her closer to his chest, caringly covering the blanket over her.

“Come here,” he murmured and kissed her forehead. “You must’ve gotten cold in your thin underdress.”

Lilyah happily snuggled into his arms, not without pulling the blanket over his bare shoulder. “You’re warm?” she asked in a low voice.

“I sure am.” His lips searched for hers and she responded to his tender kiss, her fingers lovingly stroking his cheek and temple.

“Hmm…” A deep, content purr came from his chest. “Don’t tell me I’m scratchy…”

“But you are…” She kissed his nose.

“Not badly, I hope…” he mumbled, returning the kisses.

“Very badly…” Her voice was as low as his.

“Should I get up and shave?”

She chuckled and pulled his head closer. “No…”

His kisses were so warm and tender they stirred a simmering yearning inside her, longing for more and even more closeness, for the wonderful oneness they first had found in their wedding night. Adam, however, did not seem to feel the same desire. His hand gently glided over her skin beneath the blanket, yet so gingerly that he barely touched her skin.

“Your hip must still hurt…” he murmured, his lips still caressing her face.

It was the last thing she wanted to be reminded of. Unable to deny the obvious, she preferred to remain silent.

Adam settled on his side, his hands lovingly fondling her shoulder, her hair, while his eyes thoughtfully wandered to the candle dimly flickering on the ledge, or rather to the rock cut walls it lighted.

“Remember how you once told me you’d rather live in a cave with me before you see me unhappy?” His voice was very low and deep. “Well, here we are!”

Lilyah lay still, wary of the dreaded subject that so often damped down his spirits, that so often filled his heart with painful self doubt, notions of shortcomings that only existed in his mind and yet were real enough to hurt him. And still – something in his voice was different, the velvet baritone was so soft and contented, there even was a hint of amused wonderment in his tone. She strained her eyes to study his face in the twilight. His brow was smooth and the ghost of a smile lingered around the corner of his mouth as he lowered his gaze to her.

“And I wonder how it all could have happened,” he continued, one finger tenderly following the lines of her face. “I mean, a young man meets a beautiful woman, falls in love with her and courts her, as it has happened thousands and thousands of times before – standard procedure, so to say. We could’ve taken walks along the lake, extended buggy rides across the Ponderosa, gone to a dance once in a while and spent the rest of our time playing cards.”

“Cards?” Her brow wrinkled in slight confusion. Still she loved the teasing tone in his voice, even more so as there was no trace of sarcasm. He definitely was far away from any bitterness.

“Cards!” he confirmed, a fine twinkle in his eyes. “Not poker or anything uncouth, mind you, rather those petty boring card games men and women will play when they have no idea what else to do with each other.”

“That sounds… not that much enticing…”

“Nope.” He pulled a funny face, mocking the expression of utmost critical thinking. “It would’ve been kinda hard to place Chai in the picture anyway. There’re also some problems in the dance department, not to mention the obligatory Sunday-after-church-dinner-invitation.” He tapped her nose with a finger. “That’s when the beautiful woman first invites the hopeful suitor to dinner after church in order to impress him with her cooking skills. We’ve really dodged a bullet there, my love.”

“Adam!” Her half-hearted protest melted in his cheeky laughter. She returned his kiss and lovingly touched his face, trying to read his mind. “Adam, what are you getting at?”

A thoughtful smile crossed his face as he caught her caressing hand, enclosing her fingers in his. It took awhile until he answered.

“Do you know that right now, I feel like I’m the happiest man in the world? The luckiest man that ever lived?” A soundless laugh came deep from his chest, almost as if he were bewildered by his own thoughts, discovering them in his insides much to his own surprise. “And when I look back at everything that happened ever since we first met, everthing that went… let’s say, somewhat awry or just plain wrong – I have a feeling it all happened for a reason, and a good reason at that. Even the worst bits…” He paused, contemplating his words. “I’ve found something along the way, Lil. Something I never even knew existed; but now that I know it’s there I wouldn’t want to live without it.”

Lilyah felt her eyes getting moist. “We both found something, Adam.”

“Yah.” He rubbed his forehead at hers before he placed a kiss on her nose. “There’s more, Lil. I feel… free. I truly feel like a free man – like I’m standing on the top of a mountain – literally – the whole world at my feet, free to go wherever I want.”

“Free to fly…” Lilyah smiled and closed her eyes, feeling the tears welling up between her eyelashes. She almost choked up as she began to whisper, “And the little sparrow flew up and laughed, flapping his tiny wings as fast as he could. Oh, he couldn’t keep up with the mighty eagle, and yet his cheerful chirps followed him all through the sky. ‘I told you so,’ he cried, ‘I told you so – didn’t I?‘”

Adam softly dabbed off a tear with his fingertip. “A fairy tale?”

She nodded her head, her heart too full to speak.

“Seems to be a rather sad one, judging from the sudden flood…” Adam bowed his head to kiss away the tears, his thumb softly stroking her cheek. “Will you tell it to me?”

“Yes…” Lilyah swallowed and wiped her eyes. “And it’s not a sad one, it has a happy ending. In fact, I loved it ever since I was a child.” She nestled closer against him, enjoying his hands warming and loving her. Gingerly running her fingers through the curly hair on his chest, she waited until he had rested his cheek against her forehead.

“Now do start,” he murmured. “I’m in the mood for a fairy tale right now.”

A little smile stole over her features. “It was once upon a time when there was a big beautiful eagle who had lived all his life in a cage…” She paused, suddenly anxious how he might react. His hands calmly continued their gentle wandering across her skin and she relaxed again. Adam always loved to listen to the old Arab fairy tales. This was just another one of them.

“Oh, it was a big cage, a beautiful one with golden bars, and the man who had put him there was a good man who had done him a kindness, for the eagle had fallen from his nest when he was still a tiny nestling and wouldn’t have survived on his own. The man loved him very much, always fed him lots of the choicest meats and read to him from the Qur’an five times a day…”

Adam chuckled. “Must’ve gotten somewhat tiring after a while…”

“Don’t mock!” She pulled on one of his chest hairs and giggled when he pinched her butt in return.

“Go on…” He kissed her hair.

Lilyah smiled as long forgotten images rose in her mind, the noises of the souk, the manifold scents of the market stalls, the chattering everywhere, the busy jumble – and the mysterious old storyteller who had spun this tale she had loved so much, had never forgotten about, which had come to life again so vividly during the last months. The beautiful eagle in his cage, encouraged to break free by a little sparrow… She smiled as she repeated the words so lively resounding in her mind.

“‘Oh, but I know you can fly,’ said the little sparrow and began flapping his wings, flying up and down…”

“You’re sure it was a sparrow and not a beautiful nightingale?” Adam’s voice was as soft as a purr.

“It was a sparrow.” She placed a tender kiss at his throat. “It’s important for the story.”

“Oh!” Adam nodded his head. “Pray proceed.”

“The eagle tried as he was told, but his big wings were not used to flying and they would not carry him into the air. Together, and with lots of hustle and bustle, they managed to open the door of the cage and they went to the garden, but while the sparrow flew from plant to plant, the eagle could only walk.

“‘Oh, this is a tragedy’, said the sparrow, who never had met a flightless eagle before and therefore didn’t know what to do. ‘I shall ask my good friend, the wind, for his advice.’

“And the sparrow flew high into the sky to meet the wind, while the eagle remained seated below, forlorn and sad. He didn’t believe the tiny sparrow could do much for him; and the wind was notorious for being nothing but a troublemaker, stirring up the sand and the dust and whirling about the leaves in the yard…”

“Hmm…” Adam cocked his head. “Now this is an unexpected view for a desert child who loves the wind so much that she hails it in songs and poems.” He chuckled. “But then again, there’s the interesting bit that you always call Chai a son of the wind… notorious indeed…”

“Oh, you!” Lilyah shifted to cuddle up even closer to him. “I sometimes think you’re too big for fairytales.”

“No, I’m not. Go on!” He kissed her head. “I wanna know how it ends.”

She rested her head on his upper arm, her fingers caressing his chest. “The wind listened to the little sparrow and pondered the problem for a while. Then he finally said to the sparrow, ‘Go tell your friend, the eagle, to meet me on the top of the highest mountain where we are closest to Allah, who is my father, and there I shall give him the secret of flight.’

“The sparrow happily flew back to the eagle and told him what the wind had said, but the eagle at first was reluctant and unwilling to climb up on the high mountain, for it was quite a daunting way if you couldn’t fly. But the sparrow insisted and kept on pestering the eagle because he believed with all his heart that once they would meet the wind there, his big friend would fly. And the eagle finally relented and so they went on their way…” She broke off as she heard him murmuring something she couldn’t make out. “What?”

“Nothing…” His hands rubbed her back. “Go on…”

Lilyah planted a kiss on his chest and continued, “But when they finally reached the top, the eagle was so exhausted from walking and climbing that he could barely stand, and even the sparrow was exhausted because he had never flown so high before…” Her voice trailed off as her fingers followed the scars on his chest. Somewhere inside, the storyteller’s voice sounded up again.

“It’s a long way to the end of the world, and the mountains are much higher than you’d ever know.It’s not as easy as you think it is, my precious, and many have failed trying to reach the unreachable.”

Lilyah’s hand glided to where Adam’s heart was beating. They had reached the unreachable, had fought and beaten the unbeatable, had won back what had already seemed lost. It hadn’t been easy, but they had prevailed. The proud eagle was free at last, he had spread his wings and no one would ever manage to put him back into a cage.

“Lil?” Adam’s fingertips felt the tears on her cheeks and he bent his head to kiss them away, murmuring softly, “What about the happy ending?”

She smiled through the tears. “The wind told the eagle that there would be nothing much to the art of flying – that all he had to do was to spread his wings and rise…”

His lips touched hers and she returned his little kiss before she nestled into his warm embrace again and continued, “The eagle got very upset, because this was what he had tried before and it hadn’t worked. He also became very sad, because he suddenly thought all hope was lost and he could never live like a real eagle at all.

“‘What is an eagle worth that cannot fly?’ he cried in pain. ‘I might as well end it all and throw myself from this rock to my death!’ And he plunged himself into the deep, deep abyss.”

“Aw…” Adam shifted his position again to look at her face, his fingers brushing back some strands of her hair. “That must have been the moment that terrified you as a child.”

“Oh, yes, it was.” She lifted her face to him and smiled. “But this isn’t the end. For as the eagle fell like a stone, the wind suddenly came with a whoooosh and swept under his wings, and he carried him high into the sky. And when the eagle fully opened his wings, he realized that he could fly, for all he ever had needed was the wind under his wings. And the images from his dreams that he had thought to be nothing but a mirage suddenly were real and true, reaching out to him and embracing him in their beauty.”

Adam smiled and kissed her forehead. “And the little sparrow said, ‘I told you so.’”

“Yes…” She placed a small kiss on his nose. “And the little sparrow flew up and laughed, flapping his tiny wings as fast as he could. ‘I told you so,’ he cried, ‘I told you so – didn’t I?’”

Adam’s hands glided over her body. “What a lucky eagle this was – having found such a precious little friend.” His eyes softened and his voice was very tender. “For I don’t believe the eagle would have made it through the plight of that harrowing way, had he been all alone. Luckily for him, he wasn’t.”

Lilyah felt her heart warming. “I think the little sparrow was lucky to have found the eagle. Think of how proud he must have been watching this big, beautiful eagle fly…”

“Hmm.” Adam pulled her closer to himself. “There’s something missing, though – the happily ever after! No fairy tale without one.”

“The flying eagle was the happily ever after – for he could fly from then on forever, and all his dreams had come true.”

“Hm, no.” Adam shook his head. “It goes more like this: The little sparrow turned into the most beautiful nightingale and the eagle was so love struck that they married on the spot and lived happily ever after. The good man with the cage and the Qur’an threw a temper tantrum, but later calmed down after he received some more variety in books and eventually the first grand-egg to fuss over. And lastly, the wind gave a solemn promise to have a word with his son not to be that much of a troublemaker anymore.”

Lilyah started laughing and flung her arms around him. “Well, that’s not quite like the tale was told… but I like the changes.”

“I have a feeling that this was how the legend really went.” His warm hands glided up and down her back. “Lil, of all the fairy tales you’ve told me, this one is the most beautiful.”

“I’m glad you liked it…” She nestled even closer to him, but couldn’t prevent a small hiss as she strained her sore hip. As tiny as the sound had been, Adam’s hands immediately lay still.

“Let me look at this.” He sat up.

“Oh, no!” Lilyah pouted as he climbed over her and got up. “Adam, it’s nothing.”

“Getting kicked by a horse is hardly nothing. I should’ve looked at it yesterday.” Adam went to the ledge and lighted the lamp. “Besides, dawn’s breaking, time to rise anyway.”

Lilyah sighed and sat up herself. The stripe of light at the wall opposite the cave’s entry was visibly brighter than before, the earliest birds outside were already singing their songs and more and more sheep could be heard. And still… she would have so preferred to stay in the warm bed a little longer, so wonderfully sheltered in his warm and tender embrace, enjoying his kisses, his love. There was so much yet to explore…

“Let me see!” Adam placed the lamp beside her and dropped on one knee, pushing up the seam of her underdress. The sight of her left hip and thigh caused him to hiss. “Oh, Lil… now that looks bad!”

She pressed her lips together, more unhappy about the massive black and blue stains than suffering from any great pain. They certainly didn’t add to her idea of womanly beauty. “It’s just bruised…”

“Yes…” His hand carefully moved over the discolored skin. “Nothing is broken, thank God. Seems to me I’ll have to have a serious word with a certain son of the wind.”

“Oh, it wasn’t Chai’s fault! It was an accident!”

“Of course.” He placed a little kiss on her knee before he pulled down the seam of the dress. “I’m afraid there’s not much you can do about it except wait until it gets better. Give it some rest and try not to get bumped there. Take it easy for a while, will you?”

She brushed over his hair. “Adam, don’t worry so much.”

“Now look who’s talking!” Adam caught her hand and kissed it. “Gotta go now. I don’t know how long my father will take to figure out where we went, but we’d better be prepared.”

Lilyah sighed again as she watched him quickly leaving the cave, her eyes wandered to the flickering flame on the ledge. A small part of her still longed for the warm togetherness that had turned the chamber into a wonderful, cozy shelter which seemed so hard to leave, with the conversation between them still lingering in the soft candlelight. Especially his words echoed in her heart, and she cherished every one of them, contemplating what they meant. There were no more shadows, he was and he felt like a free man. With a little happy gasp she sprang to her feet and grabbed for an overdress, suddenly very much in a hurry to follow him.

* * *

“This is the only way they could come up.” Adam pointed to a clearing in the woods surrounding half the promontory and looked from one to another. The whole little group, including Titus, the dog, had followed him to the bulwark of rocks parting the grassy fields from the pines. “So that’s the spot we should keep an eye on.”

“But we came from there!” Pico indicated the other end of the meadow. “They could, too!”

“Not on horseback, and they surely won’t clamber up here on foot like we did.” Adam smiled. “No, they’ll come this way, and that’s our advantage.” He gestured to the spot where the rocks only left a few gaps wide enough to pass through with any ease. “They’ll also have to come uphill, and one man can defend the entry here. They might try it further to the western slope, but they would still have to pass this spot and the pinewood over there falls down so steeply that their horses would have trouble finding a footing. This place is extremely hard to attack – as my family and I had to discover before.”

“When those prospectors were here?” Lilyah restlessly clasped her hands. She didn’t want to think of the upcoming confrontation. Why couldn’t Ben Cartwright simply leave them alone? It was not like he had any use for the promontory.

“Yes.” A trace of pity stole over Adam’s face as he regarded her unhappy little figure. He could read her thoughts from the tip of her nose.

“But you got them out eventually, didn’t you?” Esma squinted across the rocks. “How?”

“We overran the place,” Adam answered. “It was my idea, actually, after we’d piled up half a dozen of failed attempts to even get here. We finally summoned every hand available and stormed the promontory with vastly superior numbers. They couldn’t shoot as fast as we came at them.”

“Hmm…” The old woman pursed her lips. “That could happen again, couldn’t it?”

Adam drew a breath and crossed his arms, pinching the bridge of his nose. She had a point there, and the thought didn’t sit well with him. “I don’t know… it was a gargantuan charge of epic proportions – we came up here with more than 60 men. A terrible crowd all the way up, everybody getting in everybody’s way, with hardly enough space for the horses. Besides, my father wasn’t at all fond of the idea, I really had to press it and he only agreed reluctantly since nothing else had worked. He’s probably long forgotten about it.”

“But it did work?” Esma cocked her head.

Adam flashed an uncomfortable smile. “I don’t think they’d go to any such lengths. Back then, it went against those prospectors – land thieves who polluted our water reservoirs with their mining. This time, it’s only against me.”

“And us,” Esma added solemnly. “I wonder just how determined he might be to have his way and get us out of here. Ah, enough of that!” A grin lit her weathered features. “We can worry about it when it’s here to worry. Back to work!”

“That’s the word!” Adam felt almost relieved and smirked as his gaze fell on the boy. “And now that we’ve cleared out the cabin we might finally explore the remaining caves for any material we can use. There might be some good stuff left, we just threw everything in there that time.”

Pico literally jumped with excitement. “Oh yeah!”

“I’ll take care of the horses; they all could do with a good grooming.” Lilyah’s gaze wandered to the pasture where all four horses were peacefully grazing amidst the sheep. Contented bleats lingered over the meadow, pierced by the light ‘baahs’ of the lambs as they chased each other in play.

“Fine, but leave the hooves alone.” Adam gently touched her hip. “I’ll clean them out later. You shouldn’t put any weight on your thighs.”

“Alright.” Lilyah smiled as he brushed a kiss on her cheek and then hurried off to the caves, a bubbly Pico in tow. Of course he wouldn’t even think of going easy on himself. He had started to clear the rubble out of the cabin while still chewing on his last mouthful of breakfast, likely had a new roof for the cabin already planned out in his head and he wouldn’t consider resting until everything that could be done had been done. Lilyah sighed and chuckled, torn between worry that he might overexert himself and joy to see him so energetic again. She knew so well that he enjoyed working, putting his hands to use, and it would probably keep his mind from churning over the unsolved problems with his father. Lilyah bit her lip and her smile lost itself. Even with all his shadows gone, that conflict weighed heavily on his heart.

“Tell me, child…” Esma had approached her. “What shall we do with all the meat?”

Ruby opened her mouth, but Esma quickly motioned her to be quiet.

“Meat? Oh…” Lilyah took a moment to turn her mind to the question. “We could roast it.”

“But we’ve got far too much meat from all the animals they shot. Roasted meat would only last a couple of days and we could never eat that much.”

“That’s true…” Lilyah wrinkled her brow, but then her face lit up. “We could dry it!”

“We surely could do that with some of it.” Esma nodded her head. “But wouldn’t it be a shame to get nothing but dry old jerky from all the good meat? You can’t feed your husband with nothing but jerky.” A small smirk appeared on her lips. “Fortunately, we’ve got coarse salt, some saltpeter, some potash and some saleratus. Now what could we do with that?”

Lilyah had question-marks written all over her face. “Salt…peter?” She gulped. “We certainly cannot eat that…”

Esma laughed. “But it can be put to good use, especially when one has a husband who loves good bacon or a fine smoked ham. Now, Lilly, what would he say if you could make such a ham for him, particularly when making good ham is an art and he likely won’t have eaten a better one before?”

“Oh…” Lilyah’s eyes began to shine at a very enticing image rising in her mind. “Oh… would it be ready for dinner?”

Ruby burst out laughing, hastily pressing her hands against her mouth. “Sorry… didn’t mean to…”

Esma chuckled and put her hand on Lilyah’s shoulder. “It takes a week or two at least to make a good ham. As I said, it’s an art and it needs some work and patience. A good housewife must learn to think ahead, particularly with meat since when it comes in, it usually comes in a surplus. We’ll start preparing the best hams for smoking today, and we’ll pickle, cook and roast the rest. I’ll show you how.”

Lilyah looked from grandmother to granddaughter. “When do we start?”

“After you’ve groomed the horses,” Esma replied. “For the time being I clean up the cabin and sort through some of our things.”

“I’ll help you with the horses,” Ruby offered.

“Fine!” Lilyah started to walk, but turned on her heels. “Esma, don’t tell Adam about the ham. He… he always laughs at me cooking… I mean…”

“Don’t worry, child, we’ll get that out of him.” A deep laugh came from Esma’s bosom. “And until then, my lips are sealed!”

* * *

“Pico, don’t touch those!” Adam hastened to keep the curious boy’s fingers from two small tin canisters. “That’s mercury – it’s deadly poisonous stuff.”

“Grandma sure could use the canisters, for oil or something.”

“Not these, they’re good for nothing.” Adam carried the canisters into the farthest corner of the adit, the same adit in which he and his brothers had deposited all the prospectors’ stuff years ago. “And they’re out of boundary, you hear?”

“Alright.” Pico had already directed his attention to a couple of small wooden barrels, his fingers scratching at the hardened stuff they contained. “Do you think we can get it out without destroying the barrels? Grandma could use them for pickling meat.”

“Not sure about it.” Adam squatted next to the boy and knocked against the hard surface of black powder that had gotten wet and caked to a chunk before it had dried to be hard as stone. “Maybe it’s only the upper layer and beneath it there’s still loose powder. Anyway, it’s hardly worth the effort – there are enough empty barrels in here that your grandmother can use.”

“Grandma can never have enough barrels, especially now that we’ve had to leave most of ours behind with the wagon.” Pico cocked his head and regarded him with a sidelong glance. “Your family must be terribly rich.”

The remark caught Adam by surprise. “What makes you think so?”

“Lots of things. The way you are.” The boy nodded to himself. “Like you told me that you and your brothers were here and you just left all those wonderful things behind in here. Normal people would have carried it all off and taken it home.”

“Ah…” Adam glanced around the small cave. A bunch of mostly empty barrels, a heap of empty whisky bottles and other garbage, some rusty tools and the planks from the dismantled sluices.

“And look at all those empty bottles!” Pico’s finger shot forward to the heap of bottles in the corner. “There are at least twenty of them, maybe even thirty! You could’ve sold them to the stupid for a dollar a piece.”

Adam laughed. “Now certainly no one is stupid enough to give you a dollar for an empty bottle.”

“You’re not selling them empty, silly!” Pico gave him a look that clearly indicated he needed to have the most obvious things explained to him. “You fill them with water, add a little whisky and tell folks it’s good medicine. Grandma sometimes puts some herbs in and some syrup for the looks and the taste, but that’s not really necessary. The stupid buy them anyway.” He proudly raised his chin. “Grandpa taught me all about it!”

Adam sat flabbergasted, trying hard not to laugh while at the same time churning through his mind for anything morally educational he could say without tarnishing the glorified memory of the late beloved grandfather. And somewhere deep inside, he suddenly had a vision of Little Joe selling dubious medicine bottles at the road to Virginia City, likely after having roped in poor Hoss to carry the crates. That made it even harder for him to suppress his laughter.

“Do you think we can make it good again?” Pico focused on the powder kegs again, using a long, crooked nail to scratch and hammer the hard surface of the contents. “We’ve got a neat grindstone and could grind it to powder once again.”

“It depends.”

“On what?”

“On how wet it had become when it caked.” Adam smiled at the boy’s eagerness. “If it had only gotten a little damp, it might work, but if it had gotten soaked, the potassium nitrate would have been washed out.” He regarded the questioning look on Pico’s face. “Do you know what black powder is made of?”

The boy shook his head.

“It’s a mixture of charcoal, sulfur and potassium nitrate – that is saltpeter,” Adam explained. “Charcoal and sulphur can get wet and be dried again with no problem, but potassium nitrate will dissolve in water and be gone with it when it dries out. And without it, the powder won’t explode.”

Pico threw a doubting look into the small barrel.

“And besides,” Adam continued, “that stuff is real hard. It might ruin your grindstone.”

“Ouch…” Pico pulled a face. “That won’t be good. Grandma would kill me.”

Adam laughed and rose to his feet. “Now come on, little buddy, we’ve got a roof to fix. You help me with those planks?”

“But of course!” The boy jumped up. “Can I hammer in the nails?”

“Sure – if we find enough straight ones, that is.”

“Oh, we sure will and if need be, Grandma should have some more!” Pico busily began piling the planks together. “We’ll get the roof ready in no time.”

“We’ll still need some brushwood. The planks alone won’t be enough.”

“We’ll gather it together, will we?”

“We will. Hey, that’s enough – I can’t carry that much!” Adam bit down a grin as he picked up his end of the planks and watched Pico laboring with his. One more plank and the boy would’ve been at the end of his rope.

And while Pico’s chatter trickled into his ears, his mind wandered to the heap of empty bottles. Maybe they could be put to an even better use than being sold to the stupid for a dollar a piece.

* * *