Brothers of the Rogue

Brothers of the Rogue

__________

A novel by Al Green

The Brothers of the Rogue

Copyright © 2016 by Al Green

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.

Front cover by: Bonnie Mutchler

Back cover photo: Susan McInnis

Printed in USA by Smashwords .com

Dedication

To my wife, children, and grandchildren, Kathleen and Bill Kopp, Susan Jill McGowan and my other cousins, my parents, grandparents, great grandparents and my great, great grandfather Moses Emerson Folsom and his lovely wife Elizabeth Jane Warnock. I also owe Rachel Rolfe Feighny, a great granddaughter of Presley Warnock and Rachel Frame, for the stories she passed on to my grandfather John Allen Folsom.

Table of Contents

Preface

Chapter 1 1849

Chapter 2 1850

Chapter 3 June 3, 1850

Chapter 4 August 1850

Chapter 5 Spring 1851

Chapter 6 1851

Chapter 7 1852

Chapter 8 November, 1852

Chapter 9 Easter Sunday, 1853

Chapter10 May, 1853

Chapter11 June 1853

Chapter12 July 1853

Chapter13 August, 1853

Chapter 14 1853

Chapter 15 September, 1853

Chapter 16 October, 1853

Chapter 17 - 1854

Chapter 18 - 1854

Chapter 19 - April, 1855

Chapter 20 - May,1855

Chapter 21 - October, 1855

Chapter 22 - October 1855

Epilogue

Glossary

About the Author

Other Books By Al Green

Preface

In 1849 brothers John and Moses Folsom ran into one another on the streets of Yerba Buena in the California Territory. They had left the family farm in Maine separately for a life of adventure on the high seas. Word of the gold strike in California brought them together.

The brothers worked their way north to the Jacksonville, Oregon area, where they were asked to leave on foot during the Rogue River Wars.

The Warnock family had gone through a series of tragedies and decided to take advantage of the new Donation Land Act and relocate to the rich Willamette Valley in Oregon. In addition to Presley Warnock and his son William, four daughters accompanied him west. They were Margaret, Elizabeth, Drucilla, and Mary Francis. They traversed the Oregon trail in 1853, and after many hardships arrived in Oregon City on September 25 of that year.

General Joseph Lane, a pro slavery Democrat, and sometime Governor of Oregon had political ambitions aimed at the Presidency. He planned to use military success against the west coast tribes to fuel his popularity and fame.

Indians residing in the Rogue River area had lived in a virtual paradise for generations. The prolific salmon runs provided them with a great source of protein, and acorns, berries, and camas rounded out their simple diet. The discovery of gold on the banks of their beloved streams brought the white and red cultures into conflict over this natural treasure trove.

Chapter One 1849

Yerba Buena (San Francisco) California Territory

Moses Folsom took a deep breath of salty air before he disembarked from the vessel that had been his home for the past month. He had been in Lima, Peru when word of the gold strike in the California Territory reached his ears, and had immediately signed on as a carpenter with the first clipper ship heading north.

The wharf in front of him was a sea of humanity as other gold seekers disembarked from several vessels crowding the bay. The pier faced a line of buildings, behind which towered a steep hillside. The lower hillside was covered by a tent village, scattered between stumps. Above the tent line loggers were busily falling trees and transporting them down a skid road for processing.

Hoisting his duffel bag to his shoulder he stepped into the noisy throng crowding the dock, and walked quickly toward the buildings in uncertain hopes of securing lodging.

'A new adventure starts', he thought to himself.

A heavily laden man was walking in front of him as he propelled his way through the multitude crowding the docks. A loud noise to his right momentarily distracted Moses. The man proceeding him stopped walking. Moses didn't notice and crashed into the man knocking him to his knees.

Moses bent down to help him up and found himself facing the wrong end of a pistol.

Your not going to Shanghai me you varmint! yelled the man.

Moses' eyes grew wide as they focused the barrel of the gun. He stepped back and raised his hands in submission, one still clutching his own duffel bag.

I'm sorry sir. I was distracted by all these people. I...I didn't mean any offense.

The prostrate man grumbled as he struggled to his feet. Moses might have laughed at his effort if the business end of the pistol still pointed menacingly at his chest, didn't hold his full attention. The man had two obviously heavy bags hanging from his neck in addition to his large backpack, which made standing difficult. A duffel bag lay on the ground at his feet.

I hope you don't accidentally shoot me while you try to stand. Why don't you let me help you up? He carefully set down his own duffel bag and offered his hand.

The man lowered the muzzle, and slowly released the hammer with his thumb. I guess you aren't a headhunter. He offered his free hand to Moses who then helped him to his feet.

For the first time Moses looked at the mans face. His attention had been focused on the steel death pointed in his direction. The man had a scruffy beard and was about his own height, with brown hair and eyes. The mans' forearms were rippled with muscle.

You can't be too careful, said the bearded stranger. Crews are deserting these ships for the gold fields. Half the ships in the harbor are abandoned. I can't blame the crewmen, I'm doing the same thing. He winked at Moses. "So are you from the look of it.

Moses smiled guiltily.

On the other side of the coin continued the stranger, the captains are desperate to man their vessels and won't think twice about kidnapping an experienced crewman or two right off the docks when it's time to sail.

You sound like you've been around, said Moses.

I've spent the last eight years in a whaling fleet in the south seas, the man answered. I came across a crew from a British trade ship in a bar. They told me about the gold strike here abouts. I decided to try my hand, so I took a job on the next vessel heading this way. What about you?

Pretty much the same. I was a in the crew of a merchantman docked in Lima when news of a gold strike in the unpopulated west coast hit the city. I thought I'd be among the first to get here.

Both men looked around and laughed.

The last time I was here there weren't more than two hundred white men in the whole area, there must be that many within earshot now, offered the stranger.

The funny thing is, said Moses in agreement, as hard as it is to believe, we are probably just the first little wave of a flood that will invade the country soon. My name's Moses by the way, he said realizing they hadn't introduced themselves.

Folsom, replied the other man.

Moses stepped back, suddenly wary. How do you know my name?

Cause you just told me? answered the other man uncertainly.

No, I only told you my first name. How did you know my last name?

What? Do you mean Folsom? asked the stranger giving Moses a quizzical look.

A huge grin suddenly erupted on the man's surly face. Are you telling me that you're named Moses Folsom?

What's it to yah'? Moses answered defiantly.

You wouldn't be from East Corinth Maine would you? the man inquired.

Who are you, and how do you know so darned much about me? asked an increasingly flustered Moses.

The name's John, answered the stranger, his eyes sparkling, John Folsom.

Recognition slowly spread across Moses' face. John Edward?' he asked hesitantly. John Edward!" he repeated happily as he realized that the bearded stranger standing before him was his older brother.

The two men hugged awkwardly, Johns' bags keeping them apart.

I can't believe that we bumped into one another like this! laughed John.

What are the chances? agreed an equally happy Moses.

John looked around. Let me get rid of this wheat. Its worth its weight in gold back in Hawaii, he said indicating the bags hanging from his shoulders, Then we can go somewhere to catch up properly.

John led the way to a large warehouse fronting the docks. This used to be the Hudson Bay Company warehouse the last time I was in Yerba Buena, said John indicating the wooden building in front of them. It looks like it's under new management.

It's a new town too brother, corrected Moses, "its been renamed San Francisco.

When did that happen? asked John as they entered the building.

Just recently, I heard about the name change in Lima the same time I heard about the gold strike, answered Moses. The ship I was working traded along the Peruvian coast." They walked up a man standing behind a counter.

What do you have in the bags? asked the man.

Wheat, answered John proudly, two forty pound bags straight from the south Pacific. What will you give me for them?

He pulled the bags from his shoulders and set them in front of the merchant.

The man opened one of the bags and chuckled. I'll give you five cents.

Five cents a pound, are you crazy? This town is full of miners who would pay dearly for flour.

First of all, this ain't flour, it's raw wheat. I don't have a mill. I'd need to have a Chinaman grind it by hand. I'll probably just feed it to the pigs. Pork sells for a high price these days. Secondly, I meant five cents for both bags.

John's mouth dropped. Five cents, the bags themselves cost me that much.

Take it or leave it, said the man. You came to me.

I'll leave it then! he said angrily. He started to lift the heavy bags, then hesitated. Fine, I'll take it. I can't see lugging these around anymore if they're worthless. On the islands wheat is really valuable. I guess I've been out to sea too long he said chagrined.

Do you know where we can get a meal? asked Moses while the man paid his brother.

My wife runs a place next door. She's serving elk and beans if you're interested. The food's not great, but there are no trap doors if you know what I mean.

The brothers thanked him and walked out of the warehouse and into the restaurant which was actually a big tent with a false wooden front. Once inside there were several long tables filled with hungry men. The brothers found two seats together and paid for their meals. Greasy meat was piled on their plates and topped with beans by a bearded waiter.

You were still a boy when I left the farm, said John. How is everyone?

Moses looked down at the table top for a moment before answering. Orman should be doing fine he said referencing their older brother. He's running the farm himself now, but nobody's more competent.

Mother died about two years ago. She'd been sickly for awhile, so it was a blessing when she passed. I stayed and helped our brother with the farm while she was alive. After she died I decided to follow in your footsteps and take to the sea to find my fortune.

Both of the brother's eyes misted over when Moses told of Abigail Folsom's passing. She went easy in her sleep, Moses reassured his older brother.

John sat silently for a few minutes the only animation in his face, the tears escaping his vacant gaze and quietly running down into his beard.

I guess I knew I'd never see her again when I left home years ago. Its just hard to think of her as gone. She was always so alive. said John as he wiped his cheeks of the evidence of his emotions. Did you find it? he asked.

Find what? asked Moses.

Your fortune. laughed his brother forcedly.

No, so far all I've found is you, joked Moses lamely. I did learn some Spanish while working the Peruvian coast. The Indians there had built an incredible civilization there before the conquistadores wrested it from them. The dominant Indians were the Incas, and they built roads, and huge cities with giant stone buildings. They also had an incredible amount of gold. That's what started me thinking about prospecting. Then I heard about this strike, and since I speak more English than Spanish or Incan, I headed this way. What about you?

Well, you remember that I left on a whaling ship. We sailed around the Horn and over to the South Seas. I kept a journal, you'll have to read it sometime. What else have I done? I spent a lot of time in the Hawaiian Islands. They are an island kingdom filled with some of the nicest people you'll ever meet. My best friend was a Hawaiian native named George. John's brow furrowed. I wish I'd gotten to say goodbye to him before I left, but he was on another island, and a ship was leaving port so I jumped aboard. He was a good friend. I miss him.

Oh, snapped John. I developed a hobby while on the ship. Have you ever heard of daguerreotype? he continued.

Daguerro what? asked Moses. No, I can't say that I have. What is it?

Let me show you, said John as he opened his duffel bag and pulled out an oil cloth. He opened it and Moses saw it held pictures encased within glass squares.. I took these with my camera.

He offered them to Moses for inspection. They were pictures of whale hunts. There were also pictures of the animals being processed, and pictures of all sorts of ships. There were also pictures of the exotic natives of the south sea islands..

These are incredible, enthused Moses as examined them closely. Those whales are huge. They're monsters. said Moses.

That's a blue whale. They're the largest animal in the world, true Kings of the Sea.

As Moses looked at each picture John tried to make them come alive to his little brother.

This one is my friend George, he said pointing to a picture of a shirtless man with dark skin wearing a grass skirt. He is a full blooded Hawaiian.

Your friend has a broad chest said Moses.

Yes, all the islanders are built that way. It's probably due to the fact that they do their canoeing on the open sea. That's a sure way to develop your upper body.

There were also black and white pictures of exotic flowers, rock formations, and houses. One picture showed smoke coming from an active volcano.

When he was done handed the photographs back to his older brother. These are amazing, he volunteered.

Thanks, said John. I haven't really had anyone to share them with before. Everybody I know is a whaler, and they are not interested in looking at whale pictures.

When the waiter walked by John asked him if there was anyplace he would recommend to spend the night.

Get a tent and pitch it in the woods outside the city, he suggested. There isn't a safe room to be had in town.

What do you mean? asked Moses.

The only rooming houses that have vacancies are the ones that feed victims to the gangs providing unconscious crewmen to unscrupulous sea captains, he answered in a soft voice.

Is it that serious a problem? asked Moses skeptically.

I'll give you an example, said the waiter. Gillespie, my bosses husband won this place and his store in a card game from Jim Greenwood. Old Greenwood got really tanked that night, and became belligerent when he lost. Gillespie offered him another drink and tried to calm him down, but Greenwood wouldn't have any of it. They argued until Greenwood stormed out drunkenly into the night.

"That's an interesting story, but what does that have to do with people disappearing?' asked John.

Greenwood must have wandered into the wrong bar after he left the game, because he never made it home. That disappearance was notable because he had roots in the community. Most victims are younger, and have just arrived when they're taken.

Are you saying that he got Shanghaied that same night?" asked John suspiciously.

That's some unlucky bastard, said Moses. First he loses his business and then he gets kidnapped and is forced to work his way to the next port.

Why are you waiting on tables instead of working the gold fields? John asked the waiter.

I tried my hand at prospecting, but I was a little late. My partner and I were out hunting when news of the strike hit town. By the time we heard about it all the likely spots were already claimed. We worked for one of the miners for awhile and got up a little money. We decided to come back here to buy some mules and start a freighting business. We're thinking of calling it Jackass Freight, he laughed. I don't know if it's 'cause we use mules or because the name describes the owners.

The brothers laughed politely at the man's joke.

We are gonna do some hauling for Gillespie, he continued, Once we get our mules shod we'll hire a couple extra men and hit the trail. In the meantime I wait tables here while my partner does some hunting. He shot the elk you're eating right now.

Tell him it tastes great, said John enthusiastically. This is the first fresh meat I've eaten in months.

Why mules? asked Moses. Wouldn't wagons be more practical?"

You boys really are new here aren't you. There ain't no roads 'cept the California trail. These miners make their own paths to where the gold is, and those aren't more than goat tracks. Mule back is the only way to get the supplies to the mines. We should make a killing, and we can always look for color ourselves along the way.

Sounds like you'll do well. offered John.

Yep affirmed the waiter. We're just waiting to find a smithy to shoe our mules. The trouble is every blacksmith in town has left for the gold fields. With the heavy loads we'll be taking and the ground we'll be traversing we don't want to risk taking unshod mules. If they come up lame in the wilderness we're in trouble.

John looked at Moses and smiled. If we had any tools we could help you out, John said to the waiter. Before we took to the sea we both grew up on our father's farm. We cut our teeth skinning mules, and we had a forge which we used to make all sorts of tools as well as shoes. Shoeing your mules would be a piece of cake.

We have access to a forge and bellows, as well as an anvil and hammers, we even have tongs, We just need someone with the skill to use them, said the waiter hopefully. Would you like the job?

John looked at Moses who nodded his assent. Sure, we don't have anything else going on, John said.

That's great, said the waiter. Say, he added. How would you boys like to come with us on our first trip. We could use the help and that way you won't get lost. Besides, a party of four is a less inviting target for the Indians.

He looked at the pistol and knife hanging from John's belt. I figure those ain't just for decoration.

John looked at Moses. We haven't even talked about partnering up. What do you think?

I think that since providence brought us together, we should stick together. We ought to at least give it long enough to get to know each other again. Why not?

What about his offer? he said indicating their waiter.

Again, why not? answered Moses. It sounds like they know the lay of the land. Between the two of us; we aren't even sure about the name of the town we're in.

John turned his head back to the waiter. It looks like we're in.

The waiter reached his hand out to John. My name's Cluggage, James Cluggage.

John Folsom, he answered shaking the outstretched hand, and this here is my brother Moses. Glad to meet you.

I hope you boys have some money, said James. There are some things you are going to need if you're heading for the gold fields. I'll be finished for the day here soon. You can follow me to our campsite and I'll introduce you to my partner John.

Sounds good. We'll just sit here and finish our supper and do some catching up. Let us know when you're ready, said John

Alright, you boys eat up. I'm almost through.

Moses was just savoring the last bite of the elk when James walked up to them.

I'm ready whenever you are said the waiter.

Let's get 'er done said John as he gulped the last of his coffee."

The waiter produced a lantern to light their way. It had gotten dark while they were eating, which made it difficult as they climbed over one hill and up another. The gentle sound of a Spanish guitar was faint in the night breeze.

That's my partner John Poole said James. He'll sing you to sleep every night. They wound their way around stumps as they made their way toward the sound. Yo John, it's James and our first employees! hollered the waiter into the darkness. The guitar playing stopped and the men made their ways carefully down the slope and into the circle of light made by Poole's campfire.

"Howdy John, this is John Folsom and his brother Moses, they're blacksmiths and mule skinners among other talents.

Poole scrutinized the brothers.

The men standing next to James were shorter than average, He noted that their lack of height was having short legs.

He moved closer to examine their faces. Both men featured eyebrows that connected above their scraggly beards. Their hair was a dark brown and their eyes looked black in the fire light.

He offered the brothers his hand which they shook. So you boy's want to hook up with Jackass freight? he asked.

You look a little on the small side to be blacksmiths, smithies are usually big burly guys. Are you sure you can handle the work?" he asked.

Are you worried that we're strong enough to swing a hammer? asked Moses with a laugh.

I guess I am, I don't want to be out in the wilderness and having to wet nurse a couple greenhorns.

Well, we are green when it comes to this place, admitted Moses, "but if you'd care to arm wrestle, I'd be glad to assure you of my arm strength.

Cluggage let out a laugh. Watch out Folsom, my partner is unbeaten in these parts.

Just like a greenhorn to jump in over his head, Poole chuckled.

Moses quietly took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeve. I guess we'll just have to see how deep the water is won't we?

Moses walked over to a makeshift table next to the tent and sat down, offering his outstretched forearm. Are you ready, or just full of wind? he said, his eyes dancing in the firelight.

Just a moment, said Poole, who ducked into the tent momentarily. He came back out with a bottle of whisky. If we're gonna do this, we should do it right. He opened the bottle and took a long pull before offering it to Moses.

Moses accepted the bottle and took a turn pouring the fiery liquid down his throat and passed the bottle to his brother. Ready? he asked.

You betcha, answered Poole who sat down across from Moses.

He looked at the size of Moses forearm and almost regretted to contest. You've got some big arms boy, he said as they clasped hands and jockeyed into position, but it takes more than arm strength to beat me."

You say when James, Poole ordered.

Are you both ready? Cluggage asked.

Both men nodded the affirmative.

Alright, Go.

There was a slight tremor as both men started to actively force their opponents arm to the table. Then Moses let out a deep grunt and the contest was over. Poole's arm lay pinned to the table top.

I wouldn't have believed it! shouted Cluggage in awe.

Well believe it, said Poole flatly.

He looked at Moses he said Congratulations, I've never met the man that could best me before. How did you get so strong?

I don't know. I've always been that way, As a boy I spent all my free time in the summer canoeing the streams and rivers of Maine while fishing and hunting. That and the hard work on the farm just made me strong I guess. Arm wrestling was just a way to pass the time when in port or on the ship. I just got good at it.

Well it's no lie that you can arm wrestle. Welcome aboard, laughed Poole. I hope there's no hard feelings.

I'm just glad to have a plan. This morning I was a stranger in a strange land, and now I've found a brother, a job, and I think also some friends. Seems to me I'm doing alright, although there is something that could make it better."

What's that?" asked Poole.

Moses reached into his duffel bag and pulled out a flute. Let's sit around the fire and play some music. Do you know how to play Old Dan Tucker?

You betcha, said Poole with a laugh. He picked up his guitar and started energetically playing some chords. Moses added the melody and soon Cluggage and John were singing the words along with the musicians.

As they sang they passed the bottle between them. The four men got acquainted in this manner until the early morning when they finally turned in for the night.

A few hours later the brothers and their new employers, walked back to the Mercantile leading two mules. They were going to purchase the supplies the brothers would need. As they walked by the restaurant John stopped dead in his tracks.

Moses looked to see what had his brothers attention. There was a new sign in the restaurant window.

'Whole Wheat Flapjacks $1.00 a plate'

That dirty rotten son of a ..., said John under his breath.

What's climbed up your skirt? asked Poole, who had heard his comment.

Gillespie gave me a nickel for forty pounds of wheat that he told me was worthless.

Poole laughed. That sounds like Gillespie. He would cheat his mother out of her last meal if he hasn't already.

John clutched the handle of his pistol. I'm going to have a talk with Mr. Gillespie.

James and John Poole hastily stepped in his path.

Get out of my way, the fiery Folsom commanded his new bosses.

First tell us what you plan to do. We're supposed to haul freight for this guy. We wouldn't cotton to your killing him before we get to do this job, said James.

Folsom looked the two men in the face and began to calm down. To be fair, I didn't have to accept his offer. It's partly my fault for being too lazy to try to sell my wheat elsewhere. He glared at the sign. I'd best stay away from him till I cool off. If I see him with this hangover, I might just forget myself.

Maybe we'd better get you outfitted over at Bob Howard's store, suggested Poole. It's only fair that you let him cheat you too he teased.

Folsom's eyes flashed and the top of his cheeks turned red for a moment. Then he shook his head and laughed. Your right, all the vultures should have a chance to feed. It won't matter once I strike it rich.

These merchants cheat the greenhorns as much as they can, warned James. Don't worry, you'll savvy up pretty quick. Let us do the haggling for you, he suggested.

How do we know you don't have an arrangement with this merchant to help him cheat us? asked Moses pointedly. After all we just met, and you do work for Gillespie.

James laughed and turned to John. See, your brother's understanding how things work in San Francisco already. Come on boys let's get your kits together.

The four men turned and walked over to Howard's Emporium. They stepped onto the boardwalk and entered the establishment.

The store was laid out about the same as Gillespie's place. There was a long counter by the door. Behind it was a rack of rifles, powder horns, balls, and percussion caps. Inside the counter was a display of pistols, knives and tomahawks. The rest of the room was filled with assorted merchandise from gloves and bulk cloth, to sacks of flour and seeds. Another wall was filled with tack including a row of saddles. rope, canteens, blankets, candles, matches, pants, and hats. Sturdy looking boots were also offered for sale.

Moses walked over to the saddles while John examined the rifles behind the counter.

Can I take a look at that breechloader? he asked the man behind the counter.

You bet, said the man enthusiastically as he offered the weapon to him. It's a Hall.

John felt the weight of the rifle and examined the breechblock. He found the release in front of the trigger. He pressed it and the breechblock popped up exposing the chamber for the ball and powder, which would be rammed into the tilted breech which would then shut and a percussion cap attached to the nipple.

How much? asked John.

Twelve dollars, answered the salesman.

I'll need balls, powder, and caps to go with it.

Moses walked back to his brother carrying a set of files. Did you find something interesting?

Yes, a Hall breechloader, I've wanted one since I tried one in Hawaii. I love how fast they reload.

Moses pointed to another rifle on the wall. What is that one? he asked the salesman.

Its a Hawken 50 caliber, the one they call the 'Rocky Mountain' rifle, answered the man who proceeded to reach up to take it down for his customers perusal.

Moses took the weapon and brought it up to firing position. The walnut 'beaver tail' felt cool against his cheek. His right index finger found the double trigger. he gently squeezed the rear trigger, setting the action for the front trigger. He stared through the blade sight at the end of the octagonal barrel and gave the front trigger the gentlest of touches. The hammer clicked and Moses grunted with satisfaction. He examined the stock and happily noted that the butt plate and other trim was made of iron.

What do you want for it? he asked.

Ten dollars.

Sold, smiled Moses.

Are you sure you wouldn't rather get a breechloader? asked John.

I'm used to a muzzle loader, answered Moses. Besides I like a hair trigger.

He looked inside the cabinet. I'll take four of those pipe tomahawks and five pounds of tobacco.

He then asked Cluggage, Does Howard carry trade beads?

Yes they're right over here, he answered. Those are funny things to pick up.

Well I'm thinking that I'd rather trade with the Indians than shoot them. If I can build a relationship of trust between them and us I want to.

That's smart thinking, if they'll let you, said Cluggage.

John was looking at a newspaper which he added to his pile, he hesitated, and then added a couple more copies to his stack.

What are those for? asked Poole.

Those miners might be as thirsty for news as I am? It won't hurt to take a couple copies with us. They might bring us some good will, answered John.

Chapter Two 1850

Sutter's Fort (California Territory)

Its almost dawn; time to get up, Cluggage said to the men asleep on the ground in front of him. We've gotta reload these mules and get on the way.

Poole and the Folsom brothers groaned in unison as they roused themselves from their bedrolls. Cluggage began cooking breakfast which was his duty that morning. The others repacked the mules for the day's journey. The loads had to be perfectly balanced so that a mule could carry a large amount of weight without fear of tipping over. The crates and bags were secured with a web of rope tied strategically using specific knots. The brothers sea training came in handy there and they'd shown their employers better ways to secure the freight.

The mules were fed as they were packed to keep them distracted and docile. Once they were done loading the mules they quickly drank the coffee and ate the biscuits Cluggage had prepared. They then roped the mules together head to tail into three groups of eight. Three of them would each lead a group with their own mule, and the whole thing would be strung out single file with the fourth man riding drag.

Cluggage and Poole rotated the first and second position between them each day. The Folsom boys, being employees, brought up the rear in third and fourth position. Being the last man in line was miserable, as he ate the dust thrown up by all the animals proceeding them.

The mule train moved in silence for several hours, the only sound the rhythmic clump of the mules hooves punctuated by birds and squirrels scolding them from the treetops.

We're coming up on Sutter's Fort! shouted Poole to the three men behind him. They had a large load of supplies that Sutter had ordered from Gillespie. The excitable John Sutter was currently at odds with the shipping company that ran barges up the Sacramento River so he had decided to transport his freight overland.

The men rode out of the forest and onto a plain. In the distance they saw the high white walls of Sutter's Fort towering above manicured rows of crops being tended by busy workers. Armed men patrolled a large field filled with cattle that were grazing on the rich grasses to their right. They could see the blue waters Sacramento river glistening in the distance.

As they continued down the path toward the fort the Folsom boys were impressed by the rich landscape they saw around them. They finally passed through the two and a half foot thick walls and into the courtyard facing the headquarters building that jutted out at a 90 degree angle from the rear wall.

A large man wearing a white hat stepped out onto the porch. He had long sideburns and sported both an elaborate moustache, and a small patch of hair under his lower lip. He was dressed in a black silk jacket worn over a starched white shirt. A flamboyant scarf was tied around his neck. The man swaggered down the steps followed by a younger version of himself.

I'm John Sutter, the man announced in a heavy German accent.

John Poole, Jackass freight at your service Captain.

The man beamed when Poole said Captain.

Have we met before? he asked.

No sir, answered Poole, but everyone's heard of Captain Sutter of the Swiss Guard.

Sutter's smile broadened, he had been billing himself as that since the Mexicans gave him the whole central valley as his own fiefdom in 1840. He named his 150,000 acre grant New Helvetia which was the Latin word for his native Switzerland.

What's your business here? he asked. You're not land stealing prospectors are you?

Like I said we're freighters. We're delivering your goods from Gillespie, answered Poole.

Gillespie, why didn't you say so? You made good time, I wasn't expecting you so soon, said Sutter. Come into my office. You can have your men lead the mules into our corral and unload them there. He turned abruptly and mounted the stairs.

The younger man introduced himself Augustus Sutter, please excuse my father, he hasn't been himself lately. We've been losing a lot of beef to poachers, and most of our Caucasian staff has quit to join the gold rush. My father is passionate in his belief that the real money in this valley is in agriculture not mining. He's afraid that mining will ruin everything he's built. Come inside. Bring your paperwork and we can settle up. I'll send some Indians to help your crew.

John and James dismounted and handing their leads to the Folsom boys, went inside to conclude their business with Sutter.

Let's get these critters unloaded, said John, and the two men led the mules into the corral where they tied them to the fence in preparation of unpacking them.

They were joined a few minutes later by a dozen Indians led by two white men.

Let these Indians do the work, said one of the men. You two look like the devil. You're covered with dust and I'll bet you're thirsty too.

Moses and John looked at one another and laughed.

You're right about that said Moses. Do you know where we can get some water?

The well's over there, he said pointing across the courtyard. We'll walk with you.

What about our stuff? said John looking at the Indians busily unpacking their pack train.

Don't worry about them. They know that if any one of them steals anything they'll all pay, dearly. No worries there.

The men walked over to the well and drew a bucket. While the Folsoms drank and cleaned the dust off, the men introduced themselves.

I'm Henry Bigler, and this here's Azariah Smith.

Glad to meet you. I'm John Folsom, and this is my brother Moses. Have you two been working for Sutter long?

Well lets see, we left Council Bluffs Iowa in '46 with The Mormon Battalion. Freemont garrisoned us here and we never left. said Bigler.

This was already here in '46 ? asked Moses.

Old man Sutter talked the Mexican Governor into giving him a land grant in 1840, answered Smith. He told him he had been in New Archangel and that the Russians were planning to move into the country. He promised to maintain a buffer between the Russians and the Mexicans.

We should go get something a little stronger to drink and we can tell them the story of how that came about. suggested Bigler. He motioned for the Folsom brothers to follow him into an adobe building on the far side of the headquarters building.

What's this building? asked Moses.

Its our Brewery, answered Smith. Taste some California wine boys, or would you prefer whisky or warm beer?"

Anything but beer, answered John. On the sea we drank beer instead of water, and I've grown to hate the taste.

"You were a sailor?' asked Bilkens.

Yah, I worked on whaling ships based around the Hawaiian Islands.

That's funny, this fort was built by black Hawaiians, said Smith.

How's that? asked John.

Bigler passed out the drinks while Smith told the tale.

Old man Sutter is Swiss, he began.

I heard our boss greet him as a Captain in the Swiss army, volunteered Moses

He claimed to be, but his son told me he left his wife, four kids, and a failed business in Switzerland to come to America to seek his fortune. Somehow he turned up broke and stranded in the Sandwich Islands. That's when he first claimed to be a captain in the guard. He Presented himself as a white officer which was enough to get him invited into high society such as it was in Hawaii.

That is the way of the islands, agreed John.

"You can see how flamboyant he is. He became popular at various embassy dinners. Eventually he duped several prominent Hawaiian businessmen into financing a mercantile project in the Sacramento Valley. When he left on the Clementine in '39, it was full of borrowed cargo, money, and they even threw in ten Hawaiian workmen to help him build his trading post."

John laughed. I heard about that, but I didn't put the name together with the story. Those businessmen never saw a penny after he left. We laughed about that for weeks when word leaked out

Well, continued Smith "The Clementine also carried cargo bound for New Archangel in Russian America. They landed there first, trading needed supplies to the Russians in exchange for sea otter furs."

"The Russian Governor, hearing that Sutter was a Swiss nobleman, invited him and the Captain of the Clementine to dinner. After much vodka the Russian implied to Sutter that his nation planned to extend it's influence southward, leapfrogging the British presence in the northwest and claiming the land between the Umpqua and Sacramento Rivers, an area that Mexico was sure to dispute."

Armed with this information Sutter went straight to the Mexican Governor once he landed at Yerba Buena.

I could use a refill, all this talking is making my throat dry. He held out his glass and Bigler refilled it. Where was I? he asked after taking a long swallow of rye whiskey.

Sutter was talking to the Mexican governor, said Moses, himself nursing a beer.

Oh yah, he told the governor about the Russian plans and offered his services to thwart their goals. In exchange for a land grant he would build a fort and enlist former members of his Swiss Guard and protect his northern border from Russian intrusion. Smith started laughing uncontrollably. The Mexican bought his story and granted him thousands of acres, and he didn't even have an army.

Bigler took up the story from there while Smith poured himself another tall glass of whiskey. The old man sailed up the Sacramento River on a Schooner called the Isabella. When he saw this location he knew it was the place to build his fort. There was only one problem, or more like two hundred angry problems.

What do you mean? asked Moses.

When they approached the shore they found a large group of Miwok Indians who were not thrilled by the idea of white settlers intruding in their country.

Sutter has stones though. He had the captain of the Isabella fire a warning salvo over the Indians heads. He then asked to parley with their chief.

He came ashore with only two of his Hawaiians, some standard trade gifts, and a musket. The Mexican governor had included 150 old muskets to help outfit Sutter's army, and Sutter planned to do just that.

Smith jumped back in and took back the story line.