She drew in a deep breath, relishing the sweet, oxygen-filled air. How glad she was to have left the city of St. Louis. She had felt stifled there, even to the point of disgust due to the constant manure scents in the air. With the farmers' fields needing fertilizing and the wagon traffic on the roads leaving behind horse droppings, there was a constant scent of dung in the air. Indeed, it would be with deep regret when she had to return there.
But, the aroma of the Northwestern air was not compost-scented. Gladly, she put the ugliness of St. Louis behind her…at least for now.
As she leaned against the railing of the mid-deck section of the steamboat, she smiled. At last, she had done it; she was back in Indian Country. It was probably truthful to say she would relish every moment here, if for no other reason than the knowledge it was not to be her permanent residence.
Glancing down into the water, it was with relief to see the "river of sticks" was at last behind them. In the beginning of their adventure upon the Missouri River, there were so many dead trees littering the water, as well as the shores and sheltered nooks of the river, it had been frightening. Added to those was the terror of the water of the Missouri River, itself. Indeed, the river's waters rolled, boiled and raged, making the trip upriver frightful. Always there had been the danger of being caught on the snags, sandbars, dams of mud and branches, or the sometimes huge tree limbs hiding beneath the water. And, if this weren't enough, the ship could have become stuck upon some island littered with rotting timber. It could even have become grounded in the shallow parts of the river.
Luckily, the captain of the ship had piloted the boat so it had almost always been toward the middle of the river. Still, accidents could have happened.
However, as they had sailed farther upstream, the logs littering the water had become less and less and the scenery had become more picturesque. Here and there Amelia had seen huge groves of giant cottonwood trees, their shade taking on an almost park-like appearance. But, even those spots had been left behind as they had continued to sail farther north. Here, instead of trees, the prairie began to dominate the land, its carpet of green sprawling down to the water's edge, then trailing away up and over bluffs until it disappeared in the distance.
Suddenly a strong blast of wind blew Amelia's bonnet away from her face completely, the bonnet's ties alone keeping it from becoming lost in the muddy water. The wind made her smile. Ah, how she loved this land. She remembered these unending winds, which at times could be as gentle as a caress, though most generally were not.
Amelia inhaled deeply and was rewarded with the most pleasant scent of wildflowers. She closed her eyes and smiled.
"What are you finding to grin about?" asked Sharon Wells, her tawny-haired best friend from St. Louis.
"Take a deep breath," Amelia responded, opening her eyes. "Do you smell the flowers and the grass…the freshness of the river? How tired I am of the city's scent of manure."
Sharon chuckled, the hint of laughter lighting up her soft-brown eyes. She muttered, "Put like that, I would have to agree with you. We may as well take pleasure in the atmosphere here, for it is beautiful and clean. I do worry, though, about what we might find at the end of our journey. We are so far away from any kind of civilization. Do you fret about this, too?"
"No," Amelia answered. "Though I admit that when the steamboat docked at Fort Union, I was fearful since my father is the Trader there. I was truly afraid he might try to take me off this boat by force. But now, since we have put Fort Union well to our rear, I am relieved. Indeed, I feel as if I might sing with joy."
"But, what can we expect once we arrive there?" asked Sharon. "I'm a little frightened. As you are aware, there are several Indians aboard the ship now, and I find I am terrorized by them. What will it be like when I am surrounded by them?"
"Have any of them caused you to feel this way?"
"Well, no. It's simply the way they look. And, they act so differently from us."
"True, true. But, do not forget, it is an adventure we are seeking."
"So, you feel no terror?"
"None. But, you must remember I have been in this country before and have met many of the people from the tribes. Perhaps I should have spent my time teaching you the sign language, since every Indian upon the plains speaks it."
"Why? Why would the natives use such a means of talking to one another? Isn't it cumbersome?"
"No, it really isn't, and it is rather easy to learn. But, what you might not understand is that none of these tribes speak the same language, and so, a long time ago, I suppose, they developed the language of sign, which they all know and use, even sometimes when they are speaking aloud."
"Perhaps you could still teach it to me. Do you know how many more days of travel are before us?"
"I am uncertain, but I believe I heard the captain say that we are close to our destination."
Sharon dropped into silence. After a moment, she said, "Everything is so different here. Tall, snowcapped mountains and bluffs in the distance; green and sometimes a flat, brown prairie stretching out straight toward those mountains. I find it rather frightening, all this room. Are you certain you don't feel this, also?"
"No, I don't. Perhaps it's because this country has a way of seeping into a girl's soul, and, once this is done, she can never be far away from it again and be happy. At least, it is this way for me. But, you are quite right, we are very far from our home in St. Louis. Yet, I have missed this land and the freedom of this country. Indeed, I am very happy to be returning to it."
Silence reigned between them, until, at length, Sharon asked, "Do you think we will be staying at Fort McKenzie? Or do you believe we will be required to find our way to the Indian encampment and stay there?"
"I don't really know," replied Amelia. "But, since I am coming here to visit my sister, and, since she is married to Eagle Heart, a Blackfoot medicine man, I believe we may very well stay in their Indian village."
"How…intriguing. My fiancé will be happy to learn this. He has always wanted to travel into the northwest in order to set the western landscape to canvas, as well as to paint the images of the savages."
"Please do not call the Indians 'savages.' They are not. I speak the truth. After you have been here awhile, I think you might begin to see them merely as people with many of the same desires as we all have."
"I'm sorry," Sharon responded. "You are right, of course. I should not have called them savage. It is only that…I am frightened of them. Please forgive me."
"Of course. Really, there is nothing to forgive. This is your first time to see this beautiful land."
