Wild Embrace

“Nothing any white man has ever offered to the Suquamish has ever been good for them,” Chief Moon Elk answered. “Nah, look here! If that is why you have come to have council with Chief Moon Elk, the meeting is now over. Kla-how-ya, goodbye!”

Not to be dismissed that easily, Earl rose to his feet. Morris scrambled to his feet beside him. “We will leave and soon, but I first will quickly tell you my plan,” Earl said in a rush of words. “Please allow it. What can it hurt just to listen?”

“Kloshe, well enough.” Chief Moon Elk said, standing, also. He nodded. “Speak. Hy-ak, quickly. Then be gone with you.”

Earl explained his plan—that the Indians would use their skills at catching the salmon for him, and he, in turn, would pay them a high price. He also told Chief Moon Elk that he would like to hire several of his braves to work in his fishery, and that he would pay them well for a day’s work.

After Earl had given his presentation, there was a long pause before Chief Moon Elk offered any response.

The chief moved around the fire and stood eye to eye with Earl. “Many moons ago my people labored for the white man, catching and selling salmon to them, but they were cheated. Now my people catch salmon only for themselves. My people rely on salmon for their main food. They share with no one!”

“That was unfortunate that your people dealt with men who cheated them,” Earl said, becoming unnerved again by the chief’s steady, penetrating gaze, and by the presence of the braves as they moved closer behind him. “But that wouldn’t happen if they were under my employ. I cheat no one. I give you my word.”

“A white man’s word is no better than that huge boulder that perches on the edge of the butte close to our village. It threatens to fall at any moment and crush my people beneath it,” Chief Moon Elk said, his voice tight. “No. I will not allow my people to participate in this white man’s venture. My people will continue to catch salmon, but only for themselves.”

Earl was at a loss for words. He looked over at Morris for support, but the chief began speaking again.

He turned his eyes to Chief Moon Elk, seeing his hopes

in his fishery venture fading. There weren’t that many Suquamish who had chosen to live away from the reservations. It was imperative that he convince this chief, for he was the most important and admired of those who chose to live a free existence.

“Nah, look here,” Chief Moon Elk said, his voice taking on a softer tone. “The salmon to the Suquamish are what the buffalo once were to the plains Indians. If angered, the spirits that control the salmon will cause a failure of this autumn’s run. It would anger the spirits if white men joined with the Suquamish in the salmon run.”

Earl tried to dissuade him. “I’m sure your spirits would understand that there is more than enough salmon for everyone. Your spirits will see that my plan will help the Indians, whose who work for me will have a steady income.”

“I have spoken,” Chief Moon Elk said, lifting his chin proudly, and folding his arms across his chest. “My people will remain free like the mee-gee-see, eagle. The Suquamish people’s lives and religion are tied to the salmon, whose migrations mean sustenance. And the salmon’s autumn arrival is sacred. I will not take that away from my people—now or ever!”

Morris nudged Earl in the side again, and nodded toward the door. “We’d best leave,” he whispered in Earl’s ear. “But don’t fret. I’ve my own plans. Chief Moon Elk will change his mind. You’ll see.”

Earl gave Morris a harried look. He looked one last time at the chief then turned and walked from the longhouse, escorted by the braves. Disappointed, frustrated, and angry, he mounted his horse and gladly rode away from the village. Usually, he was able to convince anyone of anything. He was known as a wheeler and dealer.

But he had never met anyone as stubborn and strong willed as Chief Moon Elk. He wasn’t quite sure now how to deal further with him, but he must. He would not give up hope this quickly. He had not become a rich man by allowing himself to be stopped by discouragement and doubts.

“You sure are a quiet one,” Morris said, edging his horse closer to Earl’s as they rode beneath a massive umbrella of trees. “The chief’s got you tongue-tied, eh? Well, that won’t be for long. I’ve got a plan.”

Earl glowered at Morris. “It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?” he spat out. “I could’ve used a little support back there in that damn Indian’s longhouse. You just sat like a bump on a log, letting me do the pleading. Damn it, Morris, you’re my partner. Why didn’t you act like it back there when you saw me cornered? You’ve got a big mouth, usually. Did you lose your nerve, or what? Did the spears at your back make you yellow? Damn it, I don’t need no partner that don’t know how to think under pressure.”

Morris’s face became red with anger. His cold, blue eyes flashed into Earl’s. He said in a low and controlled voice, “I’d watch my mouth if I were you. You wouldn’t want me to back out on my deal. Without me, it’s no deal at all. And just because the chief got the best of you, don’t give you the right to jump on my ass about things. Just let it lay, Earl, or you’ll have more than you bargained for.”

Earl paled, not liking the implication behind Morris’s threat. Morris was absolutely necessary for his fishery.

Yet, Earl was not sure if his choice had been a wise one. He had not been able to find out much about Morris before agreeing to a partnership with him. His credentials had been sketchy. Earl suspected that Morris had a dark side, but he did not want to find out what it was.

“All right, so I mouthed off a bit too much,” Earl conceded. “Just forget that I did and tell me what you meant back there. How are you going to convince the chief to join up with us? What’s on your mind, Morris? Tell me about it.”

“There’s no need in my going into detail about it,” Morris said, shrugging casually. “Just relax. Things have a way of working out.” He swung his horse away from Earl’s. “This is where I leave you, my friend, to find your way back to Seattle alone. I‘ve something to do—someone to see.”

Morris rode away without further explanation. Earl headed in the direction of Seattle. His future seemed bleak. He had wanted the fishery for Elizabeth. Although, she did not know it, he was driven to succeed only because of her. She was all that was left in his life that was important to him. For her, he must succeed.

“Elizabeth,” he whispered to himself. “I wonder what you’re doing right now?” He smiled. “Frannie is probably fussin’ over you, makin’ you beautiful.”

* * *

Elizabeth snapped the reins, goading the horse to hurry its pace. Her wet clothes were not only cold, but made her skin itch. She looked over at Maysie, whose shoulders were still weighted with her secret shame.

“I’m sorry for acting as though I don’t trust you,” Maysie suddenly blurted. “There is no need, whatsoever, in you not knowing my last name—or why I am in Seattle.” The girl paused, then continued in a rush, “My name is Maysie Parker. I’m sixteen. My parents are poor. There was hardly ever enough food on the table for me and my five brothers and sisters. I came to Seattle after I read several leaflets that had been handed out in San Francisco—saying that the opportunity for young women in Seattle was great. I sneaked aboard a freighter and came here hoping to make my own way in the world. Hoping to make lots of money. Once here, I discovered that the leaflets had been distributed by brothel and saloon owners. The opportunities that lured me here were nothing more than having to live as a whore, to make enough money to exist from day to day.”

The shock of this revelation showed on Elizabeth’s face. She remained speechless as Maysie went on telling her sad tale of a young life in trouble.