Read Online Black Hills (9781101559116) by Rod Thompson - Free Book Online Page A

work. He continued on the way to get the pick and shovel he was originally going for.

    Springtime found them all plowing and planting from early morning until late in the day. Fall found them harvesting and plowing under the surface growth. Between times, they pulled weeds . . . so many weeds.
    Cormac decided the few potatoes they needed for their own use would be grown in the vegetable garden. They planted flax. There would be no more potatoes planted there.
    He and Mr. Schwartz hunted as needed for meat: sometimes together, other times alone. Pheasants, ducks, and geese—usually Canadian Honkers—were in abundance, occasionally deer wandered into the area or, more rarely, a buffalo, of which there were too few left after the buffalo hunters and which Cormac refused to shoot.
    Travelers were passing by more frequently and were invited to stay for food and rest. Their company and conversation were much looked forward to for the latest news of what was happening in the world.
    A traveler stopping by on his way to California gave them a well-read copy of the Chicago Tribune , which told them a foursquare-mile section of the city had burned to the ground and hundreds of people had been killed because a cow belonging to a Mrs. O’Leary had kicked over a lantern in a small shed near the edge of town. A Bostonian wearing a sweater-vest and what he called “riding breeches” that ballooned out on both sides, along with a silly cap, spoke of Wild Bill Hickok being the marshal of Abilene and of two railroads that connected somewhere in Utah, making the railroad tracks stretch all the way across the nation.
    A handsome young fellow not long out of New York who caught Lainey’s eye succumbed to her flirting by giving her a nearly new two-cent piece with the words “In God We Trust” prominently displayed on one side, which he claimed was the first time the phrase had ever been used on U.S. currency. True or not, it was the first time any of them had seen such a coin. Cormac wasn’t too happy about the flirting part, although he wasn’t quite sure why. What did he care if she wanted to make a fool of herself? He stormed out of the house and jumped on Lop Ear bareback. With no saddle and a handful of mane, they shot into the hills like a house afire.
    Another traveler, this one from Illinois, was on his way to California in search of gold and tried to talk the Schwartzes into walking away from their farm and going to find some for themselves. “They could travel together,” he said.
    â€œNo tank you,” Mr. Schwartz answered in his German accent. “We’ve found our gold right here. We go to bed at night as a family, wake up, and work this rich Dakota soil as a family. That’s all the gold we need.”
    The travelers’ stories put Cormac in mind of his mother’s comments about reading, taking him places he might otherwise not go. She had been well-read and had wanted him and Becky to also be. He returned to reading her books again. Maybe one day he might be wishful of seeing some other places, but for now, he had the responsibility of the farm.
    Mr. Schwartz had taken to wearing his handgun, as had most men, and taught Cormac about the powder charge, the ball and cap routine of loading it, and how to use the molds to make the necessary balls—or actual bullets if he wanted more killing power. With his pa’s teachings in mind, Cormac got in some practice time shooting at targets, and his aim became better. He rarely missed with any of the guns, making Mr. Schwartz envious. Being left-handed, Mr. Schwartz wore his holster on his left hip. Cormac always threw rocks with his left, leading him to believe he was also left-handed.
    One day when Lainey had carried lunch to them in the field, Mr. Schwartz and Cormac stopped work and walked, with Mr. Schwartz on Cormac’s right, to where she was spreading the lunch out on a blanket. As she bent to place a bowl