make any load at all,” Mr. Thomas said, walking over. “You’ll be perfectly safe.” He put his hands on her shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze. “Trust me.”
Margaret looked up into Mr. Thomas’ eyes, and he smiled down at her. “You’re sure that Janett cannot be in her own pirogue?” she asked.
Mr. Thomas laughed, his hands still on her shoulders. “Now I see,” he said, “that it’s not only the safety of our crafts that concerns you.”
“Stop being a pest, Margaret,” Janett said, and pushed past Margaret and Mr. Thomas. “Here, I’ll get on and show you it’s completely safe. Major Haley, if you would give me a hand?”
“It would be my honor,” the major said. He put his hands on Janett’s waist, then lifted her easily into the pirogue.
“Thank you, Major,” Janett said, her face showing a slight flush. She positioned herself on the plank of wood that served as a support and a bench, and made a show of arranging her skirts to take up only half the available space.
Mr. Thomas’ grip on Margaret’s shoulders tightened for just a second as they watched this display, then he took his hands away. Margaret rolled her eyes. Janett always had that effect on men. They fell over one another to help her sister into carriages, out of carriages, through doors–even to walk, sit, and stand. And they got jealous if they did not reach her first. On the boat, and in the fort, Janett had scarcely had to raise her hand unaided. Margaret thought it was a wonder men let Janett breath on her own–though she now recalled there had been one or two who had taken it into their heads that Janett needed their assistance with that, as well. Da, and then Mother in Da’s absence, had put a stop to that.
“See?” Janett said. “There is plenty of room for you, Margaret.”
Margaret looked at the other three pirogues pulled up on the bank of the river. Mister Zeek and Puncher had headed back across the lake as soon as Mr. Thomas and the soldiers had unloaded the crates and barrels to the lakeshore. Then the men had split the supplies across all of the pirogues that had been waiting for them. “What about Miss Rose and Chal’s? Could I ride with them?”
“No,” Mr. Thomas said, his voice less cheerful now. “The other boats bear a greater load of supplies. You must ride with your sister.”
“Fine,” Margaret said. She walked up to the pirogue. She ignored the hand that Major Haley offered. She hiked her skirt up and stepped into the pirogue.
“Margaret!” Janett said.
Margaret ignored her sister, and positioned herself on what was left of the narrow bench.
“Move ‘em out,” Mr. Thomas shouted.
Miss Rose pushed the pirogue she shared with Chal away from the bank and jumped into the bow. Her feet never touched the water.
After Miss Rose and Chal had their boat facing upstream and were rowing, Major Haley pushed the pirogue with Margaret and Janet into the water. His boots splashed in the water, and as he jumped in the pirogue tilted enough to make Janett cry out. And to push Janett against Margaret.
Margaret braced herself on the side of the boat and pushed back against Janett, hoping they would not capsize. It was going to be a long trip.
* * *
The afternoon was divided between hours spent in the boat, cramped against Janett while Major Haley and Corporal Higgs rowed or poled, and even longer hours spent walking beside Janett as the men lifted and carried or dragged the pirogues like sledges between channels or around small cataracts.
It might not have been hours. The trees of the bayuk blocked the sun in most places, making it difficult to reckon time. But it felt like hours, Margaret thought. Even without direct sunlight, the temperature climbed until Margaret regretted wearing her skirt over the trousers. She considered taking off the superfluous skirt, but dreaded Janett’s reaction.
Janett had spent the first hour in the pirogue talking. Incessantly. First to Major Haley,
Margaret looked up into Mr. Thomas’ eyes, and he smiled down at her. “You’re sure that Janett cannot be in her own pirogue?” she asked.
Mr. Thomas laughed, his hands still on her shoulders. “Now I see,” he said, “that it’s not only the safety of our crafts that concerns you.”
“Stop being a pest, Margaret,” Janett said, and pushed past Margaret and Mr. Thomas. “Here, I’ll get on and show you it’s completely safe. Major Haley, if you would give me a hand?”
“It would be my honor,” the major said. He put his hands on Janett’s waist, then lifted her easily into the pirogue.
“Thank you, Major,” Janett said, her face showing a slight flush. She positioned herself on the plank of wood that served as a support and a bench, and made a show of arranging her skirts to take up only half the available space.
Mr. Thomas’ grip on Margaret’s shoulders tightened for just a second as they watched this display, then he took his hands away. Margaret rolled her eyes. Janett always had that effect on men. They fell over one another to help her sister into carriages, out of carriages, through doors–even to walk, sit, and stand. And they got jealous if they did not reach her first. On the boat, and in the fort, Janett had scarcely had to raise her hand unaided. Margaret thought it was a wonder men let Janett breath on her own–though she now recalled there had been one or two who had taken it into their heads that Janett needed their assistance with that, as well. Da, and then Mother in Da’s absence, had put a stop to that.
“See?” Janett said. “There is plenty of room for you, Margaret.”
Margaret looked at the other three pirogues pulled up on the bank of the river. Mister Zeek and Puncher had headed back across the lake as soon as Mr. Thomas and the soldiers had unloaded the crates and barrels to the lakeshore. Then the men had split the supplies across all of the pirogues that had been waiting for them. “What about Miss Rose and Chal’s? Could I ride with them?”
“No,” Mr. Thomas said, his voice less cheerful now. “The other boats bear a greater load of supplies. You must ride with your sister.”
“Fine,” Margaret said. She walked up to the pirogue. She ignored the hand that Major Haley offered. She hiked her skirt up and stepped into the pirogue.
“Margaret!” Janett said.
Margaret ignored her sister, and positioned herself on what was left of the narrow bench.
“Move ‘em out,” Mr. Thomas shouted.
Miss Rose pushed the pirogue she shared with Chal away from the bank and jumped into the bow. Her feet never touched the water.
After Miss Rose and Chal had their boat facing upstream and were rowing, Major Haley pushed the pirogue with Margaret and Janet into the water. His boots splashed in the water, and as he jumped in the pirogue tilted enough to make Janett cry out. And to push Janett against Margaret.
Margaret braced herself on the side of the boat and pushed back against Janett, hoping they would not capsize. It was going to be a long trip.
* * *
The afternoon was divided between hours spent in the boat, cramped against Janett while Major Haley and Corporal Higgs rowed or poled, and even longer hours spent walking beside Janett as the men lifted and carried or dragged the pirogues like sledges between channels or around small cataracts.
It might not have been hours. The trees of the bayuk blocked the sun in most places, making it difficult to reckon time. But it felt like hours, Margaret thought. Even without direct sunlight, the temperature climbed until Margaret regretted wearing her skirt over the trousers. She considered taking off the superfluous skirt, but dreaded Janett’s reaction.
Janett had spent the first hour in the pirogue talking. Incessantly. First to Major Haley,
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