Chapter 11

I’m standing off to one side, trying to decide what to get since I’ve no cooking implements, no nothing. This tall fellow steps up and starts saying what he wants, and it’s a lot: flour, sugar, coffee, bacon, molasses, butter, potatoes, dried apples, canned goods. No wonder he’s got a pack mule. He also must have a good setup if he can handle all this. When he’s made his purchases with a tiny gold nugget, I ask can I help him load his mule.

“I’d appreciate that,” he says. His voice is deep and I get he’s older, thirty maybe or thirty five. I take up a big sack of flour and carry it outside, set it near the mule, and when the fellow comes out carrying the sack of sugar, he puts it onto the pack saddle like it has no weight at all. He does the same with the flour, then we go back inside for more. He fills two canvas bags with goods and we each tote one to the mule. Once he’s secured everything, he shakes my hand. “Thanks. You’re new here.”