The trip downriver was enjoyable in the summer heat. While the humidity and bugs were still annoying, it was far better than sweltering in the camp town near the fort without a breeze to cool things off even slightly.

I was happy to leave the stench behind as well. That invasive and nauseating smell of human and animal waste fermenting in the summer heat was soul sucking. Plumbing wasn’t a high priority at frontier camps and although it wasn’t bad in the winter, summer had no problem reminding you how nature dealt with such things. It reminded me why I don’t like cities: regardless of how modern and clean they were, you simply couldn’t eliminate the stench of so many mammals living close together.

The open clean air on the Missouri river had its own texture and odor, which was because the Mighty Mo moved slowly this time of year and was colored by the smell of vegetation rotting in the water. It was still refreshing after the odorous assault of camp town and the fort. It was cramped on the boat as it always was, but the ride downriver was as fast as ever once the afternoon winds started to kick in. We made Rulo Landing before suppertime and though we didn’t have a crowd to greet us again, we did have a nice dock to tie up to.

Rulo Landing had progressed nicely over the last week and the pier had grown even further. What had been skeletons when we left were now fully finished docks and buildings. These weren’t impressive gothic works by any means but they were definitely sturdy functional structures. Interestingly enough they had even built the harbor master’s hut into a floatable building as a preventative measure against the annual floods. It was a very small square log cabin that sat on level ground on a large raft of cut tree trunks. It was tethered by long ropes attached to trees up the bluff. The docks themselves were able to rise and fall with the constantly changing level of the river. It was a very ingenious setup and looked to be able to withstand everything but the most violent of floods. I was truly impressed.

The hut was a very simple one room setup to support a harbor master when the river was navigable. In other seasons a sentry would use it. It did have a small brazier but that would be ineffective against the Nebraska winter. In the dead of winter it would just be closed up. I learned later that the blacksmithing team was hard at work building chains to replace the rope, it being just a matter of time and materials. I was working on the time problem and we had sent a boat out after materials but the trip back from St. Louis would take a couple of weeks.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

By the time I had processed all of this, Mouse was already prancing up the road like the proverbial Pied Piper with a line of children behind her. I was left with the parents with their possessions and questions; the boatmen all had their own tasks and were busy unloading onto the dock. Even Amos had disappeared and I found myself surveying the area alone - it wasn’t a bad thing but it was a bit disconcerting.

I gathered the recently recruited around me and started leading them up the trail to Rulo proper, being peppered with questions the entire way. Much to my relief Michelle showed up to take over for me halfway up the bluff. Her timing was perfect because I started to get peppered with updates and questions as soon as we reached the edge of town. We did have a committee set up to handle day-to-day happenings but the problem I faced was that it was the committee that was peppering me. At that point all I wanted was a shower followed by a cold beer.

I was surprised when we had to move off the road for a wagon going down to fetch the cargo from the boat. Holder was riding shotgun and they stopped long enough to explain that they had purchased it off a migrating family. The really good news was that they had lead-lined Lunch to the back of the wagon so I was up in the saddle and ready for a quick trip to a modern bathroom. Off they went again, leaving me to wonder how they’d gotten the wagon across the river. Fabiola Timmons was right there to explain that they had simply dis-assembled the wagon on the east side of the river, put it on top of the boat house and brought it over. The carpenters made quick work of re-assembly and we had our first wagon. So basically we had picked up a new pioneer family and a wagon, the wagon was now property of Rulo Trade & Transport Company.

I started toward home at a quick trot, not really bothering to examine all the changes that happened in the short time I was gone. I’d be right back out again as soon as I cleaned up and said hello to everyone. Aunty and Matilda were there to take over the children so I scooped up Mouse and we headed home with her holding me tightly from behind.

Sadly my shower wasn’t big enough for two so I let her go first while I grabbed a beer, put on some music and cleaned my pistol during the wait. I cleaned that weapon every day and the actions had become so second nature to me that I didn’t have to pay attention unless I’d done a serious amount of shooting. I made it though two songs, a beer and had started sharpening my knife when I realized that Mouse had become a shower water hog in just a month. I had to turn off the music and holler at her to get my turn in the shower.

All-in-all she took almost 45 minutes in the shower and I could see where this was heading. I was just happy that she wasn’t into makeup…yet.