Joel snorted. “He don’t follow orders well.”

“We need provisions,” Will protested. “We have to go on.”

Joel blew a puff of smoke, then said, “Drew does what he likes. Not much of a soldier, if you ask me.”

From beneath his blanket, Jonah murmured, “Suits me. I like seeing the country.”

“Hah,” Joel said. “Say that again when our mules are fully loaded after we hit Boise.”

The messengers were gone when Will awoke on the morning of September 4. Drew’s unit continued through Jordan Creek Valley. They reached the creek that evening, then camped on Jordan Creek for three nights, letting the wagons and their teams rest while Drew and a few of his men explored the region.

Once again, Joel waxed on about how Drew wasn’t following orders. “We’s supposed to be headed to Klamath, and he’s restin’ on the way to Boise? This is just like when he didn’t bother arrivin’ in Klamath until late July. The man is a law unto himself.”

“But the wagons can’t travel—” Will said.

“He could let the wagons fend for themselves,” Joel argued. “They ain’t a part of his mission. His first orders were for a reconnaissance expedition, and now his orders are to return to Klamath. He ain’t done either with any speed.”

Jordan Creek itself was a series of pools with dry stretches in between. The larger pools were deep and full of fish, with willows growing along the banks.

While the others lay near their campfires, Drew asked Will to scribe for him. “You thought any more about what I said?” Drew asked.

“Sir?” Will didn’t know what Drew meant.

“About the Army.” Drew was already drinking, though it was only midafternoon. “You’re the type of young man the Army needs.”

“I’m not sure I want to fight Indians, sir,” Will said.

Drew squinted at him. “That’s our responsibility, boy. We must protect the Christian whites who want to profit from this land.”

Will couldn’t help glancing outside the tent at the barren land.

Drew barked a laugh. “Well, this valley’s a little dry for settlers, except for right along the creek,” he acknowledged. “But much of Oregon is prime land, wouldn’t you say?”

“I know lots of farmers making a good living,” Will agreed. “Jonah Pershing’s family, for example.”

“And they couldn’t farm if they faced savages rampaging through their claims, could they?”

“No, sir,” Will said. “But my father told me the Indians were generally responding to wrongs done to them by white men.”

Drew snorted. “You got some growing up to do, son. Understand the white man’s place in the world.” He waved his cigar at Will. “You do that, you’ll be a credit to the Army.”

“What about the treaty negotiations?” Will ventured to ask.

“What about them?” Drew said.

“Your orders—”

“My orders are mine to deal with. I know enough about the tribes in these parts to have some concern about how the negotiations might proceed.” But that was all Drew offered on the subject.

Will didn’t want to press him any further. He couldn’t tell if the colonel supported treaty negotiations or thought them pointless. He left his session with Drew more confused than ever.

On the expedition’s first evening on Jordan Creek, settlers living in the area joined them in camp. “We sleep here near the creek every night,” one man told the militia members. “We mine during the day, or farm our fields, but we come together for protection at night.”

“What about your mining supplies and farm implements?” Drew asked.

“We just hope they’re there in the morning. But them murderin’ varmints done killed enough of us already. Better our goods is stolen than we die.”

“Do you mean the local tribes have killed whites in the area?” Drew asked the man.

“Yes, sir. They done killed Jordan back in the spring, along with several other men.”

“Who was Jordan?” Drew asked.

“He found this valley, started the placer mine.” The man gestured at the rest of the group. “We all followed him. It’s good prospectin’ land, but we can’t live in peace with the tribes on the rampage.”

“Jordan,” Drew mused, as if he were trying to remember. “Ah, yes. I remember hearing of the incident. Colonel Maury from Fort Boise forayed here when he learned of Jordan’s death.”

“Yes, sir, he did,” the prospector said. “But he and his men was too late. We’d gone after the murderin’ bastards, but they got away.”

“So now you’re waiting for them to attack again?” Drew asked.

“That’s why we band together.” The man nodded. “We aim to keep our scalps, even if they steal our tools.”

“What would you need for better protection from the Army?” Drew asked.

The prospectors went into a lengthy description of the need for a military presence in the valley. “Them Indians rendezvous about forty miles south of here. We need cavalry right there, where the soldiers can guard the Humboldt route and the mines in this valley.”

Drew told Will to write down what they heard. “I’ll add the prospectors’ perspective into my report.”

The next morning, while the emigrants and packers rested their animals, Drew took his soldiers and Will to visit the mines. They followed the prospectors who had stayed with them the night before.

The placer mines were concentrated in a small area near Little Jordan Creek. As they stopped at one miner’s digs, Drew asked the prospector, “How much gold do you pull out of the ground in a day?”

“’Bout fifty dollars at most,” was the reply. “Usually less’n that. A lot of silver mixed in the ore. More silver than gold. We make a livin’, though we ain’t got rich yet.”

“Yet you keep mining,” Drew mused aloud.

The cavalry squad rode through the district and found a few quartz mines beginning to replace the placer mines. Drew swept an arm to encompass the land they saw. “Quartz mining will take over the entire district within a year,” he told Will. “They can be worked more cheaply. These men already have mills that will be ready to work within weeks. But the region won’t prosper until they can get machinery in here to purify the metal before it’s shipped.”

That evening, when they were back in camp, Drew dictated, “I agree with the prospectors that this valley and its citizens deserve the Army’s protection. With the numbers of tribesmen passing through and rendezvousing at the head of the valley, a military outpost could well be justified.”