But still the camp grew, and projects moved. By Saturday night, the town was ready for rest and relaxation, even another celebration, as the big boiler was ready for welding the seams, and the little ones for testing. Monday, as they tested boilers, and the smith did the seams, the work would at last begin upon the beasts, all fourteen she had pairs of apprentices set up to work on and one more that would be her demonstration model for them.
A day off would be great, and as Plum was not in business yet, she asked to use the wagon kitchen to make breakfast for the camp, with two helpers, to learn more about the controls on the steam powered cooking devices, before they opened, and ask her about a fryer for the donuts, and some new ideas there as well. Elisa assented, knowing that an early rising might be an inconvenience for her and Ivan, but still, the chance at the first doughnuts, fresh and still hot from the fryer, with icings or sugar on them was too much to pass up.
Then Elisa shook her head at how like any ranch hand in the region her tastes had become. Foods that once turned her stomach now were the staples of her meals, and those from the cookbooks rarely appeared. Game meat appeared even in her wagon frequently of late, replacing the traditional beef, pork and lamb she ate back east. But the recipes that folks wanted in the cafes were the fancy ones, so her cookbooks seemed to rarely spend time on the shelves, but roam her kitchen and town at will.
Leaving the forge, she found a new foundation dug nearby, in a shape she recognized, and tents along the forge wall, protecting plaster encased bones for their move to the new storage and display area. Each was in wooden cradles or locally made charred cottonwood boxes for the moving even just this far. But more importantly, she noted the record numbers, and gasped. Four mammoths? A glance at the wagon coming up confirmed it, three sets of adult tusks lay out the back of the wagon's bed. Her smile grew. Ivan said nothing this week of these finds, to keep her at the task of teaching, she was sure. This would now cause great celebration tonight, but it was worth it.
Beside the wagon was a white man in all black clothing she did not know at first, the his face took light. That mustache and hair gracing so many of the penny dreadfuls about the cattle drives from North Tejas, the ones that ended with the gun fights in Dodge. James Butler "Wild Bill" Hickok, riding what many in the west called shotgun on the wagon's seat, beside the driver, one knee on the bench, standing on the other leg, watching the horizon. As did Ivan walking beside the cart, and Black Coyote from his horse off to one side, trailing them.
Each man bore a rifle, not the scattergun normally used. Black Coyote doubled the guard that night, and despite the celebration, the main townsfolk did not consume alcohol that night, not even Ivan whose normal flask was noticeably missing. Torches ringed the forge all night, and despite the rising of the sun, the guard remained doubled on the ivory tusks. Night Ivory, it was remembered, had an alter ego, who already attempted the theft of these treasures in various ways.
Breakfast making was a frenzy in her wagon, one that eventually Elisa managed to escape only by offering to fire the boiler with more coal. Pancakes, bacon, eggs boiled, friend and scrambled joined the much anticipated bear sign on the tables brought up from town, and the laughter and conversation stayed light, even the new preacher appeared for a while, smiling, asking all to come to a service he was holding in an open field that afternoon.
Ivan presenter him to her. "Els, this is Reverend Samuels. He comes to bring the word and work among our heathens, he says." Typical of her uncle's generation, Elisa thought, to antagonize and demean the man. But his generation had suffered much over the years from the clergy of many different churches. Burnings, hazing, slander and rumor wars. All were in their tools to make the people turn on necromancers, not to mention the denying of communion. While the Roman Catholic church was urging its priests and lay folk to more tolerance of late, after the horrors of the Inquisition, other churches were stepping up their attacks.
Elisa's encounters with religions often turned hostile over her profession, frowned upon by the clergy for undermining their views of history of the earth, and creation of species. Not to mention the disinterment of remains for the creation of automata. That more than anything set many a preacher at her for crimes of heresy and black magic. A preacher could turn not just the uneducated, but by the numbers he swayed and his own position of power, turn those once on her side.
"Greetings, Reverend. I don't see you wife." This was her main test of a man of the cloth, the most intolerant rarely had their wives in evidence, either losing them, killing them for heresy, or hiding them away from others.
"In your wagon, examining your kitchen, and the two times she has come out, she has pressed me to ask you to design one similar for our wagon, or better a portable one for use in home or wagon, as I often am reassigned by my superiors." The smile was warm, the face genuine. However, reassignments came for many reasons.
So she spoke warily with him, guarding her words with suggestions and turning it more to the steam works, the cafe and food when she could. "Well, the costs are largely materials for a wagon model, and the tubing for the heating coils. I had not considered such for a portable unit, steam is dangerous if not contained in walls, but yes, it could be done." She relaxed a bit, and sought information as to his history. "Is it common to be transferred from parish to parish often in your faith?"
The smile faltered a bit, but looking around it resumed. His answer was soft, though, pitched for her ears only. "Those of us deemed soft on necromancy by the bishops tend to be moved, to drive us out of the faith." He shook his head. "But as I also served as a surgeon's assistant during the war, and just became a doctor of medicine as well as one of theology, they need me for missions like this, to come among our native brethren and give them the word of God and Jesus' preaching."
The young necromancer gave him a long second glance after the first statement. "Soft on necromancy? How so?"
"One cannot be a doctor of medicine and not see the wonders that just a steam cleaning of our tools does when operating. That alone saved many lives in the war, and the book does tell us to preserve lives when we can and blesses those who do so. I just believe that the Lord meant indirectly, by inventing autoclaves and the like, as well as directly as the surgeons operations."
Elisa relaxed, "So you are not hell on my profession."
"Only those who dig up and resurrect human remains. Disturbing consecrated ground is a major sin, not to mention the pain that act does to the souls in heaven and hell." He looked around. "My wife really would like that stove, miss. Let me know how much one costs, please."
"Business on a sunday? Strange from a preacher." Elisa had to laugh.
Still, he pressed her. "Just a man needing to keep the peace in his wagon, the missus sorely pines after a stove, we lost ours crossing the Raccoon River in Ioway."
And that told her much, a man that placed his peace at home over that with his bishops was not one her folk need fear, unless they crossed the line into the dark arts. "We recently dealt with some who were wanted for the crimes you say are the ones you cannot abide."
His face grew somber. "Yes, we saw the hangings in Council Bluffs, as well the bodies of those that supplied them in Omaha, laid out for display. That part I do not find Christian, but I did not make a fuss. Killing the men was enough, making exhibits of them and charging coins reeks of what Christ came to end."
"I see. I agree also." She paused a moment. "Unfortunately, there will be more dealing with those darker aspects of my arts. You may hear rumors, come to me if you do, I will lay out what we know, and who we suspect."
The face went dark. "Ma'am, we already have heard the rumors. I grew up in Canton back Ohio way. Tobias Fuller is a name known to me. And a disgrace to his kinfolk there."
"Come by the forge tomorrow, with your wife, about noon time. I have a class to work with in the morning, but I can start designing her kitchen for her then." Even as she said it, Elisa realized that perhaps having some of the tribal youth learn the practical, not just the locomotive and automata design and build concepts might be better for the town and people, creating jobs and giving them an export to the States. She smiled as she excused herself, seeking the elders and some students to propose the idea to.
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