Lake Superior Tales

The Bigg Man It was good to be on dry land. The voyage north had been ugly. He stepped off the ship onto the dock, grateful that the trip was over. Other passengers moved past, all seeming to want to hurry away from the schooner that had taken such a battering. He looked around, taking in the new surroundings. Dock workers were moving to begin unloading the cargo from the schooner, and he walked toward what was the young, remote town. The town had been a spot on the map for many years but only recently had it begun to grow quickly. Sault Sainte Marie was the gateway to Lake Superior. Minerals had been found along Superior and the only way to get them out was through Sault Sainte Marie. Literally. The river that connected Lake Huron and Lake Superior had large rapids and falls, so no ships could pass without either being completely taken out of the water or its cargo transported from one ship on Superior and then to another below the falls southbound to Lake Huron. Nothing passed by here without going through the town itself. He thought about all of this as he headed for town. There certainly would be opportunities here. He smiled to himself. McKnight’s docks. He would have to remember that, after he rested up. Ahead of him, he could see the fort, Fort Brady. The town was centered on the other side. He never did like the military. Better to depend on yourself. He followed the dirt road around the fort and he could see the plank buildings lining the road that made up the main part of town. A saloon was what he needed. He walked past the fur company warehouse and heard the familiar noise on his left. The sign said “Small’s Saloon.” It would do. He took a last look down the street at the people moving about doing those things that they thought were important at the moment. He was pleased that it wasn’t him. He went through the double glass doors and walked straight to the bar. The man behind the bar walked right up. “Hello, I haven’t seen you here before.” “Nope, you haven’t.” “My name’s Jake, Jake Smalls. What’s yours?” He ignored the question “I’ve had a long trip and I just want some whiskey and a few peaceful moments where the floor isn’t constantly shifting. Give me a bottle.” “We don’t have bottles. It’s all in casks. It’s easier to ship that way.” “I don’t think I can drink quite that much.” “Glass or a mug?” “Mug.” Jake went over to one of the three casks he had mounted on the bar and poured out a mug. He handed it to the stranger who took it and went to a corner table and sat where he could look out the window. First impression was that it was a quiet place, though he had heard that it could be dangerous too. He’d done his research before he came. Sault Sainte Marie was a small town in a strategic location on the verge of a boom. There were rumors of gold, silver and copper to the west and all of it would have to come through here. If trouble wasn’t here already, it soon would be. It hadn’t officially become a town yet so there were no rules. The only legal control was from the soldiers at the fort, so it was wide open country with little chance of repercussion. A man could accomplish much here, legal or illegal. The Canadian border ran right down the middle of that river out there, so this could be a smuggler’s paradise. His thoughts were broken by some loud shouting and the entrance of three soldiers from the fort, this obviously not being their first saloon stop. “Smalls! Whiskey! Now!” one of the soldiers shouted at Jake. The stripes on his uniform pegged him as a Corporal. He noticed that Jake was a little on edge with this bunch. One of the soldiers seemed to notice him and nudged the Corporal. “What do we have here? A newcomer. I think we should get acquainted, let’s go over and have our drinks and introduce ourselves to the stranger here.” The stranger just looked at him and then quietly said, “I prefer to drink alone.” “You don’t want to have a drink with us? Here we are trying to welcome you and you won’t have a drink with us?” The corporal and his two friends moved over to his table and stood over him. The room had gotten very quiet. The card game that had been going on in the corner had stopped. This wasn’t how he had pictured his day going. The Corporal spoke again. “My name is Corporal Ferguson. This here is McCann and James. Now, you want to be our friend, because if you’re not our friend, things can be difficult around here. Now what’s your name?” “That’s none of your concern.” The corporal leaned over the table, close enough that his breath was polluting the immediate air. “You don’t get it. We’re the law around here. We can lock you away and throw away the key and nobody is going to ask any questions. Hell, we can dump your body in that river out there and nobody’s going to ask us about it.” The two companions were smiling and laughing. This wasn’t the first time they’d put someone through this The stranger leaned back slightly and said quietly “Really?” “Really.” The Corporal sneered and looked hard at the stranger. That was when the stranger’s hand went out and the Corporal’s head impacted with the table top. He bounced up and flew backwards sitting on the floor. There was blood where his nose was, now flattened out and more was running out his mouth. The two companions began to move forward toward the stranger, but he jumped up and said, “Please do. Now that your Corporal has got me started it’d be a shame to have to stop at just one.” The two looked at each other, weighing their chances while the Corporal was spitting out blood and trying to catch his breath with a smashed nose. “Come on if you’re gonna. You already interrupted my drinking. If you do it again I might get angry and I’d hate to inconvenience the fort doctor like that.” The two men, still standing, backed up, looking at the Corporal. They were obviously not used to thinking for themselves and were looking to him for some direction. “Get me up,” he finally managed to blurt out. The two companions picked him up and steadied him between them. ‘You haven’t seen the last of me,” he hissed. The blow to the head had caused some balance problems. The stranger said, “I suggest you get him back to the fort while you still can.” Someone had given them a direction. Now they knew what to do. They ushered the wobbling Corporal Ferguson out of the saloon and up the street. The stranger finished the whiskey in his mug and brought it up to an amazed Jake Smalls. “I’ve never seen the Corporal handled like that. He’s not going to let that go, you know.” The stranger smiled at Jake. “I’m counting on it. By the way, know of any good boarding houses? I need a good nights sleep.” “Sure. The Hopkins House. You can get coffee and breakfast there in the morning, too.” “Great,” he said as he headed toward the back door. Suddenly, Jake spoke up. “Don’t go out that way.” The stranger turned, slight puzzlement on his face. “I have a pet out back. He helps keep the customers honest. No sneaking out the back way without paying.” He leaned over the bar and whispered to the man. The stranger smiled, then he hesitated, thought for a moment and decided he might as well get it over with. Everyone was going to find out sooner or later anyway. “By the way, the name’s Biggs, Gabriel Biggs.” He didn’t wait for the reaction and headed out the front door and onto the street. He went to the boarding house Jake had suggested. He had been right, clean, nice and inexpensive. His room had a view of the river, he could see the water rushing mad, crazy over the rapids. He could hear the noise of it coming through the walls. It would be good to sleep in a real bed again. He’d had enough of accommodations aboard ship on the journey. Gabriel sat on the bed and pulled off his boots. He’d been wearing them so long it was like they’d become a part of his feet. Finally they came off. He lay back on the bed. Memories of his past came to him briefly, especially those of his old friend Andy Jackson. * * * He woke up with a start. There were six men in his room. There were six rifles pointed at him. His eyes adjusted, seeing the uniforms and a soldier spoke, “Sir, you are under arrest. You are to come with us to the stockade.” Gabriel sat up slowly and said, “I’d prefer to be taken to your Captain.” The soldier shook his head and replied, “Our orders are to take you to the stockade, sir.” Very slowly Gabriel reached over to the nightstand and picked up a piece of paper, “Soldier, please read this,” and handed it to the Private. The Private read for a moment and then looked up. “Yes, sir, I’ll take you to the Captain.” Biggs pulled on his boots and then commented, “I suppose no one brought coffee.” “No, sir,” the Private answered. “Damned uncivilized, waking a man without coffee,” he muttered. * * * Corporal Ferguson came out of the fort’s doctor’s office. The doctor had given him something called laudanum. He said he’d feel better in no time. Both of his eyes had taken on a purple-black hue and his face was swollen in response to his smashed nose. He felt with his tongue, two of his front teeth were loose also. He cursed under his breath. He’d get even with that son of a... His thought was interrupted by a soldier running toward him. The soldier stopped and then said, “Corporal Ferguson, the Captain wants to see you in his office.” If it wouldn’t have hurt so much, the Corporal would have smiled. ‘Now we’d see.’ Ferguson was certain the Captain wanted to know what kind of charges to press. He walked across the compound directly to Captain Tremain’s office. Knocked, heard “Enter,” opened the door and came into the office. He stood at attention and saluted. That was when he noticed the man sitting in a corner, sipping fresh, hot coffee. His feet were propped up and appeared quite relaxed. “Corporal, you don’t look so good,” Tremain commented on Ferguson’s face. “Captain, I ordered this man arrested and I want to press charges for assault.” “So I’ve been told,” replied the Captain. “I’ve also been told that you provoked the assault and that you’re lucky the damage wasn’t worse.” Biggs spoke up, “Excellent coffee, Captain.” “Thank you. Feel free to get some more if you’d like.” Biggs stood up and walked over to the pot that was sitting on the wood stove and poured out a little more while the Captain continued with Ferguson. “Mr. Biggs here has decided not to press charges and bears no grudge.” Ferguson stood, looking straight forward. This was not how he’d expected his morning would turn out. “If I hear of you ever bothering Mr. Biggs again, it’ll be you in the stockade waiting for a court martial, am I clear?” “Yes, sir.” “Also, if you ever order a civilian’s arrest behind my back again, I’ll have you shot. Now get out of here before I change my mind.” Ferguson turned and went out the door. He was seething with anger. Biggs, Biggs, where had he heard that name? No matter, he’d get even. He had his ways. He’d get even with the Captain too, but he already knew how he was going to do that. He’d had a plan for a while and it wouldn’t be long now, the Captain would be powerless and he, Ferguson, would be in charge, rank or no rank. Biggs left Captain Tremain’s office, satisfied. The Captain had done everything Biggs had asked. But then why wouldn’t he, it was all to the Captain’s advantage. Biggs could do things that Tremain couldn’t. Biggs wasn’t hindered by nasty little things like “chain of command” and “orders.” He needed a drink and some information. He went back to Jake Small’s Saloon. Jake smiled as Gabriel came through the door. “I heard you were arrested.”