that Wildman, Groot, and Clarke had all been in his establishment earlier in the day and were likely to return: 'Though if you - or Mr Wallach - have specific business to transact with Manitou I'd suggest a different venue. He comes here for a single purpose, when he comes, and pursues it single-mindedly, and I do not refer -' he glanced down the bar at the whores Veinte-y-Cinco and La Princessa - 'to the pleasures of congenial company. On the occasions when Wildman comes in to make a night of it, it's best to catch him early.'
A shooting contest was forming up on the other side of the path, and while Hannibal improved his acquaintance with the two ladies at the end of the bar, January crossed to observe. 'Steal my mule, hoss, you can't just stand there!' protested Robbie Prideaux, and he offered January the loan of his own piece, a very handsome Lancaster. January had not been a bad shot before - given that no black man in the United States was permitted to own firearms - and had practiced every evening on the trail, and he felt that he didn't acquit himself badly. He felt, moreover, that he deserved extra points for not shooting Jed Blankenship, when that gentleman trumpeted, 'Not bad shootin' for a nigger! Where'd you learn which end of the gun the bullet comes outta, boy?'
'My daddy was Daniel Boone,' January replied blandly. 'You never heard how he was kidnapped by the Barbary Pirates, and rescued an African princess, before he got away by killing ten of the Sultan's guards and building himself a raft of their dead bodies? The only reason my shooting isn't better,' he added modestly - because in fact he'd been outshot by all the trappers and most of the engages at a hundred yards and considered himself lucky to have seen the playing-card target at two hundred and fifty - 'is that I was twelve years old before she sent me to America to learn from him, and he was old then, and his sight was failing. But I'm here to learn.'
A number of the trappers had to cover their mouths to hide huge grins, but Jed - a fair-haired Missourian with an ingratiating manner when he was sober - looked like he believed every word.
'The man's an excrescence,' muttered Sir William Stewart, when Blankenship made off across the path with his slender winnings - from bets on the other contestants as well as on himself - to do them gals a FAVOR!, as he loudly put it. 'I can think of few civilized societies in which he'd be able to prosper as he does here. But I can only assume that the Laws of Nature will eventually deal with him as he deserves: as, indeed, they deal with every man in this land.' The Scotsman studied January's face for a moment, a slight frown pulling at his dark brows, while January - in company with two or three of the trappers - examined the new Manton rifle Stewart had been trying out.
'Orleans Ballroom,' said January, interpreting his glance.
The tall man's face broke into a smile. 'Good heavens, the piano player! What on earth are you doing up here?'
'Trying to keep my house,' said January, and Stewart grimaced.
'It is bleak down there, isn't it? I thought to make a go of it as a cotton broker, but it's hardly the year to try to start any business, is it?' Camp rumor had it that the tall, commanding Scotsman was the heir to a title, a castle and considerable property in his homeland, but despite his blood horses, private loaders and pack-train of civilized amenities like brandied peaches and foie gras, Stewart was an unpretentious man who had won the respect of the trappers by his businesslike attitude and his willingness to do his share of the work on the trail.
'See here - January, isn't it?'
'You can make it Ben - Your Lordship.'
'Not "My Lordship" just yet, thank God; Bill will do. The Company's holding a feast in Jim Bridger's honor tomorrow night, and I meant to ask Sefton if he'd favor us - do you play anything besides piano? You must—'
'You didn't bring one?'
Stewart smote his forehead theatrically, making all the long fringes of his white buckskin jacket flutter. 'Dash it, I knew I was forgetting something!'
'I'm sure if you ask around the camp, someone will have one,' said January comfortingly. 'Or, if that isn't the case, I'm