River of Red Gold - Softcover

West, Naida

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0965348725 ISBN 13: 9780965348720

Publisher: Bridge House Books, 1996

Synopsis

The California Gold Rush as you never imagined (1844-1853) based on a true story. All characters are real, named unchanged. This epic novel brings to life Donner Party survivors, Sutter and his Sacramento fort, the first actual gold strikes, paradise lost and the unsettling of the West. For countless generations Grizzly Hair's people have lived peacefully on the land by the Cosumnes River. Former British sailor Perry McCoon stakes his claim and brings Elitha, his 14-year-old Donner bride. Vaquero Pedro Valdez loves Grizzly Hair's daughter Maria (Indian Mary), and desires the land for his own rancho. But initially McCoon possesses her and the land. Then Mexico loses the war, Condor's robe is stolen and the stampede for gold tramples all before it. Elitha and Indian Mary become soul-mates as miners turn the earth upside down and the river runs red with blood. Fighting bigotry with gun and lasso, Pedro rides with the bandit Joaquin Murieta. Told through Pedro, Indian Mary and Elitha Donner, the story and its surprise end will haunt readers.

Passionate love and enduring friendships in a time of violence and vengeance. Familial love thwarted but never diminished. Pedro, Maria and Elitha -- people of three cultures guided and misguided by those who walked before.

Whispers to the modern soul of rootlessness, sacrifices to gold, the curse of the Condor. Yet through it all sing the eternal voices of the land and river, promising hope and tranquility to those who will listen. 624 pages.

About this title

About the Author

A life-long poet, Naida West, Ph.D., lives on the remnant of the once-large ranch in the California Gold Country where the main characters lived 150 years ago. Born in Idaho, she lived on farms and ranches, then graduated from high school in Carmel, California and worked in Big Sur, meeting Henry Miller and the "Beat" writers who were there. In Germany, she interpreted from German to English, then returned to the U.S. to acquire degrees from the UC Berkeley, Cal State U at Sacramento, and a Ph.D. in sociology from UC Davis. After several years of teaching college and publishing in her field, while rearing three children, she switched careers and for a decade consulted in Sacramento on issues related to CA government the environment. During that time she and her husband acquired the historic ranch. As always in each place she lived, West made a personal connection with the land. She studied the native plants and read about the native people. But this time what she learned became a full-time passion. "Some wonder why a sociologist would turn to history," West says. She quotes sociologist C. Wright Mills. "Sociology is the intersection between history and biography. That's exactly what I'm after in River of Red Gold -- three very different people in a turbulent time."

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

[From Part I] Underwater, stroking along the bottom, she opened her eyes to watch the slack-jawed salmon, then popped up near the island and pushed back her hair. Sun sparkled across the wrinkled skin of the blue water . . .

The bushes thrashed. A sombrero and pale shirt pushed through the thicket. She blinked. No one at the festival wore a shirt and pantalones. Had Pedro Valdez come to return her things? The man came to the water's edge, which was hidden from the beach, and she knew by the sling of the hip -- one boot on an outcropping, long gun in his hand -- it wasn't Pedro. And too slender for Captain Sutter. The face was darkened by the hat, but she felt she had seen him before.

Looking her way, he sat down on a rock shelf, gun over his knees. She felt his eyes, and her skin prickled with fright, but she watched and continued treading water. No doubt he had seen the ti- kel game, and hadn't caused trouble there. As she faced him her fear dissolved to curiosity, and she decided to go closer. She slipped into the current kicking downstream, carried by the water, stroking only few times. The bottom came up rapidly. Rocks met her knees and she found footing.

The stranger had deep blue eyes, as if holes had been bored in his head and the sky came through. Looking calmly from those eyes as she stood up with water sheeting from her body, he smiled in a lopsided way, causing a cunning dimple to appear in his cheek. She thought she remembered him from the fort, but if he'd come to capture her, he didn't act like it. He was a handsome man with a perfectly straight nose, a man in his prime. But he smelled bad.

"Hello, pretty lass," he said.

She heard the friendliness in his voice. She stepped closer, from submerged rock to rock, a breeze prickling her wet limbs with gooseflesh.

He patted the boulder beside him, smiling in an inviting way.

She remained standing and asked in Spanish, "Where are you going?"

He opened his hands like he was sorry he couldn't understand.

"You come to our Cos fiesta?"

He shrugged again and said, "No palaver."

He didn't speak Spanish.

He placed his gun on the bank behind and tilted his teasing smile toward her."Palaver poco," he said, and she understood the word for little. "Bonita," he said. Pretty. He brushed his gaze down her length. Unlike other Americanos, he had no bush of hair on his face; the clean lines showed. His brown hair, tied neatly at the nape of his neck, make a wavy tail down his pale shirt. His smile dazzled.

"Wot's the nime o' this plaice?" he said, gesturing up river.

She marveled that people made such strange sounds.

She smiled and nodded, but he needed a bath. In the spirit of the Cos festival she laughed and grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the water.

He lurched to his feet. "Wait a minute," he said, throwing his sombrero on his gun. He sat down and yanked off his boots and placed his bone-white feet in the water.

She pulled him up again, but he stopped and undid the square of buttons at his front, letting his pants drop, then tugged his shirt over his head -- the stench not unlike Captain Sutter's -- and tossed everything over his boots and gun. She marveled at the skin below his neck -- white as Coyote Man in his ash paint, with dark hair under his arms and on his chest and around his man's part. Hair grew on his legs too, like on Captain Sutter, but on his man it was black against white. It looked preposterous, clownlike, and she couldn't hold back a giggle. Wrinkling her nose at the bad smells, she yanked him toward deeper water. He came haltingly, picking his way over rocks. She pulled him upstream against the current, now to his knees, and laughed to see a man walking like a baby holding its mother's hand. His attention never left his footing.

At the deep water where the bathing pool spread before them, she tugged his hand. He braced his feet on a submerged rock, upon which he struggled to stand, and shook his head in solid refusal. But he was only just above his knees in the river, and he looked so precarious on the slippery rock and acted so serious, it struck her as hilarious.

On shore, toddlers and their mothers watched in awe from between the racks of drying salmon. Could he be afraid of them? But she knew how to get people into the festival mood. She dog- paddled around his rock. He turned and looked at her with questions in his blue eyes and, she realized with a new seizure of giggles, he didn't know what she was about to do. Any of the home men would have.

She shoved him off his rock, plunged on top and held him under. He thrashed and grabbed at her, but she held on, sputtering laughter, and thought maybe he knew this game after all. He wasn't really trying to get to the surface. Sometimes men pretended to struggle in water fights as a way of showing they liked a woman. She hooked an arm around his chin and swam strongly, towing him face down under water against the force of the flow. He thrashed ineffectively. She smiled. Soon he would be clean.

She pulled him through the braided current to the calm place where she'd first seen him. He had assumed a limp posture, and she admired the length of time he could hold his breath; but she tensed for a surprise move, perhaps a sudden burst out of the water with both hands pushing her head down in retaliation. She knew that trick. But her smile faded as another possibility began to dawn on her.

Edition details

• Publisher: Bridge House Books
• Publication date: 1996
• Language: English
• ISBN 10: 0965348725
• ISBN 13: 9780965348720
• Binding: Paperback
• Edition number: 2
• Number of pages: 626