The next morning went off without a hitch, which is to say, it was organized mayhem. The Pawnee traveled annually, so they were used to this, but even when things are going well it looks like a mess from a distance. Petalesharo and his family were joining us, along with a handful of warriors who would raid and scout on their way back to the lodge village. The Chief had decided we needed an escort and Pete was assigned the task.

The Chief even showed up to wish us luck, or maybe it was to say goodbye to his daughter. He explained to me, via Pete, that when Pete returned, he was to bring the Chief's new dog with him. There was a bit of consternation when I shook my head “No,” and tried to explain that training took time. It turned out it was easier to show him and I simply put Brin through his paces. Brin was pretty advanced and knew almost fifty commands. He still struggled with a few of the trickier ones that required him to go out and do something and retain focus on the task. He was just a dog, after all, and what he lacked in intellect, he more than made up for with higher qualities like loyalty, bravery, and love.

The reality slowly dawned on the Chief and the value of Brin went up a lot in his eyes. A highly trained dog held considerable value and probably more so, back then.

We set off without affair. Pete led the way and the rest of us trailed along behind. I was setting my horse, but I could tell that by the end of the day I was going to be stiff, sore, and exhausted. I still had a way to go in the healing process, but the need to get home pressed upon me. Pete’s kids played on the trail as we travelled, until they tired, and then they would climb onto the fur travois and rest. The women mainly walked alongside, watching the children and chattering amongst themselves. I could clearly hear the unmistakable babble of Banshee in the group. The warriors took turns ranging out to scout or simply riding escort. It was a pretty sedate journey overall.

Setting up camp for the night was more well-organized mayhem and it was fun to watch. The tepees went up faster than you would expect and everyone seemed to know what to do. Everyone except me. I figured out that I should care for our horses first and foremost. We had seven in our string now, so it took a little time with my gimpy left side. I was quite sore from a day in the saddle and walking it out wasn’t exactly easy.

Supper was a mixture of freshly gathered flatbread, greens, rabbit, and fish from the nearby stream. This time of year, the bounty of the land was plentiful and really quite tasty. The evening was sedating with chatting around the fire and the men all pulling shifts on guard duty. I had to take a moment and give Mary her treatment. I was tempted to skip it, but keeping the message daily and consistent was actually showing some progress, even this early in. We had chatted a bit during the day; I focused on the Ten Commandments as the basis of good or evil. Her reliance on other scripture was far too high in her guilt assessment and I needed to address that.

**** ****

Morning went even smoother than the previous day and we would camp this afternoon just outside of the fort and its fields. We’d visit the actual fort the next morning. Supper was mostly from our packs that night. The pickings had slimmed as we approached the fort and its camp follower village. Pete had us set up in a spot well clear of the mess that had emerged around the fort.

I knew that Fort Atkinson was the western Headquarters for the Army. It was also the largest of all troop stations in the country in 1822. The US didn’t have a standing army at that point, so the 1,250 troops at Fort Atkinson was a lot. To go along with the troops, there were a couple of thousand camp followers and the like. This was the fact anywhere: set up a garrison and a village will appear nearby overnight. That village wouldn’t necessarily be the most wholesome of places. In total, there were about five thousand people in and around Fort Atkinson in the early 1820’s. That would change quickly as Fort Leavenworth was established down south, but for now this was it.

The routine of the road had set in quickly and the evening passed according to routine. Including Mary’s treatment. We still had to bind her at night, which soothed her dreams for some reason, but we only loosely tied her hands with thin strips of brightly colored cloth. That was something to be dealt with later. For now, we just gave her what she needed.

**** ****

On a bright and clear Monday morning, Pete, myself, and two other warriors set off for the fort. Everyone else stayed at the camp, including enough of Pete’s men to guard it. We were loaded down with trade goods and I had a few nuggets of gold and silver in my pocket. The remainder of my hoard remained hidden at the camp. It was time to schmooze some bigwigs and do some shopping.

The gates were open on our arrival and the fort was bustling with activity; there were lots of soldiers doing soldier things with a sense of importance. I knew that feeling and the memory made me smile.

Our first stop was the command post to pay our respects to the commander. We lucked out and caught him outside, sitting on the porch of his office. He was smoking a pipe and chatting with another senior officer. I wasn’t the only man in the world who liked a morning sit in the sun with tobacco and coffee.

Petalesharo knew the man and had worked with his commanders as a scout; he was greeted warmly by LtCol. Leavenworth as we walked up. Leavenworth was a so-so troop commander, but an exceedingly good logistician and administrator. The battles he commanded never seemed to have a positive outcome, with most ending in stalemates that accomplished nothing except the creation of a bunch of new graves.

He was a politician and had served as an Indian Agent before he was appointed here. That pretty much guaranteed he was corrupt. He was also famous for his involvement in a lot of treaties being breached, betraying most of the tribes and starting multiple Indian Wars. I suspected he was in the pocket of the Hudson Bay Company, but it was never proven. His betrayal of his current ally, the Pawnee would be the death of him in the end, even if the Pawnee were defeated and swept from their tribal lands. I had a higher opinion of Benedict Arnold than I did of Henry Leavenworth. Nevertheless, I played nice.

I properly introduced myself and accepted the proffered cup of coffee. We made small talk for a half an hour before I made my play.

“Colonel Leavenworth, I’d like to meet with your Quartermaster and Purser, if you would allow it,” I asked politely.

“Mr. Narrater, what would my quartermaster and purser have to offer a man such as yourself? The trading posts and mercantile shops outside of the fort can easily meet your needs.” That was a very dismissive counter from a rather snobby man.

“I don’t believe they can, Colonel,” I said carefully, “I desire to do a currency trade which I believe would be better handled by an agent of the US Government itself.”

Well now, that got his attention and got it fast. The effete snob was gone and the greedy status climber raised his ugly head. He leaned forward with interest now. “Please go on, sir, and call me Henry.”

“Henry, I happen to have in my possession an amount of shiny metal which is considered hard currency throughout the world. I wish to exchange it for American dollar coins, assuming the price is agreeable.”

“Mr. Narrater, I do believe we can accommodate you in this matter.” Hook, line and sinker. His greed was obvious and I intended to use that to my advantage. A runner was sent off to fetch the Quartermaster.

I happened to know that the US Government was desperate for gold and silver after the disastrous tussle with England in 1812. They were issuing dollar-denominated coins and bearer bonds to drum up enough resources to settle their debts. The dollar was still considered a trash currency at the time and was almost worthless outside of the US. I planned to buy them at a deep discount, with the net effect of doubling my money, because, while people like Leavenworth thought the dollar was pointless, I knew it would only gain in strength from this point forward

Leavenworth simply planned to skim any deal we made and report different amounts back up the channel, while still being congratulated for acquiring the resource.

Time travelling did have its advantages and I knew that the US Dollar would never be devalued.