“Go on.”
David took a sip, nodded his approval. “An ironclad, the CSS Mississippi, was inbound to Vicksburg with a bunch of Confederate prisoners. These were mostly deserters who were set to hang to discourage others from getting the same idea during the siege. One of Davis’s most trusted men took the opportunity to load the treasury onto the ironclad. During the process, the river battleship was fired upon. The prisoners broke free and took control of the Mississippi.”
Virginia poured hot chicken soup from a Stainless-Steel Thermos into a cup, and offered it to David. “You want something to warm you while you speak?” she asked. “It’s a ration pack mixture, but it’s not bad.”
David took it. “Thanks.”
Tom asked, “Where did the ironclad go?”
“It headed north. At the time there was a blockade of nine Union vessels to the south, making it impossible to retreat into Confederate waters. They turned the ship north and kept going. It is my belief that the prisoners, having realized they were now running from the Confederacy and the Union, attempted to flee to Canada.”
“How?”
David took a sip and smiled. “Not bad. Anyway, they’d have headed north along the Mississippi River, changing to the Missouri at St. Louis, and taking it as far north as possible.”
“How far do you think that would have been back in 1863?”
“I’ve done my research. The CSS Mississippi was state of the art at the time with a draft of only nine feet, she was surprisingly light and nimble. She could have outpaced any other ironclad on the rivers and my guess is she did just that, running from anyone who attempted to attack or approach her. With such a shallow draft, it would be difficult, but not impossible for her to reach modern day South Dakota, possibly even North Dakota and on to Montana given enough time. That far north, it would have been unlikely they were still being pursued.”
Sam thought about that for a moment. The fire was burning down to embers. Tom pushed to his feet, picked up a driftwood log and laid it down gently on the fire. He dropped down cross-legged before the fire, and started picking on the mixed nuts.
“So you’re saying Holman thinks he spotted the pyramid-shaped pilothouse of a Confederate ironclad in North Dakota?” Tom asked, voicing the question Sam was about to ask.
“Yes.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “But in the nearly nine decades since he was murdered, no one has spotted any sign of the CSS Mississippi along the Missouri River or any other tributary throughout North Dakota?”
“That’s right.”
“How do you explain that, given we’re obviously not the only two people to know about those vast sums of gold?”
David finished his soup, put the bowl down. “I don’t know.”
Sam mentally pictured the upper Missouri River. “For that matter, if an ironclad did indeed reach the Dakotas back in 1863, why isn’t there any record of it?”
“What do you mean? They were escaping. They weren’t trying to publicize their travel destination.”
“No, but think about it. Heading north along the Mississippi River, from Vicksburg, they would have turned into the Missouri River.”
“So?”
“So,” Sam said. “Even back in 1863 the river would have taken them past Jefferson City, Kansas City, Sioux City, and Fort Randal. All of which, would have had permanent lookouts, not to mention lots of surprised citizens, even then. It would be impossible for the sight of a Confederate ironclad to go unnoticed. Any ideas how to explain that?”
David smiled. “None.”
“Yet you’re still certain?”
“Why?”
David swallowed heavily. “All I can say is I’m a hundred percent certain the ironclad existed, and it carried the bulk of the Confederate treasury north along the Missouri River. That gold is now buried nearby the CSS Mississippi, which became stuck somewhere in the Dakotas. Based on what I’ve read in Jack Holman’s journal. He spotted the pyramid shaped casement or pilothouse of that ironclad to the east of North Dakota.”
“You know an awful lot about this ship’s secret past.” Sam smiled. “What the hell aren’t you telling me?”
David crossed his arms, his eyes focusing on the still water of Dog Lake. “I don’t want to say.”
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
Sam stood up, dusted off his pants, and offered his hand in a friendly gesture. “Okay, we’ll be off, then. Good luck with your treasure hunt. It appears you’ll be all right on your own.”
Tom pushed to his feet once more. “Yeah, probably best we take off before the wind shifts.”
David jumped to his feet, ostensibly to stop Sam and his friends from leaving. “Hey, I need your help, I can pay well. I’m willing to split the gold.”
Sam shook his head. “I’m not interested in the money. I have a rule: never search for treasure with people you can’t trust. I don’t have many rules, but that one I tend to follow. It comes from the old days of pirates and their bounties. Everyone knows you can’t trust a pirate. I don’t trust liars. Period. And I don’t trust you.”
“All right, all right!” David opened his backpack and removed the firm, leather bound, locked journal. He unlocked it, laying it upon a dry log well-lit from the fire. He flicked through more than a dozen old pages. Some of the dates spanned the 1870s through to 1920s. He found what he was after, removed a folded piece of paper, and handed it to Sam. “I know the gold made it this far north along the Missouri River because of this.”
Sam took it. His eyes had barely glanced at the page, before he inhaled in surprise. Lips pursed, he shook his head.
“What is it?” Virginia asked.
There in front of him was an exact photocopy of the map Virginia had shown him back in New York.
Chapter Forty-Nine
All four of them settled down around the fire again, prepared to hear the whole story.
Over the course of the next hour Sam listened as David explained that the surviving prisoners of the CSS Mississippi had indeed tried to flee to the north in a bold attempt to reach Canada.
Lies and secrets poured like water from a breaking dam. It might take a while for the first one to spill, but once the dam bursts, they flow like a river.
David said, “There were a number of problems they hadn’t taken into account. The first of which was food and supplies. There were nearly twenty people to feed on board and very few supplies. This meant they would need to make regular stops to hunt for food. Up until Kansas City, this could be successfully achieved by raiding livestock from farms which ran alongside the Missouri River, but from Sioux City onward, the region was still predominantly occupied by Sioux Native American tribes, including the Dakotas, Lakotas, and Nakotas.”
Sam said, “They were attacked as soon as they left the safety of the river?”
“Exactly. Even on the river the Sioux Indians could have easily overrun them, but they had no reason to attack. The ironclad appeared formidable, with little to gain from attacking it. The escaping prisoners from the CSS Mississippi were lucky, in the sense that they were simply allowed to pass through their tribal lands.”
“So why didn’t they make it all the way through to Montana?” Sam asked. “I thought the Upper Missouri River from the Dakotas through to Montana was easily navigable by early paddle steamers?”
“They were, but you have to remember, no one on board the ironclad had ever been that far north. These were Confederate men — mostly prisoners through desertion — and they had no understanding of the topography of the Missouri River or the lands throughout the Dakotas and Montana.”