It was a sweltering hot Sunday afternoon in mid July. Suzanne and the kids were helping me to hoe weeds from around the corn. Stopping to wipe the sweat from my forehead, I heard something rustling through the tall grass. A small grey possum ran past my foot. It had triggered something within me causing a tingling feeling that spread across my body in waves, followed by the slowing of time. Before I could speak, my breath cut short. Everything slowed to a crawl. In that uncomfortable confined place, I couldn’t move or breathe. I passed beyond this world feeling light as a feather. Colors seemed bit more brilliant than before as I sat upon the crumbling porch beside large stone columns of the ruins of a southern style mansion. The beautiful enigma Cassandra stood beside me, wiping the long flowing black hair from her face. George at her feet tugged at her gown. A large flock of crows circled in the sky and settled in a grove of trees surrounding us.

Cassandra turned and raised her hand to the sky. The crows flew to the ground, transforming into young naked men and women. Some looked vaguely familiar. They approached me smiling with welcoming arms to embrace me.  As they touched me it awakened memories of having journeyed with these people before. Our ancient tribe was once again reunited, we were here to play the game.

A discussion of sorts took place upon Cassandra’s porch about where and when we should go, and more importantly which character should we play. One of the rules of the game is that once you incarnate as a particular person, you won’t remember anything of your previous lives.  Another rule is when souls incarnate into a body or character, “anima ex machina,” they are given free will to create their own timeline, being that the past is not fixed but fluid. It is said to be one of the holy acts of creation. However those belonging to the tribe will feel an overwhelming desire to seek each other out.

As the discussion continued, one man expressed wanting to experience pain and hardship. Someone else was willing to be a character that would make that experience happen. Another woman wanted to explore the feeling of being wanted and popular. Then another women chose be her mother. Others wanted to play the villain while others wanted to be the hero.

Cassandra took me aside and held my hand. “The key in your left hand is ethereal. For some reason it has called the tribe to gather for this next incarnation. It is a separate entity capable of acting on its own free will upon you and the rest of the tribe. The key will choose the time, place and physical body that fits your desire.”

After a long discussion everyone joined hands. The symbol on my left hand lit up and glowed with a blinding light. Waves of light rippled through us. I felt myself falling through darkness. It was somewhat terrifying and somewhat thrilling. All of us moving through darkness as one group and then…I forgot myself.

     Summer 1774

Ridgley Plantation, Maryland Colony

I awoke from a recurring dream that has haunted me from childhood. Standing in a field with a lovely woman and two children. Perhaps my wife and family, but there was no romantic love. Then something about circling crows and a beautiful mysterious dark haired woman dressed in a tunic. I opened my eyes. My back hurt from lying on the lumpy bed of burlap sacks stuffed with straw. My body ached and my stomach growled from lack of food. I wanted to return to the dream. It was so much better than the reality that awaited me at dawn. “Dammit I’ll never get back to sleep now,” I mumbled, trying not to wake the others. The hunger gnawed at my gut and my arms ached along with my heartbeat, thud thud thud…

I close my eyes and try to go back to sleep, but it feels like my body just can’t stop going through the motions of hoeing tobacco. Why is it that when a man works hard all day long, that he has to do it again in his sleep? It ain’t right I thought. It was still quite dark as I lay awake, my eyes open, dreading the dawn and the terrible heat and hard work that comes after it. Only twenty years old and all I think of is death. A person my age shouldn’t be having these thoughts. I just want it all to stop. I think those who perished on the ship were luckier than me. They say that if you take your own life, you will be condemned to eternal damnation, but how could it be much worse than this. The only bit of hope that kept me going this long was the idea of freedom after paying off my debt to society. But can I hold on that long? I guess nobody here at the Ridgely plantation would miss me if I just up and died.

Morning came soon enough when they rousted us up and drug us back to the fields. We were given a cold cabbage soup and stale bread. My stomach still ached. The first rays of the sun only made the morning feel hotter as we hoed the weeds from around the tobacco plants that surrounded me.

The day grew unbearably humid with not even a breeze to stir a couple of leaves. I watched as they drug old Clarence out of the field by his legs. Everybody else just kept on working as if nothing had happened. He had been sick and having trouble breathing, but they sent him out to the fields anyway. He only had six months left of his contract, but the master wanted as much work as he could get out of him. He claimed to be in his late thirties, but he looked much older to me. Tall, and thin as a rail, his hair had already turned white except for the very top. Most of his teeth just rotted out of his head. He told me just two days prior that he didn’t expect to live out the week. Danged if he wasn’t right. It scared me, because my ribs were showing more each day and my britches were getting so loose on me. Either starvation or being worked to death was going to be my end soon enough. Old Clarence was my closest friend and the sight of seeing him drop out in the fields made me feel poorly. In a daze I continued on without saying a word. I was broken. As darkness fell they led us back from the fields to our small dirty shacks. We were fed the second and last meal of the day: of a small potato, cabbage soup and a small piece of dry corn bread. I gobbled it down in no time and collapsed upon my straw mat, but in my dreams I was still hoeing weeds.

The next day as we labored in the hot fields, that little weasel, Master Sinclair, sitting all high and mighty up on his white horse came galloping in, leading a new shipment of workers out to the fields to join us. I counted at least fifteen men, nine of them were black as coal and they didn’t seem to know how to speak a lick of English. I heard a little commotion and looked up. The foreman got off his horse yelling at one of the young negro men trying to explain how to use a hoe.  Foreman reached for his whip when an older black man grabbed up the boy and showed him what to do. The foreman laughed. I turned away and continued to work.

At midday we were given water and all us workers rested in the shade of some trees. I sat down on the cool grass and a boy nearly my age sat down next to me. He was a gangly kid with reddish brown hair and blue eyes.

“Hi, What is your name?” he said.

“Silas Grundy,” I said wiping the sweat from my eyes. “Who be you?”

“I’m Jeremiah McCallister. I just arrived here a few days ago from Ireland. Where do you hail from?”

“London, I didn’t come here by choice. I was arrested for stealing a lousy loaf of bread. If I can last four more years, they say I would have paid off my debt to society, but I doubt I can last that long.”  

I saw the gleam in his eye disappear. “How long have you been here?” he asked.

“Three years come this fall, but it was a hard three years. So, Jeremiah, why are you here?”

“I wanted to start a new life and own me a piece of land someday. I just didn’t have the money and this was the only way I knew how,” he said rubbing his hands. “I ain’t got no family.”

“I say you made a poor choice if you ask me. This place is hell and it ain’t getting any better.”

Noah, The old white haired negro sat down next to us along with the shy boy who almost got beaten. “Minds we sits down hyear next ya boys?” the old black man said. Noah was wearing old dirty overalls much too big for him with a rope tied around his waist. The short black boy smiled slightly showing the prettiest white teeth and sat down behind Noah. “Silas, this hyear be  Hosiah, but his African name be Osahar. Dat means dah lord listens. Hosiah is from a neighboring village back home and he tell me stories of people I ain’t thought of since I’s a boy. He bring tears of joy to this old man’s eyes he does.”

Jeremiah sat quietly next to me. “Nice to meet you Hosiah. And this young lad sitting beside me is my dear old friend Jeremiah all the way from Ireland. Can you believe he chose to come work here all on his own?” I said all sarcastically.  

Hosiah sat smiling and nodding. Noah started talking to him in some strange language. Then Noah said, “He says glad to meet you too. He also  say that you must have been kicked in the head by a cow for choosing to come work here.” For some reason that made me smile.

Jeremiah smiled and stuck out his hand to greet them. “Nice to meet you Hosiah, and you also Noah.”

We sat for about ten minutes until the foreman came by and gave Hosiah a kick that knocked him off a log he was sitting on. “Get back to the fields if you know what’s good for you,” he yelled.

I jumped up and started walking. I knew what it was like to be beaten and this foreman would do it without hesitation. Jeremiah followed close behind like a puppy. He seemed to take a liking to me. Walking back to the fields I kept thinking about the new friends I’d made. There was something about meeting Jeremiah and Hosiah that gave me new reason to hope.

That night after working all day in the field, Jeremiah took a small bunk next to me. It was the one that old Clarence used to sleep in till he up and died in the heat. Jeremiah sat on the edge of his bed looking at his bloody hands.

“My hands hurt so bad. I can hardly move my fingers,” he said grimacing.

“Let me see.” I took one of his hands and looked it over. “Those blisters look bad. I think we have some salve to put on it.”

He looked like he was going to cry. I got some water and washed off the dirt and then applied the salve. I liked the feel of his hands in mine. I tenderly wrapped them in some old cloth and told him to keep it on all night. I assured him he would get calluses soon enough. As soon as he laid down he fell off to sleep. I was starting to take a special liking to the boy who was not much younger than me. I felt protective over him.

And somehow, we among the more hearty indentured servants and slaves had survived the hot summer of 1774 but lost many others to the heat, exhaustion, starvation and sickness. Jeremiah and I had become close friends. We watched out for each other. Having a friend like Jeremiah gave me a reason to live.

One day in late September at the end of the harvest, a rough character by the name of Frank Tubbs, a balding huge bear of a man with a bad temper, stole supper from Jeremiah. Hosiah saw what happened and jumped up to defend Jeremiah. Frank knocked Hosiah out with one punch and then Jeremiah went after Frank. I yelled at Jeremiah to let it go,  but it was too late. Frank grabbed Jeremiah up by his collar and then I ran to break it up. I could hear old Noah calling out, “Oh lordy oh Lordy!” I seen the master come riding up on his horse. Frank just smiled and dropped Jeremiah.

“What be the trouble here boys?” the foreman says with that smirk.

“That there nigger just pounced on me for no reason,” said Frank acting all innocent. “And this crazy white boy tries to defend his nigger friend.”

“Dat not true. He steal Jeremiah suppuh,” said Hosiah.

Frank gave Hosiah a terrible look. I knew there would be trouble when the foreman climbed down off his horse.

“Seems like you boys need a lesson.” The foreman said reaching into his saddlebag for the whip. “We can’t be having these fights among the workers here.”

I knew what was coming. I tried to help Jeremiah to his feet, but the foreman told me to stand back. That afternoon, the foreman had us all assemble outside of the bunkhouses, men and women alike. Everyone was gathered even the Colonel himself. Frank, Jeremiah and Hosiah had their hands bound by ropes and suspended from a tree shirtless.

“This here whoopin tonight is just to let you know that we won’t tolerate breaking the rules hyear on this plantation. Now if any of you get any ideas to the contrary, this is what you can’t expect to receive in return,” the foreman said rolling up his white sleeves. Jeremiah looked at me with terror in his eyes.

I watched as the foreman looked towards the Colonel and he nodded. The foreman smiled and faced Frank first. He took the whip and struck Frank across the back with a quick snap. He let out a yelp. Then another and another until ten bloody lashes etched into Frank’s torso. Next he lit into Jeremiah. The kid yelped in pain. I was helpless to do anything and winced with each lash of the whip. Jeremiah passed out from the pain and hung suspended by the rope lifeless. Next he lit into Hosiah with a fury. Hosiah didn’t utter a sound. Old Noah mumbled under his breath, “Oh lord oh lord have mercy.” Once he received ten lashes the foreman didn’t stop but continued. Hosiah was covered in bloody whelps.

“Oh Jesus oh Jesus please don’t kill the boy,” said Noah.

Suddenly at the count of 15, the Colonel intervened and yelled, “That’s enough, Thomas. I paid too much money to have you kill the poor nigger for no reason!”

The foreman stopped and wiped the sweat from his brow, “Sorry Colonel.” He looked at the rest of us breathing heavy with a sneer on his face. “I think they learned their lesson.”

The Colonel turned and walked back to the house. The foreman told us to undo the ropes and take them down. I ran over to Jeremiah and lowered him from the tree and untied him from the rope. He was barely conscious and moaning in pain. Noah and the women were tending to poor Hosiah who seemed to be in terrible shape. Noah was crying holding the boy in his arms saying, “Lordy Lordy Lordy!”

Frank stood and looked at us with an evil grin. “This ain’t over,” he whispered.

I got Jeremiah back to the bunk house and was putting salve on his wounds. He yelped in pain. “You gonna be alright. Just lay still.” Some of his wounds looked deep. There was one lash in particular that stood out on the side on his neck. I hoped the salve would keep it from getting infected. That night as I listened to Jeremiah moaning in pain, I decided that we were going to run away from this place somehow. The two of us would leave. I just had to think carefully how to go bout doing it. I remember hearing stories about land to the west of the mountains that only a few white man had been too. Places that we could escape to where we couldn’t be captured. The thought of freedom gave me purpose and I would do my best to convince Jeremiah to go with me. He was like a younger brother to me and I couldn’t see him surviving in this place.

On a warm day in October as we were cutting hay. I took Jeremiah aside and said I had made plans to escape. At first he seemed shocked.

“Silas, they’ll kill us both if they catch us here. Where would we go?”

I looked at him and said, “If we stay here, we’ll surely die. Very few people ever complete their servitude. Frank has it in for us and so does the foreman. Men like us will either starve or be worked to death. You seen it, even the short time you been here.”

“Which way do we go? I have no idea where we are at!” he said.

“A while back, I heard tell that the Pennsylvania colony is just to our north, thirty maybe forty miles north. I heard tell the Colonel and his foreman are going to buy some more slaves in two days. His assistant is watching the place and we is supposed to get things ready for a harvest celebration for the family when they get back. I been saving bits of food and little stuff to get us by on the trip. Don’t you be saying nothing. Don’t tell nobody you hear. Promise me.”

He nodded and said, “Okay, I promise.”

Two days went by and sure enough, the colonel and his foreman rode off on horseback. The women were busy cleaning and preparing for a harvest festival. The men spent most of the day cleaning up around the farm. As darkness fell, I told Jeremiah to go to the outhouse. He winced but did as I said. In a hollow tree, in the field near the edge of the woods, I’d stashed some food, a blanket, and some clothes for the both of us. I would meet him there five minutes later. My heart was beating heavy. This was it. I stood in my night shirt and announced that I had to shit. I suppose nobody would think of someone running away in just a night shirt.

I walked to the outhouse in the darkness and tapped on the door. I opened the door and found Jeremiah along with Noah and Hosiah cowering on the floor.

“They’re coming with us,” Jeremiah said.

“What did you do?” I said in an angry whisper.

“They are coming with us or else I stay behind,” Jeremiah said defiantly.

I shook my head and sighed. There was no time to argue. “Once we sneak past the gate and leave the farm, we’ll be running all night. I’m telling you right now Noah, you gotta keep up.”

He nodded and said, “Sho nuff. I be runnin like I never run befo. I fix it so that master James be nippin on dah spirits,” Noah said with a big grin.

“What are you talking bout Noah?” I asked.

“Lil Lisa. She says she gonna gets ol James drunk. She do it all da time.”

“Who else did you tell?” I said angrily.

“Nobody, I swear!” Noah said crossing his heart.

We snuck our way past the main house and ran towards the fields where I stashed the food and extra clothes. Once we got to the tree, I put on the clothes and I said, “They are going to start missing us soon. We need to run like we never ran before.”

“Which way do we go? It’s so dark how can you tell?” said Jeremiah.

“Just follow me closely. I’ll tell you later once we get far enough away from this place. I just hope they don’t notice us missing for a while to give us time to get away. If they catch us, they’ll beat us nearly to death or kill us.”

We ran through fields, and woods. It was hard to see. I told them to follow the sound of my footsteps. Old Noah begged us to stop, but I said no, we can’t stop. We need to run all night. That would be our only chance because by daylight they would all be on horseback and surely catch us. Finally we stopped to rest just briefly to catch our breath. I pointed up at the stars. “See those stars that looks kinda like a dipper with the handle, right there on the cup end. If you was to draw a straight line from that bottom star in the cup to the top edge of the cup and follow it out from the cup and across the sky to the next brightest star. Well that star is part of the little dipper and if you was to follow that one star, you’ll always go north. So if something should happen and we get separated, you keep following that star. It takes us north to Pennsylvania. Now if any one of us gets caught, I want you to swear right here and now that you won’t tell where the others are, no matter what. Swear on your very life.” We all swore and started running again.  

A long while had passed and we were exhausted. My sides ached, but fear kept me going. Noah was falling behind. I threatened to leave him behind, but Jeremiah ran back to help him. We stopped once again. Old Noah wasn’t able to run anymore and sat on the ground breathing heavy. Hosiah sat on the ground beside him. I took Jeremiah aside to speak in private.

“We ain’t gonna make it if Noah can’t keep up,” I whispered. “I ain’t about to let us get caught. You know it’s true.”

“How far do we go before we are in Pennsylvania?” Jeremiah said.

“I don’t know,” I said. “But once we get to Pennsylvania, then we can think about heading west across the mountains. They don’t have slavery up that way.”

“What about the Indians? I hear they kill white people like us,” said Jeremiah.

“Yeah, but I rather take my chances with them over those that are looking for us now. We need to find us a river or stream. That way we can hide our tracks. They gonna be following us for sure. If they get close, our best bet is to split up. At least some of us will get away.”

“How far you think we ran tonight, Silas?”

“I don’t think we went no thirty miles. Probably fifteen if that. I don’t plan to stop any time soon. When it gets daylight we need to be extra careful to stay in the woods and away from clearings. Hide under leaves, climb up a tree, or hopefully get in the water and hide behind a floating log. If they have dogs we need to find water.”

“What about weapons?  Maybe we can take them out,” said Jeremiah.

“Sure, but when are we gonna get the time to do that?” I said.

We took off running again. Noah was limping along way behind us. We got separated once in the dark, but luckily we were able to find each other. Noah begged us to go on without him, but Hosiah and Jeremiah insisted that he try to keep up. I was afraid that we wouldn’t make it.

It was near dawn when we came upon a creek. It was going in ae east-west direction. “Let’s follow the creek to the west for a while but walk in the water to lose our tracks,” I said. If you hear anything, get down in the water. We can’t let them find us.”

We traveled west for a while running through the water. “Okay let’s cross here,” I said. “This is only to keep the dogs off our scent if they have dogs.”  We crossed and fought our way through vines and dense brush. Old Noah was beat. He stopped in his tracks gasping for air and holding his knees.

“I can’ts go much further,” said Noah. Hosiah tried to help him along and said something in his African language. “No Hosiah. You can’t stop for me,” Noah said patting Hosiah on the shoulder.

On the other side of the creek, past the brush was a cleared field and up a hill was an old barn. We hugged the tree line circling the field and once we were in the open woods again we continued to run north going up a hill. It was then that Old Noah said, “This is it boys. You’ve run this old man to death. This is where we part ways. I thinks you need to go west fo a whiles and I just keep walking north. Cover youse tracks good. Ifn they finds me first they be thinking you run faster straight north, but you be a bit west and then north ways before I will and maybe youse make it to Pennsylvania. If I makes it, then I turns west also and maybe we meet up. If not then I meet youse again someday in heaven I suppose. My legs they crampin up. I be slowin you down.” Noah sat down in the leaves. “I think I will stay here a while. Cover myself up with leaves. Maybe they won’t see me. Maybe I wait here,” he said talking to himself.

Jeremiah grabbed Noah’s arm and tried to pull him up. “Silas, we can’t leave him here! Help me!” said Jeremiah.

“Let me loose boy!”roared Noah.

Hosiah sat down on the ground next to Noah clinging to him. “Noah, we must go!” Hosiah said into Noah’s ear.  

“Boy, I am done. There’s no more run left in this old man. My last wish is to die a free man. I free now. You is a young man with lots of life left. You needs to get up and go like Silas tells you,” said Noah panting on the ground. He hugged Hosiah and then pushed him away. “Run along, boy!”said Noah.  

“We gotta run!” I said grabbing Hosiah by the arm pulling him along. I looked back and saw Noah one last time sitting on the ground waving us on.

We ran through woods and fields going west for a short while then turned north. Without poor old Noah lagging behind we’d covered a considerable distance. It was midmorning when we finally dropped upon the ground from pure exhaustion. We sat leaning against a fallen tree, covered ourselves with leaves.

“Do you think we made it to Pennsylvania yet?” whispered Jeremiah.

“I don’t know, but we should head west again until nightfall. I want to make sure that we went far enough,” I said.

“Do you think they will ever stop looking for us?” said Jeremiah.

“Someday maybe, but they gonna be looking for Hosiah for a while. He cost the Colonel a lot more money than us, because he owns Hosiah for life,” I said.

“We can pretend to be free people, but how do you hide a negro as black as Hosiah?” Jeremiah said.

“Maybe we can dress him up as an Indian squaw.”

“Yeah, that’s an idea.”

We ran north again sticking mainly to the woods. We stopped and drank from creeks and finished off the rest of the food we carried with us.  As night fell we headed west for a few hours and stopped when we came to a dense thicket. I decided it was a good place to rest for the night. We crawled up inside a briar thicket and covered ourselves with leaves. We reasoned that the leaves would make noise and wake us in case someone should stumble upon us. The three of us snuggled under the wool blanket and leaves for warmth and soon we drifted off to sleep.

Sometime early the next morning I was awoken by the rustle of leaves. I jostled Jeremiah and Hosiah and told them not to make a sound. I saw a man on horseback moving quietly through the woods. My heart was racing. Soon he was only a few feet away. His horse seemed uneasy as if it could sense us or maybe smell us. The man stopped the horse to listen. Suddenly a rabbit darted and ran past the horseman. Then I heard a “giddy-up” as he trotted past us heading north.

“My god that was close!” said Jeremiah. His teeth were chattering from the cold. “Do you think he was looking for us?” he said.

“Hard to tell. I don’t want to find out. I think we should go west now.”

We ran following a deer trail trying to avoid stepping on leaves or twigs because of the sound. I wanted to get as far away from the horseman as possible so we continued west most of the morning. By the time the sun was high in the sky, we turned north again. I had to trust that we were in Pennsylvania by now. We were running blindly and needed food and water. They both looked to me for answers.

“What we do now?” said Hosiah in broken English.

“I think now is the time we have to rely upon the kindness of strangers. We can’t run forever. Small farms and villages are most likely to take in wayward vagabonds and runaways. The wealthy landowners are the ones you have to worry about,” I said.

We ate wild berries and dug up old potatoes left in the field and old dry corn. Hunger was driving us mad and we had very little energy left. Jeremiah looked so thin. His eyes dark and hollow. Poor Hosiah remained quiet and never complained. When he did speak, we could barely understand him, but I reckon he must have felt the same way. We were all starving and tired. I realized that I couldn’t push them much further. A body can only take so much. On the third day we reached the outskirts of a small village. Jeremiah had taken ill. I saw two small children playing in a field. I had Hosiah hide in the woods and wait for us. We couldn’t completely trust anyone just yet. The kids ran up to us and stopped a small distance away.

“What’s wrong with ’em?” the little boy said.

“He’s sick and needs food and rest,” I said.

The two children ran to the house and soon a short, thin woman with a long brown dress and brown hair pulled tightly into a bun walked out to us.

“What be wrong with your friend?” she called out.

“We’re lost and starving ma’am. He got sick along the way,” I said.

“Stay right where you are young man,” she yelled. “I have two young children to think about. Does your friend have the pox?”

“No Ma’am. We haven’t been around any sick people. We’re just starving and he took on with a fever.”

She stood thinking for a moment. “Let me see his skin first.” She stood a distance away as I raised Jeremiah’s shirt revealing his thin bony chest.  “Come bring him inside my friend.” She opened the door and I half carried Jeremiah inside and laid him on a small cot. “My goodness you boys look half starved. You’re nothing but skin and bones. Where be you from and what brought you here?” said the woman.

“I’m Silas Grundy and this is my friend Jeremiah McAllister. I’m originally from London and he hails from Ireland. We escaped servitude from a cruel master. We were beaten and starved nearly to death. I beg of you ma’am to find it in your heart to help my friend,” I said.

“Children, bring me a pail of water from the well,” she said.

“Who are you kind people and where, may I ask, are we?” I said.

“I be Edna Sullivan. My husband Stephen is away on business. You have found yourself in Sherman’s Valley just outside of Carlisle Pennsylvania and your secret is safe with us. You boys must be starving. Let me bring you some food,” said the woman.

“I have one more thing to ask, there is yet another one of us, but I was afraid to bring him to the house,” I said.

“Edna looked worried. “Why? What would be the reason to hide him?”

“He is a negro boy and mistreated the same as us.”

Edna smiled, “Go fetch your friend. He is safe here.”

I got up and walked back towards the woods. I found Hosiah sleeping behind a tree. “Hosiah, Hosiah.” He jumped up and peered from behind the tree. I smiled and waved. He followed me towards the cabin. Edna led him to a chair and sat him down.

“I’m going to prepare some food for you men, just sit and relax.” The two children walked in the door with a pail of water. “Now you two just sit down and behave. Don’t you bother these gentlemen. They’ve had a rough time,” said the mother.

“Are you men fugitives from the law?” said the little boy.

“Don’t be asking rude questions Teddy. These men are guests in our home and I don’t want you two telling anyone in neighborhood either,” Edna said sternly.

“We promise mother,” they said in unison.

Edna went to work in the kitchen. The heat from the hearth made me feel warm and cozy. I found myself nodding off to sleep in the wooden chair as the children sat quietly staring.  A while later she brought a plate of warm cornbread, and freshly cooked chicken and beans. I had not seen this much food in years. Hosiah smiled warmly and nodded as he took the plate and wolfed down the meal  I was so hungry I ate the meal quickly as well and then fell into a deep sleep sitting in the chair.

I heard a sharp noise and woke with a start. I looked about in shock of my strange surroundings. I jumped up and looked for Jeremiah and Hosiah. They weren’t to be seen. I walked to the kitchen and there sat an older woman and Edna whispering.

“Where’s Jeremiah?” I blurted out.

“Your young friend? He be resting in bed. Spiked a high fever, but I reckon he should be fine. He needs rest. Your negro friend is out in the barn. We fixed a right nice bed for him there. He’s not safe here. There would be people who would turn in an escaped slave for the money. This is Mrs Price. She be my best friend and can be trusted,” she said.

“What of Jeremiah and me?” I asked.

“You and your friend are just cousins coming to stay with us from Boston. That will be the story we shall tell the neighbors.”

I walked in to check on Jeremiah. How soundly he slept, like an angel. I sat down beside his bed. My face contorted as I broke down in tears, partly out of happiness and a sense of relief. Somehow this lad gave me reason to live. A few months back, I thought of ways to kill myself. Needed to do something to put an end to the misery, but when I first laid eyes upon that boy, I wanted to live just to be near him,… protect him. I used to lie awake and watch him sleep in the bunk next to me, feeling the urge to hold him in my arms. I entertained fantasies of sharing a life with my friend far from this plantation. The last night on the road where we huddled for warmth under the briars and thicket, I held his body close to mine as he held Hosiah. It stirred something deep within me. The three of us could live together as a family, I thought.

Later I went out to the barn. I opened the barn door and whispered, “Hosiah? Hosiah? Its me Silas.” I climbed up into the loft and found the bed. Hosiah came out from behind some bales of hay wide eyed and shaking like a rabbit.

“We go now? he said pointing up at the sky.

“Not yet. Jeremiah’s still sick. We need to wait a while longer. We all need rest and food,” I said.

Hosiah forced a crooked smile. I could tell he was eager to move on, the way he rubbed his hands. I owed it to Noah to see to Hosiah’s safety. I decided I would stay with him in the barn. I felt guilty for leaving Noah alone in the woods. I wondered if he had froze to death or had been captured. It was nearly the end of October 1774 and it was nearly freezing the night we spent under the briars. Old Noah only had the leaves to keep him warm. I like to think he survived the night and is heading north to freedom, but for an old man his age, I didn’t want to think about what might have actually happened.

That night as I slept in the loft, I had the dream again.

The next morning Edna woke me to say that Jeremiah was awake and wanted to see me. I walked in the room and his eyes lit up and he smiled. His eyes looked sunken in the sockets and his dark orange hair fell about his face. I sat in the wooden chair beside the bed.

“Silas, are we safe here?”

“Yeah, I think so for the time being,” I said smiling, trying to reassure him. “We’re going to get you better and once we do, we can find our own land and raise our own crops and we can be happy.”

His eyes lit up. “Hosiah too?”

“Sure, all three of us.”

“Good.” He sighed and turned over in bed closing his eyes. I walked out of the room and smelled bacon and fresh bread. It was a wonderful smell.

“Breakfast is almost ready. Go wake Hosiah and then you boys go wash up,” said Edna.  

Walking towards the barn I looked south to the woods, a shiver went down my back wondering if we had been followed.

A few days later, Jeremiah was well enough to join us in the barn. One night a cold rain had settled over the farm. We had just settled into our nest in the loft when I decided to make a quick trip just outside the door to pee. As I stood facing the barn in the damp grass, I heard a clumping sound of a wagon being pulled by an old mule.  Before I could finish, a tall thin man with large features looking like a scarecrow eyed me with suspicion as I stood there scared to death beside the barn. He leapt off the wagon.

“Edna! Edna!” he yelled running towards the house. I turned and ran inside the barn and climbed the rafters. I heard a man yelling and cursing something awful. He stomped and shook his fists as she tried to explain that we were runaways and that it was her Christian duty to help. I heard him burst through the door, his voice rising. I shook Jeremiah and Hosiah.

“Get up! Get up! I whispered.

Hosiah jumped up, eyes wide clutching a blanket to his chest. I yanked Jeremiah from his sleep. Suddenly the barn door burst open and there stood the crazed farmer with his musket. Edna grabbing an arm pleaded with him to stop. My heart racing out of my chest. We ducked behind mounds of hay. Edna jumped in front of him saying,

“No Stephen, please do these men no harm!”  

“Come out and let me see thee!” he screamed.

Slowly the three of us shaking, crept out from behind the hay.  He stood looking at us confused.

“Good lord! You’re just children,” he said slowly lowering his musket.

Edna was sobbing trying to explain. I tried to catch my breath as I almost wet my trousers.  They left the barn and walked back to the house.

Hosiah sat down on the ground holding his head in his hands rocking back and forth. He looked up at me pleading.

“We go now?”

I shook my head yes.  Jeremiah quickly put on his clothes. Hosiah and I gathered our few possessions.

“We should leave now, Silas. I’m well enough to travel,” said Jeremiah putting on his clothes. Hosiah grabbed my sleeve, eagerly trying to pull me along.

A few minutes later the farmer appeared again just as we were leaving. “Hold on boys. I apologize for my hasty actions. Please, please stay the night. When I first saw you I thought we were being robbed. It is my Christian duty to help those in need.”

Hosiah pulled at my sleeve. He looked me in the eyes shaking his head no. “Silas, we go now!”

“At least stay the night. You will surely die of exposure if you leave without shelter from the cold rain.”

The three of us formed a huddle. “He is right. If we go out in this rain we could die of exposure. Jeremiah, you are still not completely well,” I said.

Jeremiah nodded and said, “Okay.” I could tell that Hosiah was not happy with our decision. He hung his head and held on to my sleeve.

I looked at the farmer and said, “Okay, we have agreed to stay the night, and if the weather is better by morning we will leave you fine people in peace.”

The following morning came and there was a steady rain. None of us looked very eager to travel. Mrs Sullivan came to the barn bringing us a nice hot breakfast.

“I apologize for the happenings last night. Stephen is really a very kind and gentle man. He be just worried for our safety. Stephen said just last night that he could use some help around the farm in exchange for room and board until you are well enough to travel.”

Mrs Sullivan walked back to the house and Hosiah stood up pointing to the sky. “Silas, we must go north. Master be coming to get us.”  

“What say you Jeremiah? Do you want to go north also? The winter is almost upon us and we don’t have proper clothing. I want to go west past the mountains, but maybe we should take these kind people up on their offer.”

“You come with me Jer’miah?” Hosiah pleaded. He looked at both of us with a worried look.

“Maybe we can stay just a few more days. I still ain’t feeling so good.” Hosiah pouted as Jeremiah sided with me.

A week had passed, and then two and it was pretty obvious that Jeremiah was fit to travel. We had regained our strength and fattened up some after being nearly starved to death. The cold chill of winter was upon us and I felt mighty worried that we were getting too late of a start. I must admit that I felt comfortable living here with the Sullivan family. It made me miss my family back home. Mr and Mrs Sullivan had taken a fair liking to Jeremiah and they’d fixed up a room and a bed just for him in the main house. We were doing fine enough with the little room Hosiah and I had made for ourselves up barn loft. We used hay to block the wind and stuffed the cracks in the boards with whatever we could find. At night we huddled together in the hay. Hosiah didn’t think anything of two men snuggling together for warmth. He said it was common for entire families to sleep together where he came from. I don’t think they quite trusted me and Hosiah to stay in their nice warm house. Hosiah being an African unable to speak English and me, well, I guess that ugly scar on my right cheek from being whipped made me look like a criminal. I suppose I couldn’t complain too much since these people were kind enough to let us stay this long.  I think Mr Sullivan was warming up to the idea of us being there. He said we were good help to have on the farm. I could tell that he was also nervous about us being there the way he would always be looking off towards the woods or down the road like he was expecting to see someone.

I remember the day me, Jeremiah, Hosiah and Mr Sullivan were washing up outside from cuttin’ all that wood.

“Been pondering a lot lately that perhaps soon we should be leaving. The snow will be upon us soon enough and will be hard traveling through that,” I said.  

Stephen turned and grabbed my shoulder. “Perhaps you boys should consider staying the winter here. I would hate the idea of you men freezing to death. I could fix a nicer cozy place in the barn for you with a little stove. In return you can help me with chores. What say you?”

Jeremiah looked intently to see what I would say. I knew he would go with me even though I knew he wanted to stay. Hosiah though was eager to leave, not because he didn’t like it there, but because he didn’t feel safe. An African slave hiding among so many white folk. There was sure to be a bounty on his head.

“Maybe that’s not such a bad idea. We are unprepared to survive a cold winter on the road. I appreciate your kindness Mr Sullivan. We shall do our best to earn our keep,” I said as I reached out to shake his hand. I tried to assure Hosiah that it would be fine.

We, the three fugitives, spent the winter there on the Sullivan farm.  Mrs Sullivan was such a wonderful cook and so kind. I loved the smell of her fresh baked bread and the wonderful stews and soups she prepared. I wasn’t used to so much tasty food or being asked if I wanted more. Home was nothing like this, just me, my dad and my little brother. Always prowling around for our next meal. I didn’t remember much about my mom except that she smelled like flowers. She died when I was only six, the same age as the Sullivan’s oldest child Teddy. The kid was always curious about us. Followed us around and peeking at us from around corners. If we looked at him, he would giggle and run. Men on the run held a special fascination and especially Hosiah. He said he’d never seen a black boy before. Stephen fixed up a right nice little bunkhouse for us in the barn. We helped him build a little enclosed room to keep the cold out and even had a little wood stove.

I remember one night in mid February 1775 lying awake in the dark. Hosiah told me about the place he came from. He described a small village on the edge of the jungle near the west coast of Africa. The people lived in small wooden houses with thatched roofs. He lived there with his mom, dad, two brothers, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and lots of cousins. He said on that fateful day, he was excited because his tribe was preparing for his rite of adulthood. On that morning he was out with three cousins fishing when they heard the sound of something moving quickly down the trail to the river. Before they could run, they were cornered and captured by five men on horseback. He said they were taken to a large brick building near the coast and were bound together in chains in a dark room. He said he and his cousins were scared and afraid they were going to be killed. After a few weeks, more people had been captured and added to the room. They were loaded on a large ship and chained together down in the bottom of a large ship. He said they were forced to lie side by side in their waste. He said he watched as his older cousin died next to him and was tossed overboard. Once they reached America he said he was separated from his cousins and never saw them again. He said he planned to find a way back but wasn’t sure how to do it. I understood then that Hosiah did not intend to go west with us.

The next day we were experiencing some unusual warm weather.  We took advantage of the warm sunny afternoon to help Mr Sullivan fix a broken section of fence on the outskirts of his property. Stephen was usually a kind reserved man who seldom spoke of trivial things, but on this day Stephen brought his young son Teddy along. We took a short break leaning against the wooden fence. Teddy sat on the top rung looking up at the sky and asked his dad. “Where do the stars go in the day?”

I took notice because I didn’t know myself. Stephen scratched his head and said, “I think they are always there, you just can’t see them?”

“Then why can’t we see them in the day?”

“Because the sun lights up the sky much brighter than the stars. In the Bible it says, Let there be lights in the firmament of the heaven to divide the day from the night; and let them be for signs, and for seasons, and for days, and years. And let them be for lights in the firmament of the heaven to give light upon the earth: and it was so. And God made two great lights; the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night: he made the stars also. And God set them in the firmament of the heaven to give light upon the earth, And to rule over the day and over the night, and to divide the light from the darkness: and God saw that it was good.”

“Father, what is a firmament?” Asked Teddy.

“Why it is nothing more than a great blue dome of air that separates us from the heavens above,” said Mr Sullivan.

“At night, did God make stars to follow?” Hosiah said looking upwards.

“Yes, he most certainly did Hosiah.. God even made a special star that shone the way to our savior who was born in a far away town of Bethlehem,” said Mr Sullivan.

“Do you think God can show me the way home in the stars?”

“Yes if you have faith I do believe that God can show you the way home, my friend.”

“I would like to know more of this God.”

“I would be happy to show you, but now I think we should finish fixing this fence. My good wife will have our lunch made very soon.”

After repairing the section of broken fence we all walked back through the fields towards the house. I stopped at the outhouse while everyone else went back towards the barn to put away their tools. As I sat there on the wooden seat thinking about those hidden stars, I thought I heard people yelling towards the barn. I peeked out through the crack in the door. I felt my knees grow weak and a dull pain deep in my gut. I slowly cracked the door open and crawled out on my hands and knees through the tall grass.  I heard a man’s voice screaming in pain. As I crept closer to the barn to get a better look I was hit in the head from behind knocking me to the ground. He grabbed me around the waist and drug me through the barn door.

“Hey Calvin! I just found the last one hiding in the outhouse,” said the man who hit me.

He shoved me to the ground, I looked up and saw the foreman standing with a rifle pointed at Mr Sullivan, who was lying on the ground with Edna and the two children bent over him crying. Just behind the foreman I saw a bloody beaten Hosiah bound in ropes, tied across the back of one of the horses. Jeremiah sat on the ground with his hands tied behind his back.

“Why can’t you leave us in peace?” said Edna crying.

“Can’t do that ma’am. Seems like you were harboring escaped slaves. You can’t be taking another man’s property,” said the foreman.

He looked at me and said, “So you thought you could outsmart me didn’t you boy? Well I’ll teach you the hard way who is smarter.” He then took the butt of his musket and hit me across the face knocking me to the ground.

“Your old nigger friend Noah thought he could outsmart me as well and guess where he’s at now? He’s swinging from a tree. Yeah, that’s right and guess who I’m gonna have to shoot for instigating all this? You’re just my prisoner and ain’t nobody gonna miss you. You best make amends with your maker cause you’re about to meet him,” he said laughing.

My heart was pounding and I felt like I would piss myself. I was bracing myself for death. The foreman aimed his pistol right at my chest and I raised my hand to shield my face.

Then I noticed something odd. The foreman had a grimace on his face and then bent slightly forward.The foreman’s assistant James shot at Jeremiah but his pistol misfired. The foreman moaned, falling to his knees and dropped his musket. James tried to reload but noticed that Edna picked up the musket.  James looked stunned as Edna raised the musket and pointed it at him.

He raised his hands and said, “Ma’am you’re not gonna shoot me. Now just hand that mu…”

But before he could finish the sentence, the musket discharged hitting James right in the neck. He dropped dead in his tracks. The foreman looked around at us, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide and intense as a growing puddle of blood pooled at his knees.

Edna horrified, dropped the weapon and screamed, “Oh my god! What have I done?”

The two wide eyed kids sat silent clinging to their father with their mouths open as they observed the events unfold in front of them. The foreman slumped forward. A pitch fork stood upright with it’s tines plunged deep into his upper back. Just behind him I saw Jeremiah crouching down, his hands covering his face, weeping. He had somehow managed to untie his hands.

“Jeremiah! Are you okay?” I yelled out.

“I’m okay I think. Just get me out of these chains,” he said pointing to his ankles.

As I ran over to the foreman, I felt wetness on my shoulder and arm.

“Silas! You’re bleeding! said Jeremiah.

I felt my shoulder and pulled back my shirt. “I think I been shot!” I showed it to Jeremiah.

“It doesn’t look very bad. I think she just nicked you a little. Look in his pocket for the key.”

I rolled the body over and fumbled for the key. I found it in his jacket pocket and tossed it to Jeremiah. I walked over to a bloody beaten Hosiah who was tied up and slung across the back of James’s horse. I tried my best to untie him from the ropes and he fell to the ground. I pulled him away from the horse. I held his head in my lap and said, “Hosiah, it’s me Silas. Can you hear me?”

His eyes were swollen shut and then he muttered, “Silas, they kilt Noah. Dey hung him in a tree.”

“I know. Ain’t nothing we can do about it now. How are you? Are you hurt anywhere else?” I asked.

“The foreman. He beat me and kick me. I sore all over.”  

Jeremiah came up besides me and asked. “Is Hosiah gonna be okay?”

“I think so.”

I looked over at Mr Sullivan lying on the ground. He seemed to be trying to get up. Edna looked over at us. “Please help me get Stephen to the house!”

Jeremiah ran over and helped Edna get Stephen to his feet. He and Edna got on either side of Stephen and walked him from the barn to the house followed by the two crying kids.

I helped Hosiah to his feet and walked him to the soft hay. He looked into my eyes and cried. “The stars…I think God make a star for me to go home.”

We sat huddled by a fire Edna made in the hearth. Mrs Sullivan was frantic, running about trying to bandage Stephen’s forehead crying and whimpering.

“Be still woman. You did what needed to be done in self defense. We need to think of a plan. People will come looking for them when they realize that they never returned. It’s no longer safe for you or us now. I’m afraid to have to ask you to leave us now in the middle of winter, but I don’t think we have much choice. First off we need to bury the bodies. Silas you and Jeremiah go get those men out of their clothes and quickly wash out the blood before it sets. You can dress as those men, no one would will know the difference. Take their horses and head west,” said Stephen.

Jeremiah and I went back to the barn. Together we quickly removed the bloody clothing from the bodies. Master Sinclair and I share the same short stature, so it was a simple decision that I should wear his clothes. Being that Jeremiah is a few inches taller than me, he got James’s big baggy clothes by default. We struggled to wash most of the blood out. The white shirt was completely ruined. We rummaged through their personal things and found a great deal of money. Jeremiah was breathing heavy, he stopped and just stared at me. I could see that pain and fear in his bloodshot eyes. I nodded and put my arm around him. He collapsed into my arms and his face buried in my bosom.

“I didn’t mean to kill him! He was going to shoot you.”

“You did what you had to do,” I said holding him tight.

“Do you think my soul is doomed to hell?”

“I’m not sure there really is a hell, but Mr Sullivan seems to think there is and that all you need to do is ask for God’s forgiveness.”

Late that night, Edna with tears streaming down her face held the lantern. Jeremiah and I dug two shallow graves at the far end of the cornfield. Once finished, we quickly dumped the now cold stiff bodies. We tamped the wet soil and placed leaves and branches over the area to conceal the fresh graves.

The three of us set out early the next morning well before first light on the two horses. I was shivering in my damp shirt as the wind blew something fierce. A storm was moving in from the north whipping up the dry leaves. I looked over at Hosiah. His head hunched forward, his eyes half shut. Jeremiah sat behind Hosiah, his arms wrapped around his waist. His face looked sullen and blank staring forward. Neither one of them had said more than a word. Each of us entertained our own private thoughts.  I missed the Sullivans. They were like the family I had always dreamed of being a part of, and just when things were looking so promising this had to happen. Anger drove me onwards. All I wanted was to be left in peace and if that meant riding to the ends of the Earth, then so be it.

We were following a dirt path west through hilly country. The storm hit sometime that morning with strong wind and heavy rain. We covered ourselves with buffalo skins to keep the rain off, but we still got wet as we rode through the day. We passed by some pretty meadows as the hills got steeper.

When it started to get dark, we found a small meadow to rest the horses. It was still raining so we fashioned a crude shelter out of a few buffalo hides stretched between two trees. We tried to make a fire, but the wood was wet. The three of us just huddled together for warmth, cold and miserable the entire night. An owl in the tree above us hooted all night. Hosiah was scared and said it was a ghost. I assured him that it was only a bird.

It rained most of the next day and it felt much colder. We chewed on venison jerky that Mrs Sullivan packed up for us along with a few bags of beans and corn meal. The trail grew difficult in places. We crossed a couple of creeks and in some places it was much too rocky for the horses and made it slow going. Late that afternoon we rested at the top of a steep hill and looked out at the valley below. The rain let up and for once I saw clear skies far in the distance.

“Oh god I hope that’s the end of the rain,” I said. I heard whimpering behind me. I looked back and saw Jeremiah on his knees all bent over with his head buried in his hands. “Jeremiah, What’s wrong?” I said. I walked over and put my hand on his shoulder.

“I’m going to hell. I murdered a man.”

“You did what you had to do. He was going to kill me and he almost beat Hosiah to death. If you didn’t do what you did, you’d both be on your way back to that plantation again.”

Hosiah walked over and got on his knees in front of Jeremiah. “Jeremiah, you good man.” He tapped him on the shoulder and whispered, “You good man.”

We traveled a few miles and set up camp near a small stream. The sky had cleared and that night we lay out under the bright stars on our buffalo skins. Hosiah caught two rabbits and we cooked them over a nice fire that we somehow managed to start despite the damp wood. Once our bellies were full, we lay on the soft leaves. I felt slightly drier and fell off into a deep restful sleep.

I found myself standing on a perfectly smooth wide road that stretched on as far as the eye can see through a desert with strange prickly plants shaped like men. In the distance I saw a city glowing with multicolored lights. Buildings towered like mountains high into the sky. People sped past me in shiny metallic carriage that roared like a loud humming bee, but it moved independent of horses. I’d never seen anything move so fast. More of the carriages sped past me on the road. And then I saw the most terrifying sight. In the sky I heard a loud roar and then looked up and saw a great silver bird, yet it was no bird, but some sort of flying machine with rigid wings. It left a trail of clouds behind it as roared out of site. “Beep beep beep!” I was startled as one of those carriages almost ran me over.

I woke with a start. My companions lay to either side of me in a deep slumber. The dream felt so real at the time. But I knew it had to be a dream because there is no such thing as flying machines.

The morning of the third day we awoke to blue skies and sun. A slight breeze blew out of the north. We decided to dry out our wet clothes and bathe in the creek. I stripped down to my undershirt. Hosiah and Jeremiah stared at me from the bank. I took off my undershirt and put it in the crook of a tree.

“Aren’t you guys joining me?” I said

At that, they began to disrobe. I watched them as I waded deeper into the creek. Jeremiah timidly removed his clothes while Hosiah casually tossed his off and dove into the water splashing both of us. We both screamed as the cold water hit us.

Hosiah’s head broke the surface and said,“That was funny. No?”

I shook my head and said, ”No.”  

A big smile came over his face and then he started to splash us both with water. That was the first time I saw Jeremiah smile since we left the farm. I couldn’t help staring at my two naked friends. I felt myself drawn to them in a sexual way, especially Jeremiah. Jeremiah caught me staring at his body and gave me a quick smile.The sight of another man’s penis excited me in such a way that I had to turn away from them. Hosiah wondered what was wrong and came to see what I was hiding.

“Ha ha ha. You need go be by yourself?” he said making a masturbation gesture by moving his hand rapidly up and down saying, “chucka chucka chucka.”

I was embarrassed. “No, no it just happens sometimes when I get cold.”

After taking a bath we lay down on the flat boulders that lined the creek. The warm sun on my back made me feel especially cozy lying next to my best friends. I started to imagine a life where the three of us lived together on a farm someday.

A few hours later we packed our things and set back on the path early that afternoon. We walked our horses in silence. Something happened between Jeremiah and I back at the creek. That knowing smile made me think about him all day. Could he possibly think of me in the same way?

As we traveled west, we passed by small villages in the valleys between the mountains. Children out playing and farmers eyed us suspiciously as we rode on by. The countryside was beautiful and there were small trees covered in tiny pink blossoms, even on the truck of the tree. I had never seen anything like it. In the late afternoon I managed to shoot and kill a deer near the tree-line. It put us in a good mood once we had built a nice fire we cooked some of the meat. We made jerky out of the rest by smoking it over our fire. Things were starting to look hopeful. After getting our fill, I cut the rest of the meat out to dry and hung it in the trees. We decided to make camp here and cross over the steeper mountains the next morning.

That night as we lay about the crackling fire, Jeremiah scooted closer to me. He snuggled right up next to my back and then he put his arm around my waist. I didn’t say a word, but it was what I had always wanted to happen. He didn’t do anymore than that and then he went still, then started to snore. I knew he really liked me, but now I was confused. Does he think of me as a brother or something more? I couldn’t sleep because it kept me aroused. I was in bliss.

Sometime during the night I heard the horses stamping and making nervous noises.  A loud crack and a pop. A rustling near the trees. My eyes shot open and I raised my head straining to get a better look. Jeremiah’s warm body held me down. I froze and a jolt of energy shot through me. My heavy breathing hung in a cold frosty mist. The horses neighed and snorted trying to break free of the reigns. I saw a huge dark creature rising high upon its haunches. I wondered if it be one of those dreaded grizzly bears that I was warned about. I forgot about hanging the venison in the trees. I rolled loose of Jeremiah’s cozy grip and grabbed my musket. My hands were shaking. I had only shot a musket twice before. If I should miss, would the bear reach me before I could get off another shot?  I laid the barrel across my left arm to steady my aim. The bear was going for one of the horses when I finally got off a shot. Kablam! I felt the recoil, then an echo rang through the forest. The bullet missed, but the bear ran off. Jeremiah and Hosiah jolted awake hugging the ground. Hosiah low crawled towards me and then crouched over us.

“What is it? What is it?” he said shaking.

“A bear. I think I saw a bear. It was going for the horses. I shot and it ran off. I think it smelled the venison,” I said.

We rebuilt the fire and brought the horses closer. The three of us sat in a circle facing away from the fire staring out into the dark woods in case the bear should return.

“What did it look like Silas? I never saw a bear before,” said Jeremiah.

“It was huge and hairy, but when it stood it towered over the horses. I’d never before seen the likes of such a beast. I was truly scared,” I said standing on my tip toes and arms high in the air, trying to imitate the bear.

“I hope someday to see a bear, but hopefully not tonight and only from a far distance,” said Jeremiah.

“I hope not to see a bear, never, unless it’s a dead bear,”said Hosiah.

The conversation died and we sat awake in silence until the sky grew lighter. A light frost settled upon the forest floor. The air was crisp and cold. Before the first golden rays could reach the ground we had already packed our things and were heading back on the trail as higher mountains rose before us. In the light of day as our fear dissipated we joked among ourselves boasting how we should kill the bear if perchance we should ever encounter one again.

As we ascended the next mountain trail I found it extremely difficult to keep our footing on the loose rocks and mud. We had to walk the horses slowly up the steep winding trails. Somewhere nearing the top we heard a man’s voice cursing in thick Irish accent at some poor woman named Jezebel.

“Move yer fat arse you brazen hussy. Oh lord give me strength that I must endure this foul beast. Come on Jezebel.” I heard the braying of a donkey, a rumble, a crash, then a scream. As we rounded the bend in the trail I heard a moaning, “Oh dear lord help me in my time of need,” a voice cried. A mule sat in middle of a large puddle of muddy water. Just behind it an overturned wagon had a man pinned between the sideboard and the ground. Down the hillside was scattered the contents of the wagon. An orange haired man was struggling beneath the wagon. He was not much older that us and lay covered in mud holding on to a rope tied around the neck of some sad looking mule who sat in the mud refusing to get up.

“Oh glory be to the almighty! Would you gentlemen be ever so kind as to help me out from under me wagon. Ole Jezebel here decided she was going to be surly this fine morning and nearly killed me.”

 We dismounted and ran to the wagon. “Are you hurt?” I asked.

“I don’t think so, but I am penned tight. If that mule decides to move I could be hurt worse. Thank the lord you gentlemen showed up in my hour of need.”

The three of us got on one side and lifted with all our strength and managed to right the wagon, freeing the man beneath.  As the man struggled to his feet, I was quite aware that this was most likely the fattest man I’d ever seen. He wore a long black coat and a white lapel and a large black hat covering long red hair tied tightly on the back of his scalp. His face flushed from panting, almost matched the color of his hair.  

“Oh thank you so kindly. You are indeed a blessing sent by God almighty to deliver me from certain death. Could you ever be so kind as to help me retrieve my few meager belongings scattered down the hillside. Oh sorry, how impolite of me. My name is Caleb O’Brian and I have come to spread the precious word of our Lord to savage and civilized men alike. And who be you fine gentlemen?” he said wiping the mud from his coat.

“I’m Silas Grundy and these are my good friends Jeremiah McAllister and Hosiah. We’re heading west across the mountains in search of a  place called Cain-tuck-kee I heard tale it’s full of grassy meadows and lots of game. A good place to start a farm.”

“Aye, I may have heard a few stories myself. I encountered a trapper a few months ago that claimed to explore some land far down river well beyond the mountains. He called it a hunter’s paradise teeming with wild game.”

“We ran into a bear last night. Have you encountered any bears?” said Jeremiah.

“Oh Lord I should hope not. The only dangerous beasts that I have encountered was snakes, buffalo and a few raccoons.”

Hosiah stared at Caleb and giggled. Suddenly he just blurted out what we were thinking. “You are fat! You are really really fat. You are a rich man, no?” said Hosiah. I was shocked at his manners.

“Yes my observant friend, the Lord has blessed me with so much more of myself than I know what to do with,” he said patting his belly, “But alas, I am not a wealthy man, but a humble pilgrim. I too fall short of the lord’s expectations as you can clearly see. This weight is my cross to bear for the sin of my gluttonous ways.”

“In my village, to be fat like you is a sign of great wealth,” said Hosiah.

“I’m afraid my weight is all that I inherited from my poor parents. All that I own is now scattered down the hillside because of that obstinate beast.”

Soon we were wandering about the hillside picking up pieces of clothing, bedding, food and tools scattered about. Caleb could barely walk. He was breathing heavy and sat down. We finished gathering the items and packed them away.

“Thank you so kindly my fine gentlemen. May the Lord bless you on your journeys,” he said wiping the sweat from his brow. He walked over to the mule that was still sitting in the mud puddle and pulled at the reins. “Please get up Jezebel you wretched harlot! Caleb grabbed his temples and shook his head.  

Jeremiah walked up beside the mule whispering in its ear. Then he patted the mule on its neck and it rose to its feet. Caleb ran up to him excitedly. “Oh blessed be to God all mighty! What did you say to that sorry mule to get her to obey you?”

“All I did was speak softly and asked her to get up. I think she hates being bossed around,” said Jeremiah patting the mule on her nose. “You gonna be a good girl Jezebel?”

Jeremiah mounted his horse and Hosiah and I mounted the other. We rode off a fair ways leaving Caleb behind. Caleb yelled Giddy-up! I looked back and saw Jezebel sitting down.

“Hold up! Hold up my dear saviors!” Caleb yelled.

I glanced over at Jeremiah and shook my head no. In a soft voice I said, “Pretend like we can’t hear him.”

Caleb yelled out again more forcefully. “Please come back I beg of you! My mule refuses to move!” I turned and saw the fat man was winded and grabbing his knees. Jeremiah turned to me and said, “Silas, we can’t just leave him there.”

“He is none of our concern,” I sneered.

“But Silas, he could die up here.”

“Unlikely. He has enough food to last a few months and enough fat to last a year,” I said as Hosiah started to laugh.

“Please come back!” he said frantically.

“Come on Silas, please?” said Jeremiah begging.

I cocked my head and scowled. “If we go back, don’t say a word about what happened. Last thing I want is to be hanged for murder.”

Jeremiah shook his head and said, “I won’t say a word, I swear.”

We turned and rode back. Caleb raised his hands high in the air looking towards the heavens. “Oh thank you, Jesus! Thanks you so much for coming back.” We rode up beside his wagon and Caleb was wiping his brow. “My dear friends, could I please trouble you but one more time? If I could but have you accompany me as far as Pittsburgh I will gladly pay you handsomely for your time. This beast has plagued me with misery since I left Boston. If I can just get to town I can replace this sorry creature for something more cooperative. Jeremiah could you ride with me and persuade this beast into taking us further?” I glanced over at Jeremiah winking as I tilted my head.

Jeremiah talked Jezebel into getting up and obediently she followed as he led her down the side of the mountain with the wagon in tow. We descended into a fair valley of open meadows.

Once the trail leveled off Caleb called out, “Come sit in the wagon my dear friend, I do not take up the entire seat as it may appear.”  Jeremiah smiled and climbed aboard the wagon finding actual little room to sit. Jeremiah gave a nervous smile as he sat tight against Caleb’s massive paunch.  Caleb yakked on and on having Jeremiah as his private audience. Jeremiah smiled and nodded. As we got closer to town, I noticed odd bones scattered about the fields and broken bits of bridles. I dismounted and picked up one of the bones and to my horror I realized I was holding part of a human pelvis and then I saw a human skull nearby. I dropped it feeling queasy.

“Ahhh! these are human bones!” I yelled.

“Aye, this be the place where Colonel Braddock and his men fell in battle against the French and Indians nearly twenty years ago. They left the bodies of the fallen soldiers to rot in the fields,” said Caleb.

“Oh that is gruesome. No one gave them a proper burial. This place gives me the creeps,” I said.

“Fear not for them, for on that day of judgement the voice of the lord shall call out across the land and the bodies of the dead shall rise and be called forth unto the lord,” said Caleb.

As I rode past I was careful not to trample on any of the bones lying about for fear that their ghosts should haunt me. They spoke for some time on the nature of faith and religion. I just nodded and smiled as Caleb talked on and on. He seemed friendly enough and he sure seemed rather energetic about god and religion. Hosiah was being quiet and kept a fair distance behind us. I could tell something was wrong. I hung back and waited for Hosiah to catch up. He returned my gaze with worry in his eyes.

“Why we ride with this man?”said Hosiah.    

“He seems to know this country and he said he would pay us for helping him,” I said.

“He talk too much. I think Jeremiah might tell our secret,” said Hosiah.

“No, Jeremiah won’t do that. He promised me he wouldn’t,” I said.

“I think Jeremiah is too nice. He tell me and Noah about your plan to run away after you told him to keep it secret.”

“Well I can’t imagine Jeremiah would tell a complete stranger that he had killed a man. He wouldn’t do anything that stupid would he?”

Hosiah shrugged his shoulders. “I hope not. It be worse for me. I can not hide like you because of my black skin. People would come for me,” said Hosiah.

I rode near the wagon trying to overhear their conversation. Caleb rambled on and on about God’s glory and man’s salvation. A sigh of relief. I rode back to Hosiah and whispered, “So far it seemed to be Caleb doing all the talking. Maybe people in town will think you are the preacher’s assistant. Me and Jeremiah hardly look the type to be called Master. If Caleb keeps his end of the bargain we might be able to purchase a few meager provisions, clothes and perhaps some sort of transport down the Ohio river. What do you think?”

“I think maybe it is ok for now. You think maybe we can pay someone to fix my shoes? he said.  

“Yes, maybe if he keeps his part of the bargain.”

“Then maybe it is okay,” he said nodding his head.

On the outskirts of Pittsburgh we stopped on the banks of the wide Monongahela river and rested our horses. A very lovely meadow sloped gently towards the river. Caleb had laid out a fine cloth upon the flat rocks, then brewed a nice pot of tea and made some johnnycakes.

Caleb smiled and looked towards the heavens. “Oh what a fine day the lord has blessed us with. A gentle breeze is blowing and the grass is cool and inviting. Let us praise the Lord and break bread together. Thank you Lord for delivering these fine men unto me in my time of need and bless them in their journey, amen,” he said as he had us bow our heads and hold hands.

He gave us each a jonnycake and a wooden noggin full of hot steaming tea. We sat relaxing in the cool grass. Caleb took a big sip of his tea. He smiled, took a deep breath, and then sighed heavily.

“So I hear you boys had quite the adventure,” he said causing me to nearly choke on my tea. I felt queasy, almost ill. I thought I might piss myself. I nervously looked towards Jeremiah? He winced and shrugged his shoulders, cowering before my shocked expression.

“Please don’t be too hard on your friend. And don’t you worry. Your secret is safe with me. I can be pretty tricky when it comes to prying information out of someone.  You boys did a very kind favor for me. You could have left me there in the wilderness to die, but you chose to do the right thing for which I am eternally grateful. From what Jeremiah told me, you gentlemen were left with few options and I might have done the same thing given those same options. You can rejoice in the knowledge that our lord forgives even the worst of sins if we only ask for his forgiveness,” he said.

“How do we know we can trust you to keep our secret?” I said.

“You have my word as a man of God.”

Jeremiah turned to Caleb and said, “Will the Lord forgive me too?”

“Yes, indeed. All you need to do is believe that the Lord sent his only begotten son to die on the cross to pay the price of your sin and was resurrected on the third day proving that he was indeed God in the flesh. Do you believe what I tell you is true?” said Caleb.

“Yes, I believe,” said Jeremiah in tears.”

“Oh glory to God almighty. What a blessed day. Come with me to that great river that you may confess your sins before the lord.” Jeremiah got up and followed Caleb into the river. They stood waist deep in the muddy river.

“Do you Jeremiah believe that Jesus died on the cross for your sins and that he arose on the third day.?”

“Yes, I believe.”

“Now ask the lord to forgive your sins,” he said as Jeremiah burst into tears.

“I am so sorry Lord. I didn’t want to kill the foreman. Can you please forgive me?”

Caleb grabbed the back of Jeremiah’s head. “Relax and let the holy water wash your sins away. In the name of the father, son and holy spirit, I baptize thee.” He placed one hand on Jeremiah’s forehead and braced his back with the other as he plunged Jeremiah backwards into the river. “Arise brother Jeremiah. Your sins have been borne away, and by the blood of Jesus, you have been born anew.”

Hosiah was so moved that he, too, ran into the river. “Will your God forgive me too?”

“Oh yes, indeed,” said Caleb as he performed the same ceremony upon Hosiah. He arose from the river laughing and jumping.

“I am saved. I am saved.”  

Jeremiah and Hosiah were laying their clothes to dry on the rocks. Caleb smiled and sat down beside me, his clothes drenched. “Silas, I can do the same for you if you only ask.”

“No thanks, Caleb, I’m not sure I believe,” I said.

“Just know that God loves you and is always there waiting if only you ask.”

“No disrespect, but I’m a man that must be shown the truth with my own eyes before I can believe in something,” I said not wanting this conversation.

“So Silas, do you believe in love, hate or envy? You can’t see it or feel it or hear it, but you know they exist because you can feel it. You feel an irresistible pull towards some people you meet and a repulsion towards others. Knowing God is the same way. You just have this comforting feeling that you are not alone and that all will be fine in the end. The trust I have in this feeling allows me to sleep soundly at night, for I have faith in my heart that if some bad fortune should befall me, I will be reunited with that comforting feeling I had known all along. Do you sleep so soundly at night as I Silas?” he said.

“Yeah, I sleep well enough.”  

“If not, then consider what I have said. My offer is always open my dear friend.”

“I will keep you in mind, Revered,” I said smiling and rolling my eyes. I got up and said, “I best be checking on the horses.”

Once the clothes had dried and the horses rested, we packed our things. Caleb lumbered over to where I was packing my saddlebags. “Silas, I know you gentlemen are ready to be rid of me, and I plan to pay you for your services rendered, but I have another proposition. Tomorrow I have an appointment with a Mr Thomas Howard and his wife. They are from a prominent family of some notable wealth, living just a few miles from here. I propose that you accompany me to town as my guests and I will get us rooms in the inn for the night and afterwards I will treat you to a fine meal. What say you?” I turned away shaking my head. “Please hear me out. You are going to have a difficult time keeping Hosiah safe from those who would snatch him up to claim a reward. I suggest you pose as fellow missionaries and Hosiah can pose as my personal servant. You know I am right. Please consider my offer,” he said adjusting his breeches.

“If we go along with this, how can we be sure you won’t turn us in for a reward?” I said.

“You can’t be sure, but you have my word as a man of God.”

“So what do you get out of this Caleb?”

“My dear Silas, that wagon was crushing my chest. Had my dear saviors not rescued me when you did, I would have been dead a few moments later. I am eternally grateful and wish to show my gratitude.  

“Isn’t it wrong to lie about our identity?”

“Yes, it is wrong, but the Lord would understand.”

Caleb dug through a small chest stashed in the back of his wagon. It was full of clothes. “Ah, yes, here we go.” He pulled out a white shirt, then some fine blue breeches. “Hosiah, please try on these clothes. We need to have you dressed fine and dandy. These clothes were once worn by my former assistant who met a most unfortunate demise.”

Hosiah reached for the clothes suspiciously. “What is demise?”  

“A demise is one’s undoing, his death. In the case of the late Archibald Higgins, my assistant, he was killed by a band of young Iroquois natives hot for revenge after some white men burned their village killing women and children. My dear colleague met his unfortunate end bathing in the river and was hit by an arrow. I saw it all happen from my wagon. There was a trapper traveling with me who hunted down and killed one of the boys. He scalped the young boy and hung his corpse in a tree. It was all so horrible. I saved Archie’s things and I think he would be happy if you wore them.”

Hosiah tried on the clothes. His eyes lit up when Caleb pulled a pair of shoes from the trunk. “Try these on. I sure hope they fit.” Hosiah giggled and he slipped his foot into the fancy shoes with the brass buckles. He walked around in the shoes, but they were obviously a bit big for his feet. “Here, let’s put some rags in the toe. That should make them feel a bit more snug.” Hosiah put on the shoes again and ran through the grass.

“Look, Silas. I have new shoes!”

As we rode towards into town, Caleb instructed Hosiah how to act as his personal servant. He told Jeremiah and me to say as little as possible about our past. We were to play the part of his cousins who had just arrived from London.

Up ahead riding in formation towards us, dressed in their bright red coats were soldiers of the crown, perhaps fifteen men. They were joking and laughing as they approached.

“What are the redcoats doing this far west?” asked Jeremiah in a whisper.  

“They are Lord Dunmore’s men. They took Fort Pitt and renamed it Fort Dunmore for Lord Dunmore of the Virginia colony,” said Caleb.

In passing, the captain tipped his hat and said, “Hail stranger, what be your business here?”

“I am Rev. Caleb O’Brian, a humble man spreading the word of God. These be my kinsmen John and Stanley O’Brian, and this is my personal assistant, Joseph. We have come to meet with Rev. Thomas Howard.”

“Good day to you Reverend.” He nodded and whistled at his horse and they rode past. Most of these soldiers were no older than us. I noticed how handsome the young men looked in uniform. I think it is rather odd that I should possess such longings inside me for the site of other men, where the site of a woman makes me feel indifferent. I wondered if other men felt as I do.

Once they were well past us, Caleb turned to me, winked and said, “See, if you play the part right, people won’t question you.”

We arrived at the Galbraith Inn at mid afternoon. It appeared to be a prosperous establishment. Mrs Galbraith greeted us at the door. She was a tall thin woman dressed very modestly in a long black dress and her black hair pulled tightly into a bun.

“Oh glory be! I’m so glad to see you back in town, Reverend O’Brian. And who are these fine gentlemen who have accompanied you?” she asked.

“Mrs. Galbraith, let me introduce you to two of my kinsmen John and Stanley O’Brian. They are my father’s sister’s boys and thus my cousins, whom I had not seen since we were we lads,” he said as we tipped our hats. “And lastly this is my personal servant and friend, Joseph. He aspires to be a man of God such as myself.”

“It is nice to make your acquaintance, gentlemen, but dear Reverend, what has become of Mr Higgins?” said Mrs Galbraith.

“Alas, My dear Archibald befell a sad fate but just a few months past. While bathing in a river his life was cut short by an arrow to the chest by one young Indian boy seeking revenge.”

“Oh, my goodness! I am so sorry to hear that. Please come in. I shall put you up in two of our finest guest rooms if that is fine with you?”

“That would be splendid madame. I was thinking that I would take a room with my assistant and my cousins would share the other room,” said Caleb.

“Will you and your guests be dining with us tonight?” said Mrs Galbraith.

“Oh I should hope so madame. The last meal I ate here was indeed heavenly,” he said patting his huge belly.

“Can we expect to hear one of your inspired sermons?”

“Oh most assuredly madame. It would be my pleasure.”

“Well let’s get you settled in before my husband returns from the fort. There is a livery stable at the end of the street. So let me show you to your rooms before you go.”

As they talked, I explored the main room. The furniture seemed very fancy. It was what I imagined Colonel Ridgely’s home to look like on the inside. There were cushions, doilies and lace covering everything. In the corner of the main room, there was a caged bird. Inside the beautifully crafted cage sat a red bird just like the ones I saw in the woods. It was just a decoration sitting there in the corner to match the settee. I sat on the comfortable stuffed chair watching the nervous bird plucking out its beautiful red feathers, it seemed to me, an act of rebellion.

She led us up a flight of stairs to our rooms. I was excited to be sharing a private room with Jeremiah. The room had two cozy beds, lots of warm blankets and pillows. I fell upon the bed and stretched out. “I think this is the first real bed I ever sat on.”

After tending to the horses and washing up, Jeremiah and I followed Caleb and Hosiah downstairs. Mr Galbraith, a tall, thin man in his late forties was sitting in the lounge talking with a young, pretty girl.  He had thinning brown hair tied into a knot on the back of his head and dressed in a light blue waist coat, shiny blue breeches, white knee socks and brown leather boots with brass buckles. The blonde girl wore a long brown dress and  sat with her hands neatly folded on her lap looking up smiling slightly.

“Welcome back, my dear Reverend O’Brian. These must be your cousins John and Stanley and your personal assistant Joseph. Welcome to my inn. This is my sister’s child, Amity. She has come to work for us at the inn. I hope your journey was a pleasant one,” he said shaking our hands.

“Aye yes, It is so nice to see you again as well my dear Mr Galbraith and nice to make your acquaintance my dear Amity. We had a few rough moments in the mountains because of my insolent mule, but all in all it was a splendid trip. I hope you are eager for another rousing sermon this coming sabbath.”

“Oh indeed I am. I expect half the town will be there.”

“I should hope so. I have noticed that the people out this way have been slacking when it comes to the Lord’s business.”

“Aye that they have. Being so far from civilized society and the power of the church has caused many to stray,” said Mr Galbraith cupping his hands.

“Well it is my duty to lead them back on the right path,” said Caleb as he yammered on and on as we sat in those fancy overstuffed chairs feeling so out of place. I noticed that Amity was staring at Jeremiah and blushing.  Finally Mrs Galbraith called us to dinner along with the other guests. We entered a dining room with a large table. A lace cloth was covering the table. Each settinghad ceramic dishes and silverware. Never before had I eaten at such a fancy table. Mrs Galbraith had prepared a feast of pot roast, and bread, butter, vegetables and even a custard pie. We were encouraged to eat our fill. Amity helped serve the dinner. She didn’t say a word, but just smiled and nodded. I came back for seconds as did Jeremiah and Hosiah. Hosiah smiled and pointed towards Caleb who sat with a stack of empty dishes beside him. His face was greasy with food as were his fingers. I found it amazing that a man could eat so much.

After a wonderful dinner and watching a beautiful sunset Caleb announced that he needed to rest following a long journey. The four of us thanked Mrs Galbraith for such a delicious meal. Mrs Galbraith gave us two lanterns.

“You can use this if you need to go outside,” she said in her night clothes and cap.  

Caleb looked bloated as he struggled to climb the stairs. He grabbed his enormous belly and said, “Oh dear Lord please forgive me. My gluttonous nature has overpowered my will to resist tonight. And so this weight is my cross to bear.”

It took the three of us to help him to his room. Caleb sat on the bed and the springs creaked and moaned. His bulk covered the entire bed. “Thanks gentlemen. I shall settle my debt to you come morning. I think I am ready for a most comfortable slumber. I bid thee a good night. That would be your bed for the night Hosiah,” said Caleb turning to his side.

“That is for me to sleep?” said Hosiah as he sat on the bed and smiled. “Look look, I sleep on a bed for kings!”

Jeremiah smiled at me as we left Caleb’s room and walked down the hall to our room. I was excited to be sharing a room with him all by myself. We opened the door and walked inside. Jeremiah ran and jumped on one of the beds.

“I want this one!” he said like a little kid.

“Sure, I’m not picky,” I said plopping down on the other bed. I was still wearing my clothes as I stretched out. Jeremiah looked so handsome by candlelight. A book was lying on the end table and Jeremiah picked it up. It was the Bible. Jeremiah started to read, but I wanted his attention. Suddenly I remembered that I had a few shillings from the foreman’s jacket pocket.

Jeremiah! Jeremiah! have you ever been to a tavern? I have a few shillings. I want to taste whiskey before I go into the wilderness?”

He turned to me smiling. He put the book down with a big smile. “I never drank hard liquor before either. You really want to?” he said with a hungry look. “Let’s go then.” As we walked towards the door Jeremiah said, “Should we go back and get Hosiah?”

“No, if we go back, Caleb might try to talk us into praying or something.” We giggled and snuck out the door.

A light rain made the dirt roads slick. Jeremiah and I walked step in step as on a mission. We reached the tavern just as the rain became a downpour. The interior was rather dark with lanterns hung by the door and over the bar. An old gruff man stood behind the bar wiping his glasses. It was dark and intimidating.

“What are you two lads doing here?”

“I would like a glass of whiskey and one for my friend,” I said handing him the shilling.

“Aren’t you two a wee bit young to be away from your mothers teet?”

“I am twenty three and my friend here is eighteen. Ain’t that old enough?” I said feeling a bit flustered

“He don’t look a day over fifteen,” said the bartender laughing.

“Shit, Horace. They’re just two young bucks looking for some fun. Let them buy a drink,” said a tall dark haired man sitting in the back. Horace grunted and poured two shots of whiskey. We took our drinks and the man in the back waved us over.

“Sit, sit. So what are you two doing out this time of night?” the older man said putting his large grubby hand on my shoulder.

“Today is my friend’s birthday. He turned eighteen today. I wanted to get him good and drunk,” I said. Jeremiah gave me a surprised look trying to play his part in the lie.

The man yelled to Horace. “Today is the kid’s birthday! Bring us four more shots my dear man!”

The older man appeared to be middle-aged, but he was rather tall with big features.  He had an uncombed mane of jet black hair beneath a coon-skinned cap and a bushy black beard. His coat was made of deer skins with a scabbard across his chest sheathing a large hunting knife.  The other man was closer to our age but shorter. His head was shaved and he wore Indian clothes and spoke with a strange accent. He looked a bit rough. At first I thought he was an Indian, but when I saw his blue eyes, I knew he was a white man.

“My name’s John Hinkson, and this is my pal Simon Girty. Who be you men?”

“I am Sss, Stan O’Brian and this is my brother John. We have arrived with our cousin Reverend Caleb O’Brian.”

Simon started to laugh. “That hopper-arse is your cousin? said Simon. “He looks like a tick swollen with blood. If we poke him with a knife, will he pop?” said Simon laughing.

“Caleb is a good man. He just happens to be fat,” said Jeremiah.

“Simon is just having a bit of fun. He didn’t mean to demean that bloated fat hog you call your cousin,” said John slapping his knees as both men roared with laughter.

I wasn’t in the mood to be made fun of and stood up. Jeremiah joined me as we started to walk away.

“Ah, come on back boys. Sit back down. You haven’t even touched your drinks. I insist,” he said smiling but with a more serious gaze. I was afraid we had made a serious mistake by coming here and that we were in for a fight or worse.

“Bottoms up, boys!” he said downing his shot. It burned and I gagged a bit as it went down. Jeremiah made a face and squinted hard as he drank the shot.

“You drink like a squaw,” said Simon sneering.

I thought he was ready to pick a fight with Jeremiah. Jeremiah searched my eyes for support. I was preparing my fist to hit John on his lower jaw.

John looked at me closely. “So how did you get that scar on your cheek, boy?”  

“I, I got it when I fell climbing a tree,” I said.

John stood up and reached for my collar. I jerked back raising my fists. “Let me see. That scar kinda runs back around your neck. You lied to me boy. You been whipped. Raise up that shirt.”

“No! I don’t have to show you anything!” I said stepping back.

Suddenly Simon grabbed Jeremiah and put a knife to his throat. “You pull up that shirt or else Simon is gonna hurt your brother,” said John.

As I pulled up my shirt, they both observed. “Yep this boy been whupped sure enough. What you done to get you whupped like that Stan, if that is your name,” said Simon playing with his knife.

“I got it for stealing a loaf of bread,” I said.

“We got ourselves a thief here. And what is your story John?” said John.

“I am just his brother and we are here with our cousin,” said Jeremiah.

“I don’t believe him,” said Simon now hovering and looking angry. “That preacher man ain’t likely to have thieves as his cousins.” Simon got behind Jeremiah and put a knife to his throat. “I wonder if this will loosen your tongue.” Jeremiah didn’t say anything and then Simon pressed the knife closer bringing a drip of blood.

“Leave him alone!” I said as John stood between me a Jeremiah.

Suddenly Jeremiah blurted out. “I killed the man who was going to shoot us.”

Simon and John looked shocked. Simon smiled and took the knife away from my throat.  I shook my head thinking now we are really in trouble.

“You killed a man? Whom did you kill?” said Simon.

“We ran away from the Ridgely Plantation. We was doing good until the foreman caught up to us last week. He was going to shoot Stan and I got him in the back with a pitch fork. Please don’t turn us in,” said Jeremiah.

Simon started to laugh and put his knife away. “I know someone else who is hiding from the law as well, huh John?” said Simon.

“Sit back down, boys. Hey Horace. Bring us another round of whiskey for my new friends,” said John patting me on the back.

John bought us drink after drink. I was getting drunk. John told us that he had sold his farm and was planning an expedition down the Ohio river to explore the land south in the place called Kentuckee. We begged to be brought along, but John said he was only taking men from his regiment. John was drunk and went to sleep it off. Simon told me that I could get to Kentucky easily if I followed the river far to the west and take any river to my left, past the point where the buffalo crossed the river. We thanked Simon for the drinks and left him sitting in the bar.

The whiskey had made us rather drunk. We stumbled out of the tavern and wandered through the dark chasing after each other like children. Jeremiah tackled me in the tall weeds and we lie there together laughing. The rain had stopped  but the grass was very wet. Jeremiah had a hard time getting to his feet. I let him use my shoulder as a crutch.

“You’re such a good friend to me Silas. I love you man.”

“Yeah, I love you too Jeremiah,” I said feeling as though it was just the alcohol talking.

“I really mean it Silas,” he said as he kissed me on the cheek. I was shocked and aroused. I looked around if anyone could have seen us.  

“I need to get you back. You are way drunk,” I said.

“Yeah, I really am drunk aren’t I, Silas?”  

We ran like children chasing each other through the darkness. Jeremiah was stumbling and took my arm to brace himself. I wrapped his arm around my shoulder and walked him back to the inn.

“You are so good to me Silas. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

We quietly tiptoed through the reception room and up the stairs. As we entered our room Jeremiah ran and dove into the bed falling in a heap.

“Wait Jeremiah. I need to get those wet clothes off of you.”  I walked over to his bed and stood over him. He was lying on his back, smiling and looking deep into my eyes. He took my hand and placed it on his crotch. The shock of this action was terrifying and exciting. I had never touched another man in this way and it took my breath away. The heat and the size that I felt through his breeches made me instantly hard. I felt a bit embarrassed and turned away.

“What’s wrong? Oh God! Oh God, I’m sorry,” Jeremiah begged. “I just thought, I thought maybe…I think I am just drunk.”

I faced the door and said, “No no no. You did nothing wrong. I’m just not used to being hard in front of other men. I’m always afraid that it will give my secret away.”

Jeremiah sat up and moved to the edge of the bed facing me. “What secret are you hiding? he said. I turned to towards him eyeing my crotch. “You don’t have to hide that from me. I have always wanted to be closer to you. It can be our secret,” he said softly. He reached out and took my hand, pulling me down to sit beside him on the bed. He turned facing me and staring into my eyes. Ever so slowly he gently brushed the edge of his hand across my jawline then circled my lips with his index finger. “I always wanted to do that,” he said. I didn’t say a word. I sat looking into his eyes while he reached out and unbuttoned my shirt. I was breathing heavily, then he ran his hand across my chest, I gasped and closed my eyes. My heart pounded and then I felt lips against mine. I felt his breath upon my face. Leaning towards him, I kissed him back tasting the sweat of his upper lip. I pressed deeper and let my hand explore the back of his neck. Soon our hands were groping each other’s bodies. Like two hungry beasts we tore into each other’s clothes to expose naked flesh.

Jeremiah sat astride my body as I sat looking up into his blue eyes. He bent over and, beginning at my neck, kissed my body moving down towards my crotch. I gasped as his warm, wet mouth engulfed my hard cock. I was amazed at how wonderful it felt. I turned my body around in such a way that I was able to suck upon his cock as he did mine. I loved the ripe smell of his balls as he lay upon me.

Jeremiah turned around to kiss me. With his full weight upon me, he began to grind his wet hard cock against my own. Suddenly,  he sat up on his knees between my legs. He started to kiss me again as I wrapped my legs around his torso. He began to grind his cock against me again except this time I felt the head of his cock pressing against my arse.

Things were happening so quickly. He began to push his cock inside me. It hurt and I begged him to stop. He tried again more slowly and despite the pain, I allowed him to enter me.  Once I got used to the feeling, Jeremiah picked up the pace. Soon the bed was thumping along with our passionate embrace. Jeremiah started to moan and then his body stiffened. I felt a wetness inside and then I came. Jeremiah collapsed on top of me breathing heavily. He whispered in my ear asking if I was okay. I nodded yes and kissed him. I was afraid others had heard heard the noise. Jeremiah held me close and we fell asleep naked in each others arms.

The next morning I awoke lying next to Jeremiah, the love of my life, but fear gripped me. It was something we needed to hide from the rest of the world. Jeremiah felt me stirring and jerked awake.

“We can’t be seen like this,” he said as he jumped out of bed and frantically put on his clothes.

“Nobody can hear us,” I said.

“But it’s wrong. God can see us,” he said.

“God knew our thoughts. He knew this was right, no matter what others might think. You know this is true,” I said reaching for his hand.

There was a knock at the door and Mrs Galbraith cracked open the door. Jeremiah dropped my hand and jumped away. “I hope you men are hungry. There will be breakfast downstairs as soon as you are dressed.”

Things felt awkward that morning. We went through the motions of getting dressed not saying more than a couple of words. I saw a familiar fear in his eyes this morning. We needed to talk in private, but it seemed unlikely now. Walking down the stairs we checked our clothes and straightened our hair hoping to hide any sign that something might appear different.

Mrs Galbraith greeted us at the bottom of the stairs, “Good morning boys. I trust you slept soundly.”

“Oh yes ma’am. I slept quite soundly,” I said smiling.

“Oh yes, such a big change from the cold hard ground ma’am,” said Jeremiah being overly polite. We entered the dining room to find Hosiah, Caleb and a tall older man named Henry with greying hair from dinner last night. Caleb had a pile of food setting on the table before him. He was in a heated conversation with Henry over Jesus’s message of loving your enemy and turning the other cheek.

“I ain’t about to love them savages that run around killing off innocent God fearing people. You can’t turn the other cheek or you will be dead,” said Henry shaking his fist in anger.

“You can’t exactly blame them. We, as a people, have done some very unchristian-like things to them. Just twelve years ago here at this very city, the soldiers at the fort gave blankets infected with smallpox to the Indians and look what it has done to the local populations. Maybe it is time we started showing more kindness and a little less hate. It is not something our Lord and savior would have approved of,” said Caleb getting a little red in the face.  Hosiah raised his head and smiled wide as we took a seat at the table.

“Ahh if it isn’t my dear cousins. I trust you two had goodly rest. And I must say dear Mrs Galbraith that you have outdone yourself again, for this is indeed one fine breakfast.”

Mrs Galbraith put her hand on her hips and smiled. “Well thank you, Reverend. I hope you boys are hungry for some bacon, eggs, biscuits, gravy and some fresh milk,” said Mrs Galbraith walking towards the kitchen.

“Oh yes, ma’am. It smells quite nice,” Jeremiah said. She brought us breakfast and Caleb had us join hands and led us in a quick saying of grace.

I noticed a quietness that came over the table. We were eating in silence. I was doing my best to hide my feelings of guilt by just smiling and not saying anything. Jeremiah sat with his head looking down, not making eye contact. Caleb must have noticed that we were acting strangely as he eyed us curiously.

“I came by your room last night, but you didn’t answer the door,” said Caleb.

“Well, Jeremiah and I stepped out and walked down to the tavern.”

Caleb raised an eyebrow and said, “Hmmmm, I see.”

“We were talking with a couple of men who were planning to take canoes down the Ohio river. We tried to invite ourselves along, but they wouldn’t have any part in it. However they were rather friendly and insisted that we be their guests and bought us a few beverages,” I said.

“And by beverage I suppose you mean you drank hard liquor?”said Caleb.

“Yes, I suppose that would be the gist of it,” I said slightly annoyed.

“Well, my dear cousins, tonight is your lucky night for sure. For you can listen to me deliver onto you, God’s warning against sin and his glorious forgiveness. I trust to see you there,” said Caleb.

“Oh yes, yes we will be there,” we both said nodding our heads in agreement. I felt relieved that he decided not to pry deeper and that he seemed satisfied that he found the reason for our guilt.  

Late that afternoon, Caleb converted his wagon into a stage. The covering came down and he stood upon a wooden platform complete with a podium. He set up his stage in a big open field beside the river. People from all around brought chairs, stood or sat in the grass. I watched as Hosiah eagerly helped Caleb put the show together.  

I pulled Hosiah aside, “Hosiah, you don’t have to work so hard because you are only pretending to be Caleb’s assistant.”

“No, I am his assistant. Caleb promised to take me back east and pay for my trip back to Africa if I become his assistant,” he said.

I was shocked. In a way, I just assumed that Hosiah would travel with us. It didn’t seem very probable that he would ever find a way back, but we just played along.

“Do you trust Caleb to do this?” I asked.

“Yes, I think so. He is a man of God. He say God will find a way. I have to believe this. I need to go home. You understand?” he said with teary eyes.

“I will miss you Hosiah,” I said giving him a big hug.

“I won’t forget you, ever. On some starry night like this, I will remember how it was to run all night long with you and Jeremiah till we nearly died. How we almost got shot and beat to death, but mostly I will think how we was good friends who watch out for each other. I don’t want to go, but I have to, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” I said giving him another hug.

Caleb came waddling around the side of the wagon. “Ah I see you heard the news. Come my dear “cousin” and get yourself a good seat because tonight the message of God will echo into the valleys and beyond. Thomas, help me light the torches.”

I noticed that a much larger crowd of men women and children stood or sat in the grassy field facing the setting sun west across the river.  Caleb stood atop his wagon encircled by seven blazing torches. It was quite a sight to behold. I found Jeremiah standing on the grass talking to Mr and Mrs Galbraith and Amity.

“Come stand beside us, Stanley. I was just telling your brother how lucky we are to have Amity come work for us. She has become a fine cook and should make someone a fine wife someday,” Said Mrs Galbraith. “I think your brother is a bit shy, but maybe we can loosen his tongue.” I turned to look at Jeremiah who smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

I heard movement behind me. I turned to see a group of soldiers from the fort marching in formation towards us. The leader called halt and said to Caleb, “Sir, I hope you will allow me and my men to listen to your sermon. My men don’t get much chance to hear the Lord’s word this far out in the wilderness.”

“Indeed please do. I have come to share the good word with all that will listen. I hope you and your men enjoy my sermon.”  Caleb stood before the crowd and adjusted his glasses. He opened his Bible and took a deep breath. “Welcome friends and neighbors. The lord has truly blessed this gathering tonight. For as it says in Matthew 18:20, For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them. And from the size of this crowd, I can most assuredly say, that the lord is indeed in the midst of us,” he said before a roar of amens and hallelujahs.

“I have traveled far and wide across this beautiful continent that our lord has led us to. We came to this new land for various reasons. Some of us came to escape religious persecution, for some it was a chance to escape poverty or prison, or perhaps the adventure of exploration. We now are like the children of Moses who have settled down upon this land of milk and honey. The promised land rich and alive beneath our feet.” Caleb reached down and picked up a ram’s horn. He held it to his lips and blew. The trumpet sounded loudly and echoed through the valley. The people gasped and some covered their ears.

“ In Exodus 19, it says that Moses blew a shofar such as this.

”And it came to pass on the third day in the morning, that there were thunders and lightnings, and a thick cloud upon the mount, and the voice of the trumpet exceeding loud; so that all the people that were in the camp trembled. And Moses brought forth the people out of the camp to meet with God; and they stood at the nether part of the mount. And Mount Sinai was altogether on a smoke, because the LORD descended upon it in fire: and the smoke thereof ascended as the smoke of a furnace, and the whole mount quaked greatly. And when the voice of the trumpet sounded long, and waxed louder and louder, Moses spoke, and God answered him by a voice.”

Just as Moses had called forth his people with the shofar, I have blown the shofar to call forth God’s flock to this sacred gathering.”

Caleb talked about the blowing of trumpets that brought down the walls of Jericho and announcing the start of Jubilee. Caleb raised his fists and the fire from the torches made his face shine. Women fainted and men were brought to tears among shouts of amen, hallelujah and glory be to god.

Caleb then opened his Bible to Matthew 5 through 7 and read the sermon on the mount. He compared the politics of Jesus’s time to what was happening here and now. The relationship between the settlers and the Indians and the rule of the British crown held over the colonies.

By the end of the sermon, there was no dry eye. Men were cheering and some of the women had fallen prostrate upon the ground. Even the soldiers who stood in formation were moved to tears. His message was ultimately a call to freedom both in the spiritual sense as well as the physical. The people flocked before Caleb’s wagon at the conclusion of the service giving him money, and thanking him for such a rousing show.

Most of the people had retired for the evening except Hosiah who was putting away Caleb’s things. Jeremiah was busy talking with Amity. Mr and Mrs Galbraith were talking with Mr. Trask, the owner of the local gristmill. Breathless and sitting on the edge of the wagon, Caleb wiped the sweat from his forehead. I sat down beside him and patted his shoulder.

“Caleb, that was a truly amazing performance. I have never seen anything like that.”  

“Thanks ever so much Silas. The lord has blessed me with the ability to move a crowd. And I want to repay you men for accompanying me into town. I plan to furnish you with some of the things you will need to start a new life in the wilderness. I will give you all the money that has been given to me,” he said.

“Why would you do this? Don’t you worry about food or shelter?”I said.

“Remember what I just said about the birds of the air and that they neither sow or reap or go into barns, yet the heavenly father feeds them? And about the lilies of the field and how they never toil or spin yet are better adorned than King Solomon? God said first seek the kingdom of god and all else shall be added. I live my life this way. I trust that as long as I am faithful, the Lord shall provide my other needs.”

“You are probably the nicest man I know Caleb. I would never do that for a complete stranger.”

“Maybe you would be too if you were trying to live by the example that Jesus taught us. I try my best to live my life that way, but I always fall short and the good part is that God will always forgive you no matter how bad the sin,” said Caleb patting me on the back. “Well I am going to stop right there. I think if I keep yapping my voice might give out. You have yourself a glorious night.”

In a jolly mood, Jeremiah and I rushed back to our room with the promise of a night filled with passion and debauchery. It was late, and most everyone had retired for the night. The lobby was dark. Jeremiah lit a lantern and I followed him through the lobby. We disturbed the poor wretched red bird who sat nearly naked on its perch. Its beautiful red feathers lay scattered on the floor of its small cage.

Jeremiah observed the bird and said, “They need to turn that bird loose. Can’t they see it would rather die than live in this cage?”

“Kinda like us huh?” I said.

Jeremiah picked up the cage and carried it to the door. He opened the small wire door and whispered, “Go, go fly away.” It just sat there on the perch. He reached inside and grabbed the frightened bird. He placed it on the ground and it hopped away unable to fly.

“Something will kill that bird if the cold doesn’t get it first,” I said.

“At least he will die free,” Jeremiah said.

“Mrs Galbraith is going to be so angry in the morning,” I said.

“I don’t care. They can’t prove it was us.”  With a big smile on his face, he replaced the cage and followed me to the stairs. The boards creaked loudly as we ascended. I reached over and felt Jeremiah’s arse. He turned smiling, slapped my hand away, and whispered, “Wait.”  

We tip-toed down the hall, me holding the lantern. I opened the door being careful not to make noise, but once inside, Jeremiah grabbed me around the waist and kicked the door closed.

“Shhhhhh, people might hear us.” I whispered. Jeremiah smiled and kissed me as we stood beside his bed. He started to undress me layer by layer. I did the same with his clothes until we were both naked.  He took my hand and led me to his bed. We went at it like two animals in rut. Sweating and grunting. The bed was creaking loudly. Panting I said, “We need to be quiet.” Jeremiah got on top of me kissing me deeply and I could feel him entering me slowly at first. He gathered a slow rhythm and I was unable to hold back and shot my seed hitting my eye.  Jeremiah groaned and his body stiffened. He looked deeply into my eyes and collapsed on my chest. I felt the wet stickiness dripping between us. Jeremiah breathing heavily, rolled over lying beside me.

“Silas, do you believe in fate? The moment I first met you,…I thought I had known you forever. Does that sound crazy?”  

“Not at all, before I met you, I was ready to give up. I knew I couldn’t live at that place any longer. But when I met you, you gave me purpose and a reason to live. You are the reason we are here right now. You know I love you, don’t you?” I said holding his hand.

“Do you think we are going to hell for what we did? said Jeremiah.

“No, why would God punish us for our love for each other? Why would he punish us for wanting to be free? Why would he punish us for defending ourselves? What were we supposed to do, just turn over and die? Hell no! God knows what we went through. If he is a good and just God, he would understand. I would do anything for you Jeremiah,…anything.”

Early the next morning we were awoken by a knocking on our door. My first reaction was to freeze, but I jumped up from being spooned by Jeremiah. Naked, I fumbled for my clothes, but the door opened just as I was putting on my breeches sitting on the edge of Jeremiah’s bed. Caleb’s eyes were wide and he cocked his head.

“It is none of my business what you two were doing. That is between you and the Lord. You two need to get dressed quickly.”

Jeremiah jumped up, “What’s going on?”  

“On my way to the livery stables, I overheard a rough looking man asking one of the soldiers if they had seen a runaway slave accompanied by two young white men. I brought your horses and have them around back. I am guessing it is not safe for you here any longer,” said Caleb breathing heavy.  

I grabbed the musket and ran to the window and looked down on the street. “What did this man look like?” I said.  

“He was tall, missing teeth and wore a bear-skin jacket.”

I sat down on the edge of the bed running my hands through my hair. Jeremiah quickly got dressed and said, “What are we going to do?”

“Hosiah is back in the room packing our things. I told him to stay out of sight until we are ready to leave. You boys still need to buy supplies. You can’t just run off without food, clothes and tools,” said Caleb.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. The three of us went silent and stared at one another. I opened the door to find Amity standing there in her night coat.

“Please excuse the intrusion, but I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation. Don’t worry, I won’t tell. Are you in some sort of trouble? Oh and by the way, I was wondering if you might have seen a lost red bird. Somehow it escaped from its cage and my aunt is very upset. She has me looking everywhere for it.” Jeremiah and I instinctively turned to look at each other to see if the other would speak. “Oh whatever, that poor bird was about to die anyway. It looked like a plucked chicken. I hope she never finds that wretched thing.”

“Amity, my dear, let me explain. These boys had run into a little situation…”

“No need to explain Mr. O’Brian. My friend Nancy Hagan told me that her husband had been drinking with John Hinkson and Simon Girty the other night and they had met two young men who had escaped from some plantation with a runaway slave. I know that has to be Thomas, because he’s the only negro in town.”

“How many people know about this?” Said Caleb.

“Just me, Nancy and her husband, John Hinkson and Simon Girty. There might be others I just don’t know,” said Amity.

“Oh Lord help us! What were you boys thinking?” said Caleb.

“Jeremiah said he had never drank whiskey and I thought that since we would be going west, this might be his only chance,” I said.

“Well look where that got you. The evils of alcohol and all the troubles it causes! But nothing we can do about that now. Now we have to think of a plan to get out of here,” said Caleb shaking his head.

“What did they say about us?” said Jeremiah.

“Oh they thought you were making up the entire story until they saw the scars,” said Amity looking downward. “I’m so sorry. I want to help. Is there anything I can do?”

“Amity, my dear, there is something you can do. Could you sell me one of your old dresses, a bonnet, and some gloves? Bring them around back to the wagon but don’t let anyone see you. I have an idea,” said Caleb.

There was noise at the bottom of the stairs.

“Amity, dear! Have you found my bird yet?” said a frantic female voice.

“No ma’am. I’ve searched the upstairs and downstairs and haven’t seen  any site of your bird,” yelled Amity to the voice below.

“Come on down, dear. I want you to check the pantry,” said the voice.

“I’ll be right down Aunt Clara!” she yelled then turned to us. “I need to be going, but if I can be of any help let me know,” Amity said smiling at Jeremiah as she ran out of the room.

“Hurry up, boys. I’m afraid time is not on our side,” said Caleb, wiping his brow.

Hosiah peeked his head in the door. “Jer’miah, Silas they come for us again. What we gonna do?” he said pacing the floor.

“Don’t worry Hosiah. We must have faith in the lord that he will deliver us to safety,” said Caleb.

We hastily got dressed, grabbed the muskets and saddlebags and headed down the stairs. Mrs Galbraith was looking underneath the sofa in the lobby as we entered the room. She quickly got to her feet.

“Leaving so soon gentlemen?”

“I’m afraid so ma’am. We have a long journey before us and we need to get an early start,” said Caleb.

“At least stay and have breakfast. You gentlemen haven’t seen a lost bird by chance? It got loose during the night and I have been searching for it all morning.”

“I am sorry ma’am but we have not seen your poor lost bird. I would love more than anything to partake in such a fine breakfast, but alas I want put a few miles behind us before the rain makes traveling more difficult. You boys go ready the horses and I will be right out.”

The sky was getting dark and the wind was picking up. We found the wagon and the horses behind the inn just past the tree line. Caleb stood by the back door and waited. The door opened and Amity handed him a box and as he was about to pay her she shook her head no and gave him a big hug. Caleb took the box and quickly walked towards us.

Caleb handed the box to Hosiah and said, “Put these on. I have an idea.” Caleb dug into his trunk and found a powdered wig and a jar of cream. As Hosiah put on the dress and bonnet Jeremiah started to giggle.

“Why you want me to dress like a woman?” said Hosiah frowning.

“No one will be looking for a white woman,” said Caleb dabbing the make-up on Hosiah’s face. “Gonna make you look as white as a proper English woman.” Caleb took out some powder and applied it to Hosiah’s face and neck. “There, that should do.”  He pulled out an old white wig from the truck and combed it out and placed it on Hosiah’s head and then the bonnet. “Turn around. How does he look to you boys?”

“Oh my! He looks like someone’s grandma,” I said.

“Hmmmm. Maybe this will help,” said Caleb as he dug through the trunk and pulled out a pair of wire rimmed glasses. “Ahhh, perfect.”

“I can’t see,” said Hosiah.

“As soon as we get you out of town you can take all this off.  Silas I want you to take my wagon into town and buy tools, seeds and clothing that you will need for your journey. Hosiah, I want you to stay put on the wagon and pretend to be Silas’s mother. If someone wants to talk, just nod and wave, but don’t say anything. Be as quick as possible. When you are finished, go north and follow the river east until you come to a trading post. I will be there with Jeremiah. I think I can trade your horses for canoes. God be with you.”

The sky was completely overcast and the wind had picked up. Hosiah and I took the wagon pulled by old Jezebel and headed for the trading post. Hosiah sat on the wagon as I went inside the trading post. Not many people were there because of the coming storm. I bought a shovel, a hoe, a saw, an axe, knives, some gunpowder, a lantern, lamp oil, three bags of corn, three bags of dried beans, salt, a skillet, and a cooking pot, two wool blankets and a few other essential items.  

A young man helped me load the wagon and said, “Is that your mother? I said hello, but she just nodded and kept her head down. Is she okay?”

“Oh yes, she had a stroke last year and it left her unable to speak and her mouth droops. She’s a bit embarrassed to be seen.”

“I am sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. So are you planning to go downriver? You need to be careful. The indians won’t hesitate to kill you or worse,” he said.

“There are other families with us. We won’t be going alone,” I said.

“Well take care. I best get back. This rain is getting worse.” He looked over at Hosiah and yelled, “You have a good day ma’am.”

I got up on the wagon with Hosiah and saw that he was shaking. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t like this,” said Hosiah. “Wonder if they find out?”

“So far things are okay. Just a little longer. Once you get across the river things should be better. Getty-up Jezebel!”

We slowly rode east beside the river bank past the clusters of farms. There was a small Indian trading post. Jeremiah came out from a small teepee and met us on the path. He appeared to be limping.

“What happened to you?” I asked.

“I twisted my ankle getting down off the horse. Caleb thinks it is just a sprain. I was worried about you guys. I didn’t know if we should go back looking for you,” said Jeremiah.

“Where is Caleb?”

“He’s working out a deal to trade the horses for two canoes and a guide who agreed to go along.”

I told Hosiah to stay put on the wagon with Jeremiah while I went to the teepee.  I walked inside dripping from the rain. Caleb sat on an old buffalo pelt in front of a small fire and across him sat two men. One was an older indian dressed in deer skins and wore a broad rimmed hat made from beaver pelt. Next to him was an older middle-aged stocky bear of a man with long dark hair, a thick dark beard, and wearing a rather large wooly coat made of buffalo and a ragged tricorn hat.

“Silas, come on in. This is my friend Mingan. He has agreed to buy the horses in exchange for the canoes and this is Claude who has agreed to be your guide and interpreter in exchange for the canoes once you reach your destination. Do you think this is a fair deal?” said Caleb. I nodded yes and we shook hands. “It is done then,” said Caleb.

“We must go now and load the canoes before the heavy rains come. It is a dangerous time of the year to travel. Big storms can swamp a canoe and lightning can kill,” said Claude standing and pulling me to my feet.

We went out to the wagon and pulled it near the bank of the river where two canoes were tied to the bushes. Hosiah, Claude, Caleb and I quickly unloaded the supplies from the wagon while Jeremiah sat resting his foot. The rain was more than a drizzle now. Claude and I were strapping the supplies securely to the floor of one of the canoes. Once our supplies were emptied, Caleb stood wiping his brow.

“Well my dear friends, I suppose this is the moment that we must say farewell. It is my sincere hope that the Lord shall watch over us all and deliver us safely to our separate destinations. And though we will probably never meet again, you shall always and forever remain in my thoughts and prayers.” I looked over and saw Jeremiah’s head slumped down as tears poured from his eyes. Hosiah went over to Jeremiah and hugged him tightly.

“Don’t be sad, Jer’miah. This is good.”

We hugged and shook hands. I tried not to cry, but my eyes filled with tears and I looked away. Hosiah and Caleb climbed aboard the wagon.

“The man at the ferry has agreed to take us across the river. It would probably be easier to ride east from here, but also more likely to be caught by that tracker. Farewell my friends! Gettyup ole Jezebel!” he said whipping the reins.

The wagon rode off a few hundred yards east where we could see the man with the ferry. I watched as they boarded the crude vessel. A rope was tied between two large trees on either side of the river and the man pulled the raft across to the other side. I watched as the wagon rode out of sight over the hill.

As we were packing the canoe, Claude said, “I didn’t want to say anything in front of your friend, but that is one ugly woman!”

“Oh that isn’t really a woman. It is our negro friend Hosiah. He is dressed as a white woman because some man wants to capture him and take him back to Maryland,” I said.

“Then your friends are in great danger because there is a man who has been searching for you and your friend. He came by here just this morning asking if I had seen a runaway nigger and two white boys. That looks like him down by the ferry,” said Claude.

I looked towards the ferry and saw two men. One was pointing to the other side.

Jeremiah jumped up and said, “We gotta do something Silas! We can’t let him get them!”

“Claude can you take me across without being seen?” I said.

“If we go downstream just a bit, I can hide the canoe in the reeds. You would have to run to catch up to them. I been over there plenty of times but I can’t run like I used to. That man is bad news.”

As they were crossing, we put the empty canoe in the water and started to paddle across going downstream. Once the ferry had arrived on the far shore, we doubled back paddling against the current. The tracker had already rode out of sight by the time we reached the far shore not far from where the ferry let him off.

“There’s a trail that runs a bit beside the main road and eventually they join up. Keep as quiet as you can. The only way you are going to get him is to catch him by surprise. I’ll wait for you here, but if you ain’t back in a few hours I’m going back across, okay?” said Claude.

“Yeah, if I ain’t back by then we are probably dead.”

My heart pounded as I ran up the hill. They were on horseback and I realized that the chances of me running into them was slim, but I just had to try. The rain was coming down harder now. I was soaked and cold. I knew that ole Jezebel hated walking in the rain and mud and I was counting on them slowing down going up the hill. Once I reached the top of the hill, the trail and the road had merged. Suddenly I thought I heard something further down the hill. I got back in the tree line and crawled quietly on my hands and knees trying to get a better look. Sure enough, I saw the top of ole Jezebel’s head. I heard the sound of a man sobbing. Then I heard laughter.

“You make one ugly white woman, nigger,” the voice said.

“Leave him alone. You can have everything I own, just let the man go,” Caleb’s voice said.

“Oh indeed I plan to take everything, the wagon, your money, the nigger and your life. Cept I ain’t got no use for that worthless mule. I plan to put that sorry thing out of its misery just like I plan to do to you preacher-man. If you got anything to say to your god, you best be doing it now.”

I crawled closer to get a better look. I saw a tall white haired man pointing a rifle right at Caleb’s head. Caleb was on his knees facing the man while Hosiah was lying face down in the mud behind the wagon. I was shaking as I loaded the pistol. My breathing was rapid. I needed to steady myself. I rested the barrel of the pistol in the crook of a branch. I could hear Caleb praying to God to deliver them from evil. I took aim just above dead center of the man’s chest and took and deep breath, and as I slowly breathed out I pulled the trigger. The shot rang out ringing in my ear and the recoil made me fall backwards. A cloud of white smoke hung in the air with the smell of gunpowder. I waited for sounds. I was too scared to move. I stayed silent. Soon I heard the ungodly wailing and crying. Still no sounds of running, no second shot. Jezebel started braying and kicking at the mud.

Then a voice, timid at first. “Anybody there? Anybody there? Oh dear lord you have indeed delivered me from evil yet again.”

I got to my feet and peered down upon the road. There sat Caleb sitting on his heels, his hands clasped in prayer. Hosiah got to his feet looking down upon the fallen man face down in a puddle of blood.

I called out, “Caleb! Hosiah! Are you okay?”

Caleb looked up with his eyes full of tears. It was the first time I had seen him cry. Hosiah sprinted towards me yelling, “Silas! Silas! Silas!” I stood there in the weeds and brambles shaking. Hosiah grabbed me tightly around the waist knocking us both into the wet grass and leaves. “Thank you Silas, thank you, thank you thank you.” Then he kissed me on the cheek.

I was speechless. My knees felt rubbery. Hosiah held me up and walked me to the wagon. I helped Caleb to his feet. He was weeping uncontrollably. He looked deep into my eyes sobbing.

“Surely you must believe in God now. As God is my witness, he has delivered you to me once again and steadied your aim in my true moment of need,” he said hugging me around the waist.

“I don’t know. I was hoping that ole Jezebel would once again refuse to go up a muddy hill and sure enough, I was right,” I said smiling through teary eyes.

“Oh lord be praised and yet another miracle! And to think I was planning to get rid of that sorry mule.” Caleb walked over to Jezebel patting her on the head. “Well Jezebel, I guess I’m stuck with you now.”

“Oh man! what is that smell?” I said scrunching my nose.

“I am afraid that is me Silas. For when I heard that gun blast, I thought the lord had forsaken me… and I shat my drawers.”

I helped Caleb and Hosiah bury the body in the woods. We sat for just a few minutes and once again I said my farewells. Walking back down the hill I realized I would never see my friends again.    

A steady rain now fell over the muddy hillside. I reached the bottom of the hill on the banks of the Allegheny river where I found Claude sitting under a tree covered in his bear-skin coat.

“Silas, I was thinking ‘bout leaving, but something told me to wait just a bit longer. I heard one shot, then everything was quiet for a long time.  

One shot made me stay. If you had been killed I think there would have been more shots. One to kill you and the other to kill Caleb. I waited for a second shot. When I didn’t hear it, I thought, maybe he did kill the man. I was right. Let us go get your friend.”

We crossed the river once again and found Jeremiah sitting in the teepee with Mingan keeping warm beside his fire. He stood up and gave me a big hug. He looked at me with tears in his eyes. “Are they okay?”

“Yes, all is okay now. We don’t have to worry about that tracker anymore.” That was all I said. The less people knew, the better.

Jeremiah and Claude took a seat in the empty canoe and I got in the one loaded with the provisions. Claude told me to stick close by being careful to watch out for floating logs and to not get too far behind. The river could be a dangerous place in the rain. The Ohio river quickly took us north through Indian territory. We had to keep mostly to the middle of the river to avoid being shot by arrows or bullets. We managed to avoid the many sandbars that lay hidden just beneath the surface with his expert guidance. There was a steady drizzle as we rowed in silence. I had never killed a man before and it weighed heavy on my mind. By late afternoon we had just passed by two small islands when Claude told us to stop for the night.

March 2 1775

We broke camp early. There was a light drizzle as we continued north for a few miles. By mid morning, the river curved west and shortly after, the river made a sharp turn to the south. I was cold and tired. More tired than I could remember since being on the plantation. We passed by a few more islands in the middle of the river. Clause warned me not to get too close. Sometimes they were inhabited by unfriendly natives and we could be shot by an arrow and be unaware where it came from. The wind picked up again and it got darker. The sky was boiling with dark gray clouds. I saw a bright flash near shore followed immediately by a tremendous boom! I ducked almost tipping the canoe over.  Claude yelled and motioned for me to paddle to shore. We pulled the canoes as far up on the bank as we could and tied them to the trees. Jeremiah tried to limp out of the canoe. His foot looked a bit swollen, but Claude picked him up and carried him to higher ground.

“We must watch the canoes. The river could rise during the night and we must be prepared to drag them higher into the trees. We can’t make a fire because the wood is all wet and we could be seen by any Indian for miles being this close to the river,” said Claude.

Claude and I gathered a big pile of wet leaves and piled them up on a bare patch of elevated ground. Claude and I pulled a canvas tent from his canoe and stretched it between two trees atop the leaves. The wind grew fierce as we sat huddled together with our wool blankets. Claude put his big bear-skin coat over the top of us all. The rain came pouring down with wind and lightning all about. I was terrified that we would be hit by lightning or worse a tree would blow down on top of us. Claude held us tight to his bosom and it was surprisingly dry and warm and soon I drifted off to sleep as Jeremiah took first watch.

Sometimes during the night Claude woke me up from a deep sleep. I had that dream again standing in a field with that pretty woman and two kids. It was peaceful and made me feel happy. Claude drifted off to sleep as I stared blankly off into the darkness. The major storm had passed and now it was just the constant sound of rain drops falling on the leaves and an owl somewhere behind us. The idea of the river rising in the night scared me and so did the idea of bears and Indians attacking us in the dark. My imagination was going wild. Later on it got noticeably lighter, but not much. The rain was still coming down in steady drops. And a grey overcast sky made the river look intimidating. I was sore. I could hardly raise my arms. Even my legs ached from all the running. Claude dug some hard tack and cold bacon from the canoe and we sat eating a quick breakfast.

                              March 3

Claude put Jeremiah in the canoe with the provisions and let me have a rest by sitting in the back of the empty canoe. Jeremiah was afraid of paddling the canoe by himself, but Claude assured him that it would be okay as long as he followed close behind.

The river continued south through miles and miles of unbroken forests. We were truly in territory seen by few white men. As we drifted by, deer and buffalo could be seen standing on the banks. I had never seen animals so large and powerful looking. This was certainly an amazing land. Later that afternoon the rain let up and there were some blue skies peeking through the clouds. Claude decided it might be a good idea to stretch our legs and take a piss, or maybe even set up camp for the night. We pulled the canoes over on the flat rocky shores of one small island in the middle of the river. The sun broke through the clouds a few times and put us in a jollier mood. Walking along the beach, I saw lots of crude stick figures of animals, birds and men carved into the flat rocks. One of the strange stick figures was a human figure with wings.

“Claude! Who drew these?” I said bending down running my fingers through the grooves in the rock.

“Ah those were made so long ago that no one remembers. All through these woods you can find huge burial mounds of the snake people,” he said.  

I followed Claude across the island with my musket. After an hour or so we were able to kill two ducks for dinner. Jeremiah made a small fire and we sat around the fire roasting the ducks.

“Where are you from Claude? You sound French,” said Jeremiah.  

“My father’s family is from France and settled in Nova Scotia. My father Henri Verden is the second son of fourteen children. He left Nova Scotia and became a trapper living among the Iroquois nation. He married a woman from the Seneca tribe and I am his only son. I have three half brothers who are full blooded Seneca. I grew up just a bit north of Pittsburgh. My father trained me to be a trapper since I was a young boy. I have been all the way to New Orleans by canoe and am fairly knowledgeable of the rivers,” said Claude.

“Have you ever killed a bear?” said Jeremiah.

“Sure, many times. Where do you think this bear coat came from? I have killed bear, mountain lions, buffalo, deer, mink, rabbits, beaver, wolves, raccoons. You name it and I probably killed it.”

Claude eyed Jeremiah as he limped about the campsite. “Sit down and take off that boot. I want to get a good look at that ankle,” said Claude. Jeremiah sat on a fallen tree and held up his foot. Claude pulled the boot off and poked and turned it over in his big hands. “It is not very swollen and doesn’t appear to be broken. I think you should be fine. Put your boot back on. When it got dark, Claude put out the fire. He said that Indians could see the light from miles away.

                             March 4

The next morning Jeremiah reboarded the canoe with Claude and we shoved off heading downstream. The rest of the day we headed mostly south passing other small islands. A big log floated towards us and Claude paddled quickly to the right. I barely missed being hit and Claude yelled at me to be more careful. It was a beautiful sunny day. Later that afternoon we stopped on the shore near a thicket. He said it would be best to sleep in thickets so we wouldn’t be easily seen. We pulled the canoes up into the tall grass and covered them with brush. Claude took out his bow and had me follow him into the woods. At the edge of the woods was a slight clearing and three turkeys wandered through the grass. He handed me the bow and said,“Here Silas, you need to learn to use a bow. Here in the woods you will not have gunpowder. It would be best if you make yourself a bow and learn to shoot silently.” He stood behind me and had me draw back the string. His big hand covering mine. “Aim just slightly above the head and breathe deep. As you breathe out, release the arrow.” I aimed at a turkey and felt Claude’s breath on my neck. I took a deep breath and released. The arrow whizzed silently through the air striking the bird in the breast. It fell lifeless in a heap onto the forest floor. “We are having turkey tonight,” He said picking up the bird. As we were walking back he showed me some of the edible plants and the ones to avoid.

When we got back to the canoes, Jeremiah had fallen asleep and had covered himself with the wool blanket. Claude had me look for some dry wood while he dug a fire pit and stacked big rocks and dirt on either side. I came back with some dead wood and dead red cedar branches.

“Why are you digging it so deep?” I asked.

“Don’t want it to be seen at night. If I dig it deep no one can see it from a distance. We need to keep the fire small and hot,” he said.

Once the fire had burned a while he had me gut and pluck the feathers from the bird. He placed it over the fire with green hickory branches. The smell of the turkey was making me so hungry. It had been a long tiring day and felt good not to be wet.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what the fuck do two boys like you think you are doing moving this far away from other white people? Don’t you know that if any of these Indians see you, they will either kill you or kidnap you?”

“I don’t think we have much choice. Both of us will be hanged if they catch us. We killed those men that were chasing us. Nobody will believe it was self defense. I just figure what we got to lose? Least in Kentucky we can be far from other white people and can have us our own farm too,” I said.

“I been livin’ in da woods all my life and it ain’t easy stayin’ hidden. They always find you sooner or later. I done my share of bad things and it ain’t no easy life always runnin’,” said Claude.

“Did you ever want to settle down someday Claude?”

“I did once, ‘bout seven years ago. I met me a good Shawnee woman. We lived in a little village north of Pittsburgh. She was pregnant with my kid, but I was gone to town one day and when I got back, the village was burned and my wife and kid was killed. I was raging mad. I thought it was white soldiers who did it, but I discovered it was some drunk Indians from another tribe. I killed all three of them and they was just boys not much older than you. Can you believe that? I couldn’t live around people after that. I went back to being a trapper and a interpreter.” He wiped his eyes with his big grubby fingers and said, “Well that turkey is ‘bout done. You best go wake your friend.”

That night after eating dinner, I took first watch. There was a clear cool sky. A heavy frost was forming and water puddles were freezing. My breath hung in the air. Looking out across the river through the brush, I saw the dark shape of the land on the other side in contrast to star filled sky. Sometimes during the night I noticed strange flickering blue and red lights hovering above the trees. It was too cold for lightning bugs, no clouds for lightning. I had heard of the northern lights, but I had never seen them before. I sat staring at them for hours and sometime during the night I woke up Jeremiah to take second watch.

                                  March 5

Jeremiah woke me up the next morning. A heavy fog had formed during the night and the trees were covered in a feathery coating of white frost. It was one of the most beautiful and wondrous sites I had ever seen. I couldn’t see much a few feet ahead of me. Claude woke up yawning and said, “We must be very careful in the fog. We need to stay close or we can get lost. Trees and rocks can put a hole in the canoes if we run into them. We put the canoes into the river and I rode in the canoe with Claude and Jeremiah followed close behind us. Once, from our location in the middle of the gigantic, languid river, the bank on either side could not be seen.

By mid morning the fog had burnt off and the sun shone briefly in places. I saw the sunlight hitting the white trees on the banks and it sparkled like diamonds. Soon the sun came out and the temperature rose above freezing. It was bitterly cold and my hands ached as I plunged the oar into the icy river. I was relieved when Claude decided head to shore to take a shit. Jeremiah and I found a large boulder and lay together warming ourselves in the sun.

He rolled over at me and said, “Silas, do you think we did the right thing by coming out into the wilderness so far from civilization?”

“Why do you say that?  Where else would we go?”

“It’s just that we know nothing surviving on our own.”

“We can learn a lot from Claude. We made it this far haven’t we?” I said as I squeezed his hand.

Claude emerged from the woods laughing, “You two boys are sunning yourselves like turtles on a rock. We should be going soon,” he said washing his hands in the river.

Later that afternoon I noticed that Claude was irritable and cursing. He kept picking at his teeth and growling. I asked what was bothering him but he wouldn’t say. I noticed that he’d been nipping on his whiskey all through the day. We continued mostly south until we came upon a sharp bend in the river to the west and then curved south again. Claude said it was a good place to make camp next to a small creek. We pulled the canoes up into the woods and set up camp under some old sycamore trees. Claude noticed a strange pile of stones just past the tent and seemed concerned.

“Wonder who piled these rocks here?” said Jeremiah sitting on one of the big boulders.

“These are cairns. They usually point to trail heads following game or some special spot. This one has been here a very long time,” said Claude.

We hiked a ways through the dense woods following a narrow game trail. Jeremiah sniffed the air and said he smelled smoke. Claude grabbed Jeremiah by the arm and put a hand over his mouth and whispered for us to get down. There was a strange urgency to his voice as he motioned me to sit. Claude pointed to a wisp of smoke rising above the trees just ahead of us.

Claude had us stay put while he crept ahead with his bow drawn. A considerable amount of time had passed. I began to worry that Claude wasn’t coming back.

“Should we go look for him?” said Jeremiah.

“Not yet. He said to stay put. Let’s give him a few more minutes.”

A while later we heard a rustle of leaves. We got down and hid behind a fallen tree. Something was coming towards us and to our great relief it was Claude. “Claude! Over here I whispered.” We rose to our feet. Claude motioned us towards him. Claude rushed us through the woods. Soon we were running and I knew this was serious.

Stopping to catch our breath, Jeremiah whispered, “What happened back there?”  

“I found two partially burned bodies tied to a tree,” said Claude as we looked at each other with our mouths hanging open and eyes wide with terror.  

“Were they white men or Indian?” said Jeremiah.

“I couldn’t tell. They were too badly burned, but it looked pretty recent. We need to get back to the canoes. We can’t stay here.”

Once we got back to the campsite, Claude quickly disassembled the tent and hastily packed it into the canoe and took to the river traveling well past sundown. Claude wanted to get as many miles away from that place as possible.

That night we made camp just around a bend in the river not far from the mouth of a fairly large creek. Claude pointed to smoke rising in the distance further up that creek and said it was from Grapevine town, a popular trading post of the Delaware indians.  Careful not to make ourselves known, we sat huddled in the woods next to our canoes. We didn’t make a fire nor did we set up a tent for fear of being noticed. Claude said that if the bodies were discovered there would be bloodlust on either side. Once darkness fell, the temperature dropped and I found it hard to get any sleep. The reality of being so far from civilization had sobered us. I didn’t see the bodies, but I didn’t have to because I knew the evil that men were capable of doing. Yet here in the cold dark woods I lay in the arms of my beloved, miserable and content.

                         March 6

At first light, we were once again on the river. I paddled the canoe alone following Claude.  The glare of the bright sun reflecting off the river blinded me. I fought the desire to sleep and a few times almost dropped my oar in the river. Around midday Claude motioned me to the north side of the river where big boulders lined the bank. Claude built a fire and cooked beans and bacon in a kettle over the fire. We hadn’t eaten since lunch the day prior. We ate in silence. Claude, being in a bad mood, had been drinking all morning. He took a bite of the beans and stood cursing with his fists raised. “Ahhh! God dammit!” In his rage he tossed his bowl on the ground.

What’s wrong Claude?” I asked.  

“My god damned tooth! It’s been pestering me for a couple of days now. It hurts so bad that it keeps me awake at night,” he said holding his hand against his jaw.

“Let me have a look,” I said. He opened his mouth wide and his breath was rank. He pointed to a molar that was black and half rotted.

“Yeah, that looks pretty bad,” I said.

“It hurts so much that I can hardly eat.”

“You have any kind of tongs or pliers? He can pull it out for you,” said Jeremiah.

Claude pondered the question and said,“Nah, Just have my butcher knife and my axe. There’s this this old Shawnee Indian friend who lives a few days journey from here. He might be able to help me if I can last that long.”

After lunch we took a long nap lying in the sun. We were partially concealed behind some large boulders. I fell into a deep sleep. In the dream, Jeremiah and I were happy, living like regular folk in a small town. But then the foreman and the tracker appears at our doorstep all bloody and dead saying they had come to drag us off to hell. I woke up gasping for air.

Jeremiah put his arm around me and kissed my cheek. “You were talking in your sleep again,” he said softly.

“I was? What did I say?

“You said you was sorry. You having nightmares like me about killing those guys?”

“Yeah, but this was different,” I said.

“Do you think there be demons running around in these woods?” he said looking around.

“Demons? What demons are you talking about?”

“Claude seems to think that evil spirits kilt those men for violating a sacred site.”

“Nah, the only demons running around is flesh and blood people. Claude is just superstitious. Where is he anyway?”

“In the woods taking a shit.”

I looked around to see if he was near and then reached over and pulled Jeremiah closer and kissed him on the lips. “Been wanting to do that for a long time,” I said and started going at it all hot and heavy until I heard footsteps in the woods.

Claude emerged from the woods smiling. “I feel a bit lighter after taking that huge shit. Looks like you boys are all awake and rarin to go.” He squat down at the river’s edge and washed his hands. I adjusted my britches to conceal my erection. Jeremiah sat up and buttoned his shirt. Claude walked back wiping his hands on his coat. We were breathing heavy. Claude cocked his head to one side and raised an eyebrow.

“You boys look guilty as shit. What you boys up to?” said Claude eyeing us suspiciously.

“Nuttin, we ain’t done nuttin,” said Jeremiah.

“Didn’t look much like nuttin da way you boys be pawin at each other. I know what you be doin, but it don’t matter to me. A man’s gotta scratch that itch sometimes. We best get going now.” He winked and started to whistle a tune as he repacked the canoe.

“He knows.” Jeremiah whispered.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t care,” I said reaching out to take his hand.

Back on the river, we paddled until it got dark. All tuckered out we were. We set up camp on a large wooded island. I made a fire while Claude and Jeremiah went off hunting for food. I cooked up some beans and tossed in dandelions and wild onions. Jeremiah returned boasting that he’d killed two quail with the bow. After a filling meal we camped under clear skies. Claude tried to eat a few beans, but the pain in his tooth made eating unbearable. I took first watch during the night while Claude moaned in pain.

                                  March 7

The next morning I woke to whimpers of a wounded animal. Rocking back and forth on a log sat Claude cradling his jaw and drinking whiskey.

“Are you Okay, Claude?” He shook his head no. The left side of his face was swollen and red.

“I think that tooth has to come out now. I don’t think you’re going to make it another day,” I said.

“Merde! merde! merde! Que Dieu me vienne en aide!” He reached into his sheath and pulled out a pair of pliers.

“I thought you didn’t have pliers,” I said.

“I lied.”

It wasn’t easy pulling that back tooth. Claude fought with the strength of three men. I told him to drink more whiskey to dull the pain. I pulled and yanked with the pliers. There was lots of blood. I think I got most of the tooth and had Claude bite down on a rag. He drank until he passed out.

When Claude woke up a while later still drunk and in pain, but in a much better mood. He forced a smile with his swollen mouth.

“We should go!” He said standing and scratching his ass. “Thank you, Silas.”

Claude sat quietly in the canoe behind me all morning. We traveled in a southwest direction all day. I let Claude sleep as I paddled. We stopped on the west bank of the river and found lots of ducks along the banks of some little stream emptying into the main river. Jeremiah and I searched for wild onions and dandelions in a meadow to add to the beans that Claude was cooking on a fire. As we walked along the bank, Jeremiah grabbed my arm and put his hand over my mouth, pointing at something ahead near the water. It was a catamount. I’d heard stories about these big cats before. Leaves rustled and the beast was gone back into the woods. I was breathing heavy.

“Wasn’t that wonderful?” said Jeremiah squeezing my arm.

“Yeah as long as it keeps its distance and doesn’t try to eat us,” I said.

That night we made camp on another island just past a sharp north turn in the river. The mosquitoes were unbearable, so we built a small fire hoping the smoke would drive them away. Claude slept most of the day in the canoe. He had not eaten more than a spoonful of beans in the last two days. He stayed drunk on whiskey. We let Claude sleep the entire night. I was worried that he might die from the swelling in his jaw. in the night Claude mumbled in his sleep. He was burning with fever. I could only give him water and pray for his recovery.

                                   March 8

The next morning a heavy fog settled over the valley. Claude’s fever had broken and he was sleeping soundly.  After the fog lifted, I saw smoke rising well inland across the river to our north. I whispered, “Claude, wake up. Wake up.”  His eyes shot open and his hand went for his knife. “Claude its me Silas. How do you feel? You weren’t doin’ very poorly. Me and Jeremiah was afraid you wouldn’t last the night.”

He sat up rubbing his eyes and wiping his hands across his black curly hair. “I feel like I got kicked in the head, but much better after that tooth come out and now I’m hungry.”

“I was gonna let you sleep, but I see smoke. Do you know where we are?” I said helping him to his feet.

He looked around and pondered for a bit. “Oh yeah, I know where we’re at. There’s a small village of Shawnee just on the other side of those trees. They’re friendly, but last year an entire village was butchered by orders from Lord Dunmore. I doubt if they would be so friendly now. It’s best we get far down river without being seen.”

Jeremiah came walking out of the woods panting. “Oh dear lord! I finally took a shit. What’s happening?”

“Shhhh, Indians on the other side of them trees.” I whispered.

Jeremiah helped me get Claude to the canoe. Then we hastily broke camp and packed our gear.  As I was pushing my canoe into the river, I spotted a small round object jutting out among the rocks. It was a flat smooth green rock about four inches in diameter with the image of a hand with an eye in the middle and strange writing around the edges. I put it in my pouch and thought nothing more of it.

We rowed past the mouth of a major stream and were lucky not to see any Indians. The sun came out and it got warm. We paddled nearly half the day before taking a break. I was sunburnt and the glare off the river made my eyes hurt.

The river took a sharp turn to the right and in the distance we could see another large island. Claude motioned for me to follow quietly as we hugged the shore keeping low. The island stretched on for miles. At the far end Claude motioned for me to pull my canoe ashore.

“My friend, an old Delaware Indian lives on this island. Wait here and be quiet. If I’m not back before the sun goes down or if you hear gunshots, you take the canoes downstream a bit and wait.”

“If your friend lives here, why are you afraid something might happen?” said Jeremiah.

“He’s very old and it’s been many years since I have seen him. He might not live here anymore, or he might be dead. In either case, it’s good to be careful.”

I sat with Jeremiah on the rocks beside the canoes as we watched Claude slip into the woods. An uncomfortable amount of time passed. Jeremiah paced back and forth kicking the rocks.

“We should go look for him. What if he’s in trouble?” he said.

“Claude wanted us to wait right here.”

Jeremiah grabbed the bow and quiver from the canoe and headed towards the woods. I ran to Jeremiah and grabbed his arm. He spun around and gave me a shove. “I’m going, Silas!”

I heard a rustle in the woods and pulled Jeremiah down to a knee. We crouched behind some brush. Footsteps and the voices of children could be heard coming towards us. As they got closer, I heard a voice, “Silas? Jeremiah? It’s Claude.”

He emerged from the woods followed by four little boys with long jet black hair dressed clothes made from deer pelts. They were happily skipping and laughing.

“Claude, we were worried you weren’t coming back,” said Jeremiah.

“Sorry boys, Didn’t mean to be gone so long. Laughing Crow has invited us to dinner.”

We left the canoes and followed Claude and the children through the woods. One of the boys grabbed Jeremiah’s hand and pulling him to walk faster. We trekked nearly a mile through the brush until it opened up to an area cleared of trees. There were six tents surrounding a much larger tent in the center. Children were running about and we were eyed curiously by women and old men. The children led us to the main tent.

We entered the tent where a fire pit was built in the center. Across the fire sat two old men smoking tobacco, dressed in deerskin robes and shell necklaces. The three of us sat down on the ground upon bear skin rugs. Claude introduced them as Laughing Crow and his brother Broken Antler.

Some of the women entered the tent bringing some sort of cake made of corn and roasted fish. Claude spoke to them in a language that we couldn’t understand. Claude turned to us and said that they had not heard of any violence upstream but had heard that white men were building a fort in that area as well as one downstream. He was concerned with the number of white settlers moving west claiming land to occupy. He said that Indians shared the land with the animals and when a piece of land was not productive any longer, they moved on and allowed the land to return to the animals, but white man takes the land and keeps it forever and doesn’t share. The white men will fight among themselves over our land and we pay the price. Then Laughing Crow pointed at the two of us and said something. Claude translated and said that he wanted to know the reason why two young men were traveling through the wilderness without horses, weapons or more people. He said that it was a dangerous time when tensions between the white man and indians were so great I said that we were going west because we had escaped being held in servitude and that we had killed two men in order to escape. Claude repeated my words in their language. The two older men talked among themselves. They said they understood and we were welcome as their guests.  Broken Antler reached out and touched Jeremiah’s red hair. Jeremiah looked annoyed but forced a smile.

Claude said they’d never seen a man with orange hair before. He said that he needed to be careful because someone would surely want his scalp.

Jeremiah turned to me and whispered, “I think I need to get my hair cut off.”

The old men offered us some tobacco. Claude said it was considered rude to refuse. Jeremiah took a puff and started to cough. The old men laughed and then it was my turn. I sucked in the smoke and it was musky and powerful. I coughed and felt dizzy. Jeremiah was not looking so good. Once I felt well enough to sit up I pulled the carved stone from my pocket. The two old men examined it turning it over and looking closely. They looked concerned and said something to Claude.

“What did they say Claude?”

“Laughing Crow says that it’s very old. He says he has seen this image once before. It has something to do with a doorway to the land of spirits. He said it came from people who lived here long before his people. He says it is bad luck to carry such token and that you would be better off to put it back where you found it,” said Claude.

After dinner the women brought blankets and we slept in the big tent. Claude stayed up late into the night talking with his friend. During the night I had dreams about the eye in the hand symbol. In the dream a clenched fist opens up and in the palm an eye stares back, yet the eye transforms into a six sided geometric figure that erupts out of the flesh and glows with a brilliant light. Then I saw a huge serpent with the antlers of a deer rising out of a pool of water. It stared at me with fierce blue eyes and then opened its mouth to strike.

I woke up in a sweat. Beside me Jeremiah slept soundly.

Early the next morning we followed the trail back to our canoes, accompanied by Laughing Crow and some of the children. The two men hugged farewell and some words were exchanged. As we pushed off I turned back to see the children standing on the shore waving goodbye. We paddled away and once we lost site of the island, Claude insisted that I toss that stone into the river. He said it was bad luck. Instead of tossing it in the river, I felt an overwhelming desire to keep it, so I tossed another stone instead and put it in my pocket.

Continuing downriver, I was having serious doubts about our dream to build a farm in the wilderness. It was just me and Jeremiah alone against wild animals, indians, and cold winters with nothing more than a few tools and a dream of a better life. Jeremiah was willing to follow me anywhere. I just hoped I wasn’t leading him to his death. Around midday Jeremiah complained of leg cramps. We pulled over on a big grassy bank so he could stretch his legs. Claude wanted to search for game and took Jeremiah off into the woods, while I stayed with the canoes. I sat on a log beneath a big tree that leaned out over the river and was mending a hole in one of my stockings.

They had been gone for only a short while, when I heard a loud pop of a musket. The birds took to the air and I ran to the canoes and crouched low. I heard a rumbling and footsteps. Jeremiah ran out of the woods yelling. “Get the canoes in the river!”

“Where’s Claude?” I said terrified and confused.

“He’s coming! Hurry!” He said grabbing my arm and pulling me along.  

Just as we paddled out a few yards, Claude sprinted out of the woods carrying his bow followed closely by a large grizzly bear. He dove into the river losing his hat. The bear followed a few feet and stopped at the water’s edge and snorted. Claude reached the canoes and held on as we paddled further out.

“We have to go back!” Jeremiah yelled.

“Why? Are you crazy? What’s back there?” I screamed.

“I dropped the musket,” said Jeremiah.

“And I ain’t leaving my damned hat!” cried Claude. “It was a gift.”

We paddled back upstream. The bear appeared to be gone. As we approached the banks Claude waded to shore shaking himself like a dog. Claude found his old tricorn hat with one of the corners chewed with ragged pieces holding on.

“God damn that bear to hell!” He slammed it down on his head stomping his feet and kicking at the dirt. I wanted to laugh. I turned away trying to conceal my snickers.

“I know you’re laughing, Silas. It’s all your fault this happened!” Claude grumbled.

“How is this my fault? I was with the canoes the entire time,” I said.

“You found that rock and now we is cursed,” said Claude getting up in my face.

“I wasn’t Silas’s fault. I’m the one that got that bad cramp and lost the musket and you’re the one who wanted to go a huntin’. That rock is just a rock with some scratchin’ on it. Anyways, Silas done throwed it away, so pay it never mind. What’s so good about that beat up old hat anyway?” said Jeremiah all pissed off.

“My papa gave me that hat before he died. It’s the only thing I have left of my family and I plans to keep it,” he said shaking his fist at us.

We walked back into the woods, and scoured the area, but couldn’t find the musket. “How did you lose it?” I asked.

“When I saw that bear running towards us, I shot and missed. When I turned to run, I tripped over a rock and dropped it,” he said pouting.

“I’m just glad nobody got killed or eaten,” I said.

We scoured the area for a long while and finally gave up the search. We paddled in painful silence the rest of the afternoon. Claude grumbled to himself as Jeremiah held his head in shame for losing the musket. We made a few quick stops before making camp on a small island consisting mostly of two dirt mounds with a few trees separated by a rocky beach. That night after a hard day of searching and paddling we sat together watching a glorious sunset after having eaten a duck shot by Claude at the island.

                                   March 9

Sometime during the night the wind picked up. The waves were lapping at the foot of our tent. Claude woke up cursing the sky and ordered us to break camp because this island wasn’t safe in a storm. Claude lit a lantern as we fumbled in the dim light. A light rain started falling by the time we left the island. We rowed across to the left bank of the river and set up our tents as the skies opened up with a steady downpour. The wind whipped up the waves as lightning struck. We huddled in the tent for a couple of hours as we waited out the storm. By mid afternoon the rain had let up enough to continue our journey.

A cold drizzle continued to fall without a break, along with a steady wind out of the west making paddling difficult. My hands ached, but only by paddling could I keep warm. Just downstream of the island was a some rapids that gave me a scare. Claude knew this part of the river and led me through it safely. I kept a short distance behind Claude’s canoe. Claude wanted me to be alert for Indians, but my mind wandered elsewhere.

On the muddy bank of the river we stopped to eat a cold meal of hardtack and jerky. We tried to make a fire, but the wood was wet. Claude grumbled to himself about his half chewed hat as I sat a ways off lost in my thoughts. Jeremiah walked over and sat on a log beside me.

“Do you think it was stupid for us to come this far out in the wilderness alone?”  

“No, where would we have gone? We wasn’t safe back there.”

Jeremiah held a lock of his red hair in his fingers. “It’s not safe here either. I don’t want to be scalped. Remember what Laughing Crow said about my red hair?”   

I took out a sharpened knife and said, “I’ll fix that.” I cut his hair as close to the scalp as I could. After I finished, a pile of orange hair lay scattered among the rocks. Jeremiah smiled and rubbed his head. “I don’t think they will take your scalp now. Not much left to take.”  Jeremiah smiled and hugged me tight.

Later that day after rowing in silence, we reached the mouth of a large tributary of the Ohio called the Kanawha. A piece of land jutted out into the river, and above the bank sat a wooden fort with two block houses at either end. As we rowed past we saw two young redcoats washing their clothes in the river. Claude wanted to investigate but warned us to have our weapons handy. As we approached, one of the men went for his rifle and pointed it at us.

“What is this place?” Claude called out.

“This is Fort Blair. Don’t you know these waters aren’t safe for white men?” said one of the tall young soldiers.

“I been down this river all my life. I think I know the danger fairly well,” said Claude pulling at his beard.

“British subjects are prohibited from traveling west of the mountains unless by special permission,” said the other soldier.

“I am not a British subject, my father was a French trapper and my mother is a Seneca squaw. I traveled this river all my life. You can’t tell me what to do!” He said defiantly puffing his chest.

The conversation got a bit heated and soon more soldiers appeared pointing their weapons at us. We were ordered to exit the canoes at gunpoint. Claude got to his feet and charged at them. A shot was fired and the fighting stopped.

“Make one more false move and the next round will be fired at your head- and I rarely miss,” said one of the young soldiers.

Jeremiah glared at me in disbelief. We were led inside the gates of a small fort. Many of the men wore bandages, splints and canes. They bound our hands and ankles in leather straps and rags and placed Jeremiah and I in a corner near a small tower guarded by a young soldier. Claude was taken inside one of the buildings for questioning.

Silently, we sat tied in the corner for hours, shivering and drenched from the light rain. Some of the soldiers walked past us staring as if we were lepers. Jeremiah struggled with his bindings as I sat trying to imagine a way out of this situation. I heard some argument coming from inside one of the buildings. When the guard turned to watch the excitement, Jeremiah showed me his freed hands and motioned me to scoot closer. I nudged up closer with my back to Jeremiah, then he pulled at my bindings.

“When I get loose I’m going for the guard and I want you to run to the gate,” Jeremiah whispered. I shook my head no, but with a stern gaze he nodded yes. “You know what they’ll do to us once they figure out who we are? They’ll hang us for sure.”  

He loosened my bindings some when I pulled away indicating that the guard was back. I worked to free my hands. A while later the guard stood and walked to the corner to piss. Jeremiah tore at the cloth that bound his ankles. My hands were nearly free. I nearly pissed myself from the fear. The soldier shook the last drops and buttoned his britches. Jeremiah now untethered, turned to free my ankles.

“He’s coming back,” I whispered.

Jeremiah sat back down and draped the cloth around his ankles. My hands were free of the leather bindings. We waited for another distraction. My heart beat rapidly. I wasn’t sure I could run so easily after sitting in the cold drizzle half the afternoon. Suddenly there was talking and the young soldier turned to towards the commotion. This was our chance. Jeremiah reached over and we tore at the rope that bound my ankles. The soldier stood at attention at saluted the man walking towards him. At that moment I heard a voice that made me pause. It was Claude laughing. Jeremiah froze and then sat back down putting the rope around his ankles. Claude and some officer emerged from around the side of the building acting like long friends.

“Corporal Yates, release these two gentlemen at once,” said the officer.

“Yes sir Captain!”

I looked at Jeremiah in disbelief and then back at Claude who held a finger to his lips. The officer was showing Claude the fort as they walked past us. The soldier was shocked to discover that we had already untied ourselves as we rose to our feet.

The soldier led us to the captain who was a tall middle-aged man wearing a powdered wig.

“Captain Russell, I wish for you to meet my two fine sons Sebastian and Jacques,” said Claude fabricating a lie.

“Pleased to meet you sir,” I said shaking his hand.

“I apologize for your ill treatment boys. We need to be vigilant these days with all the Indian attacks. Your father and I met years ago. He was an excellent scout and interpreter,” said the captain.

“I would love to talk more but, we need to get more miles behind us. Perhaps when we return we can sit, drink whiskey and talk about old times,” said Claude patting him on the back.

“Captain sir, I think there is something you should know about the prisoners. When I…” said the soldier who was cut off in mid speech.

“Corporal Yates, these men are not our prisoners, but guests.”

“But Captain these boys…”

“That’s enough soldier! Sorry Claude, these men have been through a lot having lost limb and life to those savages. I hope you can forgive my ill treatment of your boys.”

“It is fine sir, but we best be on our way,” said Claude.

The two men embraced and then Claude turned to us and winked. The gate to the fort was opened and Claude led us swiftly to our canoes.

“Wow, what great luck that you happened to be friends with Captain Russell,” said Jeremiah.

“Shhh, Keep it down. I never met that man before in my life.”

We quickly took to our canoes and paddled downstream. Claude told us that he sensed tension among the soldiers. Captain Russell had obviously lied about knowing Claude and wanted us to leave for some reason. We paddled for nearly an hour before it got too dark to see. We made a hasty camp along the right side of the river. The mosquitoes were terrible and we ate a quick meal of hardtack and beans.

During the night I dreamt I was sitting with a group of people strapped inside a long hollow tube made of strange materials. I looked out of a tiny window and discovered that it was dark outside and I was flying very high over some other worldly ground. As I looked down I saw thousands of tiny lights. I was afraid and thought I was being transported to the kingdom of heaven. I woke up in darkness trying to feel my face. I reached over and felt Jeremiah’s warm body. I wondered if this might be some message from God, but soon dismissed it as simply a bad dream.

March 10.

The next morning we awoke to clear skies. Claude emerged from the woods holding a plump duck. We were feeling rather hungry and built a small fire and enjoyed roasted duck for breakfast. Most of the day was pleasant and uneventful. Our mood had improved and things were looking up. We set up camp just a few miles where the river took a turn to the northwest.

We paddled only a few miles before my gut began to cramp. I had a most uncomfortable constipation up until this moment. I yelled back at Claude that I needed to paddle to shore immediately. He seemed to understand when he saw me clutching my stomach in pain. I squatted in some reeds and held on to some branches for support. Claude laughed as I slipped and sat in my shit. I didn’t find it so funny. I took off my britches and washed them in the river. All that morning I rowed the canoe naked below the waist and hugged the bank in case I needed to stop. Claude found some bitter plant for me to chew. He said it would ease my illness. We paddled till dusk when the river took a turn to the west. We camped in the woods past the muddy banks near a stand of sycamores. Our mood had greatly improved. Claude built a small fire and we sat up well into the night telling stories. I fell asleep in Jeremiah’s arms

                                 March 11.

We broke camp early. A cold wind blew out of the west. More strange dreams again had me feeling uneasy. We paddled at a fine pace. Each of us feeling healthy and in a good mood. My stomach felt much better and we made few stops. We saw a small herd of buffalo drinking on the bank of the river and flocks of geese flying north. The sun had warmed things up which made paddling quite enjoyable. We were now heading in a north-westerly direction for the entire day. We stopped but a few times. Once on some grassy bank we sat and had a meal. Claude sat and told us a story about how when he was a kid, he and his cousins would go hunting. One day far out in the woods hunting deer, they came across an old man sitting under an old oak tree. They asked why such an old man was by himself so far from his people. The old man said that he had come to this place to die. They tried to talk the man into coming back with them, but he insisted upon staying. The old man said that men from the stars would be coming to take his body. He said they didn’t believe the words of this crazy old man, so they stayed with him and made camp that night. Later that night while everyone was asleep, they were awoken by a dry wind and moving lights in the sky. The old man was no longer sitting by the tree, but they could hear his voice just over a rise, in the direction of the lights. Claude said that when they ran to see, he saw three spinning wheels of fire floating in the sky above the old man. It shone a bright light that made it look like daylight. They said that the lights took the old man with them as they flew away. Jeremiah laughed and said it was a good tall tale. Claude looked serious when he said he was telling the truth. I didn’t know what to think. Just the other night I dreamt of riding a craft through the heavens. Maybe God comes down from heaven in chariots of light to take some good people away. I thought about that story all the rest of the day. It made me feel uneasy.  

That night we set up camp just before the river took a turn to the west. Claude warned us that past this point things could get dangerous.  He said they were nearing a spot where he had been ambushed by Shawnees a few years back. Claude dug a small pit and built a small fire. I took second watch and spent the time staring at the stars and feeling a bit afraid that we might be visited by the lights in the sky. But nothing happened.

                                   March 12

A gentle humid wind blew in from the south. My stomach felt much better. We paddled in silence scanning the shores for Indians. The river was calm and made for an easy journey. No fighting the wind today. The river was abundant with wildlife. Turtles were sunning themselves on some rocks. The weather was warm and sunny, a perfect day to paddle a canoe. We stopped to eat a quick lunch and I found Jeremiah carving something into a tree.

“What are you carving in that tree?” I said.

“Our names and the date,” said Jeremiah.

“Which one is mine? I asked.

“Don’t you know how to read?” he said.

“No, never got a chance to go to school. We was too poor and I had to work to help support my family. You think you could teach me to read and write?”

“I don’t see why not.” said Jeremiah. Claude came back and saw us writing stuff in the mud with some sticks.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Jeremiah’s teaching me to read and write,” I said.

“Can you show me too? I never learnt neither,” said Claude grabbing a stick.

After a bit we got back to paddling downstream. Jeremiah promised to teach us more once we set up camp again for the night. I was all excited to learn what was written in books. Caleb had given Jeremiah a Bible as a gift and said he could teach us from that. We rowed a fair distance that day and decided to set up camp early. Claude and I were both eager to have our first lesson while there was still daylight.

                               March 13

I woke up out of a deep sleep. Claude was shaking me but covered my mouth with his hand. He put his finger to his mouth and pointed to the river. I kept my head down and saw five canoes with thirteen indians dressed in buckskins and buffalo robes. Some of their heads were decorated with red feathers and some had their heads partially shaved. Some sat with long rifles and bows resting in their laps while the others paddled. Soon they drifted on downstream and were out of sight.

“Who are they?” I asked.

“They’re Shawnee on a hunting trip. It is important that we keep hidden,” said Claude. “We need to go now.”

“Isn’t it safer to stay hidden?” said Jeremiah.

“No, We need to know where they go. I don’t want to be caught by surprise. We’ll follow them from a distance,” said Claude.

We quickly packed our things and climbed aboard the canoes. Claude and Jeremiah took the empty canoe and I took the loaded one and followed behind.  We hugged the shore trying to stay hidden among the reeds. We followed the Indians all morning before they pulled their canoes ashore on a small island across from a large creek emptying into the river. Claude had us pull our canoes ashore and stay low. We sat and watched for the longest time. I had to piss, but Claude told us to stay put. Finally they came back to their canoes carrying some dead birds and continued downriver. Claude told us to be quick and relieve ourselves.

We again followed them late into the afternoon. The day had warmed somewhat, but the sky was filling with clouds once again.

“It appears like we’re in for another storm. The rivers are already swollen, but it could mean that the Shawnee will probably set up camp soon before the storm hits,” said Claude.

The river made a gradual turn to the left and we lost site of the canoes.

“Slow it down, boys. They’ve either stopped, or turned up one of the creeks. Not sure if that means they’ve seen us or else they’re getting prepared for the bad weather. We should probably stop right here for the moment. I’m not in the mood to get ambushed,” said Claude.

“I don’t think we can camp here,” said Jeremiah. “The place is nothing but mud.”

“I think they’re camping on those islands up ahead ready to ambush anyone who floats by, so I’m going to do something that I told you I would never do. We’re going to wait till it gets dark and then we’re going to find large branches, twigs, and even big logs if possible and float down with them. At night if the Shawnee see us, the branches hopefully will break our outline and they’ll just think we are a fallen tree floating past them.”

I really did not like the sound of this. I was already terrified of being in the water during a storm, but being in the river at night during a storm made me want to cry. The storm came sooner than we expected with more lightning and thunder and then a steady downpour of rain. We gathered branches and sticks and poked them in every direction. Claude tightly bound the two canoes together and then pushed us off into the middle of the river with an oar. We ducked down as far inside the canoes as we could get and just started to drift downstream. Claude held onto one oar in case we had to push us away from some obstacle. The rain came down in sheets and we started to pick up speed as we entered the main current. Lightning flashed all about us and I gave a slight yelp as it hit a nearby tree. The boom was loud and made my ears ring. Claude busily poked and guided downstream as best he could. I felt the canoe hit small objects and I prayed that we didn’t spring a leak. To the right and off in the woods I saw a small fire. Claude poked me with the oar and whispered, “There they are.” We picked up speed as the river took a sharp turn to the right and then to the left. The river straightened out again and then Claude gave us the okay to sit up. We let go of the branches and sticks and Claude untied the canoes.

“Okay boys we need to get these canoes to shore quick,” said Claude all serious. “Silas, whatever you do, don’t lose sight of me. Stay very close behind.”

I could hardly see in the dark and pouring rain. My hands were so cold I could hardly hold onto the oar. We traveled a few more miles downstream when Claude told me to pull to shore on the right. As I paddled, something hit the underside of my canoe and I almost fell out, but luckily I just slid off whatever it was and I couldn’t feel any water rushing inside the canoe.

When we got to shore, all three of us were shivering. Jeremiah crawled out of the canoe and fell to the rocks.

“I’m so cold I can’t move my hands,” Jeremiah said struggling to get to his feet.

“Help me pull the canoes ashore boys. The water’s going to rise tonight for sure,” said Claude.

Jeremiah crawled up the rocks. He could barely stand. I tried my best to pick up the canoe, but my hands kept slipping off in an awkward way.

Claude screamed at me telling me to pull the canoe further, even though he was struggling to lift the canoe himself. Our clothes were drenched and we were shaking. My teeth chattered as I tried to talk.

“Go find about three long thick branches about as long as the oars. I’m going to get my skins and stretch them around the poles and make a small teepee. There is no place here to put up a tent. We need to get dry somehow or the cold will kill us,” said Claude racing to secure the canoes. I fumbled through the dark trying to find some dead wood to use as a pole. I tripped a few times and scraped my neck. I found three close to the size he wanted and he used the oars as poles and tied them together at the top. Then he wrapped the skins around the poles and tied them as well. The rain was still pouring down but our makeshift shelter was better than nothing. Inside we stripped off all our wet clothes. All three of us sat naked and shivering. We clung to each other for warmth as Claude put his big buffalo coat over the top of us. Jeremiah was so cold that he was nearly unconscious and shivering uncontrollably. We held his body in between the two of us. The rain kept pouring but the skins kept us mostly dry. None of us bothered to keep watch during the night. We were all exhausted and cold. Somehow I drifted off to an uneasy sleep sitting upright.

I dreamt the three of us were in some military unit wearing strange uniforms. It was us, but we looked different. Our heads were shaved and we were running with other men together in a group early in the morning. We were singing strange dirty songs in some sort of chant. I felt a close bond between all of the men and myself. It wasn’t sexual as much as it felt spiritual and primitive. I would look over at Claude and Jeremiah and they would smile back in a knowing sort of way. After the running we were led back to a large boarding house with very modern looking water fixtures. We were all naked standing together bathing under a very warm fountain. It was so heavenly. I heard the sound of dripping water and felt warm steam. Then chirping and tweeting. That world faded away and I tried to hold on, but then I heard a crow.

I opened my eyes and I saw the three of us clinging together for warmth. Our naked bodies pressed so close together and I could smell our sweaty musk. Jeremiah was now toasty warm and enveloped in a cocoon of men. Claude’s body was thick and covered with a dark fur. He was a fully mature man, unlike Jeremiah and I who just had light patches of body hair here and there. It was good to know that we had survived the night. I knew that if I should stir, I would more than likely wake Claude, and at that moment, I didn’t want to move. We were all sporting erections and they weren’t aware except me. Unfortunately, I had to piss so bad that I could not get comfortable. I slowly tried to move to get to my feet, but Claude woke up.

“That is quite unlike me to sleep like that,” he said yawning and stretching.

We exited the makeshift shelter. Both of us naked pissing side by side. Claude slapped his cock and said, “Fuck, hard to piss when my cock is all hard like this.” Jeremiah arose from the tent and joined us. “Damn, boy! I thought we was gonna lose you during the night. You were shaking like a leaf,” said Claude.

“I don’t ever want to be that cold ever again if I can help it,” said Jeremiah.

“We need to fatten you up some then. Look at me. It will take a lot to make me freeze to death,” he said patting his belly. “But I must say, I felt cold as hell last night. I ain’t gonna lie about it. I tell you what. If we travel a few miles downstream and we can set up a decent campsite. I think we all need a day to sleep and rest up.”

“What about the Shawnees that we were following?” said Jeremiah.

“They mostly like to ambush people from that island and are unlikely to travel in the rain,” said Claude.

                                   March 14.

Early that morning we quickly broke down camp and wrung out our wet clothes and put on dry ones. It was still raining but not as heavy as the steady downpour we had during the night. We packed the skins away and Claude stood on the shore peering up and down the river. He said he didn’t see any sign of danger and told us to shove off.

“I want to take the other canoe today. I need to paddle to keep myself warm,” said Jeremiah smiling.

“You sure Jeremiah? I can do it if you want,” I said.

He insisted that he was fine. We paddled a few miles downstream in the rain till we found a better spot to rest for the day. There was a shallow place in the river where Claude said the buffalo crossed and on either side was a buffalo road. On either side lay vast areas where cane grew tall and thick. He said that the trail led down into the heart of Kentucky. If we had come by flatboat, this would be the place to depart and travel by land. Claude said that it was dangerous to go that way because the Indians patrolled that road.

A few miles downstream of the crossing we stopped on the wooded banks where tall sycamores grew out over the river. We carried the canoes up over a gentle hill to flatter ground where we set up camp hidden from site of the river. Unlike the previous night, we had level ground to pitch a tent and built a small campfire. The rain had ended and now we had clear skies and a cool wind blowing from the north. The ground was muddy and we gathered leaves and moss to put under our tent.

That day was spent quietly resting. After lunch Jeremiah was teaching us about the alphabet and how words were written. I would practice by drawing letters in the mud with a stick. Claude got frustrated and wandered off into the woods with his bow. A while later Claude returned  with a fine rabbit and a grouse. We had a feast that afternoon before a small fire. Claude pulled out a bottle of whiskey. “You boys want a chug?” he said smiling.

I don’t remember falling asleep, but I do remember getting quite drunk. The three of us acting like children chasing each other and hiding behind trees. I found Jeremiah drunk and lying on his back smiling on the soft forest floor. I fell on the ground beside him holding him tightly from behind. Claude came upon us and stood watching as if he had seen something he shouldn’t, but Jeremiah motioned for him to join us. Claude smiled and crumbled on the ground beside us.

“That was fun huh?” he said handing the bottle to me.

I think we passed out looking up at the stars, Jeremiah in my arms and Claude beside us.   

Later that night the wind picked up and we awoke shivering under a cloudy sky. We crawled back to the tent and fell asleep.

                                March 15

That morning I heard the sound of rain and lapping waves. Claude jumped up and yelled for us to get dressed in a hurry. The river had risen a lot overnight and the banks of the river was just a few feet from our tent. Good thing we had our canoes tied to the trees or else the river would have certainly taken them. Luckily we had packed away everything except our tent by the time the water reached our campsite. We rolled the canvass and tossed it into one of the canoes. Claude and Jeremy were pulling the heavier canoe to higher ground as I struggled with the other canoe in rushing water up to my waist and nearly got swept away. Claude came rushing back into the river and grabbed my arm pulling me and the canoe to higher ground.

“We need to go higher. It ain’t safe here,” said Claude. We carried both canoes further up the hill deep into the woods. We sat together huddled together on a fallen tree. The rain tapered off to a fine drizzle, but it still remained cloudy and cold. Claude put a bear skin around his neck and sat between us with his arms around our shoulders as a tent. The river finally crested around noon. Once Claude decided that it was safe we set up the tents. We were forced to camp here another night. Jeremiah suggested we have another lesson on our alphabet and learned to write our names. We had a simple meal of hardtack and beans that night and slept comfortably in the tent.

                                  March 16

The next morning I awoke to the sound of song birds and sunlight peeking through the trees and making the raindrops sparkle. A morning as fresh as Eden. We had a quick breakfast of salted pork and Johnny cakes. The river level had gone down enough to where Claude said it was safer to travel. We carried the canoes down to the river and continued our journey. The river looked very wide. Lots of the low lying areas were flooded well beyond their banks. I saw lots of animals stranded in trees trying to escape the flood. Claude told us to be especially aware of fallen trees and hidden rocks just under the surface and told us to stick to the middle of the river. I felt well rested and ready to paddle. The sun shone bright on this cool day. We traveled north-west all day and around dusk we reached the mouth of a great tributary. It was this very river that Claude said we were to enter that would take us into the heart of Kentucky.  We camped beside the river that night trying to decide if we should wait here a few days for the swollen river to go down more.

That night we camped out under the stars. I lay in Jeremiah’s arms and dreamt I was traveling with a group of men dressed in colorful ceremonial clothes following a series of cairns lying to either side of the mouths of various creeks. At one point we were walking single file down a well worn trail in the middle of a large meadow. We were singing and chanting some song on the way to some special place. In the distance I saw lights in the sky just over a hill.

                                  March 17.

The next morning we woke early. Claude was checking the height and speed of the river. We had a nice breakfast when Claude returned and said that the river was still too high and he suggested we wait a bit longer. Claude and Jeremiah went hunting for food and firewood while I hung back and watched for Indians at the mouth of the river. I took out a knife and carved our names into the bark of an old maple tree. I looked up river from where we had come and thought I saw smoke rising in the distance. I crept out onto the rocks to get a better look. I stepped on a slippery rock and fell hitting my right side. I got to my feet in ankle deep water and could see that it was smoke rising around the bend in the river. I had a large bruise on my rib area and it hurt like hell. Claude walked out of the woods smiling carrying a freshly killed rabbit. I put my index finger to my mouth and pointed towards the river. Jeremiah trailing behind took a knee looking to me for answers.

“I see smoke up river,” I whispered.

“Pack up, we’re leavin’ now,” said Claude

We quietly loaded the canoes and carried them to the mouth of the river.  Claude told me to watch him carefully and to always paddle towards the outer curve in the river always darting from side to side. And not to get very close to the bank with the front of the canoe always angled towards the middle. Paddling against the current was harder than I thought it would be, but I followed behind Claude as best I could. My shoulders and back ached and my arms grew tired. We took frequent breaks and slowly we made progress upstream. Claude warned me that this part of the trip could be very dangerous. We were closer to shore and more vulnerable to attacks should we surprise a band of Indians or if we should we hit a rock or log near the surface and get sucked under by a strong current. It was getting dark and we pulled the canoes to the muddy banks and carried them up a hill past the site of the river. The river had gone down some, but it was still up over it’s normal bank. We set up camp, made a small fire and had a good rabbit stew. I was sitting with my back against one of the canoes holding Jeremiah’s hand, staring into the campfire. I felt cozy and warm.

“What do you plan to do now? How far upstream do you want to go?” said Claude.

I looked at Jeremiah and he shrugged his shoulders. “Guess we didn’t think that far ahead. I suppose we could go almost anywhere. How far do you think we should go until it gets safe?” I said.

“Ha ha, You are funny, No? You would have to go as far as the sea and still you would never be safe. But perhaps if you travel upstream as far as you can paddle, then maybe no one would find you except bears and wolves,” he said laughing.

“What about you Claude?  What do you plan to do? You can stay with us,” said Jeremiah

“No, I will take you to where you want to go, but I plan to hunt me some beaver, bear, and whatever I can find. Then when I fill those canoes I plan to take it down river to New Orleans and sell them. You boys will do okay. I showed you how to hunt, and find food. I will tell you how to find salt, and I will show you how to build a cabin. Then I will go. You boys get some sleep. Tomorrow will be another hard day,” said Claude.

He put out the fire and we drifted off to sleep.

                            March 18

On that fateful day it started out as any other. I woke up spooning Jeremiah to the singing of birds. Claude walked off to take his morning shit over the hill by the river. I was horny and we had a quick fuck. Afterwards we got up and pissed.

“How far do you want to go, Silas? Should we live in the hills or get a good piece of bottomland for corn and beans? I kinda like a nice garden,” said Jeremiah.”

“Yeah, we can build a cozy little cabin near the woods, with a stream nearby. We can find a nice meadow for a garden,” I said.

“We can live off the fat of the land,” he said.

“Yeah and it will be all ours.”

“Unless the Indians find us.”

“Lets not think about that now. We will figure out something,” I said hugging Jeremiah from behind.

Claude returned to camp carrying a pail of water. “You boys gonna sleep all day?” Claude said laughing.

We got dressed and had a quick breakfast. We carried the canoes down to the river. The river had retreated back to it’s normal bank. Claude walked up and downstream looking for any sign of Indians.

We got in the canoes and continued upstream. It was a beautiful morning with the sun breaking through a light fog. The birds were singing as we paddled past thick forests on either side of the river. Large trees leaned at sharp angles over the river. We had to duck to pass under the trunks.

We were navigating a rough spot when a branch snagged Claude’s tricorn hat. He turned back to grab it when I noticed a large tree in the river just beneath the surface. It was rolling. I watched as it rose from beneath the surface. I yelled at Claude to look out, but it was too late. To my horror the limb rose and fell atop their canoe plunging it beneath the rushing waters. I narrowly avoided it myself and called out to them. The back end of the canoe rose into the air and then flipped over following the current downstream. I could see neither Claude nor Jeremiah. I frantically called out to them and rowed towards the canoe.

I found the canoe a mile downstream wedged near the base of a tree. It was there that I found Claude’s body. He was motionless face down in the river. I pulled him ashore and lay his body among the weeds. I pulled the broken shell of the canoe to the bank and stood it on end against a tree to mark the spot where Claude’s body lay.

I pulled my canoe ashore and ran back upstream calling out Jeremiah’s name. I saw nothing as I ran back to the spot where he fell in the river. I ran back to my canoe and paddled downstream looking for Jeremiah. I was frantic, afraid and alone. Finally as darkness fell, I reluctantly gave up the hunt and assumed that my reason for living was gone. I sat alone in the darkness beside the remaining canoe and the body of my friend and cried well into the night. I thought about drowning myself that night. Not sure why I didn’t.

                              March 19

The next morning at first light I walked up and down the river bank calling out to Jeremiah, but never found a thing. I came back to the broken canoe and salvaged what I could. Flies were already landing on Claude’s body so I dug a shallow grave and buried him. I took a board from the canoe and carved the name, “CLAD” and placed it at the head of the grave to mark the spot. I sat there all the rest of that day. I didn’t even bother eating. I didn’t care anymore.

During the night I had a dream that Jeremiah was calling out to me. Two cairns marked a spot beside a stream and a trail running off into some meadow. He wanted me to follow him.

                               March 20.

I woke shivering and hungry. I felt despondent after what had happened. I went through the motions of having breakfast. I scoured the riverbanks once again calling out Jeremiah’s name in vain, but alas, I gave up the search and decided to continue upstream. I paddled in silence, stopping only to piss or drink. The pain of losing Jeremiah and Claude was too much to bear.

                                 March 22

Two days later I arrived at bare spot to either side of the river. The land had been worn away as if many roads had converged upon this site. I noticed a small herd of buffalo wandering past. Claude had mentioned there would be a large salt lick at a place like this. I continued going southeast for  a few miles when I noticed a cairn to either side of a small branch of this river. I followed it until it narrowed. It was almost too small to navigate. Then I saw the image I had been shown in my dream. Two large cairns on the right side of the stream. A straight trail ran through a tall grassy meadow. It was here that I pulled my canoe up the bank and left it as I followed the trail through a large meadow and then to a thick woods.

The trail led up a small hill in the woods. At the top I found a small outcropping with a few large rocks. On one of the rocks I found the same strange carvings of the eye within the hand. I decided that this would be my new home. It felt right to me. I made several trips to the canoe carrying as much as I could. A couple of days passed before I had all my possessions moved to the site of my future cabin.

I built a small cabin on the side of the hill in the thick of the woods. Far from any major river and trail I gathered rocks to make a foundation and chimney, then cut down trees for the walls. In a nearby meadow I turned up the ground and planted a small crop of corn, beans, potatoes and squash. The first year was very difficult and I almost starved that first winter. But the years that followed the land produced lots of food and I built a small root cellar. I preserved meat by smoking it or by drying it making jerky. I made my own clothes from the skins of animals I killed for food. I made salt from a salt lick a few miles to the north. It was the one major journey I made a few times a year that put me in real danger. Out of loneliness I adopted a baby crow. It became some sort of companion for me. It was still wild, but tame enough to take food from my hand and come when I called.

A few years had passed and then one cold day in late November I was chopping wood for a fire. It looked like a snowstorm was heading my way from the north when a tall man wearing buck skins and furs stumbled upon the cabin. I dropped the wood and froze.

“Who are you? Why are you here?” I stammered.

He stopped, raised his hands and smiled. “Greetings friend. I come in peace. I have no weapons,” said the stranger.

By his dress I did not expect to hear him speaking proper English. As he approached, I found him to be quite handsome.

“I’m cold. May I sit by your fire to get warm?”

I hesitated, but then said, “I suppose it would be fine. I’ve never had a visitor here before.” As we entered my tiny cozy cabin, we sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the hearth. He had grey blue eyes which seemed uncommon for an Indian. His braided jet black hair formed one long rope that was adorned with beads of turquoise and silver. He sat blowing and rubbing his hands in front of the fire.

I reached out my hand and said, “My name’s Silas, and who might you be?”

“I am called Ke-ah-kai,” he said with a youthful smile. My name means “runs with deer.” I’m from a very old tribe called the Ada’mai.”

“What brought you here to my cabin?” I asked.  

“I am here to pay homage to the sacred site. Once every seven years one of us makes a pilgrimage to this place to fulfill a vow our ancestor made to the Great Hunter. In exchange he has blessed those in our tribe with the gift of immortality,” he said.

“What? Nothing lives forever,” I said getting up. “I was just going to have some rabbit soup. You want to have a bowl with me?”

“Thank you. I would,” he said smiling.  

I was a bit skeptical and as I handed him a bowl I asked, “So how old are you then?”

Ke’-ah-kai smiled looking into my eyes. “How old do I look to you?”

“You look to be no older than 20.”

 He started laughing.“I am seven hundred and twenty three years old.”

I looked him over and couldn’t see a wrinkle or a blemish. “I don’t believe you. No man has ever lived that long.”

“What about the people mentioned in your Holy Book? Some of those men are said to have lived nearly a thousand years. Do you believe your holy book is telling the truth?”  

The question stumped me. “I never really believed the Bible before, but then again I’ve never read the Bible. I never learned to read either. I just remember some of the stories.”

“I’m very curious as to how you happened to chose to live here at this spot Silas? There are much better places to raise crops and more reliable sources of water than here. This place is rocky and hilly and covered in thick forests. Did someone tell you about this place?” he said looking more concerned.

“No one told me anything. I came down the river with my best friend and a trapper who both drowned. I found the trapper’s body downstream near the broken canoe and I spent three days wandering up and down the river looking for my friend’s body, but never found him. I continued upstream as far as I could go. I wanted to be as far away from people as I could get. I hid the canoe and my belongings and wandered the woods. Then when I came across these woods, I felt like it was calling me, like I had dreamed about this place.”

“When did you start having these dreams?” he asked.

“The dreams didn’t start until after I found this.” I reached for the smooth green rock with the strange writings that I kept on the mantle. I handed it to him.

“Do you ever wonder why the tribes do not attack or threaten you?” he said rolling the stone around in his hands. “They’re afraid of you. They think this piece land is cursed and anyone who would dare to live here must be either crazy or possessed by demons.” He starting laughing and said, “You’re lucky to have chosen this spot, or maybe this place chose you. The symbol carved into this rock tells of a certain magic. I think this stone brought you here.”

“Aren’t you afraid to come here then?”

“No, because my people have been coming to this spot for a very long time. Other tribes believe that these woods are haunted by the Ani skee’nahsa. The blue demons. It is said that they used to haunt these woods and prey upon lone travelers. Sometimes people have been found mutilated and drained of blood. Among my people there is an old story passed down through the generations about a lost tribe of blue skinned people with incredible strength. They supposedly once were part of our tribe, but were cursed by the Great Hunter and banished from the light. I have never seen these blue people myself, but my uncle said he once met three blue women dancing in the moonlight. Tall thin with skin as blue as a robin egg, they invited him to their campfire and offered him strong drink. One of the women tried to seduce him and in a moment of passion she bit him and then the other two women joined in attempting to bite him as well, but he said no sooner had these crazy women taken a bite out of his shoulder, they started screaming and wailing in pain. They ran off into the dark woods and he never saw them again.”

“Where did this happen? Was it recent?”

“It was long ago and far to the mountains in the east.”

The story gave me chills and I wondered if they might still exist. The thought of being alone after a story like that terrified me. We sat together staring into the fire and once he had finished warming his hands he stood.

“Thanks for soup. I should be leaving now.”

I stood and faced him as he put on his coat. “Please be my guest for the night. It’s terribly cold outside and I would enjoy the company.”

He turned around and looked at me curiously. “Sure, as long as you don’t mind sleeping next to a dirty old Indian,” he said winking.

“No, I’d appreciate the company. It has been a very long time since I’d last spoken to another human being, besides I would love to hear more of your tales.”   

The wind howled outside the cabin and I could feel the cold seeping through the cracks in the door. We sat together huddled in front of my fire. I cooked some beans and made a simple cornbread on the hearth. Ke’ah kai thanked me for my invitation to stay the night and after eating, he told me a story of the origin of his people well into the wee hours of the morning. I shared my bed with him to stay warm. I felt his large arm hugging my chest. His story scared me, but I felt somewhat secure lying in his arms.

The next morning I woke up alone in my bed. There was no sign of Ke’ah kai. The bright sun shone through the cracks in the door but I noticed that the door was still latched from the inside. How did he get outside if the door was still latched? I opened the door and walked outside. The ground was covered with fresh snow and there were no tracks leading away from the cabin. I assumed it must have been a dream. Living alone for so long was making me crazy. It wasn’t long after this that the nightmares began. Terrible beasts seemed to be stalking me in my sleep. Living alone in the woods was driving me crazy. I missed the company of other people.

That spring my supplies had run low so I hiked off on foot to the salt licks to hunt and make salt.  I made this journey many times over the years, yet on this one particular trip the weather was unseasonably warm. A bright sunny afternoon and I was looking forward to my first bath since last fall. I had just finished packing away the last of my newly made salt when I heard the clumpity clump clump of hooves  coming down that buffalo trail. Startled, I ducked behind a big tree on the bank by the river. I got down low and kept quiet. The hoof beats got louder and I could soon make out three male voices. I could feel my heart beating in my neck and my knees felt weak. My bow and quiver were out in the open. I was thinking about the real possibility of having to either run away or stay and fight them.  I had never encountered hostile Indians before but that talk with Ke’ah kai made me think I had just been lucky.

I tried to lean closer to make out what they were saying. It sorta sounded like English. As they passed by the tree I snuck a peek to see if they were Englishmen like me. As I was craning my neck I felt a sharp pain like I had been stabbed by a hot poker and let out a sharp yelp. I looked down at my leg and saw a huge water moccasin had latched onto my ankle. I gasped and tried to kick it off with my other foot and the snake slithered off into the river. I sat down and pulled up the leg of my pants. My ankle was already turning bright red.

The men had heard my scream and turned riding towards me. “Who’s there? Show yourself!” said the deep gruff voice.

“My name’s Silas Grundy and I been snake bit.” By this time I was rolling on the ground in pain.

“Names Horace Pruitt. Let’s get you up in the wagon. We best be trying to get that poison out.” I remember being laid on the wagon bed and staring up at the sunny sky, then all went dark.

In 1782 I was taken to a town called Miller’s Station that sprung up where the buffalo road crossed the small creek. I woke up in a cabin with two women watching over me. I had almost died. They cleaned me up some and I told them I had lived alone for the last 7 years. I was taken in by an older blacksmith named Edgar Woods. In exchange for room and board, I became his apprentice and he fixed a room for me above the shop.

I had learned a good trade being a blacksmith. After Edgar got too old, I took over most of the work and became quite popular in town. People got to talking about me being unmarried and all. Guys dropping hints about the few available women in town. I would laugh it off saying I was too set in my ways to be tied down. But then once the preacher’s wife being insistent as she was, set me up on a date with a widow woman named Kate McClintock. She was nice and all and had me over for a nice dinner. She tried to get romantic and I excused myself saying I needed to get back. She thought I was just shy. Even invited me over a few more times, but I politely declined. She would drop by the shop quite often and we’d talk a spell, but that was about the most of it, and that was the way I wanted it.

In the summer of 1790, old Edgar up and died, leaving me the blacksmith shop and his house. I moved into Edgar’s house and bought my own horse and buggy. At times I would go back to visit the old cabin that had fallen into disrepair and swallowed up by the forest. At the ripe old age of thirty eight I had grown stout with thinning hair and a full dark beard and started to go by the name Dusty because when they found me I was just a dirty hermit. But now I was a man of some respect in these parts and led a pretty comfortable life until one hot sunny afternoon in mid July in 1792.

John Miller, the town patriarch, had commissioned me to make wrought iron tools for his hearth.  A big drip of sweat dribbled down the middle of my forehead and curved to the left. I wanted to wipe it away, but in my right hand I held the hammer and in my left I held some iron tongs. The heat from the forge and the humidity had me drenched in sweat. “Ah hell!” I said as the sweat finally made it to my left eye. I put down my tools and left the piece of iron to cool. I took off my apron and walked outside and sat against a split rail wooden fence in the cool shade of an old maple. The thick humid air made the tree-line appear blue.  Walking across my line of site I saw a handsome man with red hair and a dark red beard. Following just behind was a plain fair haired woman with two daughters and a young son. He looked strangely familiar as I idly watched him doing business about town. He was my new distraction from a rather dull life.

One day he happened by the blacksmith shop and wanted shoes for his horse and to repair a broken wagon wheel. His wife called him Jeremiah and then I recognized my old friend, but he did not recognize me. I had a full beard and had lost most of the hair on my head. I suppose I had changed a lot in the last 17 years and so had he. I felt that old desire stirring again in my heart. The man that I had once loved was now standing just inches from me. He introduced himself as Jeremiah McAllister and I said my name was Dusty. Most people didn’t know my real name.

One hot summer day while sitting in the shade of an old maple outside the blacksmith shop with Bill Turner who ran a distillery and two teenage boys Sam and Peter, I was telling stories about the past when Jeremiah came and sat with us.

“Dusty was just telling us about the time when he met Simon Girty and Colonel Hinkson in Pittsburgh,” said Peter.

“Oh yeah? I met both of them years ago in the same place. How long ago was this?” the man asked with a puzzled look on his face.

“Oh that would be back in the spring of 1775. I was with my best friend and we were trying to find someone to take us to Kentucky. We ran into a bit of trouble back east and wanted a new start,” I said.

Jeremiah grew quiet and looked quite pale.

“What ever happened to your friend Dusty?” said Sam.

“We was paddling up the river during a big flood and a big tree rolled and hit their canoe. Claude the trapper and my best friend Jeremiah drowned. I found Claude’s body later that day and spent three days searching for Jeremiah. I thought of drowning myself right then and there, but had a dream where he was calling out to me.” I felt my eyes starting to water up.

“You want a swig of whiskey? It is a new batch,” Said Bill.

“No thanks. I best be getting back to work.” I looked over to see Jeremiah’s reaction. He stared at me intently.

“Oh my god! Is it really you Silas?” he said reaching out to hug me.

I was overcome with tears of happiness, tears of loss. I didn’t want people to see me crying. Jeremiah continued to hold me. “Silas it’s me. I didn’t die. I was swept downstream and grabbed hold of a log. I nearly drowned for sure if it had not been for the Miller party. They found me half dead floating near the Ohio River. They thought it was too dangerous to continue so we waited a few days before going upstream. We found the remains of my broken canoe, but never found you, your canoe or Claude.  I thought you had drowned also. I stayed with the Miller party until they returned to Pittsburgh that fall. I married Amity, the girl that worked at the Inn. We have three children Silas. Can you believe that I’m a father?” he said. “I can’t believe you’re alive and I used to think I was being haunted by your ghost.”

Jeremiah and I became the talk of the town. People wanted to know more of our ordeal, yet we never mentioned the Ridgely plantation or that we were both guilty of killing our would be captors.

Later that night I heard a tapping on my door. I opened the door to find Jeremiah standing there with a big smile. He held out his arms to give me a big hug.

“Wow, it is you. It’s really you after all these years. I thought you were dead. I have missed you so badly. You were my only family here,” he said.

“I must have cried myself to sleep for ages. The minute I realized it was you, those old feelings came back. Now I can’t bear to see you loving someone else,” I said.

“I’m sorry Silas, but it wasn’t right. What we did was wrong and against the word of God,” he said starting to tear up.

“But you loved me. I know you did,” I said.

He took his hand and tenderly ran it through what was left of my hair. “Yes I did, and still do. You don’t know how bad I want you. I’ve been thinking about you all day.” He took his hand and placed it on the back of my neck and leaned in and gave me a kiss.

“Should we be doing this?” I asked.

“I don’t care. I need you right now,” he said and then kissed me again.

I kicked the door closed and we began ripping our clothes off. He pinned me against the wall in a passionate kiss. I never thought I would ever experience such pleasure ever again.

Once we were finished, he lay spooning me on my bed, holding me in his arms. I felt safe and secure.

“What about Amity? Won’t she be looking for you?” I asked.

“No, I told her I’d be gone all night drinking with my old friend,” he said.

We sat in silence for a while, then I spoke up. “I spent two days combing the riverbank for you crying out your name. I didn’t care if they be Indians or not. When I found Claude’s body, I assumed you’d drowned as well. A part of me died that day. You were my only reason for living,” I said sobbing.

Jeremiah sat up in bed. “Silas, do you think that I did not suffer as well? I was despondent when they found me. You were the one true love of my life. I was living as a bachelor for years in Pittsburgh. The good townsfolk thought it fitting that a young man such as I should be properly married. Amity was already my friend, so it just seemed convenient at the time.”  

“Do you love her?”  

“Yes, she’s the mother of my children.”

“But do you find her more to your liking than me?”

“No Silas, nothing could ever replace the feelings I have for you or the way you feel in my arms. Oh how I wish I could remain here forever, but I have obligations as a husband and a father,”  

“Would you want to meet me again like this Jeremiah?”

“Yes, can’t you tell?” he said as he pulled my hand towards his growing erection. “We will find a way.”   

Over the next few years Jeremiah and I would go on these “hunting trips” to my little cabin a few times a month. It was the only way to hide our affair from his family and town gossip. To his wife and kids, I was known as uncle Dusty. I was a regular guest at their house during the holidays and Jeremiah was getting more reckless and once kissed me in his kitchen while the rest of the family was sleeping. I was worried that we would be found out. His children were adorable and loved their father. Amity was a loyal and caring wife and she made me feel quite welcome when I went to visit. I was plagued with guilt and jealousy for having sex with Jeremiah behind her back. Part of me felt that Jeremiah was rightfully mine and that she got him by default. No matter how I tried to justify it, it just felt wrong. Jeremiah seemed happy having the best of both worlds.

One fine day in March, my young assistant and I were sweating over a hot forge, hammering and shaping horseshoes. I had my shirt off and covered in sweat when an older man on horseback rode into town.

“Howdy stranger!” He said getting down from his horse.

“What can I do for you?” I asked.

“Well, looking to get new shoes for my hoss. You the man for the job?”

“I would be the very one.”

“I’ll leave my hoss here. Be back very shortly with payment,” he said looking at me curiously. “What be your name stranger?”

“Everyone knows me as Dusty, but my real name is Silas Grundy.”  

“Oh my lord! It’s like seeing a ghost. Do you remember me?” I looked him over and saw a slight familiarity. “I’m Horace Pruitt. Me and my boys found you snake bit and hanging on death’s door. You look mighty different now. You lost a bit of hair and you ain’t the skinny savage that I remember. You all filled out.”

“Oh blessed day! Please forgive me Horace. I never thought I’d see the likes of you again.” I lay my hammer down and ran to greet my dear old friend. He gave me a big hug.

“Who be this sturdy young man? he asked.

“This would be my fine assistant Billy Linville. He came to me wanting to learn the trade. And a good Smithy he will make someday,” I said.

Billy blushed, wiped his hand and said, “Good to meet you sir.”   

“Dusty, come have a drink with me at the tavern tonight. I’d like to discuss a proposition with you.”

That night I met and had a few drinks with Horace. He said he was planning to head farther west to the Missouri Territory and wondered if he could persuade me to tag along. Said it would be good to have a decent blacksmith and that he would pay me well. I told him I needed to think about it. He gave me two days to make my decision.

I fretted over whether I should stay or leave. I hated having to share Jeremiah with his wife. Sometimes it would be weeks at a time before he could get away to see me. I couldn’t ask him to leave his wife and kids to be with me. I know how hard it is for a kid to be without his father. I also couldn’t live with the thought if he would choose her over me. The love we have for each other is something the community would not accept nor forgive if he did choose me. I couldn’t live with the jealousy that was eating me up inside if I decided to do nothing. I couldn’t say goodbye to Jeremiah. I didn’t think I could bear the pain of a farewell. If he begged I would most likely stay. I cried myself to sleep thinking about the decision I was about to make.

The next morning On my bed I left a letter addressed to Jeremiah, and inside it said…

My dearest Jeremiah.

I love you more than words can describe. You were the light and hope that kept me going all those years ago. It is with my deepest regrets that I must leave Millersburg and you my dearest friend to start a life elsewhere. It is perhaps the most difficult decision I have ever made to leave you and I think you know the reason why. With many tears and great sorrow I write you this letter. I want you to have this house and everything that is within it. Be a good father to your children and a good husband to your wife and love them always, for I will always and forever keep your memory near and dear to my heart. Perhaps in some other lifetime, God willing, we could be allowed to be together again and until that shining day, may the lord bless you always and keep you safe.

Your loving friend,

Silas Grundy.

I left the next day well before sunrise and didn’t tell anyone. I just packed a few belongings and essential items into my wagon and rode off with Horace Pruitt towards Maysville to take a flatboat down the Ohio to the  Missouri territory with four other men. On the buffalo road heading towards Maysville, we pulled the wagons off to the side of the road to have lunch. Horace noticed I was in a very sad mood.

“What’s wrong Dusty? Looks like you are not so happy to be heading west.”

I sat staring off down the road and said, “You’re right. I’m a bit sad to be leaving my friends and a good job behind.”

“I was a bit surprised when you said yes. I actually thought you would turn me down immediately. It must be a good reason,” he said

“Yeah, I’m in love with someone I can never have and it kills me inside,” I said.

“Oh man that is rough, but you probably made the right decision. I doubt there’re many women where we’re going though.”

“I don’t want anyone else,” I said tearing up.

We boarded a flat boat and set off down the Ohio. It was strange to pass familiar landmarks as I said goodbye to Kentucky and the life I once knew.  It took only four days before we landed in St. Louis. Horace being a man in his late 50s seemed happy to start a new chapter in his life. After raising a family of five children and seeing them all married off, nothing was holding him back after the unexpected death of his wife just a few years earlier to the consumption. We joined up with a few other families in St Louis and our party grew to nine adult men, five adult women, and eight children or various ages, a dozen or so head of cattle, seven wagons, two mules and seven horses and various pigs goats and chickens. We had been on the trail less than a week when we started to encounter the grasslands. Vast herds of buffalo dotted the plains as far as the eye could see. It was a new start for all of us.

                April 5, 1796 Missouri Territory

Late one afternoon after riding all day on the open plains, a great storm blew in from the west. The sky grew dark and violent- more bizarre and strange thanI had ever seen. The wind picked up and the men yelled for us to seek the low lying areas. Lightning flashed in the distance. I was riding on my wagon with a much older man named Zach. He was tall, thin, with wispy white hair and a long white beard. He asked for a chaw of tobacco. I reached into my pack and found the flat green carved stone beside the tobacco and pulled them both out. I handed Zach the tobacco and rubbed the stone’s smooth surface. It was comforting. The sky suddenly got very dark and Zach cowered after a loud crack then a rolling boom. My horse started to buck and paw at the ground. I sat dazed.

“Hey, are you guys nuts? Get down and take cover. This is going to be one hell of a storm,” yelled Horace who rode past on his horse.

The other men led the wagons down the other side of the hill towards a ravine. Zach cracked the whip and yelled, Giddy up!” The horses lurched forward and our wagon wheels got hung up in a rut. Zach jumped off the wagon and began to unhitch the horses. There was a bright flash of lightning nearby followed by a loud boom.

                        Sunday July 22 2001

The next instant I was standing in the middle of a plowed field in the hot sun with a hoe resting across my shoulder. A pretty woman with two children stood in front of me hoeing weeds in the corn, that I recognized from my dreams. Feeling lightheaded, I dropped to my knees.

“Mom! something’s wrong with Travis!” said the older boy running towards me. The woman came up beside me and with the boy’s help, got me to my feet.

“Ma’am, I think I might be lost. Could you tell me where am I, and why you called me Travis?”

“Because it’s your name. Travis, are you okay?” said the woman looking all concerned.  

“I think I feel a bit light headed madame. I seem to have lost my traveling companions. A large storm was approaching and we were about to take cover,” I said in a rant.

“Travis you sound funny,” said the young girl.

“You probably didn’t drink enough water. Well let’s get you back to the house. You’re probably dehydrated. You can get heat stroke if you ain’t careful,” said the woman taking my arm.

We walked across the field towards a house. Something felt rather familiar about the land. The two children ran ahead. I saw two strange shiny metallic wagons with glass windows. I’d never seen such a thing.

“Ma’am, do you ever have problems with Indians here in Missouri?” I said.

“Travis, you’re starting to scare me,” said the woman.

She led me inside this big house and sat me down upon this big comfy sofa. I lay back and closed my eyes. I had not felt this comfortable in ages. I closed my eyes and was again taken away.

           April 5 1796 Missouri Territory

Suddenly I experienced the sensation of falling and spinning through the air. It was terrifying. I tumbled through space getting whipped by the roaring winds. I landed with a thud broken and beaten. My life was fading away. For a moment I believed myself to be a crow, but now I was just a dying man alone on the great planes. Everything went dark and I was floating in a vast void.

I found myself wandering alone naked as if in a dream, waist high in a huge grassy field bathed in sunshine. Wild flowers brushed past my legs amid the buzzing bees and the smell of honeysuckle thick in the air. In the distance, a familiar solitary tree stood tall and wide in the midst of a huge grassy ocean that went on for as far as the eye could see. As I neared that ancient tree, old familiar friends gathered in the dappled shade beneath its thick expansive branches. Flocks of crows appeared and landed on the ground at my feet and took on human form. “Welcome home,” they would say. United once again with my original tribe, I was filled with joy. One by one each of them came to me and revealed the roles they each had played as if actors in a play.

“Is it all a game?” I asked.

“Best game ever, huh?” one of the guys sitting next to me said. “You aren’t tired of playing are you?”

“No, I suppose not. I can never get enough,” I said.

“Me either, anima ex machina, isn’t that the way it has always been?”

Later that afternoon we all sat together in the tall dry grass under the dappled shade of a lone ancient tree, joyfully sharing the memories of our last incarnation. I lay facing the man I knew as Jeremiah. My head propped up and cupped in my hand. We smiled looking at each other in a long silence except for the gentle breeze rustling the leaves above us. Our eyes locked together in a gaze that brought me to the very edge of a muddy blue iris. Leaning over the edge, staring down past the darkness of his pupils, I found him staring back at me, my other half, my best friend. Giddy like two kids who can’t get enough of the game hide and go seek, we bragged about the cleverness of our hiding places and marveled at the times where we came so close to discovering each other.

My memory starting to come back, I laughed and said, “I accomplished my goal. I talked you into going to Kentucky with me.”

He slapped his knees and said, “Ah ha! That wasn’t your true goal. That was my goal to move to Kentucky, however by believing that your goal was to lead me to Kentucky to raise a family it allowed you to freely seek your inner desire.”

“And what do you think that would be?” I asked.

“Why you know that better than I do, You would dare touch the hand of god.”  

“But nothing like that happened to me in that lifetime.”  

“No, it didn’t happen, but it put you a step closer in that direction when you built that cabin on sacred ground. You actually built a temple without consciously knowing what you were doing.”

We sat laughing and recapping heroic tales of our previous lives until well past sunset. One by one, the tribe transformed into crows and flew high into the branches of the big tree.  

Before flying away, one of the fellow travelers said, “It’s a good thing to forget when we enter new lives, or else we could never experience true fear, love or excitement. It would get old and dull and what fun would that be?  But here, under this ancient tree, we can recall the moments and have a good laugh. You’ll remember us again one day. Let’s go hide again, shall we?”

After saying that, he transformed back into a crow and joined the others in the sky. I felt the urge to join them being filled with a sense of overwhelming love and nostalgia. I tried to take wing, but something snatched me in midair and pulled me back with incredible force accompanied by a whooshing sound.

I opened my eyes and memories of some other lifetime faded fast. I had been someone else and I could only vaguely recall scattered bits and pieces as if it were a dream. I was lying back on the couch when Suzanne walked in and handed me a big glass of iced tea.

“Travis are you sure you’re okay? You were talking in some strange accent and you acted like you didn’t know us. Have you been taking your medication?”

“I feel fine now. I think it may have been the heat.”