PacNorWest
Veteran Member
The fire was a long background story about 3 miles away. Out now, I'm happy. Pac.
Story Grace, Mercy and Blessings
- Thread starter PacNorWest
- Start date
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#389
"What say you Big, how far to DC?" Mark asked the large man who was looking back at the camp they had come from.
"Humm, at least 300 miles I guess. As soon as it gets light enough to see; we need to cross the river. Either that, or we need to head upriver right now and see if we can find protection and get ready to protect ourselves. This is not a good place to hang around."
"I'm ready to try the water and look for a crossing," Milo interjected, "To me that's the quickest way to put miles between us and the attackers."
"What time is it?" Mark questioned; "we should be close to daylight soon. I'm not even sure what river this is; I don't want to test the waters until we can see how wide it is."
"If it's the one I think it is, it's the Roanoke River. It will turn North, and we'd be better off trailing up the western side." Big offered calmly.
"What say you Big, how far to DC?" Mark asked the large man who was looking back at the camp they had come from.
"Humm, at least 300 miles I guess. As soon as it gets light enough to see; we need to cross the river. Either that, or we need to head upriver right now and see if we can find protection and get ready to protect ourselves. This is not a good place to hang around."
"I'm ready to try the water and look for a crossing," Milo interjected, "To me that's the quickest way to put miles between us and the attackers."
"What time is it?" Mark questioned; "we should be close to daylight soon. I'm not even sure what river this is; I don't want to test the waters until we can see how wide it is."
"If it's the one I think it is, it's the Roanoke River. It will turn North, and we'd be better off trailing up the western side." Big offered calmly.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you indeed.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#390
"I sure don't like this fix we're in," Milo was honest. "There's an awful lot of swamps connected to these river systems. especially this far East and close to the ocean."
"May I suggest we hold tight here until daylight. Of course, if we hear shots or horses then we need to move out at top speed. There's nothing along here but willow thickets to hide behind, poor cover, and hoof prints show in the sandy muck." Big shoved back his hat and scratched his forehead.
"Hey, you starred up yahoos," a voice came from inside the prison wagon, "let us out, we all need to take time with a bush."
"No." Mark responded, "pee out through the bars, nobody's getting out."
There was a lot of grumbling from the contained men, that Mark, Milo and Big ignored.
Mark pulled out his pocket watch, angling the face to catch any light possible, and failing. "I can't tell what time it is, do either of you have a clue.?"
"About 3:20 in 15 seconds," Big answered. "My watch has glow in the dark hands," he chuckled, "just like me." and then he laughed.
"Thanks," Mark said absently, "Listen, I hear horses," his voice dropped to a whisper.
"I sure don't like this fix we're in," Milo was honest. "There's an awful lot of swamps connected to these river systems. especially this far East and close to the ocean."
"May I suggest we hold tight here until daylight. Of course, if we hear shots or horses then we need to move out at top speed. There's nothing along here but willow thickets to hide behind, poor cover, and hoof prints show in the sandy muck." Big shoved back his hat and scratched his forehead.
"Hey, you starred up yahoos," a voice came from inside the prison wagon, "let us out, we all need to take time with a bush."
"No." Mark responded, "pee out through the bars, nobody's getting out."
There was a lot of grumbling from the contained men, that Mark, Milo and Big ignored.
Mark pulled out his pocket watch, angling the face to catch any light possible, and failing. "I can't tell what time it is, do either of you have a clue.?"
"About 3:20 in 15 seconds," Big answered. "My watch has glow in the dark hands," he chuckled, "just like me." and then he laughed.
"Thanks," Mark said absently, "Listen, I hear horses," his voice dropped to a whisper.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you.
Sneaker 11
RECONDO
Ms Pac..........your ability to find a cliff in a swamp is nothing short of amazing.
11
11
Nature_Lover
Wait! What?
Thank you, Pac. This is a wonderful story!
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#391
Mark moved his hand down in a 'reduce noise' movement, forgetting it was dark and not noticeable. "Quiet," he issued low, going to stand by the wagon. "Who ever is shooting unarmed people, wouldn't hesitate a moment, shooting all of you like sitting ducks."
The noise level in the wagon dropped to zero; the sentenced men sitting still, in the wagon that creaked when they moved, There was a slight cough from someone that was angerly hushed.
The sound of horses grew louder, the voices from the riders sounding closer and closer.
"Er you sure you know that guy?" a disembodied voice questioned. "They skittered so quick, er you sure you got a good look at'em? And it 'pears they took that dead guy with'em. Er they kinda 'teched?"
"I'm sure," a lower, smoother voice replied. "My Dad knowed'em, and he pointed them out to me, over the years. The hair sets'em apart from most peoples. The older guy so white headed and the other man, so read-headed. That's why they keep hats pulled low, most'ovs the times. Theys hard to miss."
"Er we gonna have to shoot at'en to get their attention?"
"NO! I imagines they know where we are, more than we knows where they is." the smooth voice continued. "They's got a load of prisoners and I imagines they are suspicious and careful. I'd like to meet up with'em, but during the daylight, soes we don't get shot."
"Oh, do you think they would shoot at us?" a scared sounding feminine voice said haltingly. "Are they nice people?"
"I alreadys said they is careful, and yes they would shoot at us if they thought we was bad'uns. You peoples has got to start listen'en to what I say. I ain't jest talkin to hear myself. Now I don't knows how they got shed of here so quick, but we's gotta keep movin on and hope to catch'em." the low, smooth voice faded off as they seemed to move out of range, the horse noise clopping in the sucking swamp mud.
"Great," Milo thought, "attackers behind us, and baggage in front.. Not much of a choice."
All four men were at the ready, rifles in hand and sidearms unlatched in the holsters. Faintly in the distance, they could hear gunshots. as resistance to the attacking
force was happening.
Mutterings from the group moving ahead of the clansmen, was carried back to them on the wind, but undistinguishable.
"I believe this might be a tight," Milo said drolly, "somebody refresh my memory why we are doing this."
"Because you really don't have a choice," Al reminded the Lindermans. 'i can't do this by myself. We've already lost four Marshall's to this assignment, and Phil here, makes five."
'You didn't tell us about that fact," Mark was perturbed, "what's the reason for so many death's and do you have information about the attacking force behind us? Is there someone in the wagon they are trying to liberate?"
Milo could hear the cold fury in his Dad's voice. Marshall Al was way in over his head in trouble, if he didn't 'fess up immediately.
"All of these men," Al said reluctantly, "they all belong to a violent, subversive cell of anarchists that have been trying to overthrow the government. We caught most of them in an ambush; but the ones behind us vowed to destroy everyone in their path to set their friends free. These are the masterminds, and they deserve to die for their treason and sedition. I have orders to kill them all if we are attacked,' Al spoke loud enough for the caged men to hear, causing low muttering from the guilty men.
Mark moved his hand down in a 'reduce noise' movement, forgetting it was dark and not noticeable. "Quiet," he issued low, going to stand by the wagon. "Who ever is shooting unarmed people, wouldn't hesitate a moment, shooting all of you like sitting ducks."
The noise level in the wagon dropped to zero; the sentenced men sitting still, in the wagon that creaked when they moved, There was a slight cough from someone that was angerly hushed.
The sound of horses grew louder, the voices from the riders sounding closer and closer.
"Er you sure you know that guy?" a disembodied voice questioned. "They skittered so quick, er you sure you got a good look at'em? And it 'pears they took that dead guy with'em. Er they kinda 'teched?"
"I'm sure," a lower, smoother voice replied. "My Dad knowed'em, and he pointed them out to me, over the years. The hair sets'em apart from most peoples. The older guy so white headed and the other man, so read-headed. That's why they keep hats pulled low, most'ovs the times. Theys hard to miss."
"Er we gonna have to shoot at'en to get their attention?"
"NO! I imagines they know where we are, more than we knows where they is." the smooth voice continued. "They's got a load of prisoners and I imagines they are suspicious and careful. I'd like to meet up with'em, but during the daylight, soes we don't get shot."
"Oh, do you think they would shoot at us?" a scared sounding feminine voice said haltingly. "Are they nice people?"
"I alreadys said they is careful, and yes they would shoot at us if they thought we was bad'uns. You peoples has got to start listen'en to what I say. I ain't jest talkin to hear myself. Now I don't knows how they got shed of here so quick, but we's gotta keep movin on and hope to catch'em." the low, smooth voice faded off as they seemed to move out of range, the horse noise clopping in the sucking swamp mud.
"Great," Milo thought, "attackers behind us, and baggage in front.. Not much of a choice."
All four men were at the ready, rifles in hand and sidearms unlatched in the holsters. Faintly in the distance, they could hear gunshots. as resistance to the attacking
force was happening.
Mutterings from the group moving ahead of the clansmen, was carried back to them on the wind, but undistinguishable.
"I believe this might be a tight," Milo said drolly, "somebody refresh my memory why we are doing this."
"Because you really don't have a choice," Al reminded the Lindermans. 'i can't do this by myself. We've already lost four Marshall's to this assignment, and Phil here, makes five."
'You didn't tell us about that fact," Mark was perturbed, "what's the reason for so many death's and do you have information about the attacking force behind us? Is there someone in the wagon they are trying to liberate?"
Milo could hear the cold fury in his Dad's voice. Marshall Al was way in over his head in trouble, if he didn't 'fess up immediately.
"All of these men," Al said reluctantly, "they all belong to a violent, subversive cell of anarchists that have been trying to overthrow the government. We caught most of them in an ambush; but the ones behind us vowed to destroy everyone in their path to set their friends free. These are the masterminds, and they deserve to die for their treason and sedition. I have orders to kill them all if we are attacked,' Al spoke loud enough for the caged men to hear, causing low muttering from the guilty men.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Oh, thank you Pac. Wonderful. But it sounds like they just let some friendlies go beyond them.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#392
"Psst, hey mister," one of the imprisoned men tried to draw Mark's attention. "Would you really let them shoot us?"
"I may not have any say in the matter. They have silencers, and the first notice we might have is when we start dropping like flies. You men are suffering the consequences of your actions. "
"Hey, we've already listened to some old dried up bird lecture us about what we done that we figured we was doing right. You ain't got no right, at least until you heard us out." The older man mouthed sorrowfully. "No right a'tall."
"Did you run against the law?" Mark asked neutrally, "if you did and were proven guilty, then it's our job to take you where your prison time is set."
No body said a word from the barred wagon, they were all too well familiar with what they had done, and they had no intention of telling the truth.
Slowly, the East brightened with faint light. Mark was pacing up and down in impatience. fussing under his breath with the time they were sidelined waiting for light.
Big was checking over the river, riding to the edge of the water, estimating the width and depth. He rode his horse in belly deep and wasn't a third of the way across, so he figured it was deeper than was safe.
"Not a good place to cross," he said low to Milo and then Mark, on Mark's 44th swing around the small encampment.
"Stay still Dad, you're using up energy you're gonna need later." Milo was slightly perturbed at Mark's level of impatience. "So, we push on. From what we heard, that bunch in front of us is mostly harmless. Or at least, they are not as fearsome as that bunch behind us. Which, by the way; we haven't heard any fighting, so they are possibly tracking us right now."
"Then we need to move on," Mark decreed and Al made for the wagon seat.
"Psst, hey mister," one of the imprisoned men tried to draw Mark's attention. "Would you really let them shoot us?"
"I may not have any say in the matter. They have silencers, and the first notice we might have is when we start dropping like flies. You men are suffering the consequences of your actions. "
"Hey, we've already listened to some old dried up bird lecture us about what we done that we figured we was doing right. You ain't got no right, at least until you heard us out." The older man mouthed sorrowfully. "No right a'tall."
"Did you run against the law?" Mark asked neutrally, "if you did and were proven guilty, then it's our job to take you where your prison time is set."
No body said a word from the barred wagon, they were all too well familiar with what they had done, and they had no intention of telling the truth.
Slowly, the East brightened with faint light. Mark was pacing up and down in impatience. fussing under his breath with the time they were sidelined waiting for light.
Big was checking over the river, riding to the edge of the water, estimating the width and depth. He rode his horse in belly deep and wasn't a third of the way across, so he figured it was deeper than was safe.
"Not a good place to cross," he said low to Milo and then Mark, on Mark's 44th swing around the small encampment.
"Stay still Dad, you're using up energy you're gonna need later." Milo was slightly perturbed at Mark's level of impatience. "So, we push on. From what we heard, that bunch in front of us is mostly harmless. Or at least, they are not as fearsome as that bunch behind us. Which, by the way; we haven't heard any fighting, so they are possibly tracking us right now."
"Then we need to move on," Mark decreed and Al made for the wagon seat.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Yippeee, thank you.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#393
Starting out at a fast walk, Al was weaving between clumps and thickets of willow and piled up debris. It was slow tedious going, but the danger behind them pushed with urgency. Big scouted in front, Milo followed the wagon, and Mark lagged behind to confuse the tracks by going backwards and crossing sideways.
The wagon tracks were a giveaway, but for sure they needed to angle out of the soupy river soil, even if they were more exposed out in the open.
Milo was evidently of the same opinion, as the wagon started to turn toward the left, away from the river. It was a wonderful blessing that they happened upon the 'road',
it was a hard packed surface that allowed the wagon and team to gallop a ways.
They nearly ran over the small group of horses and people waiting at the bend in the road. The galloping team shied at the sudden appearance of the unexpected strangers. Al never slacked off, keeping the team pushing ahead at full speed. He was actually more interested in saving his own hide, as he was interested in helping his prisoners or strangers.
Mark came along after, meeting the small collection of two men and one woman.
"You must be Mr. Linderman," the tallest of the men announced. "I'm Adam, Tom's boy."
Mark nodded in a frustrated manner. "Look, get on your horses and ride hard, there are shooters behind us that are set to kill to get to the men in the prison wagon. If they find you, you'll die like the rest of the camp back there." and he took off at a gallop.
The three looked at each other and scrambled for the saddles.
Mark had not meant for the three to follow him, he supposed they would take off in an opposite direction, but no, they came thundering, blundering along.
It was a blessing in disguise. The additional horses did a lot to scatter the tracks of the wagon, and they were gun holders if necessary.
Al ran the horses until they were well lathered and heaving, blowing with the effort. Not stopping, the scared driver kept them at a walk to cool down and even out their breathing.
Adam tried to talk once again to Mark, and got an angry hush for his efforts.
"No talking," Mark spit angerly at the clueless three. "Sound carries and we are trying to get away, not tell them where we are."
The clueless three fell silent, but followed the only protection they had been able to find in the shooting confusion.
The expanded group traveled hard and fast, the clans men on high alert.
Clora made three more trips out to the wooded area behind the barn. She stuck twigs upright in the ground, marking places that she felt needed explored. Tess finally came out and with the boys and joined in the fun escapade of following Ma and grandma on an adventure.
Starting out at a fast walk, Al was weaving between clumps and thickets of willow and piled up debris. It was slow tedious going, but the danger behind them pushed with urgency. Big scouted in front, Milo followed the wagon, and Mark lagged behind to confuse the tracks by going backwards and crossing sideways.
The wagon tracks were a giveaway, but for sure they needed to angle out of the soupy river soil, even if they were more exposed out in the open.
Milo was evidently of the same opinion, as the wagon started to turn toward the left, away from the river. It was a wonderful blessing that they happened upon the 'road',
it was a hard packed surface that allowed the wagon and team to gallop a ways.
They nearly ran over the small group of horses and people waiting at the bend in the road. The galloping team shied at the sudden appearance of the unexpected strangers. Al never slacked off, keeping the team pushing ahead at full speed. He was actually more interested in saving his own hide, as he was interested in helping his prisoners or strangers.
Mark came along after, meeting the small collection of two men and one woman.
"You must be Mr. Linderman," the tallest of the men announced. "I'm Adam, Tom's boy."
Mark nodded in a frustrated manner. "Look, get on your horses and ride hard, there are shooters behind us that are set to kill to get to the men in the prison wagon. If they find you, you'll die like the rest of the camp back there." and he took off at a gallop.
The three looked at each other and scrambled for the saddles.
Mark had not meant for the three to follow him, he supposed they would take off in an opposite direction, but no, they came thundering, blundering along.
It was a blessing in disguise. The additional horses did a lot to scatter the tracks of the wagon, and they were gun holders if necessary.
Al ran the horses until they were well lathered and heaving, blowing with the effort. Not stopping, the scared driver kept them at a walk to cool down and even out their breathing.
Adam tried to talk once again to Mark, and got an angry hush for his efforts.
"No talking," Mark spit angerly at the clueless three. "Sound carries and we are trying to get away, not tell them where we are."
The clueless three fell silent, but followed the only protection they had been able to find in the shooting confusion.
The expanded group traveled hard and fast, the clans men on high alert.
Clora made three more trips out to the wooded area behind the barn. She stuck twigs upright in the ground, marking places that she felt needed explored. Tess finally came out and with the boys and joined in the fun escapade of following Ma and grandma on an adventure.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Oh boy,, and Tom's boy wow.
Sammy55
Veteran Member
More and more and more
mysteries to explore.
Pac knows how to keep us hooked
as she writes her Clora books.
Clora's clan are in our hearts
and their stories are a part
Of our memories galore.
Pac, we know you have more in store!
Thanks much from us to you
for all the writing that you do!
You'll always have us, dear friend...
until the very end!
Hope you are feeling better and better each day!
I love the excitement and new mysteries. Whatever is Clora doing and feeling?
mysteries to explore.
Pac knows how to keep us hooked
as she writes her Clora books.
Clora's clan are in our hearts
and their stories are a part
Of our memories galore.
Pac, we know you have more in store!
Thanks much from us to you
for all the writing that you do!
You'll always have us, dear friend...
until the very end!
Hope you are feeling better and better each day!
I love the excitement and new mysteries. Whatever is Clora doing and feeling?
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#394
Big was having a hard tie staying ahead of Al and the team; but he eventually found the spot he was looking for. The river made a sharp elbow type turn and in flood stage had dropped good sized boulders along the bank. Not perfect, but the best cover available given the circumstances.
As they got situated and backed the wagon behind the tallest bank and rocks; the sound of shooting reached their ears.
Tom and his friends were set by the water, Mark telling them to use the river as a means of escape, if they were overrun. Tom seemed to be the only one to understand the situation and danger they were in, and Mark relied on him to keep the other two safe as possible.
The oncoming raiders were almost upon the clan before they realized the men had taken a return attack position. It was a hard and brief fire fight; the Linderman men shooting accurately against the ten man force.
The men in the wagon had been instructed to lay on the floor to present as low a profile as possible. The only man that wouldn't bend because he felt the attackers wouldn't shoot him, was dead. The man had been drilled through the forehead, and there was a nasty splatter of used human all over the back of the wagon and several of the men.
It came as a shocking surprise to the incarcerated men, that the attackers they believed were coming to save them, were actually a vigilante movement that had sworn to obliterate the anarchists.
It was a very different acting group of men that sat still and quiet in the prison wagon, shaken to their core by the loss of hope that they would be rescued.
The young man and woman that had come with Tom were dead. Both of them not believing that people would actually shoot at them with real, capable of killing bullets.
"Go through their pockets," Mark ordered Tom, "take anything of value and dump them in the river. If it bothers you, don't watch as we do the same for the rest of the men."
Al was uncomfortable, but held his tongue at the treatment of the raiders. Big and Milo drug the bodies to the river with their horses and ropes.
"Dad, what about that guy Phil? We aren't going to be able to haul him all the way to DC. He needs to go in the river with all the rest." Milo was patient, understanding Mark had an emotional connection to the man that had served in his sniper squad.
"Yeah, go ahead, you're right, we can't haul a dead man." Mark acquiesced finally.
Al loudly objected, Phil had been a good friend and mentor, but there was no way that he wanted to sit next to a dead man for 300 miles. He tried to get Mark to use one of the raiders horses to haul his friend, but Big settled the matter by cutting the ropes holding Phil and allowing the body to fall to the ground.
Milo went through the former deputy's pockets and kept a hand full of personal items and the man's badge tied up in his handkerchief. Big hauled him to the river and turned him loose. Mark asked for a minute of silence, and then motioned for Al to start driving.
There was no talking as Adam was put in charge of the nine horses. leading the mounts as the spoils of war. The tenth horse was relieved of his saddle and bridle and turned loose to heal from his leg wound.
The somber men rode hard and straight, meeting travelers and wayfarers using the daylight as time to travel on their way South.
Big was having a hard tie staying ahead of Al and the team; but he eventually found the spot he was looking for. The river made a sharp elbow type turn and in flood stage had dropped good sized boulders along the bank. Not perfect, but the best cover available given the circumstances.
As they got situated and backed the wagon behind the tallest bank and rocks; the sound of shooting reached their ears.
Tom and his friends were set by the water, Mark telling them to use the river as a means of escape, if they were overrun. Tom seemed to be the only one to understand the situation and danger they were in, and Mark relied on him to keep the other two safe as possible.
The oncoming raiders were almost upon the clan before they realized the men had taken a return attack position. It was a hard and brief fire fight; the Linderman men shooting accurately against the ten man force.
The men in the wagon had been instructed to lay on the floor to present as low a profile as possible. The only man that wouldn't bend because he felt the attackers wouldn't shoot him, was dead. The man had been drilled through the forehead, and there was a nasty splatter of used human all over the back of the wagon and several of the men.
It came as a shocking surprise to the incarcerated men, that the attackers they believed were coming to save them, were actually a vigilante movement that had sworn to obliterate the anarchists.
It was a very different acting group of men that sat still and quiet in the prison wagon, shaken to their core by the loss of hope that they would be rescued.
The young man and woman that had come with Tom were dead. Both of them not believing that people would actually shoot at them with real, capable of killing bullets.
"Go through their pockets," Mark ordered Tom, "take anything of value and dump them in the river. If it bothers you, don't watch as we do the same for the rest of the men."
Al was uncomfortable, but held his tongue at the treatment of the raiders. Big and Milo drug the bodies to the river with their horses and ropes.
"Dad, what about that guy Phil? We aren't going to be able to haul him all the way to DC. He needs to go in the river with all the rest." Milo was patient, understanding Mark had an emotional connection to the man that had served in his sniper squad.
"Yeah, go ahead, you're right, we can't haul a dead man." Mark acquiesced finally.
Al loudly objected, Phil had been a good friend and mentor, but there was no way that he wanted to sit next to a dead man for 300 miles. He tried to get Mark to use one of the raiders horses to haul his friend, but Big settled the matter by cutting the ropes holding Phil and allowing the body to fall to the ground.
Milo went through the former deputy's pockets and kept a hand full of personal items and the man's badge tied up in his handkerchief. Big hauled him to the river and turned him loose. Mark asked for a minute of silence, and then motioned for Al to start driving.
There was no talking as Adam was put in charge of the nine horses. leading the mounts as the spoils of war. The tenth horse was relieved of his saddle and bridle and turned loose to heal from his leg wound.
The somber men rode hard and straight, meeting travelers and wayfarers using the daylight as time to travel on their way South.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Goodness, kind of like some folks now that believe no one harm them as they don't know them. Thank you Pac.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
Folks, I'm having trouble with my eyes. See you Monday night.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#395
The longer Al bounced and twisted on the hard wagon seat, the angrier and upset he became. To his way of thinking, what they had done to those men they had killed was cruel and barbaric. In his anger he didn't stop to think about the barbaric way the attackers had fired upon and killed many dozen people as they rode through the night encampments.
Al wanted to crawl down off the seat and go find Phil's body and give it the proper burial that his friend and mentor deserved. He sat and drove through the swarms of people, until he was so coldly furious that he abruptly sawed on the reins to halt the team, and announced to Milo; who was riding close, that he was going back to find and bury Phil.
Milo argued with the delusional Marshall, until Mark caught up with the wagon and heard what was happening.
The best of their arguments did nothing to sway Al's firmly made up mind.
"Al, be reasonable, how are you going to find Phil; and what will stop the local authorities from suspecting you as his killer. Especially when you know he was in the river."
"That's a chance I'm gonna have to take. I have my badge, and that should get me through the investigations. I'm sure as soon as I explain how the group pursuing us and killing people were trying to overtake and kill us in cold blood, to get to our prisoners, any authority would certainly understand. I'll have you know that I simply cannot leave Phil in the river, that's indecent and a outrage to his memory."
Mark looked at the young green Marshall and quietly asked, "you're sure you want to do this?"
Al vigorously nodded yes, acting like he expected Mark to oppose his ideas.
"Then goodbye," Mark said. "Take your horse and get gone, we're burning daylight and need to be moving on."
By this time, Big had come back to the wagon from his forward scouting. "I'll drive," he announced as he tied his horse to the back of the wagon and handed the untied reins of Al's horse to the brash young man.
Seconds later the wagon started forward, and Mark rode around Al, who was standing in the road beginning to wonder if he had been hasty and foolish.
No, by gosh, he wasn't hasty and foolish; he told himself as he swung in the saddle and started the trek downriver. Those people were uncivilized and outrageous. Why they barely blinked a eye at all the killing and body disposal. Al looked for a good sized stick to toss in the river, to gauge how swift the current was flowing.
He had three hours of hard riding to take him back to the place Phil had been dumped. He was determined to find his friend.
The longer Al bounced and twisted on the hard wagon seat, the angrier and upset he became. To his way of thinking, what they had done to those men they had killed was cruel and barbaric. In his anger he didn't stop to think about the barbaric way the attackers had fired upon and killed many dozen people as they rode through the night encampments.
Al wanted to crawl down off the seat and go find Phil's body and give it the proper burial that his friend and mentor deserved. He sat and drove through the swarms of people, until he was so coldly furious that he abruptly sawed on the reins to halt the team, and announced to Milo; who was riding close, that he was going back to find and bury Phil.
Milo argued with the delusional Marshall, until Mark caught up with the wagon and heard what was happening.
The best of their arguments did nothing to sway Al's firmly made up mind.
"Al, be reasonable, how are you going to find Phil; and what will stop the local authorities from suspecting you as his killer. Especially when you know he was in the river."
"That's a chance I'm gonna have to take. I have my badge, and that should get me through the investigations. I'm sure as soon as I explain how the group pursuing us and killing people were trying to overtake and kill us in cold blood, to get to our prisoners, any authority would certainly understand. I'll have you know that I simply cannot leave Phil in the river, that's indecent and a outrage to his memory."
Mark looked at the young green Marshall and quietly asked, "you're sure you want to do this?"
Al vigorously nodded yes, acting like he expected Mark to oppose his ideas.
"Then goodbye," Mark said. "Take your horse and get gone, we're burning daylight and need to be moving on."
By this time, Big had come back to the wagon from his forward scouting. "I'll drive," he announced as he tied his horse to the back of the wagon and handed the untied reins of Al's horse to the brash young man.
Seconds later the wagon started forward, and Mark rode around Al, who was standing in the road beginning to wonder if he had been hasty and foolish.
No, by gosh, he wasn't hasty and foolish; he told himself as he swung in the saddle and started the trek downriver. Those people were uncivilized and outrageous. Why they barely blinked a eye at all the killing and body disposal. Al looked for a good sized stick to toss in the river, to gauge how swift the current was flowing.
He had three hours of hard riding to take him back to the place Phil had been dumped. He was determined to find his friend.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you pac, hope your eyes feel better.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#396
Milo scouted on ahead, finding a crush of people moving a snail's pace southward. Riding back to the wagon, he got there just in time to hear the prisoners whine and complain about not having anything to eat or water to drink.
"None of us have anything to eat or drink. There are so many people on the road, there's no game to hunt, and the river is the only water. Let me know when you want a drink," he sarcastically replied. The water was muddy and carried floating debris of unknown substances.
"Big, we need to call Dad up here and have a conference. The people we are meeting are so tired, they're walking like robots and refusing to let us pass at our speed. I also worry about people so close to the wagon." he murmured. "It could be that crossing the river is our only hope to make any time at all."
Big gave a telling look at the roiling water, but nodded yes to Milo. "Do you think that kid might be able to drive. If he can, I could scout way on ahead for a crossing."
"I'll put it to Dad, I see him catching up to us. We know that boy's Dad, but don't know the kid at all. I know what I'd do, but I'm not my father." Milo grinned at Big.
It was a secret conversation between the clan group. Nobody could accurately predict what Mark thought or would say. Many a handful of nickels had changed owners as the men bet, won or lost on their predictions. Big grinned back.
Big rested the horses while Milo and Mark conferred out of earshot of the wagon and riders.
"I'm for letting the kid drive, Big or I can take over on any tight spots, but I'm thinking we need to cross the river and take our chances on the other side." Milo outlined his plan. "I've not seen anyone on the other bank at all. so perhaps we might be able to take some small game or such. Everyone is getting hungry."
Mark gave a small smile, remembering Milo's early days when he could out eat anyone, especially for a cookie.
"Sounds like a plan," Mark agreed and they both went to talk to Adam. Adam was busy tying the horses pack string style; so he didn't have to hold so any ropes.
"Yes Sir, I can drive. I ain't real polished, but I'm tolerable." The young man answered. "These horses will follow the way they're tied. If you're wanting to cross the river, my pap is working at the ferry, earning passage for me when I git there. We was go'on to cross and get shet of all these people."
"Tom is at the ferry?" Mark questioned. "How far upstream do we need to go?"
"Don't know for sure, never been up this way before. Pap and me made arrangements way back down past the encampment. He doesn't know I met up with that brother and sister, but they were scared to stay by themselves. So you guys can help with gettin across." Adam said with a grin.
Mark agreed and with Milo and Big riding abreast in front of the wagon, they were able to push through the crowd of humanity.
Milo scouted on ahead, finding a crush of people moving a snail's pace southward. Riding back to the wagon, he got there just in time to hear the prisoners whine and complain about not having anything to eat or water to drink.
"None of us have anything to eat or drink. There are so many people on the road, there's no game to hunt, and the river is the only water. Let me know when you want a drink," he sarcastically replied. The water was muddy and carried floating debris of unknown substances.
"Big, we need to call Dad up here and have a conference. The people we are meeting are so tired, they're walking like robots and refusing to let us pass at our speed. I also worry about people so close to the wagon." he murmured. "It could be that crossing the river is our only hope to make any time at all."
Big gave a telling look at the roiling water, but nodded yes to Milo. "Do you think that kid might be able to drive. If he can, I could scout way on ahead for a crossing."
"I'll put it to Dad, I see him catching up to us. We know that boy's Dad, but don't know the kid at all. I know what I'd do, but I'm not my father." Milo grinned at Big.
It was a secret conversation between the clan group. Nobody could accurately predict what Mark thought or would say. Many a handful of nickels had changed owners as the men bet, won or lost on their predictions. Big grinned back.
Big rested the horses while Milo and Mark conferred out of earshot of the wagon and riders.
"I'm for letting the kid drive, Big or I can take over on any tight spots, but I'm thinking we need to cross the river and take our chances on the other side." Milo outlined his plan. "I've not seen anyone on the other bank at all. so perhaps we might be able to take some small game or such. Everyone is getting hungry."
Mark gave a small smile, remembering Milo's early days when he could out eat anyone, especially for a cookie.
"Sounds like a plan," Mark agreed and they both went to talk to Adam. Adam was busy tying the horses pack string style; so he didn't have to hold so any ropes.
"Yes Sir, I can drive. I ain't real polished, but I'm tolerable." The young man answered. "These horses will follow the way they're tied. If you're wanting to cross the river, my pap is working at the ferry, earning passage for me when I git there. We was go'on to cross and get shet of all these people."
"Tom is at the ferry?" Mark questioned. "How far upstream do we need to go?"
"Don't know for sure, never been up this way before. Pap and me made arrangements way back down past the encampment. He doesn't know I met up with that brother and sister, but they were scared to stay by themselves. So you guys can help with gettin across." Adam said with a grin.
Mark agreed and with Milo and Big riding abreast in front of the wagon, they were able to push through the crowd of humanity.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Many thanks Pac.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#37
Itching for a little adventure to ease the pain of being left behind, Wyatt, Toby and Donny went adventuring. Carefully combing the known boundaries of the retreat, they went exploring the adjacent fields and forest tangles beyond the ownership lines.
It was a fantastic morning when they found the caves. Estimated to be a half mile from the south west corner of the property, down by the river. Guns ready, the trio went exploring the dark and mostly dry limestone cave.
"Somebody's run shine out of here," Wyatt looked at the old rusty equipment that hadn't been used in a good many years. "Perfect setup, with water so handy.' he remarked.
"I hear water running," Donny piped up, "sounds like a pretty good stream. This wouldn't be a bad place as a back up to the retreat, if something happened to the buildings."
"Yes," Toby agreed as his interest was caught by several names scrawled on the cave wall. "Outlaws have used this as a hideout, maybe Ma or Tess could come 'test' the floor and see if anything might be buried. See that one name. Doolan? There was a bunch of outlaws called the Doolan gang, along with the Clantons, that did a lot of robberies in this area."
"Cool" Donny enthused, "heck, this might turn out to be a prime place for a 'man cave'." He chuckled at his own cleverness. "You guys got that, didn't ya?" he snickered.
"Yeah, we got that you make terrible puns and think they are real clever," Wyatt ruined his deadpan delivery by finally laughing. "We aren't really equipped to go spelunking, we need ropes and torches. What about looking in the mouth of the other cave?" he was already on his way back to the sunlight of the cave entrance,
Toby and Donny followed, and they had to get on their knees to fit into the smaller hole that beckoned their curiosity.
"Hey," Wyatt hollered back to the other two, "this cave drops down out of sight, about six feet in. I'm coming back out, I don't want to misstep and fall to who knows where."
Once back on solid ground, Wyatt shook himself with a case of the near miss shivers. "I can tell ya, that is one spooky place. There's a lot of moaning and groaning you can hear in there, and I hope to heaven that's just the wind blowing through."
"Good an answer, as it can be," Toby aid calmly. "Did you feel any breezes on your face, like the wind is getting in somewhere?
"Yeah, it's a much cooler place, has a real damp feeling to it. I want to throw some rocks in there and listen for them to hit bottom."
"Go for it," Toby approved, anxious to know what they were dealing with.
Wyatt threw his fair sized rock and counted seconds all the way up to 1056, before there was a faint sound of the rock hitting water.
"That's big and deep sounding, a bad place for kids to be around. We probably need to make a substantial door to keep kids and dogs away from being hurt. I'm sure we'll be making a door pronto, as soon as the ladies hear about it. Toby looked at the prize cave they had found, "actually some sort of door for that cave is a good idea, maybe set back in some, so it's not immediately noticeable that it's being used."
All three men were in agreement; and talked about the materials needed to craft the doors, as they rode home.
Itching for a little adventure to ease the pain of being left behind, Wyatt, Toby and Donny went adventuring. Carefully combing the known boundaries of the retreat, they went exploring the adjacent fields and forest tangles beyond the ownership lines.
It was a fantastic morning when they found the caves. Estimated to be a half mile from the south west corner of the property, down by the river. Guns ready, the trio went exploring the dark and mostly dry limestone cave.
"Somebody's run shine out of here," Wyatt looked at the old rusty equipment that hadn't been used in a good many years. "Perfect setup, with water so handy.' he remarked.
"I hear water running," Donny piped up, "sounds like a pretty good stream. This wouldn't be a bad place as a back up to the retreat, if something happened to the buildings."
"Yes," Toby agreed as his interest was caught by several names scrawled on the cave wall. "Outlaws have used this as a hideout, maybe Ma or Tess could come 'test' the floor and see if anything might be buried. See that one name. Doolan? There was a bunch of outlaws called the Doolan gang, along with the Clantons, that did a lot of robberies in this area."
"Cool" Donny enthused, "heck, this might turn out to be a prime place for a 'man cave'." He chuckled at his own cleverness. "You guys got that, didn't ya?" he snickered.
"Yeah, we got that you make terrible puns and think they are real clever," Wyatt ruined his deadpan delivery by finally laughing. "We aren't really equipped to go spelunking, we need ropes and torches. What about looking in the mouth of the other cave?" he was already on his way back to the sunlight of the cave entrance,
Toby and Donny followed, and they had to get on their knees to fit into the smaller hole that beckoned their curiosity.
"Hey," Wyatt hollered back to the other two, "this cave drops down out of sight, about six feet in. I'm coming back out, I don't want to misstep and fall to who knows where."
Once back on solid ground, Wyatt shook himself with a case of the near miss shivers. "I can tell ya, that is one spooky place. There's a lot of moaning and groaning you can hear in there, and I hope to heaven that's just the wind blowing through."
"Good an answer, as it can be," Toby aid calmly. "Did you feel any breezes on your face, like the wind is getting in somewhere?
"Yeah, it's a much cooler place, has a real damp feeling to it. I want to throw some rocks in there and listen for them to hit bottom."
"Go for it," Toby approved, anxious to know what they were dealing with.
Wyatt threw his fair sized rock and counted seconds all the way up to 1056, before there was a faint sound of the rock hitting water.
"That's big and deep sounding, a bad place for kids to be around. We probably need to make a substantial door to keep kids and dogs away from being hurt. I'm sure we'll be making a door pronto, as soon as the ladies hear about it. Toby looked at the prize cave they had found, "actually some sort of door for that cave is a good idea, maybe set back in some, so it's not immediately noticeable that it's being used."
All three men were in agreement; and talked about the materials needed to craft the doors, as they rode home.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Very big thank you Pac.
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#398
The grumbling from the prison wagon tapered off, they had some water but no food, and the men learned to conserve their energy by not complaining.
The band of marshals were as hungry as the rest, during the two days it took to reach the ferry.
The small enclave of buildings didn't look promising to have a store; but there was a grocery of sorts in the tent closest to the river. If they needed food, it was going to be oatmeal. Mark suspected the store keeper had other provisions that he wasn't interested in providing to strangers.
The whole group of ferry hands seemed very anxious for the Lindermans to get gone, and Mark was instantly suspicious of the motives. Mark asked to work for the ferry charge, not expecting to travel for free.
The ferry operator declined the offer, stating if the men would help move the log raft across the river, he would appreciate them moving on. Mark bargained as best he could, buying the oatmeal and beans, planning on stopping on the other side to cook the sack of rolled oats.
Tom was there, but he acted aloof and projected the attitude that he didn't know his friends and son. Adam was happy to see his father, and Mark had to caution the young man to let Tom call the shots.
"Adam, there is some reason Tom is not acknowledging us. He obviously has more information about the men here, than we do. So stay cool and ignore your Dad, unless he gives you an order concerning the movement of the raft. We'll find out soon enough, what's going on."
It took a couple of hours to get across the river; the prison wagon loaded with men was heavy. Big, Mark, Milo and then Adam and Tom and another man from the ferry camp strained and sweated, and moved the raft slowly across.
The river wasn't wide nor all that fast moving, but the men were weak from the lack of food. Finally landing on the other side, Big drove the wagon off and prepared to go back for the horses.
The man from the camp spit his tobacco, and grinned with stained teeth. "Them horses are us'ens now. You men just keep movin on and we'll all be happy."
Tom caught Mark's eye and nodded, silently urging his friend to accept the deal for the good of them all.
It took a while, but Mark finally agreed, shooting the grinning man a hard look. The man got back on the raft, waiting for Tom to board, and was surprised when Tom kicked the mooring rope loose and sent the raft spinning out into the river.
Hollering in his anger, the man had to pay attention to the rope and pull, or loose the raft.
"I'm sure glad I insisted in loading our horses, the captured horses are a loss, but I would have had to go back and shoot the whole lot of them in order to keep our nags." Mark motioned for Big to drive away from the river.
"We need to be out of sight of the camp," Tom cautioned. "That's a robbers roost, and they were plenty nervous about you men being the law. I know you guys are hungry; but better to be hungry than dead."
The grumbling from the prison wagon tapered off, they had some water but no food, and the men learned to conserve their energy by not complaining.
The band of marshals were as hungry as the rest, during the two days it took to reach the ferry.
The small enclave of buildings didn't look promising to have a store; but there was a grocery of sorts in the tent closest to the river. If they needed food, it was going to be oatmeal. Mark suspected the store keeper had other provisions that he wasn't interested in providing to strangers.
The whole group of ferry hands seemed very anxious for the Lindermans to get gone, and Mark was instantly suspicious of the motives. Mark asked to work for the ferry charge, not expecting to travel for free.
The ferry operator declined the offer, stating if the men would help move the log raft across the river, he would appreciate them moving on. Mark bargained as best he could, buying the oatmeal and beans, planning on stopping on the other side to cook the sack of rolled oats.
Tom was there, but he acted aloof and projected the attitude that he didn't know his friends and son. Adam was happy to see his father, and Mark had to caution the young man to let Tom call the shots.
"Adam, there is some reason Tom is not acknowledging us. He obviously has more information about the men here, than we do. So stay cool and ignore your Dad, unless he gives you an order concerning the movement of the raft. We'll find out soon enough, what's going on."
It took a couple of hours to get across the river; the prison wagon loaded with men was heavy. Big, Mark, Milo and then Adam and Tom and another man from the ferry camp strained and sweated, and moved the raft slowly across.
The river wasn't wide nor all that fast moving, but the men were weak from the lack of food. Finally landing on the other side, Big drove the wagon off and prepared to go back for the horses.
The man from the camp spit his tobacco, and grinned with stained teeth. "Them horses are us'ens now. You men just keep movin on and we'll all be happy."
Tom caught Mark's eye and nodded, silently urging his friend to accept the deal for the good of them all.
It took a while, but Mark finally agreed, shooting the grinning man a hard look. The man got back on the raft, waiting for Tom to board, and was surprised when Tom kicked the mooring rope loose and sent the raft spinning out into the river.
Hollering in his anger, the man had to pay attention to the rope and pull, or loose the raft.
"I'm sure glad I insisted in loading our horses, the captured horses are a loss, but I would have had to go back and shoot the whole lot of them in order to keep our nags." Mark motioned for Big to drive away from the river.
"We need to be out of sight of the camp," Tom cautioned. "That's a robbers roost, and they were plenty nervous about you men being the law. I know you guys are hungry; but better to be hungry than dead."