him off. You had the right,” continued Jake.
“Afraid to do. Minsa cousin try to run white man off land, and they had big fight. White man was on top of cousin chokin’ him. Cousin pull knife and stick him dead,” murmured Minsa.
“Judge arrest him and said he murder. Judge hang cousin. Minsa no want to hang. We come to get help from Wilsons.”
Lott saw the fear in their eyes and sadly remembered that Minsa had onced governed this land and ruled the woodlands and disciplined anyone who did not follow the tribal law. Now Minsa’s independence was gone and he had become an outsider in the land he once possessed.
“That’s smart to come get us to help ya,” replied Lott. “Jake and I’ll go get the horses, and we’ll put a stop to this. And I did hear about that killin’. I thought the judge made a mistake,” Lott said.
“Minsa, you and Hatta come up to the house with us. Lott and me is goin’ down there and create a livin’ hell for someone,” blurted out Jake, as he reached for Hatta’s hand.
“Minsa, you unharness my mules, leave the plow and gear here, and take them animals to the barn,” Jake said.
“Jake, we going to go down there and see if a mistake has been made, and there ain’t going to be no bloodshed. You hear me,” shouted Lott still trying to get his mule out of the field and headed in the right direction.
Back at the house, it didn’t take Lott and Jake long to put the mules in the barn and get the horses saddled. In a matter of minutes, they galloped out of the barnyard and headed for Minsa’s land four miles south.
The brothers couldn’t say a word as they raced through the forest weaving their way through the open woodlands. As Jake’s big golden buckskin stallion approached a thicket near a stand of virgin pines, he flushed a covey of quail which caused the stallion to stop suddenly sending Jake sailing and headlong into a thicket. To Lott’s surprise, Jake didn’t say a single curse word. He just remounted his horse and pushed the animal harder than ever to catch up.
As they approached Minsa’s land, they could hear a crosscut saw and smell smoke. They also knew from the markings that this was Minsa’s land.
They slowed their horses as they approached two men who were dropping a huge beech tree. One was a big black man, almost as large as Jake.
“You men workin’ hard,” questioned Lott, as he and Jake brought their horses to a stop.
“You might say that, and what is you doin’ down here?” replied the white man pushing his hair out of his eyes so he could see.
It was Frank Olliver.
Lott quickly dismounted and went over to shake Frank’s hand. Recognizing Lott, Frank laid his saw down and hurried to meet his old companion.
“What the hell you boys doin’ down here? I heard you was some-wheres in these woods, and it’s about time we had a get together” laughed Frank, as he shook Lott’s hand and patted him on the back.
“What the hell you doin’ here?” Jake said angrily, as he remained saddled and made no effort to greet his old friend.
“Get off that ole horse, and let’s talk a spell,” replied Frank trying to avoid the question.
“You boys has changed some since I last seen ya. Just look at them beards, and Jake you seem to have lost some weight too. Lott, you’s gettin’ a lot of grey hair mighty early, ain’t ya?” chuckled Frank.
Jake reluctantly dismounted and walked slowly over to greet him. Jake and Lott had mixed emotions about Frank. They still considered Frank a friend, but he was up to no good and they had to stop him. Their anger gradually changed to suspicion.
After about an hour of sharing the past year’s experience, Lott finally asked Frank the question both parties had been avoiding. “Frank, do you know that this land you’s workin’ ain’t yores?” stated Lott. “You’s workin’ another man’s land.”
Frank squirmed nervously. “Lott, I want you to meet the first niggar in these parts. This here is Toby. My paw-in-law in Louisiana let me borrow him to help me get this place started.”
Toby raised his hand to acknowledge his introduction but remained seated at the base of a large beech tree studying this unusual pair that had ridden in on them so suddenly.
“Is he a slave, Frank?” questioned Jake.
“Well, he ain’t my slave, Jake. He’s my paw-in-law’s slave. When I get through with him, I’ll send him on back to the bayou country.”
“Frank, we don’t like slavery, and I hope there ain’t no slaves kept in this county. It ain’t right,” stated Lott.
“Lott, let me tell ya sump’n. Slavery’s legal, and these niggars are property just like yore mules, plus we treat them a helluvah lot better than you treat them animals of yores,” Frank said, becoming angry at the way Lott and Jake were questioning him.
“And yes, I know this here is a Choctaw’s land I’m workin’, but they ain’t any better than that niggar sittin’ over there under that tree. Them Choctaws don’t know how to work this land.”
Jake had all he could stand and before Frank could make another statement, Jake jumped up and grabbed him by the shirt and lifted him off the ground until his feet were barely touching ground.
“Let me tell you sump’n, Frank Olliver! This Choctaw you’s talkin’ about is a friend of mine, and he is a helluvah lot better person than you is ever going to be,” shouted Jake, shaking him with each word.
Frank fearing for his life called out, “Toby! get this fool off me. Get the ax, Niggar! He’s going to kill me.”
Toby reached for the ax but Lott intervened.
“Wait a minute men! This here’s gone too far. Jake, let him down and just cool off some,” Lott said, getting hold of Jake and pulling Frank away from him. “And Toby, you don’t want none of Jake. He’ll hurt ya.”
“Yessuh, I didn’t want none of him, but I has to mind Mas’ Olliver,” replied Toby, laying the ax down.
“Frank, the only problem we has, is you is farmin’ a friend of ours land. It ain’t right; Judge Henry won’t go for it, and we need to stay friends, if’n we can,” stated Lott trying to restore peace and order.
Frank straightened his clothes and stammered some apologies.
“Maybe I did make a mistake to take this land, Lott, but I didn’t think the Choctaw would mind me using a few acres, and hell, Jake, I didn’t know he was a friend of yores,” replied Frank. “We got to live together.”
Lott and Jake nodded, straightened their clothes and mounted their horses for home. They doubted Frank’s sincerity and knew that their problems with Frank Olliver were just beginning. Mister Mac always Frank said couldn’t be trusted.
As they rode, little passed between them, but as they approached the house, Lott cautioned Jake about what had been forming in his mind.
“Jake, I got sump’n bothering me, and it’s got to come out,”
