complaints from his brother.
“You asleep?” hissed Jake, trying to revive the argument. “Lott, you remember Mrs. Barton, our fifth grade teacher? She gave me problems, too. She had the biggest set of tits I ever seen. Frank! Frank! You awake? Each one of them was this big.” Jake’s voice rose and he held his hands in such a way as to create an image of something large and round.
“Jake, just shut that damned mouth up and leave us be. Mrs. Barton’s titties weren’t that big either,” corrected Lott. “Every woman’s tits are watermelon size in yore mind.”
Laughter once again shattered the quietness of the woodlands.
“Well it’s good one of us was distracted by women; you’re going to miss out on the best of life. Books ain’t better than women!” answered Jake.
“All of ya just be quiet and let me get some sleep,” insisted Mister Mac. “You won’t see no watermelons or women out here in these woods. And Jake, them Choctaws ain’t going to bother us.”
“Well, I ain’t sleepin’ tonight. If them Choctaws get me, they is going to get me wide awake,” Jake answered, as he rose from the ground.
“Lott, Jake’s got a right to be afraid in these woods. It pays to be cautious out here. Things could happen to ya,” Frank said, as he got up and walked toward the horses to relieve himself.
“Them Indians ain’t no thin’ but filthy savages. I’ll be glad when they is all gone west or better still, I think we ought to just round ‘em up and shoot ‘em,” continued Frank, as he returned to the campsite. “It would save the trouble of movin’ ‘em. I ought to know not to drink so much coffee. I’ll be gettin’ up all through the night.”
“Frank, I’m not sure I agree with you about them Indians,” countered Mister Mac. “Them Choctaws ain’t done a thing to anyone I’ve talked with, and this here is their land that’s bein’ taken.”
“Just my opinion, Mister Mac, my opinion,” answered Frank.
Later in the night, the winds subsided and cloudy skies gave way to a dark heaven filled with millions of twinkling stars. Everything was finally quiet around the campfire.
Jake was the first one up and stirring the following morning and wrapped snugly in his blanket, he stood and admired the unusual rays of pink, blue, and purple bands of clouds gathering on the eastern horizon. After gazing at the skies for several minutes, he turned his attention to the forest and suddenly realized this was the most magnificent country they had traveled.
Behind him was a deep forest of long leaf pines stretching as far as he could see. Their massive trunks seemed to reach to heaven. Through the years, fires and bolts of lightning had scarred the sides of these ancient trees, but even these markings made them that much more majestic. As he looked southward, the pine forest gave way to stands of oak, hickory, poplar, beech, and other hardwood trees. Looking closer, Jake noticed a small area of open meadow freckled with deer gracefully gathering around the hardwood trees where an abundance of tasty acorns had fallen.
Jake had the impulse to walk into the forest to see this miracle of beauty, but the fear of the wilderness seized control of him.
He mumbled to himself, “Why am I afraid of them woods? It ain’t as rough as some of the places I’ve found myself in. I’ve faced guns and knives and some of the roughest men in Savannah. Hell, I ain’t going to let them trees make a coward out of me. fm goin’ in.”
Grasping his rifle in one hand and his hunting knife in the other, he quietly and cautiously crept over the dampened, newly fallen leaves and noted dozens of squirrels scurrying around the bases of the trees trying to unearth their morning meal.
Creeping closer and closer to the meadow, he saw a large herd of deer. Suddenly, a large flock of turkeys wandered out into the opening and began feeding on the plants and insects in the field. Occasionally, sun rays would strike the backs of these enormous birds and Jake could see shades of gold, bronze, and orange glittering from their long feathers as they fed from plant to plant.
Jake laid his rifle and knife down so he could crawl a little closer to observe these creatures. Turning his attention once more to the deer herd that had now moved within one hundred feet of him, he began counting.
“Fifty-two, fifty-three, and fifty-four,” whispered Jake. “Lott and them just won’t believe this,” Jake murmured to himself. “Well, I’d better get back to camp before they think something has got me.”
Jake started to get up, but suddenly a forceful hand pushed him down. A muscular Indian was standing behind him with an arrow notched in the bowstring and fully drawn.
The Indian looked down at him with dark, piercing eyes, and it was obvious to Jake, that he must be a fierce warrior. A long scar ran across his nose and down his cheek. Jake was terrified when he quickly realized his rifle and knife were lying on the ground thirty feet behind him. Feeling he could not get up in time to stop the arrow, he decided to try to jump the Indian anyway, hoping he would not be hit in the process.
Looking at the arrow once again, Jake reconsidered his plan. To his surprise, the Indian raised his bow toward the nearest deer and sent an arrow racing through the air striking the deer in the lower section of the neck. The animal ran but came crashing to the ground underneath one of the large oak trees across the meadow.
As it struggled to stand again, the hunter sprinted toward the downed animal, screaming and chanting. His long, black hair, shining in the early morning sunlight, bounced across his shoulders as he ran toward the kill.
Jake thought to himself, “Which is the more magnificent of these creatures? The deer or this Choctaw who came up behind me without my knowledge and could’ve taken my life had he wanted to?”
Jake ran back toward the camp without a backward glance to see whether the Indian was at the kill or after him. Upon reaching the site, he found everyone just as he had left them sleeping and snoring. Nothing had changed, at least not for them.
Jake contemplated whether or not to share his experience with his friends, but decided to keep it to himself.
“They won’t believe me if I tell them what I seen, and if they do, they’ll probably just make fun of me,” murmured Jake. “But I survived my first venture into them woods, and that Indian didn’t even try to kill me. Hell, he was probably more scairt of me than I was of him. Get up, get up, you lazy bastards! It’s a fine day to be alive and nary a bear, panther, or Indian has got ahold of this lovely carcass of mine. We is going to tame this here wilderness,” hollered Jake, as he shook the men vigorously.
“You sound mighty brave this morning, Mister Jake. I guess the daylight makes all them fears go away,” Frank said, pulling himself up to the coals to make a pot of fresh coffee. “You is a daytime warrior and a night-time chicken.”
“Don’t get him started again, Frank. We got to work today,” ordered Mister Mac.
The group straightened up camp and loaded the pack-horses with their equipment, but Mister Mac decided to make a change in plans.
“Boys, since this here is a pretty good place for us to camp, I think we’ll just use this spot as our base. From this point we can lay out a township in each direction. This can be what you call, the crossroads. That sound all right with you men?”
The group agreed and only loaded surveying equipment on the
