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2

          Grandmother sat facing Gray Cloud as big poplar canoe moved out of narrow rocky inlet to wider bay. “Grandmother,” Gray Cloud spoke softly. Rocky Island and Downy Day propelled the boat, Gray Cloud simply steered for now, drafting long oar back. Blue Sky smiled, hunkered low to watch unfolding scenario with quick eyes. “I have seen the Michimauga riches. They do store a bank we could stake a community, lodges, schools, hospitals. We must bring the Osages to brotherhood.” Grandmother nodded, bright eyes questioning, needing no verbal answer.

          “Herons make many splashes,” Blue Sky pointed, birds indeed frenzied feeding on shallow gravel bar. Eagles darted through fray to splash then lumber aloft, laboring with flopping meal to tall tree tops. Hawks and kingfishers reluctantly gave place intruded upon, numerous walleyed pike fish struggled half beached. Picking and netting easily, supper and smoker stock secured.

          At Abode-in-Woods Raven played music with Spanish guitar, gourd and skin drums accompanied, walleye and turkey cooked. Gray Cloud and Grandmother in veranda shade admired oak columns. Red Cloud held court: “these pillars are from deadhead logs, Gray, best you can get, best have oxen or Clydesdale horses and spools of quality Russian long rope to pluck these from the muck.”  Red Cloud strode about chambers, open air patio, Spanish style veranda hall, studied file boxes a moment, pulled big floppy map to tilted display table, drawing light closer made slight marks on the map, horizontal line midsection. “Just as the English claimed over one hundred years ago this dividing line separates Spanish Arkansas from Missouri, Tennessee from Kentucky, Carolina from Virginia. if we can get the Osage to give up exclusive hunting rights below the thirty six thirty line, Just as the English, French, and Spanish all have deeded us at times, all civilized tribes can join together.” Gray Cloud agreed, “the Michimauga have precious metals, I have seen it.” Grandmother stood in resolution, “each clan, each tribe has value to give.”  Gray Cloud looked in earnest to Red, “we might make to Wahpeton’s hill on the morning.” “Yes,” Red Cloud paced, “we will see Wahpeton, the Michimauga are here, Choctaw and Creek. If Florida and Alabama tribes come and unite, not skirmish and trick, scattering and losing.”  Gray Cloud felt he knew the pulse of the region a little better than Red Cloud, who spent long periods back east. "Above all we do not breech the backbone. Truce. Neutrality. We do not breech Devil's Backbone. Sacred Peace paramount.

          Red Cloud had a skiff with a nose like a shovel used to visit fires across inlets or gig frogs checking fishing lines late at night. He went to the pigpen, Old Pig Vonnegut slaughtering and packing for visit to Wahpeton. Forty Islands great destination any time, big waterfalls roaring welcome. Red Cloud swam in midnight moon, splashing and floating, cooling, refreshed...

          Grandmother and Blue Sky packed canoe tight with best mink blankets. Carefully Red Cloud loaded long rifle and musket. Gray Cloud took the Osage bow. Red Cloud helped journey a half day upstream fishing or hunting. Cool northerly breezes greeted winding among soft wooded canyons. Often fire filled skies with blue smoke, red horizons shimmered. The burning land. Soon water falls laughed or roared in kind from steep raised banks. White curtains glimpsed back in canyons. Blue Sky pleaded for closer looks, but pointing, straight line from point to point, angling, trolling currents and wind, ruled the journey.

          Deep ravines showed dim flat water trails snaking into highland bayou, tiny sage meadows lapped with gentle flood. Easing by such openings and meanders, short breaks adrift lush points or port a stretch on bare gravel beaches. Laughing Place not visible from main channels, no hint of majestic site showed from mainstream.

    Bee Lifter kept social club back in a cove. He organized quilters or sold honey and baby ponies, cruised among Forty Islands visiting camps collecting token barter. Gray Cloud trusted Bee Lifter, mostly because as a Lifter, Bee Lifter and son Little Bee Lifter held high station as Sentry and muster. Invasion of Osage or turncoat rogues up Bee Creek would pierce Otter Town, endanger Old School, wreak havoc among Cherokee. Bee Creek not a crucial water route, foot path accessible on horseback. There was talk of a Spanish road soon. Bee Lifter vulnerable, Bee Lifter suspect. Bee Lifter crucial. With longest standing bribe in effect over fifty years just adjacent Bee Creek,  Gray cloud worried other bribes to Bee Lifter, or Little Bee Lifter, might undo sacred peace. Undo sacred web.

At Wahpeton’s Hill Cherokee tarried, trading routine greetings and tidbits of common news with Osage caretaker, Dakota. Gray Cloud had helped the man build a cat walk and dock here. Dakota held high regard Duck Natives, particularly Grandmother Water Spider. He disclosed Wahpeton sojourned to Raccoon Springs.

          Finally flat water showed white curtain barring path. Mountain shelf dropped water straight down, any chutes or ramps turbulent risk. Big upright rock offered tether spike, all leapt from the craft but for Grandmother. Rocky Island and Downy Day heaved and pulled the boat to higher plane, immediately pressed on. Paddles bit flat water, roar subsided. Bigger falls greeted north, another river joined Southfork from Missouri, fed by cold Mammoth Spring. Roar and spray awed travelers relaxing in trance, mesmerized by jumbled white currents, pulsing and leaping. Relentless roar muffled voices. Big bear wheeled to splash away, fish leapt to the lip, struggling quickly to gain upper reaches and dart into pitted shadow. Eagles soared, circling with buzzards, herons waded, kingfisher flashed...

          Warmer water splashed swinging paddles, quiet river curved against sheer cedar bluffs. Again into sun quite a time until facing portage. The third simple portage since Abode-in-the-woods, Red and Gray rejoiced as a guitar player strummed beneath cavernous rock walls near falls. “Why anyone would travel by bumpy oxen or horse cart is beyond me.” Dozens of villagers chored and crafted at laughing creeks. Rocky outcrops hosted long jagged canyons, small and narrow, stopped or interrupted with twinkling water fall curtains white, bubbling and snickering, roaring or sighing in kind.

          Easily through chain of pools big poplar ocean standard canoe struck smooth. Rubbing gravel shoals to slow just a little, still the boat moved upstream. Pretty girls waved, old men held thumbs to spear points, boys yanked imaginary bowstrings, aiming high as if to arch arrows. Heart of Otter Town rough rocky rapids. Care skirting back flow and side pool got through. All marveled at twisting, snaking currents. Sheer cliffs jutted high above. Last pool long, bluffs on left, blue sky and hot sun baked, white water falls and gravel shone bright.

    Otter Lifter helped. Pony boys tugged at his direction. Red Cloud and Gray gave ultimate trust and respect to Otter Lifter. Most feared in old countries of Virginia, most beloved of Cherokee. "Dragging Canoe is my name back east," said Otter Lifter with a smile, "so I made a dragon canoe for them to fear." He showed his canoe with big torch mounted front. "The day I ride this boat into port will be the end time."

          At Raccoon Springs Raccoon Lifter greeted, directing youth, elders rejoiced, all tribes shook hands, many pipes smoked, claiming trust and hope for unified futures of Native Tribes. Red Cloud showed how new guns worked, shooting a raccoon tail from a post at one hundred steps. New musket scattershot an old barn door with uniform pattern.

Gray Cloud showed a cave with kegs of gun powder. Each Cherokee now carried horns of gun powder. Before this large shipment of guns and powder only rare western Cherokees chosen by council held fire arms. Instruction and discipline paramount, military discipline and techniques of guerilla war taught on common ground.

Still Osage bows ruled in silence. Archers of various nation competed or compared. Knowledge traded, secrets of skill and technique shared freely here. Mingos from back east molded bullets from raw lead. Fine mixes of gravel or scrap metals for self defense. Many Cherokee tried for murder could not prove self defense and were hung. but when white men killed Cherokee it was always self defense.

          Wahpeton seemed wise old chief now on rock bench. “Thunder you produce bodes storm approach. When Spanish first came we did not parley, fell on them in tight canyon and destroyed them. Only two thundershots fired, few of my people stabbed by long knives, but all Spaniards lay dead. Now the Spanish say they "own" our lands and waters. We dispute this. Thomas Skinner tells of shiploads of puritans with muskets, barges of redcoats with long rifles. Skinny whites encountered here are worthless, liquored up possums and foul smelling rats. Blacks are much more reliable, akin in spirit, united by need to unite. Black Natchez, Creek, Chickasaw, black Cherokee, paler faces of each tribe; Mingos. All must unite…”

          Crows cawed from points, hawks led frantic flight through forest canopy. Red Cloud and people traveled with Gray Cloud now, many coves quietly beckoned.  Wahpeton agreed to plead case for peace with Big Osage nation, on condition: no burning of land for hunting or clearing until such treaty struck.

·             Remnants of many nations now tucked away deep in tiny cove or canyon. Each claimed an island. Of forty islands around Wahpeton’s bluff, roughly half flew flag or tiny camp. Delaware brought paler folks with strange European dialect. Shawnee sheltered Huron women from wars in Ohio. Chickasaw diplomats camped with tall black Nuba from Africa by way of Haiti. Some Michimauga kept stone hammers, bushy beards protecting pale Celtic skin. Aztecs mingled, Zuni and Apache heritage evident in facial feature, artwork and pattern. The longest old man river of all  brought them from the west. At ocean  or Cape Girardo at Little Rock during high water, a turn north skirted White River and treacherous Lower Black, Rio Negro to Spaniards. Lake-of-the-Thunderbird where monstrous beasts: turtle, snake, fish flopped suddenly or lurked. But northwest into mountains strawberries and turkeys on cliff side veranda welcomed amid archers guarding every movement from hewn rock walls as desert ancestors had carved homes, kilted masons borrowing from old English castle defenses. Kokapelli left signs of some forgotten journey.

     Shanties at Black Rock showed stained glass light and rowdy party for years until Old Jane and Rose Ward burned it down. Pushers traded exotic drugs, tobacco, hemp, coca, opium; and distilled spirits: ale, whiskey, rum, gin, wine from far flung and fast boats out on the fringe of Cherokee Territory or over Devil's Backbone in Viola and Pfeiffer.

          Frogs bellowed or chorused, many kinds of frog,  murmurs and babbling of creeks or rushing rapids or cricket chorus different layers of sound. Smooth moving canoes made little sound but for tiny drips of water, unless party hunting little disruption of local drama ensued. Deer and turkey kept scarce, walleye, eagle, and cat darted away, but raccoon and possum, gar, songbird and butterfly meandered or watched a moment, maybe ambling away.

          Viola and Pfeiffer avoided by wise scouts, drunken thieves danced with pantaloon princesses at yellow windows. At Poplar Bluff Red Cloud and Gray Cloud went into posts posing as disoriented travelers, trading inferior furs or willow headache concoction for salt and lye. Trinkets, ribbons, and liquor they wisely ignored. Often taking an extra boat back to Laughing Water meant a trade. Delaware slid quietly by before dawn, headed upstream to enclaves and camp towns.

          Myriad creek bottom, impenetrable cane swamp hid tiny villages. Bottlenecks dangerous, attackers could rain arrows if banks narrowed. Far inland wide shallow creeks became still another lake. Blue Sky marveled at each unfolding. Grandmother spoke, “I have made the trip to Hidden Valley many times. Forty Islands was my home in youthful summers. You Blue Sky must remember all that you see. You must carry the memory to your grandchildren as I do to you.” Blue Sky listened intently, only interrupting to point out features, “I see a mulberry tree,” or “honey locust.”  Mulberry bark strips would busy them weaving mats and soft smocks, berries wondrous sweet snack, sweet locust valued for trade.

          Black Swamp waited. Vast pools of open water greeted travelers weary of squeezing by wooded cliff and dense cane. No longer showing wigglers and crawlers on bottoms, deep black water spread before them, towering cypress ringed slackwater pools. Straight as crow flight two long poplar canoes made east. Red Cloud commanded four warriors paddling. Four separate old clans represented, four old towns.

          Bono smoke signals meant peace. Easy gravel slopes welcomed, cottonwood grove littered firewood within easy reach. Cats hung meant fresh bowstring and spear bindings. Grandmother and Blue Sky joined others scraping and stringing, Red Cloud and Gray Cloud offered expertise in skinning. Hardened swamp travelers often excelled at many trades.

          Red Cloud raved fireside. Passion for life and hard travel permeated fellowship. “We must return under the hills and prepare our nation to come to the SouthFork.” Gray Cloud had discussed matters with Grandmother long hours, “I do not wish to hazard a journey east. I and mine must stake a claim and begin secret paths in case the Osage blockade. From our stone a simple portage, quick float to secret portage frees us to fly south on Strawberry River to Lake-of-the-Thunderbird. No other place in all Western Cherokee lands carry such undiscovered capability.

          I must parley with Michimauga. Potential wealth must be protected, this will sway Osages in the end. I must show them the secret way.” Red Cloud nodded with Grandmother. “I will make haste to gain Underhill. I will bring sturdy reliable guards and the best of our men not crazed with blood lust or doting with white ways. Hurry my brother Gray Cloud, while the swamp lists full. If it drops this summer we will be encumbered, our speed and ability upon water will wane.” Red Cloud stood in vision, “and we will have the copper bank buried near our secret route south. We will have a back up plan.”

          Into the sun once again Gray Cloud steered the canoe. This journey began at dusk. Confident now of making Abode-in-the-Woods, stealthier travels employed. Delaware and Shawnee spies at Poplar Bluff or Buck Skull would not note westward move. Drunken wharf thieves at Black Rock not sound alarm for bauble.  Sweet Raven would greet singing, brothers and sisters of peace feed and pour bath water, Grandmother pampered, great reverence given her every word. Raven would flirt with Downy Day and Rocky Island, girls rub shoulders, Blue Sky smile, Gray Cloud rest in cool cellar the long day.

          Abode-in-the-woods operated on approval of Wahpeton. The man risked death sentence should private treaty be discovered. Raven acted as registrar for Forty Islands. So far only sixteen civilized tribes had come to claim one of Forty Islands. Quapaw and Caddo early, last of tattered cultures, small island camps held display shields and daily communal stew. Nearby Yuchi held incense party and shaman prayer. Manhattan and Powhatan claimed nice beaches, strange sun bathers and gamers waded shallows between the two.

          Biggest central islands tended by Delaware and Shawnee became the hub. Here is where ethics of barter and peace strictly enforced. No interruptions allowed, no insisting your point of view be accepted in council.

          Various other tribes claimed islands: Chippewa, Choctaw, Chickasaw, Creek, Seminole, Osceola, Mingo, Huron, Wyandotte, Miami and Michamauga. Each brought display and talent or art from specific tribe to share here. Osage claimed all the land, officially others guests. Only Cherokee held mainland, and that only by grace of Wahpeton.

          Wahpeton knew that once the Zuni, Pueblo, Apache, and Ute came, once the Fox, Winnebago, and Dakota came, once the Shoshone, Blackfeet, Cheyenne, Pawnee and Cree came, once his own tribe accepted the Sioux, once each tribe had a seat at the conference of Forty Islands, then he must sway his own tribe to relinquish southern hunting grounds for good of all. When Comanches, Kiowas, and Lakotas stood along side Apache, to enforce treaty, to stand whites down. No war needed if such solidarity demonstrated. Wichita must concede hunting territories to coalition.

          Gray decided to part ways. Rocky Island, Downy Day, Blue Sky and Grandmother made upstream to Laughing Place easily without him to steer. He could be more tactfully employed as a wandering boatman at Poplar Bluff. Smoke trails straight into blue sky meant no alarm at Poplar Bluff.

          Frontier outpost of French, Gual, Spaniard, and Huron, the town honky tonked nights, many fires of burning canoes left continual gray haze. Hilltop shacks with jutted decks or stained glass tooted ragtime and booze. Shrieks of insane glee wafted, screams of drunken damned souls courted bay side homes or visitors. Gray Cloud had a pint of ale, gathering local gossip, gleaning knowledge slyly. Towing many canoes south ere dawn, deals done for mink coats and possum pouch of pure willow headache powder. Cherokee councils East and West forbade dancing to fiddle music.

          Into evening star Gray made round dusk. Fixing on dog star, easing chain of boats across capes; smooth travel to Abode-in-the-woods ere dawn. Rested in Raven’s cellar once more, mind adrift with possibilities, Gray sharpened focus, planning tactics and readiness in volatile situation.

         Wounded Raven Warrior clan members nursed painful injury here. Feared in Kentucky, proud Thunderbolt  warriors healed in peace, accepting shipments of lead from Old Jane's Post up a creek toward Missouri. Old Jane and Little Jane knew Delaware miners on Eleven Point River, smelting or melting bullets or sinkers. English gunsmiths, blacksmiths, and bulletsmiths worked alongside weavers and netters crafting fishing seines or casting nets. Should Osages brandish war club at treaty next month, blockade Pierce creek, little known portage trail must be utilized swiftly and efficient. Later in summer duress may occur, longer and steeper pony portage cumbersome. Ravenden would need rise wounded riflemen and face mighty Osage bowmen at Bowman hill.

          Just south strawberry growers lived in peace. On the Strawberry River heading south, Gray Cloud would outdistance any rivals. Some tribes, particularly from great lakes north showed comparable boats to Atlantic Ocean style canoes five men’s height long, the overall adaptability usually lacked. For instance, some of the massive cruiser canoes Michimauga and Illini sported could compete with Cherokee on open water only, when portages, shoals or rapids occurred, poplar easily beat them. When shallows and small portages many, birch canoes of certain tribes seemed faster to casual observers to one or two maneuvers. Squeezed over rapids, easily inverted for one man carry, birch did not near match poplar Atlantic Ocean style canoes in sliding over shallows using momentum, or cruising quick across any distance. Plus, even though one man could not carry a poplar for portage, two working together could, resuming float many people and much cargo.

          Gray Cloud must find Lone Wolf. Build a dam. In a moon water would wane. In two moons rivers narrow, wide dry lakes sprout green with grasses. Buffalo herds or pig and deer would lounge on shiny gravel bars, rapids and falls bar passage incessantly. Back at Etowah prairie sprouts green, iron plows and mules breaking ground. Buffalo herds thundered on new dry prairie emerging from swamp. Levees and terracing collect and conserve summer storms, temporarily flooding terrace crops.

          Lone Wolf protected beaver between Rock Creek and Strawberry waters. The animals helped portages immensely. Each long pond cutting a league or more of rough portage, enabling smooth sail or slight drag. But if beaver exterminated by roving trappers or scouts, rough portage hindered escape and evasion. One area was a natural mill pond with but a little dam. Just off secret trails, water  released at opportune time caused quick or gentle flood to enable or hinder  a quick window of time. If full scale duress occurred dam keepers released waters in succession. Desperate boaters rode the crest of a hurricane.

          Lone wolf tended coals in triple walled box. He killed fires each morning long before dawn so smoke would not be seen by marauders. Though Sacred Peace kept most acts of robbery, violence and evil at minimum here, hungry wanderers or deranged, banished scouts, disparate horse thieves, escaped slaves or accused fleeing might stumble upon mule trail or tiny cabin. Lone Wolf kept beaver trappers out with tricks of trade. Scare the superstitious lot with dead birds, skeletons in Calvary vests and voodoo masks or hornet nests, fake Osage shields elaborate with ritual feathers and insignia only guessed at. Consequently beaver thrived, holding long pools for easy flight.

          Lone Wolf kept ox, horse, mule, dog, a few pigs, chickens, and garden hoed with iron tool: corn, turnips, potatoes, attempting many other foods or useful vegetables, some squash made good food, other good gourds. He used a fine toothed saw from a British sawyer in Elkhorn Kentucky to cut firewood quietly, he kept ax in the shed, loathe to use it, axe blows rang out on cold mornings to signal snoopy hunters or scouts that might miss otherwise.

          A lonely quiet life suited Lone Wolf fine. He had been a part of a vibrant culture of Cherokee in Kentucky, adapting white ways of finery and envy, escaping slavery to own black slaves. His beautiful wife fell astray, pandering and bartering her sacred love for petty favor. She was brutalized and murdered at a tavern.

          Into the sun Lone Wolf had come. Grandmother Water Spider and clan suited him. Knowledge without relent. This clan, come to steal a piece of great Osage sun, knew worldly ways: of Britain, France, Spain, Africa, and Mexico or Yucatan. Americans with endless greed knew relentless double speak. Masters of argument, they “owned” land, “owned” people. They fouled waters, killed deer for horn or back strap only. Here in Ozarks forty tribes would unite, forty tribes would stand, forty tribes would conquer.

          Villages around Wahpeton’s hill subject to blockade, Osage could pin water spider clan into their canyon at any time. Osages did not know how quick water spider clan could flee across land to Rock Creek. Setting afloat in a channel, crossing lake body quickly, hemming deep into southerly arm water spider clan need only portage once more very quick to enter Strawberry waters. Few key points watched by Osage variants,  "retreating" Cherokee free to ply open swamp trails and increasingly wider lakes to Lake-of-the-Thunderbird, able to swing south to White River, east to Bono, or south east to Forest Town or the Hatchee system in Chickasaw Tennessee. Hurricane Lifter held strict ethic and resolve. Web strong.

           Lone Wolf held great knowledge. Should he spy certain smoke signal or hear certain keys of horn, he opened floodgates, readied waiting boats, dealing paddles. Chinese style Dynamite might blast beaver dams. Lone Wolf answered only to  Otter Lifter, Turkey Lifter, Gray Cloud and Red Cloud, or Grandmother Water Spider herself.

          Hidden cellar door revealed small cave, cool and dark, Lone Wolf stored traveler fare for many and explosives. Right here on the divide between South Fork and Strawberry rivers he kept trail. Hacking big rocks with sledge hammer till corners softened, Lone Wolf practiced portages, yanking chain of beater canoes up from Rock Creek, making downslope to Hurricane Creek and Strawberry River. Easy stuff when peak high water, during drought difficult.

    Hurricane Lifter strongest Cherokee farmed rocky fields, sawed wood of  many season, chiseled  canoes at high trail station or bundled mats of twigs to cushion hulls of boats while dragging. Youngsters bound mats with hemp string. Lone Wolf knew Gray Cloud favored hidden store of boats awaiting foot travelers; not made here, fires signaled West Cliff or Raccoon Springs. Two good canoes sat under red shed, inverted shielding kindling for hidden midnight fire.

          Just to attend and caretake such trail head as tumbling falls considered sacred in Lone Wolf’s boy hood home Tuscumbia Alabama. Each morning or at some point each day Lone Wolf came to tumbling falls and prayed. Beavers bustled here, for other than a pregnant Delaware woman and two Shawnee girls rinsing garments near bottom, no humans disturbed them. Beaver trapping strictly forbade, most scouts moved elsewhere.

          Lone Wolf killed lions come to kill beavers. Pelts hung drying around tiny cabin. Smooth rugs stacked, blankets strung, soon Gray Cloud would come take bounty.  Jaguars brought good barter. Wolves more easily trapped with steel spring traps French traders carried. Lone Wolf stretched cats expertly, preserving heads for fastening to rug or totem, skins cured and preserved, innards stretched and dried, binding spears or drag poles, sealing clay jars, best used for bowstring, certain types favored by guitar players, others by drummers. Many samples of each. Gray Cloud and Grandmother would smile.

          Gray Cloud paddled big canoe alone. Near front, on padded knees, Downy day, heavy set, dark curls about cherubic face did the same, little Blue Sky ready to help in back. Rocky Island, rangy blonde athlete from old towns, each towed near empty copies, three paddlers moved three canoes, three more towed behind. Six Canoes. All the long night trimada cut across cape, watching points for orange fire.

          Currents felt now, more rocky shoals, winds directly in the face traveling southwest. Labor indeed, patience tested against wind and choppy surface, current or angle difficult dragging canoes.

          At Ravenden only single snoozer in moonlight might have spied them. Quiet switching sides, almost silent when cruising, not even trickling water from paddles when hunting or hiding.

          Still mountains grew. Deep ravines stretched away, lakes curved off. Occasional camp fire sighted, river narrowed, fishing rigs noticed on limbs. Trespass forbidden by Osage Nation, presence here serious breech of treaty standing fifty years. Wahpeton chief scout in region crucial to Sacred Peace.

          Almost forty tribes represented by one to four men or women or children maintained some sort of camp or cabin. Only a few kept stakes now, in a moon many would come.

      Off spacious main channels, squeezing into canyons, opening into new lakes, tiny cliffs curved and dropped away in endless patterns. Another turn, another, tiny branch seemed a dead end. Last few feet the tongue of lake curved into mountain revealing Falling Water. There stood the water spider stone, there Grandmother stirred cooking pot, there beloved Blue Sky leapt from a boat to scramble up stone steps. Gurgling falls danced. Current murmured and babbled. Red Cloud knew this was home now.

          Red Cloud and Lone Wolf walked long hours, hunting, trapping, gleaning mushroom, vine, or wood for various tasks. Beaver busied; few other animals trusted humans. Rock Creek secluded treasure, occasionally stray birch boat moved, local travelers making for Turkey Creek, all manner of celebration and pagan debauchery among revelers and sun worshippers brought strangers together in steam tent and swimming hole. Over the divide from Otter Creek, on Strawberry system, Turkey Creek wound down past Razorback Ridge and Shiloh Trinity, to West Cliff and beyond, busier artery skirted with stealth and secrecy, that is why Lone Wolf located cabins just so. Across Rock Creek he led Red Cloud, into another canyon, another snaking alley of cane and rock ledge. Far into the ridge, across many beaver dams, tiny long lakes welcomed. At far little beach tiny trail wound smooth and soft. Here a mule pulled two canoes, men walked behind up slope. Ridge crested, mule pulled canoes easier down to tiny flood plain. Dense cane stretched many leagues; Lone wolf pulled mats away, trails opened to them. On racks disguised by arching cane sat one hundred Atlantic Ocean style standard full size poplar canoes.

          “We can make Bono from here in one night. We can take an entire school of children, many women, children, elders, and brave paddlers. We can supply grandmothers with cross bows, collect beaver on the run for food and fur. You must keep mules ready Lone Wolf Fitzpatrick, and the double bit axe you will use to flood the plain. Hopefully our day will never come.”

chapter 3                    WORD