Chapter 11 | SouthernPaddler.com

Chapter 11

Swampy

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Aug 25, 2003
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Southeastern North Carolina
Chapter 11
The Awaking
Rusty had made it back by 1:30 in the morning. Lurker challenged him at his post. Answering correctly, Rusty came in.
"Where's Sir wallace?" he asked.
"He was just here, He'll be back shortly."
"Can't wait till then." And off into camp he went.
Before long he found Wallace over the fire sipping on some drink with Kahuna .
"Sir!" h called.
"Yes?" whispered Wallace.
"I've to report that there is a war party about three miles down the river. I brought in two of their foreward scouts."
"Better get the men up now."
Silently they went about awaking the slumbering campers. Sir wallace took it upon his self to awaken Meriwether.
"Then we need to get on the river now." said Meriwether to Wallace.
"Aye, and to be sure we need to cover more ground, er... water before daylight.

Within an hour everyone was poling their canoes. It was slow going and yet the pace quickened with the thought that a war party was looking for them and not so far away. Some slipped their poles on the rocks, sometimes a murmered curse was heard where a pole got stick inbetween rocks.

It was Oldyaker's voice that cut the dawn's light.
"God dern rocks!" He bellowed. With the tension that early morning, just about everyone started laughing. Meriwether had to grin too. Oldyaker had his pole bent almost double. If he weren't careful he was either going to launch himself off down river or break the pole off at his hands. He worked it out when the canoe came back to it from the currents flow. Looking up sheepishly he gazed at the others. Then he grined also. He had reflected the thoughts of everyone and the tension was relieved in all. Meriwether thought this a good time to pull ashore anyways as the river was now beginning to narrow to the point here any branch that they passed would in all probabilty be the one that fed this river to the point where they could float and pole. After pulling to shore the men gathered around the major.
"Men we have traveld some distance today. We need to travel more. But the river is fading into its head waters and we need to carry out. This place looks as well as any other that we might find up ahead. Prepare to march."
Without a word the men set to. Canoes were un-packed . Now it was time to hike it out of here. Each man had large packs on their backs now. Even camp dogs carried packs of sorts. Some of the men had made the dogs packs for them to be able to carry their own foods with them. They carried four days of rations in case there wasn't time for them to forge on their own. Ten men stayed at the canoes and would wait their turn to carry canoes and other packs when these returned from the portage.
"Goddamn portage!" Cried Jack. "If I live this day , may it be the last portage I see!"
"Carefull what you wish for ," Chuck said," You may get it! And only death will keep ya from the next one.!"
Jack didn't say another word. But you could tell he wasn't pleased with this at all.

A runner came up to Sir Wallace and reported in front of Meriwether also that the war party had broken off the trail. Probably because of this area but more probable that they found the two left along the trail where Rusty had preformed a lobodomy on their heads. Wallence sent two more to stay behind the group just to be sure. The foreword scout, Bear Ridge, was sent on ahead. They'd give him a good hour head start to scout ahead. He'd leave "messages" along the way. These might be in any form along the trail. Bent bushes, small stones stacked or placed in a particular fashion. Some here knew what they read. But even the novice knew that no message or sign ment trouble. The scout may have turned onto bad times.

The portage turned out not to be so far after all. Meriwether's information had been correct so far. The small map he had in his coat pocket had lead them this far. That and what was in his head. No man were to rob him of this trip nor its rewards. But all was OK as long as what he was told and this map kept being correct. But too, it wouldn't be that long before he'd run out of this map.
The men placed their loads down and immediately went back to gather the canoes and packs left behind. It was early afternoon and the woods here looked beautiful to the eye. Bird calls echoed through the forest. A moose was seen walking out of the water across the other side of the putin. Meriwether thought to stay here tonight and start the paddling in the morning after a well deserved rest. When this was announced the men let out low relief sigh.
Jack began pulling out his favorite skillet. Something he had made in St Louie out of iron. The handle was a mere five inches long. The pan had angles on its three sides. Strange to other's reconing, but Burch Bark was happy with its way it made apple brown bettys. Chuck pulled out some sourdough bread and comenced heating it up in his iron pan. Kahuna had four large skillets fring some meats and in one large pot, some grain was boiling in rolling water. The camp fires had already started to fill the air with smoke and smells.

Commandor was the first in the second group to wind the corner carring his metal canoe. Sweat was running down his deerskin shirt but a grin was on his face when he saw that camp was being set up. The others came in. Camp was low keyed that night with many picking their teeth and singing some of their favorite tunes from back east. Guards were posted again with instructions to relay warnings by hatchets. The well aimed and thrown hatchet into a central tree would mean trouble approaching and all were to be ready to come up fighting. The party knew where they were to report to when the time came to fight. Yet with this on each man's head, they all slipped into a heavy slumber that night.

Swampy