Little Warrior: Boy Patriot of Georgia (Patriot Kids of the American Revolution Series Book 2)

by Geoff Baggett

  “I’m fifteen years old, sir.”

  “Fifteen! Well, then, you’re almost old enough to join our cause. What about it? Are you ready to see some action?”

  “I’ve already seen more action over these past couple of years than I would care to describe, Colonel. But I’m willing to do my part, for sure.”

  The colonel looked curiously at Robert, who simply shook his head and gave the colonel a respectful look that implored, ‘Please change the subject.’

  The colonel looked back along the enormous convoy of refugees. “Quite an interesting lot behind us, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Things have changed quite a bit since that glorious day at Kettle Creek, haven’t they?”

  “Definitely, sir.”

  “Well, things will change once again, Robert. After we get our families to safety we will return and carry on the fight.”

  “Carry on the fight? How?” asked Lewis. “The cause is lost in Georgia. There’s no more government. There are no more regiments or militia.”

  Colonel Clarke shook his head. “The Redcoats may control Georgia right now, but our cause is not lost, young man. All we need is one great victory to turn the tide in the South. And we don’t need a Georgia government to fight. My men never stopped fighting even after Savannah and Augusta fell.

  “We will just be Georgia’s Regiment of Refugees … partisans who live in the wilderness of South Carolina and Georgia and wreak havoc behind enemy lines. Colonel Candler is with us, along with Benjamin Few and several other good officers. We need good men like you, Robert. And you, Lewis. I hope you’ll consider returning with us after we get your family to safety over the mountains.”

  “I’ll certainly consider it, Colonel,” responded Robert. “But Lewis is going to have to wait.”

  “I understand. Well, how about we get this mob across the Savannah, shall we?”

  He trotted ahead on his horse. The trail reached the river about two hundred yards ahead of the Hammock wagon. They soon joined the colonel by the river’s edge.

  Clarke stood tall in his saddle and proclaimed to anyone who would listen but no one in particular, “The water is low here. We shall wade across. Stay close and in formation. Watch out for one another, and we’ll all make it without incident or loss. Now, Patriots of Georgia, follow me!”

  He turned dramatically and trotted into the shallow ford of the Savannah River.

  Robert looked to his left and saw his wife’s head poking out from beneath the canvas of the wagon. She was staring at the colonel, the look on her face betraying the sarcasm in her heart. She looked at Robert and shook her head in disgust. “I don’t see why our very own Moses doesn’t whip out his staff and just part the waters for us.”

  Robert laughed out loud as he led his own horse into the shallow water.

  ***

  The days of laughter were long gone. After seven hard days on the trail the provisions were running very low. Most of the refugees were not as prepared as Robert and his family. At the rate that they were sharing their foodstuffs the Hammocks would also be running out of necessities very soon. The officers pushed the column very hard. They feared that the enemy in pursuit would soon be upon them.

  Their fears were well-founded. General Cornwallis was incensed over the attack upon Augusta. He ordered Major Patrick Ferguson of South Carolina to take his Tory militia and move quickly across the state to cut off Clarke’s column before they reached the mountains and put an end to the Georgia rebellion once and for all.

  The column of Georgia refugees was in mortal danger. Clarke had no knowledge of the forces that were pursuing him, but he sensed that the enemy was on his heels. He pushed the people mercilessly and urged them northward toward the safety that lay beyond the cloud-shrouded peaks of the Appalachian Mountains of North Carolina.

  ***

  “It’s broken clean through,” Frank confirmed. His muffled voice emanated from beneath the wagon that was perched awkwardly in a narrow ditch between two small hills. “The front axle has snapped. There’s no fixing it. Even if we were near town, it would have to be replaced by a blacksmith. A repair would take days.”

  Robert exhaled. “Well, that’s it, then. We’re on foot or on horseback from here on out. It’s a miracle the wagon held out for this long.”

  “With the ground we’ve been covering these past three days, I’d say you’re right, Mr. Robert. But this rig is not going to move another inch. It’s done.”

  Robert turned to Lewis and Robbie. “Boys, unhitch the team from the wagon and throw a blanket over the horses. We’ll rig some simple tethers for them and lead them with our horses. The little ones can ride on them or we can strap on some of our provisions.”

  “There are no more provisions,” snapped Milly. “We used the last of the corn meal last night. All of the dried meat is gone. There’s no rice, no wheat, and no corn. That’s it.”

  “Good! Then we won’t have to worry about hauling all that stuff,” Robert retorted. He was growing weary of his wife’s complaints.

  “Good? Robert, we haven’t had a decent meal for three days, and now there’s nothing at all left to eat! We’ve been moving non-stop for eight days. We need a rest.”

  “Milly, we have to stay with the group. We have no choice.”

  “Why? It’s not like we’re going to lose their trail. After this mob moves through it looks like a herd of bulls has churned up the ground. Besides, we haven’t seen another soul since we crossed the Savannah River.”

  “There are Indians in these woods, Milly. There’s probably some of them in the woods up above us who are watching us right now.”

  She shuddered and stole a quick look into the nearby trees.

  “I didn’t think of that,” she remarked.

  “No, I guess you didn’t.” Robert smiled. “Look, darling, everyone is tired. This column is barely moving, anyway. I’ll go up and talk to Colonel Clarke and see what he says.”

  “Thank you. And I’m sure there are quite a few more wives and mothers in this bunch who will thank you, as well.”

  Robert smiled kindly at his wife. He then turned and spoke to Frank and the other boys. “I’m going to go see if I can convince the officers to take a rest. But, just in case, get everything we need out of that dead wagon and be ready to move when I get back.”

  “Yes, sir,” Frank and Lewis responded.

  Robert climbed slowly into the saddle of his horse. He was thoroughly saddle-sore. His breeches had almost no backside left in them. The cloth had torn and worn away. He also had bleeding blisters on both heels and the sides of his feet. He hated to admit it, but Milly was right. They all needed a rest.

  Robert trotted his horse up to the head of the column. He was surprised to discover along the way that a large number of people had already stopped and were scattered about in the woods resting. Some were even building fires.

  Robert rode toward his militia commander, Colonel William Candler. The colonel waved at Robert and signaled him to join him and a group of men on horseback near the woods.

  “What is going on, Colonel?” Robert inquired.

  “Colonel Clarke has called a rest. We’re going to go ahead and stop now, even though it is only mid-day, and make camp. We’re sending out hunting teams to try and secure some meat. These people need to eat. We can only live off of hickory nuts, paw-paws, and crabapples for so long. People are hungry to the point of mutiny.”

  “How long are we staying?”

  “Right now we’re thinking two nights, unless things change. If you would, Robert, please go back down the column and pass the word along. Tell everyone to stop and set up a good camp site. We want everyone to be spread out just a bit for comfort, but close enough for a sound defense.”

  “Of course, sir. I’ll start working my way back down the line.”

  “Excellent. I or one of my officers will follow up later in the day and check on everyone.”

  “Yes, sir. And thank you, s
ir. My wife is going to be very happy.”

  Colonel Candler grinned. “There will be many happy mothers along this trail tonight … if we can get their children fed. Now get going. Spread the good news.”

  Robert flashed an awkward salute and spun his horse around. As he meandered among the throng of travelers he informed everyone he could about the two-night respite. The good news traveled fast. It almost beat him back to his family’s place among the exiles.

  Robert grew more excited as he neared his wagon. He was anxious to deliver the news to his wife. He jumped off of the horse as if he were a young man again and grabbed his wife in an embrace. He spun her around in a circle, dancing a makeshift celebration in the forest.

  “Heavens be, Robert Hammock! What has gotten into you?”

  “Just a little good news, my love.” He kissed her smartly on the lips and then called over his shoulder, “Boys, cut that canvas off of the wagon! We need us a good tent shelter for the next couple of nights.”

  “Couple of nights?” Milly asked in disbelief.

  “Yes ma’am. Colonel Clarke has called a halt. We are camping here for two nights and foraging for provisions.” He winked at Frank. “Frank, are you ready to try some hunting?”

  “Oh, yes sir!”

  “You and Lewis take to the woods. Stay together, though. We’re mighty close to Cherokee country.”

  “Why can’t I go?” Robbie wailed.

  “Because I need you here to help set up camp, son. You can go tomorrow, though, and Lewis can stay back in camp.”

  “Yes, sir,” Robbie conceded grudgingly.

  “All right, let’s get to work, Hammock family! This is our home for the next two days.”

  ***

  “Shh! Did you hear that?” Frank cocked his head to the right as he listened intently in the direction of the hillside. He and Lewis were seated quietly in a makeshift blind close to a deer trail. About an hour after leaving the camp in search of game they discovered the trail that led down to a partially dry creek. There were two deep pools that still held water and numerous deer tracks leading to both pools. They had already bagged three squirrels and a raccoon, but they decided to hide and see if they might get lucky and see a deer.

  Lewis listened intently. “I don’t hear anything.”

  “I could have sworn that I heard something up the hill.”

  They sat quietly in their well-covered hideout. Frank focused intently on the deer trail and ridge line. Lewis, however, was becoming quite bored. He began to amuse himself by inventing a game of herding ants that were busily entering and exiting a nearby anthill. Suddenly a rather large crashing sound carried down the hillside. Lewis grabbed his rifle and aimed it in the direction of the sound.

  “Now I know you heard that!” whispered Frank.

  “What was it? It sounded huge!”

  Frank shook his head subtly. “I hope it’s a deer. Could be a man. Keep a sharp eye out.”

  They each peered down the barrels of their weapons and watched the line where the dark floor of the forest met the bright sky beyond the ridge. Suddenly a huge shadow appeared over the hill. It was moving directly toward them!

  “Good God, what is that? Is it a buffalo? Or is it a bear?” Lewis hissed, trembling.

  “I can’t tell yet. Be still and quiet. Might be a bear, or an elk. They have elk up here in the hills.”

  “It’s coming this way, whatever it is,” observed Lewis.

  The huge beast continued on a straight line down the hill toward their position. Frank reached forward and gently pulled back the hammer on his musket. It responded with a subtle, hollow click. He was just about to fire his weapon when the animal gave its loud, deep, terrifying call.

  “Moooooo ….”

  Then the rather large brown and white cow wandered up to the spot where they were hiding and hung its head over the top of their blind. The cow licked the top of Frank’s cocked hat.

  Lewis looked incredulously at Frank. “There is no way that just happened.”

  ***

  Dozens of mouths hung open in disbelief when Frank and Lewis emerged from the woods with a cow in tow. Lewis led the animal by the short length of rope that dangled from its neck. It had obviously been tied up at a farm or homestead somewhere nearby but had managed to escape. It seemed genuinely happy to come upon human beings in the woods. Of course, the condemned animal had no idea of the fate that awaited it back at the refugee camp.

  Milly saw them coming from a distance down the trail. She called over her shoulder to her husband. She greeted them with both of her fists planted firmly on her hips. Robert greeted them with a huge smile.

  “Boys, where in heaven’s name did you get that cow? Please tell me you didn’t steal it.”

  “No, ma’am. It just wandered up to us while we were set up on a deer trail about a quarter mile west of here,” Lewis testified.

  She eyed her husband with a dubious look. “So what you’re telling me is that a cow … this cow … just walked up to you in the woods, with rope dangling from its neck, and invited you to haul it back to this encampment?”

  Lewis grinned and replied, “Yes ma’am.”

  Her gaze shifted to Frank.

  “It’s the gospel truth, Miss Milly. We thought it was a buffalo or a bear at first until we heard it bellow. The stupid animal walked right up to the spot where we were hiding as if it knew we would be there. Lewis just grabbed the rope and then we headed on back.”

  “So you didn’t steal that cow?” she confirmed.

  “No ma’am, we found the cow. Or, should I say, she found us,” Frank reassured Milly.

  Robert shook his head and chuckled. “Did you gentlemen happen to get anything else?”

  “A few squirrels and a big coon,” answered Lewis.

  “Well, just go ahead and give those away to whoever will take them. We’ve got beef to prepare! That beast should feed a fair portion of this camp tonight. Robbie, fetch my skinning knife!”

  Robert, Frank, and the boys soon set about the gruesome but necessary task of slaughtering the cow. A crowd gathered quickly. The people were hungry. It appeared that things might get out of control without some military leadership. Once the animal was down and skinned, Robert sent Lewis ahead to fetch one of the officers and inform them of the situation.

  Ten minutes later Colonel Clarke and two of his captains, along with about ten other militiamen, made their way from the head of the group.

  “Squire Lewis tells me that you might need a little help with meat distribution back here at the Hammock butcher shop.” Colonel Clarke was grinning broadly.

  “Yes, sir. The boys stumbled upon a cow running loose in the woods and brought it back to camp. We’d like to keep several pounds of the choice cuts for our family. But after that I don’t want any part of seeing who gets the rest. I’d be mighty grateful if you and your men would distribute the meat.”

  The colonel nodded. “That sounds fair enough. It’s your kill. You gentlemen take your cut and we’ll take care of the rest for you, Robert. This meat won’t feed everyone, but it will help. Two of the lads up ahead each got a deer off to the east, and there’s been a fair bit of small game taken. We should be able to get a reasonable meal for everyone by nightfall.”

  Robert quickly and skillfully removed the portions or meat that he wanted and then turned over the rest to the colonel. Nothing went to waste. The hungry travelers claimed all of the cuts, as well as the organs, brain, intestines, and tongue. Before it was over people even took ownership of the bones, which were boiled into a thin soup. The starving wanderers cracked open the bones and scraped out the marrow to flavor the broth.

  Over and over again, around all of the campfires that night, the story was told of Lewis Hammock and the Negro named Frank who found a cow wandering in the woods. It quickly became a camp legend as less-than-accurate details were added to the tale.

  ***

  Seven days later the starving band of exiles stumbled into the Watauga V
alley. They were welcomed into the arms and homes of unimaginably generous mountain folk. Everything was prepared for their arrival. Their humble hosts fed them, clothed them, and shared their homes with them. It was an oasis of generosity and grace in the midst of a savage war.

  The Hammock family, because it was larger than most of the families in the group, was offered the use of a small warehouse for their shelter. It wasn’t much of a warehouse, really. It was merely a rough, older cabin that had been used for community storage. But it was a dry space and provided adequate protection from the cold mountain air. It was the first week of October, and the nights had taken on a chill.

  As night fell several women stopped by their cabin and left food items for the family. One particularly filthy, but generous, mountain man appeared with two large bear skins and an elk skin. Robert spread the furry hides over the floor as a cushion for his family. They provided a soft, warm barrier against the cold of the earth beneath.

  Milly and Nanye-Hi prepared and fed the family a quick makeshift meal and then everyone collapsed from exhaustion. No one bothered to remove their coats, breeches, or even their weskits. They slept fully clothed. As Robert slipped into unconsciousness he wondered if he would ever see his home in Georgia again.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  MOUNTAIN AMBUSH

  The Georgians gathered in the clearing in the center of the village. There were almost eighty fighting men, fully equipped and ready to mount their horses. They were all saying their final farewells to loved ones and friends. It was a deeply moving time. Though no one would speak about it, many realized that this could be the last time that they might ever see their wives and children.

  Robert enjoyed the attention of his little congregation of Hammock children. He was down on one knee and hugging all of the little ones at once. His eyes caught the concerned stare of his son, Lewis. Robert stood up and walked over to his handsome teenage son.

  “Lewis, I’m counting on you to watch over the family while I’m gone. It’s a lot of responsibility.”