Natchez Under-the-Hill

by Stan Applegate

  They rode the rest of the way home in silence. Zeb had to keep reminding himself to look like a tired man on a sad little cob. Dancey Moore and his horse wranglers would still be looking for a tall, shaggy-haired boy on a big, proud horse.

  About a week later, Mr. Culpepper and Katie were seated at the breakfast table when Zeb walked in. Mr. Culpepper looked up. “Mornin’, Zeb. What are your plans for today?”

  Zeb sat down at the table. Everything smelled like home. “May I borrow Maggie again?” he asked. “I’d like to ride her and lead Kapucha into Natchez. I hafta pick up the tent, the new clothes I had made, and some supplies for the trip.”

  Mr. Culpepper poured some coffee in his cup. “Why don’t you take the wagon?” he said. “You can manage two horses, can’t you?”

  “Oh, yes, sir. The wagon would be fine. I’ll use our new draft horses. It’ll give me a chance to get to know them.”

  Katie interrupted. “If Zeb is going into Natchez today with the wagon, may I go with him? The shoemaker should have my boots ready by now.”

  “That’s fine with me if it’s all right with you, Zeb.”

  “No problem at all,” Zeb said. “Hannah and Mrs. McAllister are plannin’ to ride in with me. I’m sure they’ll find the wagon more comfortable.”

  “Hannah’s going in again?” Katie asked.

  “Her mama wants the two of them to pick out all the fabric for her dresses so the seamstress can get started.”

  Zeb hitched up two of his grampa’s new draft horses to the big wagon. Mr. Culpepper helped him put some heavy planks across to serve as seats.

  Zeb and Katie climbed up on the front bench and drove to the McAllister house. When he stopped for Hannah and her mother, Katie moved back to sit with Hannah. Zeb told them proudly that since the McAllisters had agreed to let Lonnie Champ, his partner, stay at their house, he might be picking up Lonnie today. He hadn’t told anyone but Hannah and his grandfather about the press gang. He planned to talk with Captain Morrison whenever he reappeared at the Culpepper farm.

  Zeb busied himself with the pleasure of getting to know the beautiful big draft horses. Behind him, he could hear the murmur of voices and the occasional laughter.

  “Can you imagine me in dresses, Katie?” Hannah asked. “Dresses down to my ankles, ankle shoes with bows, straw hats: one for weekdays and one for Sunday.” She mimicked Miss Phillipa’s voice. “‘The Sunday hat will have a ribbon around the crown which will fall gracefully down your back.’” The two girls collapsed with laughter.

  He smiled. How wonderful it is, he thought, that Hannah is able to laugh. It’s almost as if she’s forgotten the Mason gang and what they did to her….

  He left the three of them at Foley’s. “I’ll see you right here in about two hours!” he shouted over his shoulder as he drove the team away.

  When he got to the sail maker’s shop, Mr. Yadkin had the tent ready, coated with beeswax and turpentine. It was now the color of butternuts. He and Mr. Yadkin unfolded and set it up outside, each one holding a tent pole. The strong odor of turpentine burned his eyes and his nose. “How do you stand it?” Zeb croaked.

  “You get used to it. That stink’ll be gone in a couple of months, maybe sooner, if you leave it out day and night, rain or shine.”

  Zeb looked at the tent and smiled. It was just what he wanted. He paid Mr. Yadkin the balance of the bill and loaded the tent, folded once again, up into the back of the wagon. He turned to shake Mr. Yadkin’s hand.

  “Just a minute, Zeb,” the sail maker said. “Lonnie Champ tells me that you may have something for him.”

  “I do. I need to find a way to contact him. Dr. McAllister has agreed to let Mr. Champ stay at the McAllister place for now. Then he can go back up the trail with us to wherever he came from.”

  Mr. Yadkin smiled. “You really have become his partner, haven’t you? He doesn’t want you to go near the tavern. Dancey Moore has his men out looking for you.”

  Mr. Yadkin called over one of the street boys and gave him a message for Lonnie Champ. The boy returned in minutes with Champ by his side, and the sail maker gave the boy a coin.

  “It’d be best if you left for Natchez as soon as possible, Zeb,” Yadkin said. “And I’ve got one last thing for you.” He went back into the shop and reappeared with a small shovel. “This is a Spanish army shovel. I’ve had it a long time, but I doubt I’ll ever use it. I want you to have it for your trip north. You’ll need it to make a trench around your new tent.”

  “Thank you, sir. I really appreciate it.”

  Lonnie Champ climbed up in the wagon and sat with Zeb on the driver’s bench. Zeb told him all about the arrangements he had made with Dr. McAllister. He turned the team onto the street and clucked them into a slow trot back up Silver Street.

  Zeb loved the feeling of controlling so much power. These animals are so strong. Just a gentle movement of the reins and they do whatever I want.

  Lonnie Champ grinned at him. “You really enjoy drivin’ this team, dontcha?”

  Zeb just grinned in reply.

  A beautiful closed carriage passed Zeb and Lonnie going the opposite direction, and Zeb noted that each of the doors had glass windows. The carriage wood was dark with a light-colored inlay on the door, like a family crest.

  Lonnie Champ dipped his head as if there were royalty inside the carriage. “Dancey Moore says that they’s only two fine carriages in Natchez, and that’s one of ‘em. They was left here by the Spanish, and everybody wants one of ‘em.”

  The white man driving the carriage snaked a long whip out and the pair of horses picked up their gait. They were big horses, more suitable for pulling heavy loads or a plow, in Zeb’s opinion.

  Zeb frowned, thinking. But in a moment he and Lonnie were at Foley’s, and Zeb pulled the horses up in front. He smiled down at Mrs. McAllister and the girls. “This is my partner, Lonnie Champ. He’s the one who saved me from the sergeant. He’s the person I’ve been tellin’ you about.”

  No one responded. Katie Culpepper climbed up into the wagon without saying a word to Zeb. Hannah’s mother was next, her mouth set in a grim, straight line.

  Hannah climbed up last. She watched the fancy carriage as it rounded the corner at the far end of the street, and when she turned back to look up at Zeb, her face was pale.

  As Zeb drove, he could hear no more than a low, angry murmur from the passengers behind him. It was nothing like the laughter and high spirits on the way into town. What’s the matter? he wondered. Are they mad I picked up Lonnie? He must feel like he’s not wanted.

  Finally, Hannah’s mother raised her voice. “Hannah, I insist you tell me what happened. Why are you so frightened?”

  Zeb halted the horses and looked over his shoulder. Hannah sat with her head down, her hands wrapped tightly around her knees. “I can’t talk about it,” she whispered.

  Her mother took her by the shoulders. “Hannah,” she said angrily. “Something has frightened you. You must tell me what happened in there.”

  “It was Elizabeth!” Hannah blurted out. “That woman with all the fancy clothes, with the closed carriage and the driver! That was Elizabeth, one of the women in the Mason gang.” She sobbed.

  Hannah’s mother shook her head. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure,” Hannah said, wiping her hand across her eyes. “When you were talking to Mr. Foley, I wandered over to the other side of the store….”

  She ran her fingers through her hair. “She was over there. When I realized who she was, I turned to run. She grabbed my arm and yanked me close to her.”

  “She grabbed my arm and yanked me close to her.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She said … she said if I ever told anybody who she was, the gang would find me and skin me alive!”

  Hannah looked up at her mother. “Mama,” she said, “she can find us. She said there aren’t likely to be many McAllisters in Washington.”

  “I can’t believe those outlaws are he
re in Natchez, threatening you!” Hannah’s mother turned to Zeb. “Turn around! Turn around now! We’ve got to go see the constable. Hurry!”

  “Oh, Mama! Please don’t do anything! If the constable starts looking for ‘em, they’ll know I told, and they’ll surely come and find me. That man driving the carriage was Noah, the head of the gang. Elizabeth is mean, but the men are much worse.”

  Hannah’s mother pulled her close. “Oh, Hannah. I had hoped that was all behind you, that you would be able to forget….”

  Hannah shook her head. “I’ll never forget.”

  Lonnie Champ slid closer to Zeb and said in a low voice, “You keep your eyes on the road in front of us. I’ll watch the back.” He climbed from the driver’s bench and sat next to Katie.

  “Mama, I’m so afraid!” Hannah cried, and her mother hugged her tighter. “Why did they hafta come here?”

  “I wonder where she got that carriage and those fine clothes,” Katie said.

  “They had a lot of money stored all along the trail.”

  Mrs. McAllister pulled Hannah against her and rocked her. “And now they’re in Natchez with all that money,” she said. “And they’ve got to find a way to keep you quiet.”

  Lonnie leaned forward. “If I kin help in any way, ma’am….”

  “You can,” she said. “Now that you’ll be staying with us, you’ll be able to give Hannah a little more protection. Zeb can’t be with her all the time.”

  “I’ll look out fer her, Mrs. McAllister. You kin count on it.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Hannah

  November 28, 1811

  It was late November when Captain Morrison and the Mounted Light Dragoon patrol moved onto the back forty acres of the Culpepper farm. There were eleven of them in all: Captain Morrison, Sergeant Douglas, and nine men.

  The men put up tents in a neat row alongside the stream running through the back of the property. They dug a deep hole a good distance downstream from the campsite, for a privy. They dug a shallow hole for the cooking pit in the center of the camp, and they designated an upstream part of the creek for drinking water and a downstream part for bathing and washing clothes.

  Captain Morrison’s tent looked a lot like Zeb’s: about four feet high at the peak, the roof sloping outward toward two one-foot sidewalls. Almost a month had passed since Zeb had brought his tent back to the Culpepper farm, and the turpentine odor had already faded away. He practiced taking it down and putting it up over and over again. It usually took two men to put up a tent quickly, but he couldn’t count on his grampa’s being able to help him. He wanted to be able to do it himself, and he didn’t want to look like a complete fool in front of the dragoons.

  One afternoon a few days later, Zeb was in the corral working with Kapucha. Since he had loaned Christmas to Lonnie Champ so he would have a big horse to ride, Zeb had worked with Kapucha every day, getting him to accept the bit and to respond to leg signals. The dark gray horse was smart and willing. He was as stocky as Christmas but almost two hands shorter.

  Zeb looked up to see Hannah and Dr. McAllister turning off the road and into the stable yard. Dr. McAllister looks much more alive lately than he did when I first met him, Zeb thought.

  Lonnie Champ followed them on Christmas, a coiled bullwhip hanging from a strap on one side of the saddle. He kept looking from one side of the road to the other, up the road, and then behind him. Even when they were on the Culpepper property, Lonnie Champ didn’t relax his vigil. He stayed at the gate to the Culpepper carriageway.

  He’s taking the job of looking after Hannah very seriously, Zeb thought. But what could happen to her here? He sighed. It wasn’t so long ago that I was protecting her—and she was protecting me.

  Hannah was riding one of the horses Mr. Culpepper had loaned her. She rode Suba only in the Culpepper pastures.

  “Morning,” Zeb said as Dr. McAllister and Hannah approached. “You haven’t been ridin’ over here with me for a couple of days, Hannah. You all right?”

  “I’ll tell you all about it,” she said quietly.

  “Morning, Zeb. Ah, good, there’s your grandfather,” Dr. McAllister said, waving to Zeb’s grampa on the porch.

  “He’s been walkin’ around a lot, tryin’ to get some exercise,” Zeb said. “But he’s sure gettin’ impatient to take his arm out of that sling.”

  Dr. McAllister turned back to Zeb. “I’ll go take care of that now. Then I want to see the captain.”

  Dr. McAllister turned to Hannah. “You may tell Zeb and Katie about our decision. I’ll be a while.” He dismounted, tethered his horse, and crossed the stable yard to the porch.

  Hannah and Zeb dismounted and led the horses to the barn.

  “We’re all going back to Yowani.” Hannah sighed, looking down at her boots.

  “Really? Hannah, that’s great news! We’ll be traveling together at least that far.”

  “It isn’t all great news, Zeb. I love Yowani, but I love it here, too. I love being with Katie on this farm and being able to see Natchez when I feel like it. But I hafta go. It isn’t safe for me here now.”

  “What made you change your mind?”

  “We’ve told Captain Morrison about the outlaws and where they live,” she said. “He told Mama that unless we go back to Yowani, if there’s even one of the gang members free, I’ll be in danger. I’m the only one who can identify ‘em.”

  “What’ll the captain do?”

  “He’s waiting until he’s sure that they’re all in Natchez to arrest ‘em.”

  That afternoon Captain Morrison, accompanied by Sergeant Douglas, rode up over the hill from the dragoon encampment and down into the farmyard. He had asked Hannah and her parents, Zeb and his grampa, Katie and Mr. Culpepper, and Walter to meet with him there. He was going to let them know how he planned to deal with the outlaw gang.

  “I want to thank you, Walter,” Captain Morrison said, “for all your help. It really paid off to have you talk with servants to find out if the outlaws had other houses in Natchez. We’ll be watching each one.”

  He turned to the group. “We’ll strike tomorrow night. The place will be surrounded.”

  “Oh, sir!” Hannah cried. “Don’t forget, three babies are with ‘em.”

  “I know. That’s what is going to make this difficult.”

  Everyone was edgy, but they tried to busy themselves with chores. At about four in the afternoon, the dragoon patrol headed toward Natchez: ten men double file, with Captain Morrison in the lead. They wore full battle dress.

  It was well after the evening meal when they returned. The men were grim-faced, stern, and angry-looking. Captain Morrison kept slapping his quirt against his leg.

  Captain Morrison told the sergeant to take the men back to the encampment. He asked the Culpeppers, McAllisters, Zeb and his grampa, and Walter to come up onto the back porch of the farmhouse.

  When they were settled he said, “I’m afraid that we were outwitted.”

  “Oh, no!” Hannah cried. “They got away?”

  “We were able to arrest four women and six men. But when we got there, Elizabeth and Noah were long gone.”

  Hannah sagged against her mother. “Oh, Mama! Elizabeth is terrible. She …” Hannah looked at the pain in her mother’s face. “Never mind,” she said. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “What happened, Captain Morrison?” Cracker Ryan asked.

  “It is clear from a search of the houses that the gang had been planning to leave for some time. They probably decided to go as soon as they saw Hannah, because they knew she could identify them.”

  “So? …” Zeb’s grampa started.

  “The two who got away had double-crossed the other outlaws, too. We found a large pile of lead shot and rifle balls in a corner of a shed.”

  “They were heavily armed?” Zeb asked.

  “No. We think they emptied the shot boxes and used them to carry the fortune in gold coins they had stolen. Filled with gold coins, each b
ox would probably weigh about the same as a box of lead shot. They must have moved those boxes of gold down to the docks long before we got there and arranged with a boat to take the two of them to New Orleans.”

  “How do you know all of this?” Cracker Ryan asked.

  “The men we caught told us. They are furious. They know they were left to be arrested so Elizabeth and Noah could have all the money.”

  Captain Morrison turned to Hannah. “We plan to grant these women immunity if they testify against the men. We have no real way of proving where the money came from.”

  “Those women didn’t travel with the gang voluntarily, Captain,” Hannah said, “except Elizabeth. The other three were taken by force the way I was. Two of ’em tried to run away, but their babies’ crying gave them away in the woods. They were easy to find, and Elizabeth whipped ’em somethin’ awful.”

  Hannah took a deep breath and continued. “Trudy, the youngest one, ran away when we got near her hometown. She took some of the gold and just disappeared. But the outlaws didn’t seem to be worried. We just camped there in the woods for about ten days. One day she rode back into the camp with a horse and a donkey loaded down with packages: food and clothes and gunpowder and shot. She said she just went to get some provisions. She told the women later that when she got home, her family wouldn’t take her in. She had no place to go, so she came back.

  “Noah said it was a lesson to all of us. ‘If you run away,’ he said, ‘your families won’t take you back, and you’ll probably die in the forest.’ After that, no one tried to leave.”

  She turned to Zeb. “Now you know why I was so scared when we stood in my backyard waiting for someone to come to the door.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Lonnie Champ

  December 2, 1811