The sergeant called two men to him. When they dismounted and started to walk through the forest looking for a way out, they startled a doe, which turned and fled. The two men followed her.
When they returned, the sergeant informed the captain that they had found a route back to the trail, but they would need to cut some tree limbs so the horses could get through.
The group waited in nervous silence as the dragoons chopped away at the limbs. Finally the sergeant and the captain walked their horses through the opening and beckoned to the group to follow quickly, before another aftershock. They passed single file through the forest and then finally back onto the Nashville Road.
Wherever the road was wide enough, Hannah and Zeb rode side by side. It seemed to reassure Beth, who often looked around Zeb to see if her mother and father were still behind her. Sometimes Zeb or Hannah told the girls stories of their exciting adventures together, and other times they traveled in comfortable silence or made faces at each other to liven up the long journey.
When they reached an open area next to a wide creek, Captain Morrison raised his hand and the convoy pulled in. The group could see smooth, flat pebbles at the bottom of the shallow river, but the water was a little cloudy in places from the periodic tremors. They set up camp.
Captain Morrison informed them that this was a small tributary to the Big Black River. They were near the Choctaw village of Yockanookany.
Zeb smiled, remembering that first day at Yockanookany Village. He met Hannah’s eyes, his smile a little sad. It’ll be hard to leave her at Yowani, he realized, as much as I want to get home. I’m gonna miss her.
The soldiers waded the army horses into the river to wash off the dried green slime and, once again, to check for leeches. Zeb and Hannah joined the soldiers and washed the other horses in the cold river water.
As soon as the horses were taken care of, Zeb returned to the river to bathe. He found the minister there, stripped to his underwear. The two of them sat in the cold water, scrubbing their clothes with lye soap and then trying to get the slime off their legs with sand.
They didn’t talk. The Reverend Lodge hummed to himself and Zeb thought of home. What will it be like, he wondered, to ride down that steep meadow into the farmyard, bringing Grampa home? What will it be like to see Mama again?
December 18, 1811
CHAPTER TWENTY
Yowani
By the late afternoon of the second day after they left the little river near Yockanookany Village, Zeb knew they were near Yowani. The Natchez Road was wider here. A short way down the road he began to see the simple fences built to keep Dr. McAllister’s special cattle with cowpox from wandering away or being poached by outlaws or boaters. They passed the Choctaw Council House where he had met Nashoba for the first time.
Many trees had fallen here, too, but he could see that the Choctaw had been busy cutting and moving those that were in the road. Around the outside of the village, Zeb could see several trees whose main roots had snapped. Some of them had not yet fallen, their upper branches caught in the branches of other trees.
Hannah, with Mary riding behind her, moved up to the head of the convoy. Christmas acted as if he wanted to run. But Zeb knew that it was Hannah who wanted to run. This is the place she thinks of as home. Except for Katie Culpepper, this is where all of her friends are. Captain Morrison smiled and motioned her on.
When she reached the entrance to Yowani Village and the Medical Research Station, the gate was open. Isushi, the old Choctaw who had been Hannah’s guide and mentor, was at the gate. “Aiok panchi!” he called. “Welcome!”
“Isushi!” Hannah shouted, trying to control Christmas. “You were waiting for us! You knew we were coming!”
“We have had braves watching you for the last two days, so you would be safe. The village is happy to see you and your family back among us.”
He pointed through the open gate. “Go now. The Miko and the Alikchi are waiting to greet you.”
Hannah and Mary trotted through the gate with the convoy trailing far behind. It was almost dark. As Zeb moved into the village, he could see the cook fires glowing, and he smelled roasting game and baked yams. He was starved.
The convoy dismounted and stood in front of the Miko and the Alikchi.
“The Miko is the village chief,” Dr. McAllister told the captain, “and the Alikchi is the medicine man and spiritual leader.”
“Aiok Panchi!” the Miko said. “We welcome you all to Yowani. We welcome back our friend, Doctor McAllister, and his family. We have good news for you, Doctor. We still have six cows of the original herd. Our Alikchi tells me that some have cowpox.”
Dr. McAllister took the Miko’s hand in his and thanked him. “I want you to meet Mr. David Lodge, his wife Mary, and their two children. Mr. Lodge is a missionary. He hopes that he and his family may stay here in Yowani.”
The Miko nodded. “Welcome to Yowani,” he said. “For tonight, at least, why don’t you and your family stay in the cabin next to Doctor McAllister? It was built for medical research staff, but there is no one else here now.”
“Thank you, sir,” David Lodge said. “We have a lot to be thankful for.”
“That is true for all of us,” the Miko said.
Dr. McAllister put his hand on Zeb’s shoulder. “I know that it is not necessary to introduce this man whom you call Brave Horse, Isuba Nakni. Just as he is a brother to you, he is now like a son to us.”
“Welcome home, Isuba Nakni.”
Dr. McAllister continued, “I want you to meet his grandfather, Daniel Ryan.”
Zeb’s grampa moved forward. “You have greatly honored me and my family by making my grandson one of yours.”
The Miko said, “We know of you, Mr. Ryan. We witnessed your grandson gentling a horse, Kapucha, and he told us where he had learned to do that. We are happy he was able to find you in Natchez. You are welcome in our village, now and whenever you travel on this trail.”
As the old man stepped back, Dr. McAllister continued, “I would like to present to you Captain Morrison of the Fort Dearborn Dragoons.”
The Miko turned to Captain Morrison. “We have watched you for several days and know that you and your soldiers were guarding our friends. We invite you to stay here with us and participate tomorrow in the Aiok Panchi festivities.”
Captain Morrison saluted the Miko. “It is an honor for me and for my men to meet you, sir. Hannah suspected that your braves were there in the forest,” he said, “but we never saw them.” Then he continued, “I wish we could accept your invitation, sir, but we must be in Nashville before the new year. That is a long trip.”
The Miko nodded. “Whatever you wish, of course. I am sure, however, if you decide to stay, that you will be able to travel that distance easily. We are told that the army is already clearing the road through Chickasaw country. We expect them to get to Choctaw country by the new moon. A festival will give us an opportunity to know each other.”
The captain turned to his sergeant. They conferred quietly for a moment. He then addressed the Miko. “Your information about the road clearing is very welcome indeed. We will stay for the festivities, then. We, too, would like to get to know you better. I will give my men leave tomorrow so they may relax and enjoy their time with your people.”
He looked around the village. “If you will show us where we may put up our tents and graze the horses….”
The Miko motioned with his hand and two mounted nakni appeared. One of the braves was Running Bear. Zeb grinned up at him, remembering the strange horse race that happened that last time he was in Yowani. Running Bear grinned back.
It was like no horse race I had ever seen, Zeb recalled. The horses that the Choctaw nakni and I rode that day had never been ridden before.
The two nakni led the soldiers and Zeb to the edge of a large meadow. Zeb could see goalposts at each end of the field. What will the dragoons think of ishtaboli? This field was not as large as the one at Yockanookany Village, b
ut Zeb was sure there would be plenty of room for the games and the horse racing. He wondered if he would have a chance to race against Running Bear again.
Zeb went back to where the horses were tethered and led the packhorse to the campsite. Because the Lodges were to sleep in a cabin, Zeb and his grampa would use the tent tonight for the first time. He dismounted, pulled the tent off the horse, and stretched it out on the ground. He cut two saplings for tent posts. Once he had the tent up, he crawled inside, unrolled the ground cloth on the dirt floor of the tent, and then backed out.
He saw his grampa and the Alikchi walking and talking as if they had known each other a long time. The Miko was moving from group to group. When he got to Zeb, he said, “Isuba Nakni, do you have everything you need?”
“Yes, sir, thank you, I do. But I wonder, is Nashoba here?”
“No. He and his father are at Yockanookany Village, visiting with the Alikchi there. They should be back early in the morning. His father has not yet recovered from his wounds. They will tell you about it tomorrow.”
He pointed back to the smoke coming from the village cook fires. “The food is there for each of you to take as you wish. It is not much. Save your appetite for tomorrow when we shall have a celebration. Isuba Nakni, you and the others may leave your large horses in this fenced field.” The Miko left Zeb to go and talk with the soldiers.
Zeb was suddenly very hungry and tired. The venison was suspended over the glowing coals, still cooking slowly. Zeb held the meat with a sharp stick and cut off a strip with his knife. He walked back and forth, too impatient to let it cool, eating little pieces and burning his mouth.
He was glad to finally spend a night in the large new tent that Mr. Yadkin had made for him so long ago. He and the others had brought Hannah and her family to Yowani, and now Zeb was starting to feel like he was really going home.
Zeb awoke early the next morning. His grampa was still asleep next to him. This is the coldest morning yet, Zeb thought. He sighed, then dressed and grabbed his coat.
Outside, he looked up at the bleak, bare limbs of the trees against the early morning sky. Winter is coming and we’re goin’ home!
After breakfast at the cook fires, he walked past the Ishtaboli field. Someone had decorated the goalposts with garlands of evergreen.
By late morning, venison and wild pig hung over the cook fires. Zeb’s stomach growled at the wonderful aroma of roasting meat wafting through the village.
The little children, Mary and Beth Lodge among them, played on the ponies at one end of the field. Their screams and laughter reminded Zeb of church picnics back in Franklin.
He watched footraces and wrestling matches and wondered what Lonnie would have thought of them. Zeb sat on the top rail of the fence to watch the games. He kept looking back at the village, hoping to see some sign of Nashoba and his father.
One of the young dragoons, whom Zeb had met the night before, climbed up and sat on the rail next to him. He watched the games with Zeb in silence for a while. Then he said, “Hear they gonna have a horse race.”
Zeb nodded. “They’ll have a horse race,” he said, “like nothin’ you have ever seen. Best to stay out of it.”
“Doubt they’s a race I hain’t seen,” the soldier said. “I wouldn’t mind a-racin’ some. Course, army horses ain’t built fer speed, and mine’s a bit peaked, but I’d race my horse anyway, if’n I could find some feller wanted to race.”
“Maybe some of the other dragoons—”
“Naw, they don’t wanna race. And besides, they don’t got no money to bet. I noticed you always have a little money when we get to the stands.”
Zeb tried to keep from smiling. This soldier is trying to fool me with his Kaintuck accent, and his claim that army horses can’t run fast. Just a short time ago, Zeb thought, I would have been doing the same thing.
The soldier gestured at Christmas tethered to the fence rail. “How come you got that big horse tethered? He got any speed? Somebody said you think he pretty fast. I ain’t seen airy one like that’n afore.”
Zeb shook his head and, playing the same game, said, “Christmas is here for Hannah, if’n she wants him. She’s off someplace with her parents right now. Speed? She’s no faster than you’d expect.”
“What about it? You wanna race?”
Zeb shook his head. “Sorry,” he said. “I’ve got responsibilities. Can’t do it.”
“Yer not afeered a’ racin’ are you?
“Maybe, in a way, I am. Can’t take a chance.”
Zeb looked up at the big horse. Christmas, I hope you didn’t hear that.
If my horse fell, he continued to himself, the way he did last time, I could be badly hurt. Then how would Grampa get all these horses home by himself? What would happen to the farm?
The young soldier shook his head. Probably shocked, Zeb thought, that anyone would admit they’re afraid to race.
Then Zeb heard a shriek. The children at the far end of the field were trying to catch a runaway pony. Clinging to the pony’s back was Mary, her legs stiff, her body flung back, and her fists full of the pony’s mane. As the pony galloped past Zeb and the dragoon, Mary looked at Zeb in terror. Zeb waved to her to bend over and get closer to the horse.
Zeb leaped off the rail, flung the reins over Christmas’ head, and vaulted up on him. Christmas thundered after the runaway Choctaw pony.
The pony slipped and, for a moment, Zeb thought it might fall. If she doesn’t know to jump, Mary could be crushed. The surefooted little animal recovered quickly though, and it started down the other side of the field, gradually slowing from a dead run to an easy canter. Mary threw her body forward. She bent her legs and tightened them around the pony’s flanks, her head close to the horse’s neck.
Zeb cut in front of the goalposts and raced alongside the pony. He reached out and grabbed Mary around the waist, yanked her off the pony, and swung her astride Christmas.
He slowed Christmas and caught his breath. When the big horse finally slowed to a walk, Mary turned and looked up at him. “I wasn’t scared!” she said, still gasping for air.
Zeb smiled. “You like ridin’ fast, do you?”
She nodded. She put her hands out to hold onto the reins.
“Can I ride Christmas sometime?”
Zeb shook his head. “We won’t be here after tomorrow. But I hope to come back someday. By then you’ll be ready to ride anything. You just listen to Hannah and do whatever she tells you. She rides better than just about anybody I know.”
When they got back to the other side of the field, Zeb handed Mary down to her mother. Zeb’s grampa was reassuring and calming the missionary. “She’s goin’ to be an excellent rider, Mr. Lodge. She has a natural gift for ridin’, the way Hannah does.”
Zeb untacked Christmas and let the big horse loose in the pasture with the other horses. He walked back to the rail where the young dragoon was still sitting. Zeb climbed up and sat on the top rail next to him.
The young man looked at him a long while, then said, “Thanks a lot.”
Zeb turned to him. “For what?”
“For not makin’ a fool of me when I wanted to race you.”
Zeb chuckled. “Funny, you seem to have lost your Kaintuck accent.”
“I talk like that so folks I race against think they’re takin’ advantage of me. They think I don’t know nothin’.”
And if you ever try to sell them a horse, Zeb thought, they’ll check his mouth again and again. They won’t trust you.
Zeb jumped off the fence. “I’m going over to the McAllister cabin,” he said, “to see if they have news of Nashoba and his father.”
He reached out and yanked Mary off the pony.
“You ain’t gonna stay for the horse race?”
“Naw.” Zeb smiled. “I a’ready done that oncet.”
He stopped at his tent and picked up his small saddlebag. After unwrapping several layers of oilskin, he pulled out his leather-bound notebook.
He
was about to climb the stairs to knock on the door when he saw Nashoba striding toward him from the Choctaw Council House. He, too, was carrying a book.
Nashoba and Zeb hugged and pounded each other on the back, then stood back and grinned. “I’ll bet you’re anxious to see Hannah and her family,” Zeb said.
“I have already seen them. I asked Dr. McAllister to come to see my father.”
“Will he be able to help?”
“He isn’t sure. My father was wounded with a Muskogee spear. The wound was not deep, but it is now swollen and red. His body is hot. The Alikchi is trying to help. I am hoping that Dr. McAllister might help, too.”
Hannah opened the door. She motioned them in and turned back to walk in ahead of them. She had tears in her eyes.
“Is everything all right?” Zeb asked.
Hannah’s mother pointed to a place on the floor, near the fireplace. “Sit down, Zeb, Nashoba. We’re just talking about how much we will all miss you when you leave tomorrow, Zeb. I can never thank you enough….”
Zeb shook his head. “Please. You don’t need to. I’m not sure I would have made it without Hannah—”
Hannah interrupted. “Please promise to come back, Zeb.”
Nashoba, seated on the floor, leaned back against the log wall. “I, too, hope you will return. I will be attending the Jefferson School next year. I wish you would consider it as well.”
He handed Zeb a sheet of paper. “Jefferson School gave me a list of books to read. I’ve read many of them already. I copied it for you.”
Zeb looked at the list, then shrugged. “I’ve thought a lot about it. I really wish I could get more schooling, but now with the problems at the farm, I doubt I’ll get away for a couple of years.”
Nashoba reached his hand out and offered Zeb the book he was carrying. “These are the writings of John Locke and Jean Jacques Rousseau on the natural rights of man. It’s the book I was reading when you arrived at Yowani Council House. I’ve finished it and want you to have it. It’s on that reading list.”
Natchez Under-the-Hill Page 14