They were the first words he had spoken since Tom and Sal had returned, informing him of Ahni’s condition and her decision not to allow a rescue attempt. They candidly reported the bleak facts, unsullied by any wisecracks from Sal. Guwaya had simply nodded and walked off away, then squatted with his shoulder propped against a tree. He remained that way for over an hour, staring into the depths of the forest. Yonah assured Tom and Sal that Guwaya would let them know how to proceed when he was ready. He bid them to remain silent and patient in the meantime.
“I’m not sure it would be a good idea for you to be seen inside the fort,” said Tom.
Guwaya was adamant. “I may not be able to enter through the gate as you did, but perhaps I can find a way to enter clandestinely. You have said the rear wall is not well reinforced. Maybe I can get in somehow. In any case, I cannot simply accept her refusal second hand. I must hear it from her directly, and have a chance to make an appeal. Furthermore, if she is as ill as you have said, it may be my last opportunity to….” He cast his eyes toward the ground, keeping his face stony in an effort to control a show of emotions.
Yonah, who had been quietly sitting and smoking during Guwaya’s musings, tapped out his pipe and purposely cleared his throat, indicating his intent to speak. “Guwaya, certainly you would want to see your mother when she is in ill health. But for you to enter the fort during daylight, whether through the gate or otherwise, is reckless. You would not be likely to convince Ahni to reconsider her decision by acting rashly. Nightfall will be upon us soon enough; would it not be wise to contact Jason Springwater under cover of darkness first? He could also inform Ahni of your intentions, so that she is not taken unawares in her frail condition.”
Guwaya tugged at his braids, pondering Yonah’s suggestion. “Perhaps it would be better to give her some time to prepare. And Springwater may be helpful finding an obscure weak point in the wall. Yes, I will accept your recommendation, Yonah.”
“In that case,” said Yonah, “let us reposition ourselves closer to the rear of the fort while we have some remaining daylight. The sun is setting quickly.”
The four men made their way around the perimeter of the fort, keeping well hidden from the watchtowers, until they found a spot from which they could see the entire length of the rear wall. There they would wait for enough darkness for Guwaya to make his approach. With little else they could do until then, they talked quietly, Tom and Sal giving Guwaya as good a verbal description of the inside of the fort as they could. Eventually the discussion returned to Ahni.
“I do not discount the seriousness of camp fever at Ahni’s age, yet I feel she may be refusing to escape the fort for fear she will jeopardize our family. I must try to convince her that this is not the case.” Guwaya glanced at Yonah, expecting him to sanction his decision.
To Guwaya’s chagrin, Yonah challenged him instead. “Are you certain that is the case? What of Ahni’s welfare? Would subjecting her to an arduous escape be more for her benefit, or yours? You may feel it is your obligation to return her to your family, but it will not be easy for her. She has lived a long life, most of it in service to her family. She has earned the right to a peaceful passing if that is her choice.”
Guwaya’s eyes momentarily flashed with irritation, and then softened as he considered the truth of Yonah’s words. “I am fortunate you are here to enlighten me. Of course you are right; I must keep in mind what is best for Ahni. Still, I wish to attempt to visit her and assess her condition for myself. At least then I will have the opportunity to say a final farewell if that is what is to be.”
“I would want the same,” said Yonah. “You must do so, however, only if there is minimal risk of your capture. That event would not only be disastrous for you, but for your family and Ahni. Your plan to contact Springwater is sound. Use his knowledge of the fort to get inside if it can be accomplished discretely.”
At that moment their attention was drawn to the sound of a bugle playing taps, indicating the day’s end and ordering lights out for the fort. “It is time,” said Guwaya. Without further words, he stood and began creeping stealthily toward the fort wall. The darkness covered his movements, leaving the remaining three with little more than an occasional glimpse of his silhouette until his shadow reached the wall, where it remained motionless. Guwaya had made contact with someone, hopefully the correct someone who would notify Jason Springwater and not alert the guards. They strained their eyes to watch, but the dim moonlight revealed no more than vague shadows. It was impossible to determine any more about what Guwaya was doing.
“One thing’s got me puzzled,” said Sal, oblivious to the tension. “When we were talking to Ahni, she said that she was going west to meet the others who had gone before her. Did she mean that she expected to recover and be sent to the western territory?”
Yonah shook his head and explained. “To the west lies the Ghost Land, Tsusginai, the place of death. She meant that she expected to die.”
Sal was rarely uncomfortable or at a loss for words. Right now he was both. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked to Tom for help with an appropriate response, but Tom offered none. The three men returned to watching the shadows in silence until Guwaya made his way back to their hiding place.
He reported his conversation. “Jason tells me it is possible to enter the fort unobserved, through a hole some of the men have dug under the wall. He indicated the place to me, and said that I must return in four hours, when the guards will be their least attentive and the patrols are fewer. I can then make my way to the barracks where Ahni is quartered, speak with her, and make my exit before sunrise. If Ahni is willing and able, she could exit the fort through the hole with me.”
“It would be wondrous if she is recovered and you can accomplish her escape. I will pray for that triumph,” Yonah said sincerely, although not without a trace of doubt in his voice. “I suggest we use the hours until then to get some rest. We shall take turns keeping watch while the others sleep. I will take the last watch to be sure and wake you at the proper time.” He marked the position of the moon, showing Tom and Sal the distance it would move as each hour passed.
Tom took the first watch, followed by Sal, then Yonah, who insisted that Guwaya rest undisturbed as he would need all his alertness to enter the fort. They all woke when Yonah alerted Guwaya that the time had come.
“If all goes well, I will return to this place well before sunrise. If Ahni is with me, we can be clear of the fort before the vendors start to arrive.” Guwaya accepted their final words of caution and made his way back to the appointed place in the fort wall, the others watching as before. This time he was even less visible; clouds had formed during the night, dimming the moonlight. He disappeared from view and it was impossible to tell if he had entered the fort.
“I can’t imagine how Ahni would have the strength to come back with Guwaya,” said Tom. “She was extremely weak when we saw her.”
Yonah nodded curtly, then raised his eyebrows and said, “Nevertheless, we should be prepared for her. While we wait Guwaya’s return, let us fashion a travois for her.”
“Fashion a travo-what?” Sal asked.
“A travois is like a v-shaped stretcher,” Tom answered for Yonah. “One end is narrow so it can be dragged by a single person. Do you think a travois will work on such hilly terrain, Yonah?”
“It will be good enough to help her part of the way, depending on her condition, and will be much easier on us to pull rather than carry. We may need to refashion it as a stretcher for part of the way.” Yonah was very doubtful that Ahni would agree to leave, but he would stay positive for Guwaya’s sake. Assembling the travois would also give the two white men something to do while they waited.
“We will need two long green poles of the same length and some strong vines to form a web between them. Tom, if you are familiar with a travois you know what we need. We must be quiet in our work; even though we are far enough from the fort, be cautious that the sound of our labors does not be
come too loud. Sounds can carry far on such a still night, and we do not want to endanger Guwaya by alerting the guards.”
Tom and Sal were able to find two sturdy saplings that had been recently cut, probably left over from the construction of the stockade. They lugged them back to Yonah, who was busily stripping leaves from the vines he had gathered. They were in the process of wrapping the vines around the poles when they were startled by Guwaya’s voice. He had returned much sooner than they expected.
“That will not be necessary,” he said, indicating the travois, his voice very low and somber.
“That was a quick trip, dude,” said Sal. “How is she doing? Wouldn’t she come with you?”
“It was not necessary to enter the fort,” he mumbled.
“Why the heck not?” Sal asked.
Tom and Yonah exchanged an unhappy glance. Tom placed a restraining hand on Sal’s shoulder and shook his head, halting any further questions.
“Springwater informed me that my mother passed away in the night,” Guwaya replied.
“It is a great loss to you, Guwaya. You will suffer, but hers has mercifully ended,” said Yonah. “I am sorry you did not get a chance to speak with her a final time.”
Tom and Sal also offered their condolences. Guwaya made no reply for several moments, and then abruptly said, “We should depart while there is still darkness. My family awaits our return.” Not waiting for a reply, he began a fast-paced walk in the direction of the cave.
The others followed in silence, leaving the unassembled travois behind.
Chapter fifty-one
After Benjamin and Isaac rearranged the wagon, Catherine and Alice prepared a snug niche for Sally to lie behind the seat. There would be room for two on the seat, one to drive the wagon and another to tend Sally. The others would walk alongside.
The preparations for departure were hasty. It was just barely after sunrise when the soldiers began hustling the Indians through the gate, beginning their march to Ross’s Landing. The officers did their best to keep order amidst chaos, not tolerating any deviation from their schedule. While the majority of the soldiers conducted themselves professionally, there were incidents of callousness by some of the lower ranks and mercenaries. For now, the worst behavior was tempered by the belief that justice, as far as the white Georgians were concerned, was finally being carried out. The bulk of the abuse today was limited to shoving and needlessly harsh commands to prod the Cherokees along.
In fact, many of the Cherokee themselves were gratified to be leaving the stench of the crowded stockade behind. The number of captives held in the fort had grown to over five hundred people, with only the bare minimum of facilities for half that number. In those conditions they had become filthy, tattered, unhealthy, and ill-tempered. Even with the long, difficult march ahead, the thought of leaving Fort Wool was liberating.
The Rogers would be among those relieved to be leaving, if not for their unease about subjecting Sally to the journey before she had had a chance to fully recover. Still pale, her color had only just begun to return. She was still too weak to walk or stand on her own. Benjamin did his best to keep his anxiety concealed, smiling as he carried her to the wagon and passed her to Catherine. He reassured her that he would be near, walking next to the wagon if she needed him. His voiced cracked when he saw her respond with a feeble smile. Catherine would take the first turn riding with her, sitting next to Isaac who was driving the wagon.
Benjamin was just about to give Isaac the order to move out when he felt the sudden jolt of a soldier shove him from behind. “Git goin’,” he heard the soldier command. Benjamin scowled, but resisted the urge to retort. Instead, he nodded to Isaac, setting the Rogers family, along with Adam and Alice, into motion as they joined the long procession of people shuffling through the fort’s gate.
Constance had also arrived at the fort early, bringing with her fresh, clean blankets for Sally’s bedding, and some jars of broth that the sick youngster could tolerate better than solid food. She had grudgingly given up trying to persuade Adam and Alice to reconsider their decision. This morning she contented herself with farewells to them and the Cherokees she had come to know. She reminded them all that they would be in her prayers.
The early morning fresh air and surrounding mountain views was uplifting, in spite of the gloomy circumstances. Those who had retained their good health appreciated the openness after having been confined in the stifling fort for many weeks. Billy, who had been downcast the last several days, livened considerably and asked his father’s permission to join a group of his friends. Benjamin agreed, happy to see his son regaining some of his lost vigor. If only Sally would respond in kind, he thought.
The initial gratification of their release from confinement was regrettably short-lived. After only about five miles of the more than fifty mile march, weariness began to set in, especially among the elders, and the monotonous trek lent itself to silent contemplation of the loss of their homelands. Most trudged along in silence.
There had been no rain for several weeks and the climate had been hotter than usual. The trail was dusty and the passing of so many feet raised a cloud of dust, covering all but those in the very front with a layer of fine, red dirt. Many of the smaller creeks had gone dry, creeks that they had intended to use to replenish water supplies. There would be plenty of water when they reached the river at Ross’s Landing, but it would be a long, dry walk getting there.
In fact, Ross’s Landing was merely the beginning of their exodus. The site was part of the Cherokee Nation, a thriving river port that was once known as the “Old French Store.” It had been owned by John Ross, where he operated a trading post, warehouse, wharf, and ferry service. It would now serve as one of two main embarkation points for larger groups of Indians being evicted to the western Indian Territory. The second embarkation point was at the Cherokee Agency near Rattlesnake Springs, Tennessee.
Once they reached Ross’s Landing, the Cherokees would be loaded onto riverboats, where the next leg of their journey would take them southwest via the Tennessee River to the Mississippi, then finally to the Arkansas River and Fort Smith, located at the border of Indian Territory. Captain Martin would only accompany the detachment as far as Ross’s Landing, where he would return to Fort Wool to lead additional groups along the same route. He was to continue this duty until no Cherokee remained in Georgia.
Adam was troubled by his recollection about the timeline of the Trail of Tears. He had read that these first groups, who were led along what became known as the water route, suffered some of the most tragic consequences. Casualties were so high due to sickness caused by the extreme heat and lack of clean drinking water that the removal was postponed until cooler weather. The result of that decision caused weeks of detention at Ross’s Landing in even more crowded conditions. An alternative land route was selected, which meant much greater distances had to be traversed on foot, and the cooler weather quickly turned to freezing temperatures. He would feel no less distress for his friends if they were part of the latter group.
He walked along with Jimmy and Rebecca, more toward the front of the line than the Rogers family. Having been ejected from their home in the manner they were, leaving nearly all of their possessions behind, they had little to carry. He spoke with Jimmy about farming technology, and although Jimmy only half-heartedly participated in the conversation, it served to keep their minds from more dreadful thoughts.
Rebecca seemed to have essentially recovered from her ordeal, or at least she was hiding her discomfort well. Adam presumed this was mostly for Jimmy’s benefit, noticing that she still flinched any time one of the soldiers raised his voice or approached too closely.
By mid-day, the weariness of walking through the clouds of dust began to take its toll. The goal of fifteen miles per day was aggressive considering the conditions and the mountainous terrain, particularly for the elderly and small children. The procession halted frequently, though only for moments as the soldiers would not tole
rate longer delays. Any group pausing for one reason or another would be passed by and badgered by the soldiers until they were underway once again.
Suddenly, an event occurred that caused both Cherokee and soldiers to come to an abrupt halt. A single, tremendous wave of thunder rumbled over them from behind, shaking the earth as it rolled from east to west, as if the land itself was making known its disapproval of the mistreatment of its ancient caretakers. The sky remained clear, the sun bright, with no sign of an approaching storm; just a final resounding grumble of outrage. All stood in silence, looking at the sky until it passed, then once again continued the trek that would lead the Cherokee away from their primordial homeland forever.
The procession moved slowly enough that Catherine, Alice, and Silvey could climb in and out of the wagon as it moved along, taking turns looking after Sally. The women regularly wiped the dirt from Sally’s face to relieve her from the irritation, and moistened a cloth for her to breathe through, trying to prevent the great clouds of dust from congesting her lungs. In spite of their efforts, Sally’s breathing became labored, causing her fits of coughing. Aware of her distress, Benjamin led the wagon to the side of the road, away from the worst of the billowing dirt clouds.
“Move along; no stopping!” one of the soldiers yelled at Benjamin.
“My daughter is ill and cannot breathe in all this dust,” Benjamin said.
“We can’t stop every time someone coughs,” he said tersely. The soldier looked into the wagon at Sally, who was coughing and hacking, trying to catch her breath. He flinched when he saw her pallid face. “Only for a moment,” he conceded. “We must keep going. The dust will be worse further to the rear.”
Another soldier approached him as he was walking away. “What’s the holdup here?”
“They are stopping to get the little girl out of the dust. I told them they could stop only for a moment. She looks pretty poorly.”
“So what? Ya feel sorry for ‘em? One less to deal with, I say. It ain’t like they’re human or anything.”
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