The Legend of Indian Stream

by Steven Landry

  “Well that’s an easily solved problem,” Dwight replied. “Why don’t you put up a UAV to track that wagon train? We’ll deal with it once we’re in Kansas. In the meantime, we need to get everyone fed, then prepare for tonight’s adventures.”

  Jake had no idea what a UAV was, but was more interested in the night’s adventure. “What’s happening tonight?”

  “We’re gonna pay a little visit to Mr. Hutchins’ place,” Dwight answered. “You don’t have to participate if you don’t want to. Anyway, we also need to discuss tomorrow’s schedule at dinner.”

  Later that evening, after Jake had confirmed that Mr. Hutchins and his three overseers were celebrating at the saloon, eight incendiary rockets were fired from two M203 FLASH rocket launchers into Hutchins’ facility on Whoombly Road. The big house, the slave pen, the barn, and the bunkhouse all burned to the ground.

  25 - WORTHINGTON

  Washington, DC, Monday, October 9, 1854

  Harold Worthington IV sat in a waiting room on the second floor of the White House. President Franklin Pierce had summoned Worthington and his boss, George Sharpe, to provide an update on the situation in the Republic. A New Hampshire native and fierce opponent of the abolitionist movement, the President had expressed a keen interest in events in the Republic since taking office, requesting quarterly updates from Sharpe’s staff. After a short wait, an aide ushered them into the Yellow Oval Room, President Pierce’s private library.

  “Good morning, Mr. President,” both men said as they entered the ornate room.

  “Good morning gentlemen,” the President answered. “Please have a seat. Now tell me what’s happening up in the Republic of Indian Stream. Any chance they’ll be rejoining the Union and the Great State of New Hampshire?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Worthington answered. “If anything, passage of the Kansas-Nebraska Act has pushed them further away. They continue to admit escaped slaves. I personally saw the ISRM execute six men not long ago for nothing more than trying to enforce the Fugitive Slave Act.”

  “That’s most disturbing,” the President said. “You saw this yourself?”

  “Yes, sir,” Worthington answered.

  “To be fair, Mr. President, the men had entered the Republic illegally, and were well over the border when they tried to apprehend the fugitives,” Sharpe said. Worthington wished he hadn’t included that detail in his report.

  ‘Regardless, the killing of six men without trial is outrageous,” the President replied. “Perhaps we should consider a punitive expedition.”

  “Mr. President, I think that would be disastrous,” Sharpe said. “Everything we have learned about the ISRM tells us that their weapons are much more accurate and deadly than ours. Remember, just one company of their militia destroyed two full regiments of British Regulars. They’ve expanded to an Infantry regiment and a Dragoon regiment since the Battle of Third Connecticut Lake.”

  “And they have machines that fly,” Worthington added.

  “I read your report,” Pierce said. “Almost too hard to believe. I wouldn’t believe it if that Frenchman wasn’t flying balloons around Paris.”

  “I’ve not seen any weapons mounted on the aircraft,” Worthington said. “At least none I recognize, but the reconnaissance advantage alone could be decisive in a battle.”

  “And bear in mind that we have no sizable maneuver units anywhere in New England,” Sharpe said. “The closest thing to an organized force in the area is the Corps of Cadets at West Point.”

  “What about the New Hampshire militia?” the President asked.

  Worthington snorted, then recovered himself. “Sorry sir, I didn’t intend to demean your home state’s men, but they would be slaughtered.”

  “Are you telling me the United States Army couldn’t defeat them?” the President asked.

  “Sir, I’m telling you that it might take the whole Army, and even then it would be a near thing,” Sharpe replied. “And most of the Army is out west battling the Indians. Moving a significant force east would be reported by the Republic’s spies and their aircraft long before they crossed the Hudson River. We would lose the element of surprise, fighting an entrenched enemy that can both out-gun and out-maneuver us.”

  President Pierce frowned. “I suppose we could impose a trade embargo, but since we import much more stuff from the Republic than we export to them, we only hurt ourselves.”

  “Yes, sir. And telling the public that we have an eyewitness to the massacre would expose Harold’s position as one of our spies.”

  “Okay, we’ll put that aside for now,” the President said. “Tell me what else is happening up there.”

  26 - ROGER

  Landing Barge: a shallow-draft, self-propelled river barge. The cargo area is forty feet by twenty feet. Cargo payload capacity is seventy-five tons, loaded and unloaded via a ramp at the forward end. The barges are assembled from four air-transportable modules, (propulsion module, two cargo modules, and one ramp module). Glossary, An Illustrated History of the Republic, Helen O’Shea, Ed.

  Kansas Territory, USA, Tuesday, October 10, 1854

  Roger Volant’s previous job was first mate on a riverboat. He had spent most of his life on the water. Consequently, he wasn’t the most confident equestrian, but he managed to keep up with Dwight and the rest of the group as they made their way to the Leavenworth Ford. He had some trouble coaxing Jake’s horse Millie across, but they arrived safely on the opposite shore. The party turned north and followed the river for the rest of the morning.

  They stopped for lunch once they were out of sight of Fort Leavenworth, and ate an excellent lunch Mrs. Fielding had packed for them. He munched on his ham and cheese sandwich, appreciating how well Mr. Carver fed his employees. He wondered whether the good food would continue once they were out on the prairie.

  After lunch, Dwight gathered everyone for weapons training. They spent the next two hours training on the wondrous M416 assault rifle.

  Once Dwight seemed satisfied that they were all at least minimally proficient with their weapons, the group mounted up and continued upriver.

  Just before sunset, they rode over a low rise and Roger saw a small inlet cut into the western shore of the river. Six barges were moored side-by-side in the inlet. Sunlight glinted off the barges, which were constructed like nothing Roger had ever seen before. A smaller raft floated next to the nearest barge. There were also two enclosed wagons parked on shore near the barges. He squinted and saw that a group of Indians milled around on the shore near the wagons. Alarmed, he was about to shout a warning, when Dwight called out to the natives.

  “Óki, Liam.” Roger didn’t understand Dwight’s words, but took it to be a greeting.

  “Óki, Dwight.” A huge native, with the bearing of a man in charge, returned Dwight’s greeting. The two men continued to converse in the Indian’s language as the caravan rode up to the edge of the inlet.

  To Roger’s relief, the Indians – he counted eighteen of them, all armed with rifles, similar if not identical to the M416 – began to pack up their camp. Within minutes, the natives all boarded canoes and paddled out into the river.

  “Ókki, nitáakahkayi,” the large Indian called as they left.

  “Ókki,” Dwight replied, then turned to his employees. “We’ll be taking these barges and the wagons upriver. I’ll tell you all about them after dinner.”

  A few minutes later, the Indians disappeared upstream, and Roger turned his gaze back to the barges. I guess that’s why Dwight needed six river pilots. This should be interesting.

  Dwight directed everyone to tend to the animals and set up camp on the riverbank. Roger unsaddled Millie, rubbed her down, checked her hooves, and hobbled her before giving her a feedbag. He did the same for the ornery mule he had been leading. He managed to avoid getting bit or kicked, then turned to his own comforts. He helped Harlan Wasser set up one of the amazing little dome tents they had all trained on in Mrs. Fielding’s backyard, rolled out his sleeping pad and s
leeping bag, and made the tent his home for the night.

  Roger noticed that Dwight had completed all the same tasks for his horse and the cow, and had begun to cook dinner on one of the camp stoves they had also trained on at Mrs. Fielding’s.

  “Anything I can do to help?” he asked as he wandered over to where Dwight was working on the meal.

  “Sure thing,” Dwight replied. “You can cut up some peppers for the stew. They’re in that coolah over there.” He indicated yet another of the marvels the Carver’s had introduced him to in his short time with the outfit. “What language were you speaking,” Roger asked as he cut up the peppers and dropped them in the stewpot on the camp stove.

  “Siksika, the Blackfoot language,” Dwight replied. “Jennifer and I picked it up when we were scouting the area.”

  “Blackfoot? They’re a long way from home,” Big Bob Johnson joined them as Dwight answered Roger’s question.

  “Farther than you think,” Dwight said. He added some seasoning to the stew. “That should do it. Dinnah should be ready in about ten minutes. How about gathering the others?”

  * * *

  Roger awoke the next morning to the smell of frying bacon, feeling relaxed and refreshed. He dressed and, after checking for spiders, snakes, and scorpions, pulled on his boots and crawled out of the little tent. He would be going back down river with Dwight to Kansas City, to get the rest of the outfit. Dwight explained that everyone else would remain to guard the barges and care for the animals while they were gone. Big Bob Johnson would be in charge.

  Dwight was in a hurry to get moving. He led Roger over to the river’s edge where the smaller raft floated. Roger was amazed to see that the raft was apparently made entirely of metal, although not one he recognized.

  “Aluminum,” Dwight explained. “It’s very light but very strong. This is called a pontoon boat. The deck is thirty-six feet by twelve feet. Those big cylinders under the deck are filled with air and will keep us afloat as long as they aren’t punctured. Where I come from, these are used as party boats, loaded up with people for a day out on the river or lake. There was usually a lot of liquor involved.” Dwight had Roger loose the mooring line and they were off downriver. During the trip Dwight showed Roger how to control the boat’s engine throttle and how to steer the craft. He was damn near as competent as Dwight by the time they arrived at the Kansas City docks.

  Roger maneuvered the boat up to the wharf, and Dwight tied off the mooring lines. Jake Carlton and Jennifer Carver were already leading the rest of the new employees down to the dock. The boat easily accommodated the fifty-five new arrivals. In addition to Jennifer and Jake, there were fifteen of the new white employees, including four women, plus the thirty-eight freed slaves, twenty men and eighteen women.

  Dwight got everyone settled, and with Jake’s help, he cast off the mooring lines. He gave Roger the word to pull away from the dock and head back to the campsite.

  Once the barge was moving steadily upriver, Jake asked Roger about Millie. Roger told him Millie was fine. Then Jake asked him about the pontoon boat.

  “This is nothing – wait until you see the big rafts!” Roger exclaimed.

  “I heard about them,” Jake replied. “Apparently they’re supposed to be big enough to carry all of us, the cow, mules, and horses, and supplies for a year.”

  “And then some,” Roger said. “In all my years on the river, I ain’t never seen nothing like ‘em.”

  27 - JENNIFER

  Kansas Territory, USA, Tuesday, October 10, 1854

  Jennifer, Roger, and Dwight each took turns at the wheel as the pontoon boat slowly pushed its way upriver. They finally came within sight of the riverside campsite at dusk.

  “Wow,” Jake said when he caught sight of the landing barges. “I expected them to be big, but not this big. How did they get here?”

  “Came up river from New Orleans,” Jennifer lied. She couldn’t tell Jake that the barges actually arrived in pieces, carried by heavy lift helicopters from the Republic, along with a crew to assemble them. The supplies piled high on the barges also arrived by air. Nor could she tell Roger that the natives that guarded the barges prior to his arrival were actually Spec Ops soldiers.

  “Each barge is carrying two forty-foot by eight-foot by eight-foot cargo containers and four twenty-foot by eight-foot by eight-foot cargo containers,” she said. “Each container holds about five tons of equipment and supplies. Some of the containers have refrigeration units attached to keep the contents cold or frozen. Parked in-between the containers are several of the vehicles we told you about, including a rough-terrain container handler and a rough-terrain forklift. One of the barges has room for the two Light Tactical Vehicles, or LTVs, parked over there,” she pointed toward the two vehicles standing on the shore. “I presume we’re going to use them to retrieve Ruby’s children.

  “Each barge has three sleeping modules,” she continued. “On the lead barge, those are spacious rooms, one each for Dad, you and me. On the others, they’re set up for four persons each.”

  The previous morning she and Jake had spent hours working out how to assign the employees into teams that would live and work together. Four-person teams were ideal because each of the living modules they would be occupying had four beds and a bathroom area. Dwight had left explicit instructions that the teams were to be racially mixed. He wanted people to learn to get along as quickly as possible, and thought the best way to do that was to make them dependent on one another.

  They settled on eight all-male teams of two white men and two black men each, plus two teams consisting of two married black couples each. There were also four teams of three black women and one white woman. In addition to Jennifer, Dwight and Jake, that left two black women, Maggie and Caroline, Hutchins’ former house slaves. Jennifer would take them on her team. Jake thought he and Jennifer made a pretty good team by themselves, but hadn’t yet said anything to her. He silently cursed his shyness.

  Once the pontoon boat pulled as close to shore as possible, Jake threw a line to Big Bob Johnson, who tied it off to a nearby tree stump. Roger lowered a ramp from the boat’s deck down to the shallow water. Everyone got their feet wet as they scrambled ashore.

  After they disembarked, Dwight took each of the now ex-slaves aside and provided them with the papers setting them free. He asked each one whether they wanted to head off on their own or join him on the journey to the ranch. Not surprisingly, all of the former slaves agreed to stay on.

  Jake gathered everyone around and announced the fifteen teams. There was some grumbling, specifically from a couple of the white men, but stern words from Dwight quieted everyone down. Jake assigned each team to a barge and a living module.

  Once the teams were assigned, Dwight and Jennifer escorted them onto the barges. Dwight took the all-male teams, Jennifer the all-female teams and married couples. They showed them the bunk beds, the individual wall lockers and foot lockers, and then the bathrooms. It took a few minutes to show them how to use the showers, toilets, and sinks.

  Jake set two teams on guard duty, and had everyone else gather for dinner. Teams rotated on guard duty throughout the night.

  In the morning, Dwight put Jake in charge of training all the men who had not been trained the previous day on the M416 assault rifle.

  After lunch, Jake was left in charge at the campsite, while Jennifer, Dwight, Ruby, Big Bob Johnson, Roger Volant and Harlan Wasser loaded into the two LTVs. Dwight and Jennifer each drove a vehicle.

  “It’ll take us the rest of the day to catch up to the wagon train, so don’t expect us back until sometime tomorrow afternoon,” Dwight said. “Keep up the weapons practice. Other than that, let everyone explore the rafts, but don’t let anyone open any of the cargo containers, or try to drive the vehicles.”

  “Got it,” Jake replied. “And don’t you forget that the idiot Jennifer got into the fight with is in that wagon train. He’ll be armed. I’d hate to see anything happen to her.”

  28
- RUBY & SUSAN

  Kansas Territory, USA, Wednesday, October 11, 1854

  Ruby rode in the right rear seat of Miss Jennifer’s LTV, watching the Kansas countryside roll by at astonishing speed. Prior to her former owner’s decision to leave Georgia and join the California Gold Rush, she had never even ridden in a wagon. As terrified as she was of the way the vehicle bounced over the terrain, she wished they could go even faster. She had been assured that catching the wagon train would be easy, but she also knew the wagon train had a four day head start.

  The two LTVs pulled to a stop on a bluff overlooking a creek that Jennifer told her was the North Fork of the Black Vermillion River. Not much of a river. More like a creek. The river was only about twenty feet wide here, but was deeply cut into the prairie, forming a formidable obstacle to the big Conestoga wagons. They stopped at a point where someone had dug a gently sloping trail down to the river. There was a matching trail leading up the bluff on the opposite side.

  “Based on their current path and speed, the wagon train should arrive at this ford tomorrow morning,” Miss Jennifer told her. “We’ll spend the night here and be ready for them when they arrive.”

  Ruby helped set up camp and cook dinner. After cleaning up, she crawled into the tent she shared with Miss Jennifer, but was too nervous to sleep. She imagined a thousand things going wrong in the morning when Mr. Carver confronted her former owners. She was the first one up when the morning sun peaked over the eastern horizon.

  Once they had eaten breakfast and packed away the camping gear, Ruby was told to wait with Miss Jennifer in her LTV until they were called out by Mr. Carver.

  Soon two men on horseback rode up to where Mr. Carver was waiting with Mr. Volant next to his LTV, rifles in hand. They exchanged words, and then one of the men rode off back towards the wagon train. A few minutes later the original rider came back with another man. Miss Jennifer told Ruby that it was probably the Wagon Master. After some more very animated talking, during which Mr. Carver pointed in Ruby’s direction a number of times, the Wagon Master sent the other rider back towards the wagon train.