Editor’s Note: This is an ongoing series which runs each Thursday morning titled the Richland Chronicles Volume 2, by author Paul Lintern. It is set in the summer of 1831 and tells the story of Richland County through the eyes of young people. This is the second in a three-book trilogy. Volume 1 was Amelia Changes Her Tune.
Samuel Lewis is an easy man to talk with, Isaac thought.
He answers our questions, without having to tell stories or preach sermons like lots of old men. The boys explored the whole village of Greentown, with Samuel telling about the people who lived in each house or worked in each building.
They shared their bread and cold chicken, which had been cooked the night before at the Inn. Then they parted ways, Samuel heading into the woods and the boys walking back to the canoe. Except there was no canoe!
There was no mistaking the bush they had hidden it under; the marks in the ground showed where the canoe had been.
“I see footprints,” Wolf Paw said. “One with heel boots, another with smaller heel boots and another with bare feet.”
Both Isaac and Wolf Paw wore moccasins, soft soled without a heel, so they knew they were not confusing their own prints.
“These heels look big, so if all three of them are in the canoe, they can’t be going too fast. We can catch them,” Wolf Paw said.
“If they are that big, we won’t be able to do anything if we do catch them,” Isaac said.
“We’ll see,” and the boys started running alongside the creek, on a footpath that was a few yards in from the edge.
Over the years, people living along the Black Fork, as with any stream, developed a network of paths from one house to the next, from a landing to a mill to the nearest settlement, and alongside each bank of the creek.
Wolf Paw was taller with longer strides, carrying a bow and several arrows, which was much lighter than the musket Isaac had inherited from his grandfather. Covering ground was much easier for Wolf Paw, but he did not say anything to Isaac about keeping up.
Isaac figured Wolf Paw knew he was going as fast as he could, and neither would let themselves be separated from the other. It was almost two miles downstream that the boys almost stumbled over the three men pulling the canoe out at a landing.
They jumped into the woods and lay down in a field of May apples. I wonder if there is any ginseng here, Isaac couldn’t help thinking. Bad time to start looking.
The boys took a few moments to catch their breath and try and figure out what to do. The three men were not that old, maybe 18 or 20. They talked loud, laughed a lot, swore a little and seemed to pick on the smallest of the three, the barefooted one. He was a kid compared to the other two, but still older and bigger than Wolf Paw and Isaac.
One of the voices sounded familiar. Isaac peered through the brush and waited until the biggest one turned his way.
“That’s the Bender boy,” Isaac whispered. “He’s a Clear Forker. That’s the one my cousin Samuel beat last year in rail splitting, to win the county competition.”
Every August, when most of the fields are maturing and harvest is still a month away, the men of Black Fork, north and east in Richland County — Olivesburgh, Mifflin, Gamble’s Mill and Shiloh — challenge the men of Clear Fork, which is south and west, men of Loudonville, Bellville and Lexington.
They gather for a day of games – tree cutting, rail splitting, horse racing, foot racing, leg wrestling, axe throwing, stone tossing, anything that two men can compete at outdoing the other. There was plenty of whisky being poured and some bets being made.
While the games were meant to be friendly, most Black Forkers would say they don’t trust those crafty Clear Forkers, and most Clear Forkers would say they want nothing to do with those uncivilized Black Forkers.
As it turned out, the last event of the day was the rail splitting championship, in which Samuel, Uncle Jacob’s 18-year-old son, was pitted against Jack Bender, the local favorite and winner the previous two years.
It was unusual that two men so young were in the championship. Usually a bigger man in his 20s or 30s won the event, but both had won several contests during the day to reach that point. Because the other contests had been so close, the winner of this event would determine the winner of the whole day for Clear Fork or Black Fork.
The contest was fast and furious with everyone packed around Samuel and Jack. Both were already tired from previous contests, and Isaac remembered thinking one of them would just pop out of their skins, they were working so hard.
But at the end Jack’s arms started giving out and the axe began glancing off the rails and swinging wildly. Some thought he had taken a little too much whisky between contests. Whatever the reasons Jack simply wore out, finally just sitting down on the last log to be split.
Samuel, who had been keeping pace, continued at his rate to the end and was declared the winner, as were the Black Forkers.
Of course, the Clear Forkers were not satisfied with the outcome and looked for ways the scoring should be different, but the Black Forkers took the ribbon and the bragging rights for another year.
Now, here he is, with my canoe and no Samuel to stand up to him, Isaac thought. I’m not exactly a match for him, let alone all three. Wolf Paw and Isaac watched about half an hour, to see why they had stopped.
It seemed they were setting up camp, but they didn’t understand why they chose to steal the canoe, when they could have walked a couple of miles to the same spot in plenty of daylight.
“I’ll move around the other side to see what I can,” Wolf Paw said. “You stay here.”
I can do that, Isaac thought, and wondered whether it was a good idea to be separated. He didn’t have long to think about it because no sooner was Wolf Paw out of sight than the second heel-booted man walked up the path, right toward Isaac’s hiding place to grab some kindling.
Strolling into the May apples to reach a dead branch, he stepped right on Isaac’s hand. It wasn’t a scream of pain, more like a quick yelp, but it was enough to be found.
“Well, lookie here. We caught ourselves a spy!” the man said. “Hey Jack, looks like we have a guest for dinner.”
