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.
Isaac was pulled to his feet by the man and dragged into the camp.
They don’t know why I’m here. Don’t let them know.
He felt his fists clench and tried to act scared instead of angry. It was not that hard to act scared.
“Well, who have we here, Tom?” Jack said, as Isaac stood before him.
“I was, I was just walking along the path. I saw your camp and, just hid,” Isaac said.
“Where you from boy?” Jack barked.
“Up the fork a little.”
“How far up?”
“Just a ways.”
“You a Black Forker then? You act like a Black Forker.”
“Maybe, guess so. So what?”
Don’t get mad, Isaac. Make ’em think you’re scared. You’ll get through it better.
“I know this kid,” Tom said, “I’ve seen him before.”
“I don’t know you,” Isaac said.
“Yeah, he was with the Zeiters kid that beat you last year, Jack, in the railsplitting,” the third, younger boy said.
“He didn’t beat me, Bo, you chipmunk. I was sick, the axe was dull, he had softer wood, and you know the heat got me,” Jack shot back.
“I’m just saying…”
“Too much. Shut your trap,” Jack said, then he paused, put a smile on his face, and looked at Isaac.
“So you were with Zeiters. Still doesn’t tell me why you are here, in my campsite.”
“I told you, I was just walking through.”
“To where?”
Come up with something. Sound convincing.
“Newville?”
That’s not convincing.
“It’s not this way.”
“Well, then I’m glad I came upon you. I could have gotten lost,” Isaac said.
Jack paused.
“Nice try, boy, but you were following us.”
“Why would I do that?” Isaac said.
Keep calm. Don’t say too much. Make them talk.
“He already knows too much,” Tom said.
“Yeah, we gotta do something about that,” Bo said.
“You ain’t doin’ nuthin’ Bo. Just get the fire going for supper. We’ll deal with him. So, what’s your name, boy?”
Don’t say Isaac, don’t say Isaac, don’t say Isaac.
“Isaac.”
What did I just say?
“Well, Isaac, you are going to be our guest tonight,” Jack said. “Hope mama won’t miss you.”
“What should I do with his gun?” Bo asked.
“Gun? That’s no gun. It’s a boy’s toy, a relic from the last century. You can have it, Bo,” Jack said.
Bo grinned and took the gun off toward the woods, pointing it at various imaginary targets.
“Don’t shoot, it, Bo. You’ll draw attention,” Tom said.
The men sat Isaac down next to a big maple tree, out of view of the Black Fork. They tied his wrists with a rope that allowed him some movement but not enough to reach the other wrist or to leave the tree.
“Keep quiet, or I’ll keep you quiet,” Jack grumbled.
Isaac nodded in agreement.
What are they hiding? What are they planning? What do I do now?
Isaac just sat by the tree, while the men cooked a rabbit they had snared, and ate some hardtack they had brought. They only offered Isaac the hardtack.
He heard them mumbling about “the cargo” and “the customer,” but he could not figure out anything else.
As the sun set, Isaac was resigned to a long, chilly night, without knowing what the next day would bring.
They aren’t going to take me along, and they can’t leave me behind.
He knew Wolf Paw was somewhere out there. Maybe he was getting help, or out there sneaking around. As nearly as Isaac could tell, the men did not even consider that Isaac might not be alone. That was good. As nightfall came, Jack bedded down while Tom and Bo were deciding who would take the first watch. Let Bo go first, let Bo go first.
“I’ll take the first watch, then I’ll wake you up about midnight,” Tom said.
Bo lay down while Tom sat at the fire, occasionally glancing over to Isaac, who bowed his head and acted asleep. Before long, there was a tug at Isaac’s rope. Isaac was startled but he was thankful he kept quiet. It was Wolf Paw.
“Don’t move, and keep looking like you’re asleep.”
Isaac just remained still as he felt his rope go slack.
“We’ll wait until Bo takes over. He won’t last an hour before he nods off.”
Wolf Paw has been here all along. He knows as much about them as I do.
“I will get the canoe and start walking it upstream. The noise from the water should make it easy not to be heard. If you look through the trees, you’ll be able to see me push it by, but they won’t see it from the campfire.
“Pull your left hand if you understand me.”
Isaac pulled his left hand.
“Good. When you see me go by, get up and go behind the tree. You’ll find a path that goes around the camp and back to where you were caught. Go about a hundred yards up the path and I will be there with the canoe. Got it?”
Isaac pulled his left hand. And Wolf Paw was gone.
Tom got Bo up at midnight, as planned. He seemed groggy but sat at the campfire.
“Now you get me up in about three hours,” Tom said. “Stay awake.”
Bo mumbled something and Tom didn’t seem too concerned. Sure enough, in a few minutes, Bo started nodding off, waking up, nodding off, waking up, until he finally leaned his head back against a tree and was asleep sitting up.
Isaac couldn’t see the canoe where it had been left, but he did keep his eye on the gap in the trees. Suddenly, the canoe appeared, with the figure of Wolf Paw in back, pushing it along. Time to go.
Isaac moved slowly, inching around the tree.
My gun.
Isaac changed his plan. Bo had left the gun where he had been sleeping. It was lying on the ground, a few feet from Tom.
I’ve done dumber things, Isaac thought as he stepped toward the gun and toward Tom, whose back was turned as he slept.
No sticks, no sticks. Don’t step on any sticks. Reach down. Pick it up in the middle. Stay balanced. Slowly. Careful.
Isaac had the musket. Now, he had to walk past Tom and up the path to Wolf Paw.
Step, step, slowly. Take your time, almost there.
With each step, Isaac wanted to run. But he knew he had to be patient.
Almost. Almost. There.
He looked back and saw that no one was moving. Made it. He picked up the pace and soon found himself at the landing. Wolf Paw was shivering in the cold water, but smiling.
“Hello, friend.”
“Let’s head home,” Isaac said.
“It’ll be harder going upstream,” Wolf Paw said.
“I think we can do it.”
