Cherokee

I turned Thunder onto the pike and watched as a troop of Confederate soldiers approached me from the direction of town. I reined aside, slipped into the woods, and hoped they hadn’t seen me. No such luck, three Rebels followed me. I whipped up my horse and wove in and out of the woods until I reached the safety of Old Man Gray’s abandoned farm. Bullets followed me into the barn. I stopped, barred the door, and rode out the back way into the dense overgrowth. . I knew that area better than the boys riding hard behind me.

I dismounted, tied Thunder in a copse of trees, grabbed my musket, and climbed the steep cliff face, where I had a good view of my pursuers. I couldn’t let ’em take me. I won’t allow ’em to conscript me into their Confederate Army. I must be here to protect my wife, Caroline, and our family.

I watched for several minutes as they cast around looking for my trail. They sent a few shots the way they thought I’d gone. The sergeant in charge yelled out to his men, « Forget him, he’s nothing but a hayseed farmer. We’ll get ’em later. »

« Whew! » I told myself, « never saw ’em that aggressive before. I better get on to Pa’s and warn the others. » I followed an old trail through the woods to Pa’s compound, forded the stream behind the farm, and rode on into the farmyard. I couldn’t stop thinking about my close call and the threat that I had dodged.

Before I left home this morning, I’d believed that Pa was an old man with an old man’s concerns about the Civil War. Now, I wonder just what we’re really facing.