A longer chapter this time: Dawn.
Stone
17. Trip south
Jason heard the heavy footsteps of Stone getting up in the morning, so he pulled on his new clothes and hurried to join him for the walk downtown. He really liked the new buckskins Rayla had gotten for him yesterday: three pairs. They looked almost identical to Stone’s, except far smaller. He was proud of his new papa, and loved dressing the same as him. Emily had gotten three new dresses as well. They were mostly made of old flour sacks, but had ribbons and fancy bits that the girl loved, and he had to admit, they looked good.
Jason and Stone walked to the bakery. He knew there was a treat coming: not always a pastry, but sometimes a cookie or a tart. He would get one for his sister. He never forgot his mother telling him that he was to look after Emily seconds before Millstream had slit her throat and threw her body off the trail. Jason had vowed to kill the man, but instead had the satisfaction of watching Stone slice his head off when his sword had declared the man was evil.
Stone held his hand on the way to the bakery, and Jason looked around to see if any of the boys in town were up and around. He was glad to notice a couple, and saw that they noticed the big man and the small black boy. Since Stone and Rayla had taken them in, people all through the town showed him respect, when before it was scorn.
Emily made friends easily. Jason had more trouble, not always trusting white people. But now everyone nodded to him, even when he was alone. He was working hard in school, because Stone had asked him to. He especially wanted to understand money. So many different kinds, some silver, some coppers, and even the golden crowns.
When the pair walked back to the house, chatting as they went, Jason noticed the honey-pot man was there, talking to Rayla. The man came early every morning, and emptied the porcelain dish from beneath the morning chair. He put the liquid in a vat at the front of the wagon, and the other stuff into a smelly pile behind. Apparently he sold the liquid to the tanner, and the solids went into a compost pile with all the straw and mess that was cleared out of the stable. The tanner gave the man enough money to live on, and next spring, when the compost pile had matured, he would have a valuable resource to sell to gardeners or farmers.
“Rayla is having a conversation with the honey-pot-man,” Stone said as they walked back. “Do you think she is planning to run away with him?”
“I hope not,” Jason said. “That wagon is pretty stinky.”
“I was cancelling his visits after today,” Rayla said as they approached. “We are gone tomorrow, after all. Do you all want honey buns for breakfast, or should we walk done to the supper place for a breakfast.”
“Daddy got us tarts, Momma,” Jason said.
“Well, let me wash my hands after I put this away,” she said of the white pot. “Then we can have our treats.”
After buns and tarts, Jason took Emily to the play area, and stood nearby where he could see her. Three boys his age came up to him and started chatting. No one had ever done that before, and the boys said they wanted to go to the river and chuck stones. Jason turned them down: he wanted to keep Emily in sight. No one ever seemed to bother her, but he wanted to make sure she was safe and not being teased. As the only blacks in the town, occasionally there were things said. If it was to Jason, he usually ignored it, but if anyone said anything bad to his sister, he got involved. He had been in more than one fight before the other children learned not to tease.
After lunch it was time for school, and after that there was a couple free hours at home, where Rayla grilled them about what they had learned in school, because tomorrow they would get school on the wagon. Dad had been getting the wagon train all set up while they were in school, and just before supper he led two of the heaviest wagons across the new bridge as a test. It held up fine with his weight, Doug, and a four-horse team pulling a wagon carrying a ton of coal.
The next morning Stone was up before Jason woke, and got Doug and the wagon the family would ride in, and had it parked outside the house as the sun rolled over the horizon. He pulled up as Rayla was dumping the urine out of the porcelain pot, and then rinsing it out.
“You called off the honey-pot-man a day too soon,” Stone said.
“Well, it was only liquids,” Rayla said. “And I don’t want to come back in two weeks to what ever would be growing in there. Besides, I need the pot for on the road. You and Jason will be able to go in the bush, but Emily and I will need some privacy and the pot.”
“Are the kids ready? I stopped at the bakery and got rolls and bread, and a dozen cookies,” Stone said.
“Put them next to my seat in the wagon,” she said. “We’ll make a little breakfast in the wagon as we ride.”
Minutes later the kids were in the wagon, each munching a roll hungrily. Stone tied Glory to the rear of the wagon. Doug didn’t like being tied, but walked next to Rayla’s mare as if he was. They got to the river road where the other wagon was tied up with two drivers sitting on the bench. As well there were eight other wagons owned by other members of the community who had goods to sell in the south.
Stone tossed two rolls to his drivers, who gratefully accepted them. One of the drivers got out and walked over to take Stone’s place. He moved over to sit on Doug. He preferred riding to steering a wagon, and didn’t want Rayla to have to drive, even part time. Hiring a man had been the solution.
There were a few boys out early to see the train leave, chasing and waving to Jason. To them he was going on a great adventure, while they had to stay home and go to school. Riding the wagon was an adventure for about a half hour, and then it became boring. That is when Rayla started lessons for the children in the back of the wagon. Both had chalk and slates.
The lessons took up most of the morning, and when the kids started to get hungry about halfway through, each got a cookie. But with the sun high, Rayla got up and mounted Glory. “Arthur says there are deer nearby. I think I’ll go get lunch.”
“Can you take Jason with you?” Stone asked. “It is time he learned a bit about hunting.” The boy’s eyes went wide with excitement.
“If he sits at the back and doesn’t talk or fuss,” Rayla said. “Hop on son.”
This meant that Emily was upset to be left out, but calmed down when Stone said she could ride Doug with him. She mounted in front of the big man, and waved at Rayla and Jason as the rode towards a copse of trees.
The pair returned about a half hour later, with Jason sitting on the carcass of a small deer. Stone had circled the wagons when he saw them returning, and the drivers has set up a quick camp, with a small fire and a pot of water boiling. Two drivers were peeling potatoes and chopping vegetables. The meat was laid out and cleaned, and bits of venison were added to the pot. When enough meat was added to make a hearty stew, the rest of the meat was sliced into thin strips, and added to a pot of boiling salt water, to make venison strips of jerky to munch along the way.
After lunch, they rode for another six hours before circling the wagons again for supper. Rayla was glad that the wagon drivers were not sexist, expecting her to do the food preparation. Most trains don’t have any females, so the men learn to do the tasks themselves.
“We have company coming,” Rayla announced as supper was being prepared. “Arthur says there are two wagons approaching from the south, with about 20 men on board. He says they do not look martial, although I don’t know how he can tell that from the air. They are about an hour away.”
“Good,” Stone said. “We have time to have supper first. When we finish up, toss in some more meat and veggies, so we can treat our visitors. I will take three men with us. Rayla, you will stay with the kids.”
After eating, Stone mounted Doug and headed south. From the corner of his eye he saw that Rayla had mounted Glory and had veered off near the river to cover the meeting with her bow. He looked back, and saw that the kids were in the care of his driver who had learned that giving them each a cookie make him a friend forever.
Stone came over the first ridge south of camp and could see the two wagons, and understood how Arthur knew they weren’t a threat. There were five men walking, and about seven on each wagon, with their heads down doing something. The walkers saw the four riding towards them, and immediately showed signs of alarm.
“We have no coin, and very little food,” one of the walkers said as Stone got within hailing distance. The men clearly thought the four approaching were bandits.
“Relax,” Stone called back. “We mean you no harm. We are travellers heading south, and are camped just over this ridge. You are welcome to join us. We have a meal ready for you. Our advance scout saw you, and sent us out to guide you to the camp.”
“Excuse us for thinking poorly of you,” the man walking said. “I am Hampton and these men are fugitive slaves from Sarn. We were beset by bandits outside of Sarn. They took all our money and food, and killed two of us even though we offered no resistance. There are many bandits between Sarn and Greenford, mostly former soldiers of the Duke of Sarn.”
“There are still slaves in Sarn?” Stone said, starting to show anger.
“Well, not officially,” Hampton said. “The Duke announced that all slaves in the city were to be freed a few weeks ago. We all worked at one of the largest saw mills in the city, and our owner only offered a minimal wage to work for him when slavery ended. So we left. Only three remained with him, and none of those are very skilled.”
“And you brought along tools and blades?” Stone said. “Isn’t that theft?”
“Perhaps,” Hampton said. “But we only took the old and unused tools. We have been sharpening and repairing tools all the way on the trip. You see that big saw blade? We have had a man on either side, sometimes three around it, all the way north. We hope to have it sharpened and repaired so it is like new by the time we get to Newtown. Hopefully there will be need for sawyers there.”
“We come from Greenstone, which the people of the south call Newtown,” Stone said. “There you will be welcomed. Up to now we have been slabbing trees to make wood, as we have no big saws. You seem to be fully equipped.
“Aye, we have enough men and saws for four pits. I am a top dog, and Ceren here is my underdog. We would need to dig pits, but then we can each cut a timber morning and afternoon. Eight other men are fellers, and they have different blades for cutting trees down. Another three are axemen, and they clean the logs of branches and such.”
“I think all of our men have been using axes to fell trees. Then they use wedges and sledges to split the logs into planks,” Stone said. The man winced.
“The men working on the big circular blade will probably have to find something else to do,” Hampton said. “We have no steam engine to power the blade. But at worst, we will be able to sell the blade, once it is sharpened.”
“Maybe not,” Stone said. “There is a man up in Greenstone who is building a mill on a mill pond. Will the blade work from that?”
Hampton’s eyes lit up. “Perfect, a mill is better than an engine, as it needs no coal, coke or wood for fuel. Some of the men working on the blade have experience with mills, and will be able to set it up properly.”
“This is my lady,” Stone said as Rayla approached on Glory when she saw the there was no danger. “Apparently she felt she had to come out to meet you rather than waiting with our children.”
As they walked back to the camp, Rayla heard a cry of Mommie, and saw little Emily running towards them. Soon she was in the saddle in front of Rayla, and Jason, who had followed his sister silently, was hoisted up onto Doug. The wagons of the visitors were let into the circle, and the men were all welcomed to their meal.
“First food in two days,” Hampton said between bites. “The people of Greenford and Greenwood each fed us a meal after they learned our food was stolen, but it is two days between those towns, and another two days up to here.”
“Well, you will be fed again when you get into Greenstone,” Rayla said. “If you make good time.”
“And if not, see a man named Ranston,” Stone added. “He is the mill owner and will look after you, I’m sure.”
“Is he a good master?” Hampton said. “It will be good to work for someone kind.”
“Master?” Stone queried. “You forget. You are slaves no longer. As freemen, if an employer is cruel, you can just leave. But you will find Ranston a good man. He was a slave himself until recently. He may not be able to pay much, if anything, until you start producing planks, but he will be fair once the money starts coming in.”
“Tell me more about Sarn,” Stone asked as Hampton slowed down and began to eat less frantically. “Are all the slaves free?”
“Sort of,” the man said as he mopped up gravy with his roll, “Some owners refused to obey, but their slaves revolted in some cases. And the castle still has many slaves. But the Duke has raised taxes beyond the breaking point. It was one thing to set taxes at 50%, but then they were raised to the point where the tax collectors just came and took it all. The food and meat places got it worst. The collectors just took their wares for the Duke’s fancy dinners. Sometimes they didn’t even leave enough for the owners to live off of.”
“I have heard of those dinners,” Stone noted.
“Our business was not affected as much,” Hampton continued, “although money was always short. A lot of people heard about the low taxes in Greenford and Greenwood, and wanted to move, but knew they would have to give up their slaves. So when the Duke freed all the slaves, it started a mass exodus of people leaving. Greenford is packed with people, and Greenwood is little better. Of course, they are also dealing with the people coming in for the game.”
“What game is that?” Stone said.
“It is called footy, and it is something the local boys play, kicking a goat bladder filled with air around a pitch. Once a year the boys of Greenwood go to Greenford, for a big battle. This year the match is in Greenwood, day after tomorrow.”
“That sounds cool,” Stone said. “I used to play football, but it was the Canadian version. What you describe sounds more like soccer. Hopefully we will get to see the game if we get into town on time.”
Comments
Sounds like there
Will.be one less duke around. Hopefully they can see the American style of football game.
Love Samantha Renée Heart.
I always thought the flour sack dress was more of a joke
but now I can imagine that it was probably more real than people would probably want to admit to.
And Teddy Bears.
:D
I remember
I remember my Grandmother making her house dresses from flour sacks back in the 50's and early 60's. She even made a couple of pull-over shirts for my brother and me, they weren't 'going to church' clothes but they were good for everyday.
And of course we had to go out behind the smokehouse to use the out-house.
Jeri Elaine
Homonyms, synonyms, heterographs, contractions, slang, colloquialisms, clichés, spoonerisms, and plain old misspellings are the bane of writers, but the art and magic of the story is in the telling not in the spelling.
No joke
A century ago, they started becoming a trend. Not just flour sacks but also commercial feed bags. Through the lean days of the Great Depression they became so pervasive that in the last few years before the War the flour mills and feed stores started using cloth with colors and/or patterns as a way to get a competitive advantage. During the war years, recycling of almost everything was a necessity, and after the War they spawned competitions among amateur and even professional seamstresses.
All told, kind of a fascinating bit of history.
EDIT: Darnit, ninja'd again (;
Jorey
.
Not as weird as you would think
There were evn some cloth bags (can't remember if it was potato or flour) that had floral designs and dress patterns printed on them!
footy!
giggles. fun!
Stone
Another day in the life, so to speak. During the depression in the 30s flour sack dresses were so widespread the flour companies printed designs on the flour sacks so they made better dresses. Money was too tight to afford material for clothes let alone premade clothing.
Time is the longest distance to your destination.
Doh!
I just replied to a post higher up with this exact answer!
Flour sacks
The sacks were made from cloth. The cloth had a pattern woven in. In order to be sturdy enough the cloth was folded many layers thick. 10 lb bags also came with a plate or bowl or cup inside too. The dishes and patterns were incentive for brand loyalty. My aunt had an eight piece place setting gold colored. In the ‘90s I still had a couple of those flour sacks. Maybe so still with us in storage.
BAK 0.25tspgirl
Thank you.
I like this story.
The Duke is between a rock and a hard place,
Meanwhile Stone is building a militia of what is quite literally freedom fighters. Soon Stone and they town will be noticed noticed by larger kingdoms, who will try to crush the affront to the current status quo, Freedom is never free, it has to be nourished by the blood of patriots.
Pantina singing again?
Seems the fax machine at the castle is broken and didn't get the no more slaves memo. They also didn't get the memo about how to treat others.
Stealing from citizens to stack the Duke's dinners is going to cause the Duke to lose some weight. From his neck up. And because the Duke's men will try and stop Stone, they too may drop a few pounds.
Those ex soliders may think twice about attacking Stone and the wagons if they've seen him in action. If, on the other hand, they have never seen him work they will get first hand experience as they attack the wagons. Or as Rayla shoots them through the eye or head.
Others have feelings too.