The earthen floor soon started to dampen as well but overall the men were comfortable in the temporary shelter.
After an hour or so the rain dwindled to a mist.
Rising from his spot in the corner, Frosty groaned and stretched. "I better go scout out the ferry. If you will, load the mules so we can leave quick as I'm back. That rain has most likely played havoc with the crossing so we need to be quick about it ’foh the blame river swell s ’ta where we can't cross."
As Frosty ducked out the door, Dagan started rubbing the dampness from the mules back in preparation for loading the packs.
"What do you suppose are in those packs?" Caleb asked Dagan.
"I don't know and don't want to know."
"You don't want to know?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because if we're ever asked I can truthful y say I've never knowingly aided the enemy."
"I'll be damned," Caleb thought seeing Dagan's wisdom.
By the time the mules had been rubbed down good and the packs loaded Frosty was back. He paused just inside the doorway to catch his breath, "Theys a British patrol down by the ferry. Whole passel of Hessian by Gaw'd, and they's headed this way so let's skedaddle.
We'll circle round and come in from the south. Give ’em Hessians time to clear on out. I just hope the river ain't to swell ed to cross by then."
For two days after a haring raft trip across a flooded river, the trio with their mules wound themselves deeper and deeper into the wilderness. Caleb commented to Dagan at one point when they had stopped to rest, "I'm damn glad he know's where he's going cause I don't." Overhearing the comment, Frosty replied, "We's on a game trail."
"With these supplies," he said nodding his head toward the mules and packs, "We have to stay off the main trails."
Wild game was abundant. Fish fill ed the creeks and streams, but Frosty didn't want to waste time fishing.
"Take too long," he swore when Caleb brought it up.
Once when crossing a small stream, they came across a black bear with yearling cubs. Frosty gave them a wide berth.
"Don't want to lose one of the mules or one of the ewes either," Frosty said off-handedly. On the third day he shot a deer. "Nice fat doe," he said cheerful y, "Bout time we had us some fresh meat."
"You boys ever ate venison," he asked as he cut out the back strap and tenderloins. Holding the pieces of meat Frosty had a gleam in his eye. "This is ’fah tonight.
We'll take the hind quarters for later." Laying the fresh cut meat on a rock, Frosty then wiped his bloody knife and hands on the legs of his buckskins. Seeing this Caleb couldn't help but shake his head. It wasn't over ten to fifteen feet to the stream where the man could have washed his hands. Oh well, Caleb thought, eyeing the soiled buckskins. What's a little blood compared to what was already on the man's garb. Some of it even seemed to be alive, and since the rain al of it smell ed. If Frosty could live with it so could he.
Later, after they had camped and Dagan had fill ed his bel y with roasted venison he lit his pipe and laid down to rest. The camp fire would crackle and small embers would pop into the air only to fal back into the bed of hot coals. An owl hooted in a near by tree and something splashed in the creek not far off. Frosty had let his pipe go out and was relighting it from a burning stick from the fire. Caleb had already laid down.
Asleep? Dagan didn't think so, not by the uneven breaths. Caleb had long, even breaths when he slept.
Frosty snored.
Settling on down, Dagan gazed at the stars.
Everything seemed too peaceful, so tranquil. It was hard
to imagine a war was going on. How was Gabe? Dagan felt tormented not knowing. He knew Gabe was alive but he couldn't get a better feel for what was going on.
It was impossible to rush Frosty who seemed content with the mules' slow pace. Dagan felt an urgency and wanted to be moving but knew it would do no good to push their guide. He would not be rushed.
It was almost noon the next afternoon when the forest seemed to be less dense. Ahead they could hear voices and then they could see a wagon pull ed by oxen pass by. They came out of the woods to a well used road.
"Yonder lies Petersburg," Frosty said pointing with his musket and that a way be ya uncle's place. It's not more'n two miles." Shifting his musket, Frosty held out his hands. "I don't usual y take ’ta strangers, ’special y British, but you boys be true gen'men. I hope you find ya kin in good health. You boys been good help and good company and iffen I gets me another "byil" I'm gonna look ya up, Caleb."
Dagan and Caleb shook the offered hand and thanked Frosty for al his help and generosity.
Watching the old man lead his mules on toward Petersburg, Caleb said to Dagan, "I'll miss the ornery old coot, but not his smell."
"No, I'll not miss his smell either," Dagan said, "But if I was ever in battle I'd like a bunch of his kind on my side. I'd put up with the smell to have such a marksman."
"Aye," Caleb agreed, "Especial y if he can cook venison."
Chapter Five
The road soon became less traveled and then turned into a well -used wagon path. After a short while they came upon a fence of stone with woods on the right side of the road and fields to the left.
"We're close," Dagan told Caleb. "This is the same kind of fence we had at home." As they walked up to the yard a hound started barking and running toward the two men, scattering a group of chickens. As the dog approached, Dagan held out the back of his hand and after a few soothing whispers, the dog went back and lay under a huge oak tree.
Uncle Andre had a nice home and the kitchen seemed to be separated from the main house by a breezeway. As nice as the house was it was the barn that caught the visitors' eye. It was a huge two-story building that had been built in the Dutch fashion with open doors at both ends. The rear doors opening into a corral. A lean-to had been built off one side and under it a blacksmith's shop setup.
Uncle Andre was standing in the barn door with a harness over his shoulder. He had on a battered hat and had a long stem white clay pipe in one hand. Seeing Dagan, he rushed up to him and gave a great hug.
"My boy, my boy," he kept saying. "You've grown into a man." After the greeting Dagan introduced his
uncle to Caleb. After the introductions Andre looked at his nephew.
"I knew you were coming. There's been a raven in the oak there for three days now." Then with a somber look he asked, "Is there trouble, Dagan?"
"Aye, uncle, there's trouble."
Before the conversation could go any further a young woman cal ed from the house, "Papa! Come quickly Papa, I can see Kawliga and Jubal coming cross the pasture with a new colt."
Looking at Dagan, Andre said, "We'll talk later but right now we have to attend this colt." As Andre hurried off, Dagan turned to his friend,
"Want to see…" Dagan broke off his question. Caleb was staring at the young lady on the porch. "Caleb, Caleb?"
Finally looking at Dagan, Caleb said, "A goddess. A goddess in the wilderness."
After an evening meal of greens, potatoes, roast pork, biscuits and cherry pie, a sated group sat in the parlor. Dagan had been introduced to his cousins, Jubal and Katheryn. Kaytheryn, who went by the nickname Kitty, was Caleb's goddess. small talk fill ed the room.
Finding the new colt had been luck.
"The old mare always wonders off to have her foal," Andre had explained. "Why she can't have them in a clean stal in the barn is besides me."
"Papa," Kitty said, "Queenie had ten puppies this morning. Had them under the back porch steps."
"Puppies," Caleb commented, "I love puppies."
"Do you? Would you like to go see Queenie's puppies?" Kitty asked.
"If you don't mind?" Caleb directed this to Andre.
"No, go ahead," then to Kawliga Andre said, "Get a lanthorn." Andre's way of providing a chaperone, Dagan thought.