“Well, some of them are starting up new farms,” Myron pointed out. “I think some of the ones who are out there are just insane if they think they’re going to make farmers. But, on the other hand, a couple are probably going to do darn well. We’ll just have to worry about it as it comes.”
Mike smiled as they passed the rag marker tied to the tree. “This is it, Courtney, it’s all ours.”
“Ours and the township’s,” she said, looking around at the trees stretching in every direction. “We’re… we’ve got a lot of work to do.”
“But we’ll do it,” Mike said in a satisfied tone.
They had been incredibly lucky in the lottery, thanks mainly due to Herzer. His ticket had won one of the three jackasses the roundup had gathered. It was an incredibly valuable animal to someone who had mares to breed with it; the resulting mules would command high prices. But for Mike and Courtney it was more or less a dead end. However, the township had taken one fifth of all the beasts captured, and all of the slaughter meat, for itself and many of the animals were available to Myron Raeburn. His silos, intended to supply a surprising number of customers for the now defunct “Raven’s Mill All Period Foods” had fed the community during the worst of the food crisis. He had not, however, given it away; it was provided to the community on credit.
Courtney had known this, because during their apprenticeship to Myron she had grown close to Bethan Raeburn. So when Mike was unsure what to do with the jackass, she had approached Bethan. Despite the fact that she looked upon Bethan as another mother, the dickering had been hard. The other jackasses had all gone to people who intended to use them for breeding and Myron’s sole jack was getting old. The one that Mike and Courtney had won was young and surprisingly large and fit; it was a valuable animal.
In the end, Courtney had won from the Raeburns a young ox, a brace of chickens including a rooster, a sow that was believed to be pregnant and some old woodworking tools. Together with the young male shoat they had gotten as their other animal in the lottery and the plow, parts and rope they had been able to buy with a combination of their saved money and Herzer’s “loan” they were better set up than virtually all of the other new “pioneers.” In addition, Mike had befriended a badly beat up stray Rottweiller whose only fault seemed to be persistent friendliness and an odd fear of cats.
“I came out here with McGibbon the other day,” Mike said, taking a faint track off the main road. “There’s a good place for a farmhouse up in the trees.”
They followed the trace for a couple of hundred meters to a small hill. Running along the trace was a brook that issued from a crevice on the hill. Courtney looked around and considered the country. With the trees cleared away, a major undertaking in itself, the land other than the hill would be flat and easily plowed. But the first order of the day was setting up camp.
Mike set to work on some of the smaller understory in the area, cutting saplings down to form a lean-to while Courtney tied off the ox and let out the chickens and pigs. She threw down a handful or so of their precious corn so that the animals would know they would be fed and then set to work clearing out the area that was to become their home.
Over the next few weeks they both worked from before sunrise until there was no light to see. Mike had the heaviest work to do, felling trees, leaving the tops where they were, cutting the trunks into manageable chunks and then using the ox to drag them into great piles to dry. He had formed a yoke for the ox on the second night, working late by the fire carving it and piercing it with the woodworking tools they had obtained from the Raeburns. Everything had to be made and if there was something that they could not make they had to do without. Without any help the work went slowly but steadily. To spare the corn that they had brought, Courtney wandered the woods finding the few plants that she knew were edible while Mike took occasions to set out snares and deadfalls. Between the two of them they kept food on the table, which they prepared over their open smoky fires.
Finally, they had enough of the area cleared away to plant and he fired the tops that had been left in place, filling the area with smoke but leaving behind nourishing ash to help the soil and killing the first sprout of weeds. On an auspicious silver moon Mike used the ox and the plow, only the share of which he had bought, the rest being made from the wood he had cut himself, to open the fertile ground and plant the corn that it was hoped would tide them over through the first year. Courtney started a truck garden with some tomato seedlings they had brought, cooking beans and other vegetables and legumes to supplement their diet. The first year was more about planting for survival than sale and they recognized that. But by the time the next planting season came around, Mike fully intended to have enough ground broken to produce a surplus.
Even with the corn in the ground there was much to do. He hesitated over which of the many farm buildings was the most important to build but finally came to a decision. He built a paddock out of split logs for the pigs, which had developed an unpleasant tendency to wander away in the woods if left out at night, and coops for the chickens. He had had to pick numerous rocks from the fields before plowing and he used these to construct a spring house, with a wooden roof, and a simple dam near the head of the spring. Without good mortar it leaked something fierce, but it was a place where meat could be kept cool for a day or two when they had the occasional excess. The sow was noticeably pregnant and they could hope for a good batch of piglets in the fall. All in all things were looking on track.
Then, in the midst of these preparations, they had a visitor; Jody Dorsett and his crew, including Emory, leading a team of oxen, stopped by.
“Good Lord, you’ve been working hard,” Jody said as he walked up the narrow path to their farmstead. He looked around at the cleared land and the rows of newly sprouted corn laid among the stumps of the forest.
“It’s the only way to do it,” Mike replied, gruffly.
“It’s the only way to do it right,” Emory said with a laugh, shaking his hand. They hadn’t been close in the apprenticeship program, but it was still good to see an old friend. “Earnon and Nergui have set up not too far off. He’s got a couple of trees cleared away and already planted, with the sun only hitting the plants a couple of hours of the day.”
“Won’t work,” Mike said, waving at the small field. “I didn’t plant to the edges. Corn needs light. He was with Myron, he should know that.”
“It’s Earnon,” Jody said, disgustedly. “And don’t even talk to me about Karlyn. She’s gone and joined a group of… well they’re calling them the Crazy Coven. A bunch of women, no men allowed, thank you, and you wouldn’t believe how they’re set up. But that’s not what I’m here about. Mike, I wanted your permission for something. I’m back to general woodcutting and charcoaling. Your land, but I’d like to cut some of your trees. You’re right close to the road and we can either haul them back that way or, more likely, roll them into the river and pull them back with the oxen in a raft. It’s a good setup and you’ll get some cleared land out of it for the loss of the timber. Earnon’s actually a bit closer but…”
“That would be—” Mike said.
“Would you and your crew like to eat lunch with us?” Courtney interjected. “I’ve found some fresh wild collards and one of Mike’s deadfalls caught a shoat. It’s really too much meat for us to eat before it spoils; we don’t have a smokehouse yet and it’ll only keep for a day or two in the springhouse.”
“I’d be glad to,” Jody replied. “I’ve brought hominy and some dried meat for meals while we’re working, but some fresh greens and pork would be great.”