A Ripple In Time [A Historical Novel of Survival]

by Zugg, Victor

  Everyone scattered to go about their normal tasks.

  Mason helped the crews on the perimeter defenses. In doing so he had a chance to work alongside Bobby. Bobby was probably in his middle to late fifties with thin, white hair. He was still dressed in the trousers and the white button-down shirt he wore on the plane, although now stained and grubby. The man didn’t come across as particularly happy most of the time; probably still despondent over the loss of his wife. But he kept himself busy. If he wasn’t out with Lisa and Angie, he was making himself useful around the camp. He had carried a few extra pounds when Mason saw him on the plane, but he’d since lost weight and seemed to be in better physical shape. Mason liked him.

  “How’s everything going?” Mason asked, as he grabbed hold of the limb Bobby was trying to move into place.

  “Okay, I guess.”

  “I appreciate you helping out with the fishing,” Mason said. “You guys are doing a great job keeping us supplied.”

  “Glad to do it,” Bobby said. “Being around the girls makes me feel younger.”

  Mason nodded.

  “So, how much of a jerk was Nathan to the girls this morning?” Bobby asked.

  “According to Angie, he was a total asshole to Lisa. I guess he caught her with her pants down, so to speak.”

  Bobby nodded

  “But hopefully the matter is over,” Mason said.

  Bobby glanced over to where Nathan was sitting on a log in front of his hut. “He’s the type to hold a grudge.”

  “I know,” Mason said. “I suggested the girls always have you along when they venture out.”

  Bobby nodded. “I think that’s a good idea.”

  Mason eventually worked his way over to the opposite side of the camp where Manny and several others had built a section of the barrier out of thick brush. “Did they teach you how to shoot a bow in survival school?” he asked Manny.

  “Not part of the course,” he replied, as he continued working. “But I know how to handle a bow.”

  “We need to get as many people as possible up to snuff on the bows,” Mason said.

  Manny stood up and surveyed the camp. “There are several that have hunted.” He pointed to Bobby and a couple of others. “We can start with them.”

  “Let’s include Angie,” he said, “she seems very capable.”

  Mason started walking toward the center of camp. “Might as well start right now.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Mason came instantly awake at the touch of someone’s fingers on his shoulder. He opened his eyes but couldn’t see much in the darkness. Just a human form hunched over him.

  “Manny asked me to get you,” the man whispered.

  Mason recognized Tito’s French accent and rolled to his knees. “What’s going on?”

  “He thinks something’s weird out beyond the perimeter,” Tito said.

  Mason holstered his pistol and got to his feet. “Lead the way,” he whispered.

  The two of them walked silently across the camp’s central open area.

  Red embers from the camp’s fire pit penetrated the darkness.

  Mason crouched lower as he approached Manny’s dark hulk. “What is it?”

  “It’s quiet,” Manny whispered.

  “Yeah?”

  “Too quiet. Normally there are all kinds of night noises from the forest. About twenty minutes ago they stopped.”

  Mason cocked his head and listened. He had to agree that it was quieter than normal. On top of that, the hairs were standing up on the back of his neck. His first thought was to rouse those that had been working with the bow and arrows and get them all positioned on the wall. He didn’t know that much about Indians and had no idea if they reconnoitered or attacked at night. Probably both. He decided to err on the side of caution. He leaned his head closer to Tito. “As quietly as you can, wake up Nathan, Bobby, and Travis. Get them armed with the bows and bring them back to the wall. Stay low.” He saw Tito’s body rise, turn, and low trot back toward the huts. Mason saw no point in waking anyone else. They had no weapons and if an assault actually occurred, they would just become easy targets.

  Just as Tito’s footfalls in the sand faded in the distance, Mason heard a single bird’s shrill, low in volume but high in pitch. One shrill and then quiet again. He had no idea if it was a bird or an Indian. Mato would have known, and Mason wished he was here now. Mason suddenly realized that the bird call might have been a ploy—a subtle but intentional attempt to get those awake in the camp to move forward toward the sound. Toward the wall. It was a common maneuver in combat. Feign an assault on one side and actually attack from the opposite.

  Mason rose to a crouch and leaned toward Manny. “I’m going to check the beach. When our people show up, get them spread out along the wall.” He didn’t wait for a response before turning and low trotting toward the sound of the waves in the distance. He pulled his pistol as he passed the huts and entered the trees between the camp and the ocean. Inside the tree line he slowed, ducked lower, and made maximum use of the trees for cover as he moved. Every few feet he paused to look and listen. All he heard on this side of the camp was the surf. And all he saw was darkness and the even darker shapes of trees and brush. On the opposite tree line, facing the ocean, the light sand contrasted against the dark ocean beyond. He peered up and down the beach with the aid of the star and moon light but saw nothing out of the ordinary. As much as he wanted to rejoin the others in camp, he forced himself to remain. If there was to be an attack, he was sure it would come from this side. Mason holstered his pistol and settled in for a long night.

  As the morning sun began to peek over the horizon, Mason stood and stretched his neck and shoulders. He took a final look up and down the beach and into the surrounding trees. Satisfied nothing was amiss, he began walking toward the camp, tired but happy the night was a bust. When he walked past the line of huts, he saw that most people were up and moving about. Manny, Bobby, Tito, and Travis were still manning their positions on the wall.

  Manny stood as Mason approached. “Sorry about the false alarm.”

  “I don’t think it was a false alarm,” Mason said. “They were out there. Somebody was out there, maybe just testing our defenses.”

  “Can we maintain this level of vigilance every night?” Bobby asked, as he joined Mason and Manny.

  Mason knew they didn’t stand a chance against an attack from even a small band of natives. But that’s not what anyone wanted to hear. “We’ll make it work.”

  Mason caught sight of Dorothy and Karen adding wood to the central fire. He walked over.

  “Did something happen last night?” Dorothy asked.

  “It could have been hostile Indians testing our defenses, or maybe they were just curious, or maybe it was nothing at all. Whatever it was, we have no choice but to carry on with our routine. We need to gather food every day since we have no way to store it.”

  “That’s not entirely true,” Manny said, as he walked up.

  Mason, Dorothy, and Karen turned to Manny.

  “We can smoke any extra meat we get,” Manny said. “We’d need a lot, something like a deer.”

  “Like jerky,” Mason said.

  “Exactly. We smoke and dry thin cuts of the meat over a fire. It should last a week in that state.”

  “I don’t think it will last a week in our state,” Dorothy said.

  “Don’t you need salt for that?” Karen asked.

  “Not really. Salt would make it taste better. But the smoke will also add flavor to the meat.”

  “And the smoker?” Dorothy asked.

  “Just a tripod of poles over a low fire. Hickory would be best with three or four racks at the top, spaced nine inches or so apart. The bottom rack would be about four feet from the fire. We’ll need some cordage to assemble the rack; I wouldn’t recommend using strips of rubber from the yellow raft. Jerky and rubber don’t go well together.”

  “Where do we get the cordage?” Mason asked.


  “Pull thin strips off the back side of dry cedar bark. Twist them together in a particular manner, and that’s it. It will be a lot of work and it will take some time.”

  “I don’t see where we have a choice,” Mason said. “For one thing, travel will be much easier if we don’t have to forage along the way.”

  Manny nodded.

  “Where do we start?” Mason asked.

  “There’s a dead cedar I came across the other day,” Manny said. “I’ll get some people working on that.”

  “Include Nathan,” Mason said.

  “And Tom would be perfect for the twisting part, while his leg continues to mend,” Karen said.

  Manny nodded.

  “I’ll send Travis and Tito with Lisa, Angie, and Bobby for today’s fishing,” Mason said. “Armed with a couple of the bows.”

  ◆◆◆

  Mason paused behind a small bush and took a knee. He motioned for the man behind him to do the same. Mason hadn’t had a chance to spend much time with Jeremy Jackson since he only recently recovered from his bout with yellow fever. But from what he had seen of the young man, Mason thought he had great potential. In his late twenties, Jeremy was certainly one of the most physically fit in the camp which was why Mason selected him to tag along. Mason couldn’t spare a bow for him, but he could help carry anything Mason was lucky enough to shoot. And Jeremy was on the quiet side, which was another reason to bring him along.

  There were two ways to hunt deer: stay in one place and wait for one to walk by or stalk them. Both options worked. But Mason chose the latter because he wanted to survey the area for any indication of who might have been outside the perimeter. So far he had seen nothing, which was what he expected. He had no doubt that a native to this area could trek in and out without leaving a sign.

  As Mason rose to a crouch and stepped off, he motioned for Jeremy to follow. Mason had already explained to him how to walk in the forest without making a lot of noise, and at times he had to glance back to make sure Jeremy was still back there. He learned quickly.

  Just as Mason paused behind another bush, he heard movement off to the right on the other side of a particularly dense growth of palmettos. The thicket was about thirty yards wide; easy enough for a deer to hop through but nearly impossible for a human to manage. To try would make way too much noise and would probably result in a snake bite. Without moving his feet, Mason twisted his torso until he was eye-to-eye with Jeremy. He pointed at Jeremy and to the right of the thicket. For himself he pointed to the left.

  Mason eased forward as he pulled an arrow from the quiver and strung the nock. He glanced behind and watched Jeremy slink toward the right side of the thicket until he was out of sight. Ten yards farther, Mason saw movement. It was barely a twitch from one ear of a deer lying just inside the thicket. Normally deer would have been up and long gone. But this one apparently decided to lounge. As Mason raised the bow, he saw the reason—two small deer, both with white spots. Mason estimated they were four to five weeks old, probably born in June. As Mason’s gaze turned back, his eyes locked with the mother deer staring straight at him. A split second later, the deer was up and out of there with its white tail standing straight up. The two fawns followed close behind.

  Mason brought his bow up to aim but quickly realized it was too late. The deer were gone. Mason lowered the bow and dipped his chin to his chest. A subtle shake of his head said it all. Dammit. He raised his head and saw Jeremy staring at him from a few yards away.

  The two walked toward each other and stopped where the deer had been lying. They gazed into the forest in the direction of where they had gone.

  “These guys are not only stealthy, they’re quick,” Jeremy whispered.

  Mason raised his chin.

  CHAPTER 10

  “I think we should send two hunting parties out tomorrow morning,” Mason said to Manny, as the two of them stood in the center of the camp.

  “So you got nothing?” Manny asked.

  “Saw a couple,” Mason said, as he gazed around. “I like what you’ve done with the camp.” Mason eyed three fire pits off to one side, away from the huts. Each was stacked with wood ready to light. Three long Hickory poles and numerous short lengths also lay next to each pit.

  Manny nodded toward Nathan, Mildred, and several others bunched around an eight foot length of cedar bark. Each person twisted and weaved lengths of the sinuous fiber. They already had several feet of cordage. “Just waiting on the cordage, then I can assemble the racks.”

  “How’d you get that bark off the tree in one continuous length?”

  “A sharp stick,” Manny said. “I cut a vertical line down the trunk with the axe and pried a little, lifted a little. Takes time but it can be done.”

  “How did you get Nathan to pitch in?”

  Manny smirked. “I offered to kick his ass if he didn’t.”

  “Whatever works,” Mason said.

  Suddenly, there was a loud boom from the direction of the ocean.

  Everyone stopped what they were doing.

  “Sounds like a ways off,” Manny said, as he started jogging toward the beach.

  Everyone got up, hurried off in that direction, and took cover behind bushes and trees at the very edge of the forest.

  Mason squinted to focus on two dots on the horizon.

  “Sailing ships,” Manny said. “Looks like two masts on both ships.”

  Mason heard another loud boom, and then another. Smoke bellowed from the side of one of the ships.

  “One is firing on the other,” Manny said.

  “Can you see any flags?”

  “Too far,” Manny said.

  “Has to be a pirate ship firing on a merchant,” Dorothy said, as she plopped down next to Mason and Manny. “Probably firing across her bow trying to get the merchant to stop. Both look like schooners. Popular among merchantmen and pirates.”

  “Heading north,” Mason said.

  “The merchant would be coming out of Charles Town headed for Philly or New York,” Dorothy said.

  “The merchant is heaving too,” Manny said, as he pointed.

  “Sometimes only the sight of the pirate’s flag was enough to stop a merchant,” Dorothy said. “The cargo usually wasn’t worth losing the ship and its crew. I guess this merchant needed a little extra persuasion.”

  “Will they take the boat along with the cargo,” Manny asked.

  “Maybe,” Dorothy said. “Depends on the ship and how much of a hurry the pirates are in. British war ships patrolled known pirate routes, so they didn’t like to hang around too long.”

  “If they take the ship, what will happen to the merchant crew?” Lisa asked from a few feet away.

  “That depends on a lot of factors,” Dorothy said. “The pirates might be able to enlist some of the crew. The rest could be set out on a life boat. Jolly boats, they call them. Particularly brutal pirates killed everyone that refused to join them.”

  “This must be kind of exciting,” Lisa said. “To actually be living in a time you’ve studied.”

  Dorothy twisted her lips. “Of course, but I’d rather be home.”

  “No doubt,” Mason said, as he glanced at the sky. “Maybe three or four hours of sunlight left.”

  “They’ll have what they want off that boat in less than an hour,” Dorothy said.

  Everyone stood silently watching as the two ships drew closer to each other until finally they stood as one dot on the horizon.

  Forty-five minutes later Mason squinted. “Rowboats,” he said, as he pointed at the unfolding scene.

  Those in earshot of Mason perked up.

  Manny took in a deep breath and exhaled. “Shit,” he said, as he slapped the tree trunk next to him. “They’ll be rowing to shore.”

  “Our shore,” Mason said.

  “How many rowboats?” Lisa asked.

  Mason focused on the dots. “Looks like two.”

  “I agree,” Manny said, still looking in that direction.


  “What do we do?” Lisa asked.

  Mason turned around and peered at the trees. “Can’t see the camp through the trees if they walk past.”

  “As long as they stay on the beach,” Manny said. “But that won’t matter. They’ll smell our fire.”

  Mason stretched his neck and shoulders. “Yeah.”

  “They won’t be armed with guns,” Dorothy said. “Knives maybe.”

  Mason ran the options through his mind—invite them to dinner or kill them immediately. Mason turned to Dorothy. “What are the chances we could encourage them to just move on?”

  Dorothy rubbed her jaw with one hand as she continued to stare out across the water. After several long seconds she shook her head subtly side to side. “Maybe,” she said. “But the crew of most ships was made up of hard men. Life didn’t mean much. There’s a good chance they’ll take what food and water we have, maybe even kill the men if necessary, and rape the women.” She glanced at Lisa and Angie. “The temptation would be great.”

  “Even if the ship’s captain is among them?” Mason asked.

  “Depends on the captain and the crew,” Dorothy said. “There’s no way to know.”

  “What was the size of the crew on a merchant ship back then?” Manny asked.

  “Impossible to say,” Dorothy said, “but for a schooner that size, probably less than twenty.”

  “Two rowboats,” Mason said, “say six to ten each. We could be looking at twenty men coming ashore.”

  Dorothy nodded.

  “We need a plan,” Manny said.

  ◆◆◆

  “I count a total of fifteen men,” Mason said to Manny. They were both prone behind a bush on the tree line.

  Manny shifted his head and peered. “Uh-huh.”

  Mason looked to his left and right at the men spread out among the trees. Nathan, Travis, Bobby, and Jeremy each held a bow with an arrow mounted and ready to be fired. Manny held the fifth bow. Mason rolled to his side, reached under his buckskin shirt, and took hold of his Glock. He shoved the gun into the band of his breeches at the small of his back.