A Ripple In Time [A Historical Novel of Survival]

by Zugg, Victor

  Mason wasn’t sure if it was a statement or a question, but to whichever it was, Mason nodded.

  Mato stared at the dead braves, still lying where they had fallen. He paid particular attention to their gunshot wounds. His head tilted to one side as he stared into Mason’s eyes. He held that gaze for several moments before turning to the four Catawba braves examining the downed Lenape. “We will bury,” Mato said. Mato looked around at the camp, at the dead, and the huddles of people. “You have people to bury too.”

  Mason gave a simple lift of his chin. “How did you know?”

  “Hear gunshots,” he said. He pointed to the two flintlocks among the dead Lenape. He cocked his head.

  Mason knew what he was thinking. The gunfire sounded like a lot more than two flintlocks. And how did eight warriors end up shot by people in a camp with no guns? That was a question Mason had no intention of answering. For the Catawba, there was no answer, at least not one they could understand. So instead, Mason just nodded and let it go at that.

  Mato finally raised his chin. “Maybe someday you say.”

  “Maybe,” Mason said.

  Mato turned and spoke to his braves.

  They proceeded to pick up the dead Lenape and carry them into the forest. It took three trips to get all the bodies and their possessions.

  “We could have used those flintlocks,” Jeremy said, as he stepped up next to Mason.

  “And the knives and tomahawks they carried,” Mason said. He glanced back and saw Manny approaching.

  “About their knives,” Manny said. He lifted the edge of his polo shirt revealing four knives in their scabbard tucked into his waistband. “These were the best of the lot.”

  “How did you know Mato would want to take all their possessions?” Jeremy asked.

  “Saw it in a movie,” he said. “They buried their dead with their stuff to help them in the afterlife.”

  “Those were probably Apache you saw in the movie,” Mason said. “But it apparently applies to the Catawba as well.”

  Dorothy, overhearing the conversation, stepped closer. “The Catawba buried their dead in mounds along with what they might need in the hereafter.”

  Manny raised an eyebrow.

  Mason turned to the camp. “We need to help with the wounded.”

  ◆◆◆

  Over the next several days, the number of graves grew until they numbered twelve including Captain Anderson and the yellow fever victim. Of those wounded during the battle, only John Tifton avoided serious blood loss and the subsequent infection that took most of those who did not die outright. By day four he was back up and walking.

  The loss of Bobby was a serious blow. Mason had come to rely on him around camp and with the fishing. He would be missed. All of those who died would be missed.

  After being assured by Mato that there probably were no other Lenape war parties in the area, Lisa and Angie resumed their fishing. Tom Green, whose broken leg had mostly healed, accompanied them.

  And the hunting parties resumed. There were three of them: Mason and Jeremy, Manny and Tito, and Nathan and Toby Wellen. Toby was a couple of inches taller than Mason and probably had him by twenty pounds. He had curly hair down to his shoulders and nearly a full beard. He was younger than Nathan but not by much. They were both in their forties. Toby also wore baggy, cargo type shorts along with a black sleeveless t-shirt. It was an odd combination to wear on an airplane, but nonetheless, here he was.

  After the Lenape battle, the twenty remaining survivors grew closer. Mildred, for instance, spent most of her time with Lana Broadhurst. They were about the same age. Lana loved dogs as much as Mildred. And little Chico had become protective of them both. The dog would growl every time Mason, or pretty much anyone else, came near.

  The only survivor Mason didn’t know much about was Sandy Craven. She was middle aged with blond hair to her shoulders. She spent most of her time alone in her hut. She would help out but only if asked directly.

  The topic of discussion nearly every night was how they arrived in the time period, how they would survive, and how they would get back. Those were the three questions Mason thought about the most as well, mainly the surviving part, and mainly at night before he fell asleep. Should they remain where they were or head for Charles Town? If the latter, would they be accepted or burned at the stake?

  ◆◆◆

  Nathan made it a habit to wake up before anyone, usually before the sun was up. The first order of business each day was a visit to the latrine. Then he would wake Toby and the two of them would scavenge the beach with the first rays of light for anything interesting. Except for an occasional sea turtle laying eggs in the sand, every day had been uneventful. But it also gave Nathan and Toby time to talk in private. The topic was almost always Mason’s self appointment as master and commander. If it wasn’t for that pistol, which he never seemed to be without, there might be a different person in charge.

  On this particular morning, Nathan was expecting another empty shoreline. And it was, except for the dory beached two hundred yards south. It appeared empty as it rocked in the gentle surf. But as they approached, Nathan caught a whiff of a foul odor that grew more and more pungent. They held their noses when two men sprawled in the bottom of the boat came into view. The eye sockets of both men were empty except for dried blood. Their skin was pulled tight to the bones in their faces. Their meager clothes were stained and thread bare. The only other items in the boat were a single oar and a wood chest.

  “They’ve been dead for days, maybe weeks,” Toby said.

  “Uh-huh,” Nathan said, as he stepped closer examining the wood chest. “Wonder what’s in the box?” he asked, as he bent over for a closer look.

  It was a sturdy chest, approximately two feet wide, a foot high, and a foot deep, with a substantial lock through a thick metal hasp. Nathan fingered the lock for a moment and then grabbed hold of a metal handle on one end. He lifted to judge the weight. “Grab the other end.”

  Toby, still holding his nose with one hand, bent over, took hold of the handle on the opposite side, and lifted. His large biceps and triceps flexed.

  Nathan had to use both his hands to lift his side of the box. “For such a small box, this thing is heavy.”

  They dropped the box on the beach with a dull thud. Both men stood up and stared down.

  “What do you think?” Nathan asked.

  Toby, still holding his nose, nodded. “I agree, it’s heavy.”

  Nathan snorted. He scanned up and down the still empty beach. “Let’s move this thing into the forest.”

  “We could wait for help and move it to camp,” Toby said.

  “Don’t be a dumbass,” Nathan said. “I want to see what’s in it first.” Nathan bent down and grabbed hold of the handle with both hands. He raised his eyes to Toby.

  Toby picked up his side of the box and together they waddled well into the trees and over to a thick stand of palmettos.

  “In here,” Nathan said, as he stepped over several large palmetto roots and shuffled farther into the fronds. They set the chest on the sand.

  “What do you plan to do about that lock?” Toby asked.

  Nathan stared at the lock for several seconds as he rubbed the thick stubble on his face. He bent down, took hold, and gave it a solid jerk. “The axe maybe,” he said, as he stood and turned in a full circle. “Think they would hear that from camp?”

  Toby shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, but even if it’s full of pirate gold, what are you going to do with it here?”

  Nathan considered the chest as he twisted his lips. “Mason said we’ll be traveling to Charles Town at some point, but you’re right, how would we take this chest without everybody knowing.”

  “Exactly,” Toby said. “Let’s just take it to camp.”

  “Not before I see what’s in there,” Nathan said. He stared at the chest a few seconds longer and then led Toby back to the beach. “We’ll let them know about the boat, but not a word about
the chest.”

  ◆◆◆

  Everyone from the camp stood around the dory, or jolly boat as Dorothy called it, and peered at the bodies. Most people held their nose.

  Mason turned to Dorothy. “What do you think?”

  “They’ve been at sea for weeks probably,” Manny answered before Dorothy could speak. “Apparently without any water. They wouldn’t have lasted long.”

  Dorothy nodded. “There are no markings on the boat or the men so I have no idea where they might have come from.”

  “Okay,” Mason said, as he turned in an arc. “We need to bury them.”

  “What about the boat?” Manny asked.

  “We carry it up to camp,” Mason said. “We can make more oars.”

  Several of the men dragged the dead bodies from the boat and up into the trees.

  Mason removed his boots, put them in the boat, and began walking the boat along the shallow surf toward the camp.

  Manny and Jeremy waded into the water and helped guide the boat.

  The rest of the people followed along the shore.

  “We could row this boat to Charles Town,” Manny said, “just like Captain Darby.”

  “It might be easier than walking,” Jeremy said.

  “It won’t hold twenty people,” Mason said.

  “Not everyone needs to go,” Manny said. “One or two of us could return for whoever stays behind.”

  Mason nodded but said nothing.

  Manny peered at Mason for several moments. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m wondering if there was anything else in the boat when Nathan and Toby found it.”

  Manny glanced at Nathan and Toby walking with the others along the shore. “Like what?”

  “I don’t know,” Mason said, “but the two of them are awful quiet.”

  ◆◆◆

  It was late in the afternoon of the next day when Nathan eyed the axe leaning against one of the huts. Nathan threw a couple of pieces of wood on the central fire and nonchalantly picked up the axe as though he were going to get more wood. He motioned for Toby to follow.

  The two of them walked into the forest until they were out of sight from the camp and began circling around to the west, toward where they had left the chest. They stepped as quietly as possible and checked their rear often to make sure no one followed.

  “Did you see Mason in camp?” Nathan whispered.

  “Yeah, he was over talking to Karen like always,” Toby replied.

  “Did he see us leave?”

  “I don’t think so,” Toby said, “he didn’t seem to be paying attention.”

  Nathan nodded as he continued to lead the way through the brush until they stepped out on the beach seventy-five yards down from the camp. After checking that the beach was deserted he turned and began walking to where they had found the boat.

  At the right spot he turned back into the forest and walked directly to the clump of palmettos. He stepped over the roots, pushed through the fronds, and stopped next to the chest, still where they had left it.

  Nathan pulled his polo shirt off and the white undershirt beneath it. He wrapped the undershirt around the lock. With the shirt in place, he motioned for Toby to step back. Nathan raised the axe and slammed the hammer side against where the shackle entered the body. It took several swings but the lock finally popped open.

  Nathan dropped the axe in the sand, slid the lock’s shackle from the hasp, and flung the lid open. His eyes widened and his mouth hung open. He gaped at Toby and then back into the chest. He dropped to both knees, reached inside, and extracted a single silver coin from among many more. He held it up and twisted his hand until he could see the back side.

  The coin was odd-shaped, more square than circular. The silver color gleamed in the light.

  Nathan fingered the definition on both sides and then gazed into the chest at the other coins. He reached in and picked up another. “There must be thousands of them,” he said, as he twisted his head toward Toby.

  Toby knelt beside him and ran his fingers through the coins until he saw the glint of gold. He plucked that coin out and held it up to the light. “Wonder what this would be worth back in the world?”

  “This chest might be worth millions,” Nathan said, as he picked up and examined another coin. “Can you read any of the lettering?”

  “Some are legible.”

  Nathan picked up several more coins and examined them closely.

  Toby pitched his coin back into the chest. “Now what?”

  Nathan jumped at the unmistakable sound of Mason’s voice behind him. “Now you help carry that chest back to camp,” Mason said.

  Nathan and Toby jerked their head around to see Mason, Manny, and Jeremy standing a few feet behind them.

  Nathan let the coins he held fall back into the chest. He slowly rose to his feet as he turned to face the three men.

  “Yeah, whatever,” Nathan said.

  CHAPTER 13

  “How much is all that worth?” Manny asked, as everyone stood around the open chest. Even Sandy was out of her hut.

  Mason turned to Dorothy.

  Dorothy knelt down next to the open chest and ran her fingers through the coins. “Most of these are Spanish dollars also known as pieces of eight. They were used as currency in America until the middle eighteen hundreds. Each was equal to an American dollar; it took three to equal a British pound. Silver and gold coins were rather rare in colonial America. There just weren’t enough minted since each had to be produced by hand.”

  “What about the gold coins?” Mason asked.

  Dorothy picked up one of the gold coins and examined it closely. Her eyes widened at the sight and her chin shook subtly back and forth. “I’ve never seen one of these until now,” she said, as she continued to turn it over in her hand.

  “What’s it worth?” Mason asked.

  “This is a single doubloon, also called an escudo, and it’s worth thirty-two reales, four times the Spanish dollar which is eight reales, thus pieces of eight. The silver coins were often cut in to eight bits.”

  “So what can you buy with a Spanish dollar?” Manny asked.

  Dorothy dropped the two coins back into the chest and stood up. “That’s really hard to say. Prices varied a great deal. A set of sheets, for instance, could cost three times what it cost to make a wooden bed. The sheets had to be shipped from London.” She stared at the chest of coins for several moments and finally shook her head. “You could buy a steak, bread, and beer dinner for two or three pennies. A suit of clothes might cost three to ten dollars depending on the material used. Shoes could cost a dollar.”

  “Okay,” Mason said, as he addressed the crowd, “the first thing we should do is count what’s here.” He eyed Nathan and Tom Green. “How about if you two help Dorothy figure out how much is here.”

  Dorothy, Nathan, and Tom dropped to their knees, began plucking coins from the chest, and arranging them in stacks of five on a palm frond mat.

  Manny took Mason by the arm and guided him away from the crowd. “Nathan?”

  Mason took in a deep breath and exhaled as he glanced back at the crowd. “He found it. And there’s not much he can do with everyone watching.”

  Manny nodded. “You know, if you go walking into town carrying a pouch full of those coins you’ll probably end up conked on the head and left in an alley minus the money.”

  “Yeah, we could use someone to show us the ropes,” Mason said. He thought for a moment as he stared at the chest of coins. “Mato.”

  “He’s an Indian,” Manny said.

  “He’s an Indian with some experience trading in Charles Town,” Mason said. “And he’s all we have.”

  Manny nodded. “And what about when who ever lost those coins comes looking for them?”

  “This is a long coast line, but if the situation arises, we’ll just have to deal with it. For now, let’s see what we can do about oars for that boat.”

  ◆◆◆

  Mason
and Manny had just returned to camp with three stout poles, close in diameter to the one oar, when Tom approached.

  “We have a count,” Tom said, as he motioned to a mat covered with stacks of the silver coins. Dorothy, Nathan, and several others stood next to the mat.

  Mason and Manny dropped the poles and followed Tom.

  “Six thousand, eight hundred and forty-three Spanish dollars,” Dorothy said. “There were only ten of the gold coins.”

  Mason raised his eyebrows as he stared down at the stacks. “And it’s roughly the same in American dollars.”

  “Roughly,” Dorothy said.

  Manny whistled. “I bet we could buy an entire plantation with that.”

  “Probably not a working plantation,” Dorothy said. “But bare land was actually cheap at this time. Free to a lot of people.”

  “We’ll need to divide some of it up into small pouches,” Mason said, “but for now, just put it all back in the chest.”

  “And who gets to keep watch on the chest?” Nathan asked.

  Mason smiled. “You found it Nathan, why don’t you take charge of doing that.”

  ◆◆◆

  Manny used the axe to split one end of a pole and used a knife to carve the inside of both sides until he had what amounted to a ten-inch slot cut into the end of the pole.

  Nathan and Toby worked on doing the same to the other two poles.

  With the slots cut, they each dabbed pine tar into their slot and slid a wood slat, split from a log, into the sticky space. They bound the two pieces tightly together with buckskin strips.

  “What we need is a boat,” Nathan mumbled without looking up from his work.

  “We have a boat,” Toby said.

  “No, a bigger boat,” Nathan said, “a sailboat.”

  “Where do you plan to get one of those?” Toby asked.

  “Charles Town,” Nathan said. “Use some of the money to buy a boat.”

  Manny stopped what he was doing. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”

  Nathan nodded.