A Ripple In Time [A Historical Novel of Survival]

by Zugg, Victor

  Manny caught Mason’s eye across the camp and motioned for him to come over.

  “The oars are really coming together,” Mason said, as he walked up.

  Manny motioned to Nathan. “He actually came up with a good idea. We get a bigger boat in Charles Town.”

  Mason thought for a moment as he stared at the ground. “Can you sail a boat?”

  “No, but somebody here must have some experience,” Nathan said. “Doesn’t have to be that big to carry all of us.”

  “Beats rowing the seventy-five miles back and forth,” Manny said.

  “I agree,” Mason said, as he turned and scanned everyone in camp. He stepped back to the center. “Anyone know how to sail?” he asked in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear.

  Lisa raised her hand. “Does a forty-eight foot monohull count?”

  “It does,” Mason said. “Anyone else?”

  John Tifton cleared his throat. “I’ve owned two sailboats in my life. Did some blue water cruising on the last one.”

  “Okay, we’ll definitely keep a boat in mind when we get to Charles Town,” Mason said.

  “Who’s making the first trip?” Nathan asked.

  “Funny you should ask that,” Mason said. “I was thinking you, me, Jeremy, and Dorothy, and now either Lisa or John, along with Mato and probably a couple of his braves if I can talk him into it.”

  “What about me?” Manny asked.

  “You look too much like a Spaniard,” Dorothy said, as she walked up.

  “It would make it that much harder for us to slip in and slip out,” Mason said. “Same goes for Travis and Angie. They might be mistaken for runaway slaves.”

  ◆◆◆

  The next morning, Mason and Jeremy were off early for another hunting trip and ended up trekking the four miles to Mato’s village. They had been to the village so many times that the natives barely stirred upon their arrival. Only Mato and one other brave greeted them in the village center.

  “No luck?” Mato asked, nodding at the bow in Mason’s hand.

  “Not so far,” Mason replied. “Maybe on the way back.”

  Mato cocked his head as if to ask the reason for the visit.

  “We found a boat on the shore,” Mason said. “A rowboat large enough to hold ten people or so.”

  Mato acknowledged his understanding with a nod.

  “Some of us would like to visit Charles Town, and I was hoping you would come along.”

  Mato looked around the village and back to Mason. “Another month, we go.”

  Mason stroked his beard a couple of times. “You could still make that trip. We just need a guide of sorts. We’ve never been to Charles Town.”

  “What you do there?”

  “Get to know the place. Maybe buy some supplies.”

  “How many go?”

  “Probably five, plus you, and we’d still have room for a couple of your braves if you want.”

  Mato scanned the village giving him time to think.

  “I figure three days there and maybe a couple of days in town,” Mason said.

  “Okay,” Mato said. “When you leave?”

  “We can leave tomorrow morning.”

  Mato nodded. “I be your camp with sun.”

  “Thank you,” Mason said, as he put a hand on Mato’s shoulder.

  ◆◆◆

  Mason and Jeremy spent the rest of the day provisioning the boat. Since Nathan and Toby had gotten a deer earlier that morning, Mason didn’t feel bad about taking most of the smoked venison on hand. They also filled eight of the plastic drink bottles with filtered water and wrapped each bottle with buckskin.

  Mason gave considerable thought to the clothes everyone would be wearing when they entered the town. His buckskin shirt and Dorothy’s buckskin dress, even for Caucasians, were common for the period. Nathan, Jeremy, and John, on the other hand, were way out of kilter. John would be the better dressed of the two with his dark slacks and long sleeve white shirt, but as for Nathan and Jeremy, well, men didn’t wear baggy, cargo shorts and t-shirts in Colonial America. Especially a shirt that read beach bum across the front. Nathan and Tom Green were about the same size and luckily Tom agreed to switch his white dress shirt and gray slacks for Nathan’s shorts and t-shirt. Since the slacks were already split up to the knee on one leg to accommodate the splint he had worn, Mason went ahead and cut both pants legs off just below the knee making them look more like breeches.

  Mason would also be carrying eight buckskin pouches, each containing a hundred of the silver Spanish dollars, in his rucksack. He had no idea how much he would need, but eight hundred dollars seemed like a hefty sum for the time. The rest of the money would remain in camp.

  With everything done, he took a seat on the palm frond mat in the doorway of his hut. He retrieved the four extra pistol magazines from his rucksack, removed the two from his holster, and the one in the pistol and laid them all out on the mat. He removed the 9mm rounds from each of the magazines, disassembled the magazines, and proceeded to wipe down the parts with a piece of cloth. The four magazines that had been in the ziplock bag were pristine, but the two from the holster and the one from his pistol were beginning to show signs of rust. He wiped all the parts down with fat from the latest deer kill paying particular attention to the rust spots. They weren’t bad, but if left unattended they would worsen. He didn’t know if fat would help prevent rust, but it was the best lubricant he had. He reassembled the magazines, wiped them down with a final, thin coat of fat, and reloaded the rounds, counting each one as it was inserted. He started with 106 rounds on the airplane and came up eight short in his count, the ones he had fired at the Lenape braves. Ninety-eight rounds remained. Just as he disassembled the pistol and was about to begin cleaning each part, Karen walked over and took a seat beside him.

  “Promise me you won’t take any chances on this trip,” she said. She scanned the camp. “I doubt our little group here would last long without you.”

  The corners of his mouth turned up slightly. “Is that the only reason?” he asked.

  She turned her head to Mason and stared at him for several long moments while she twisted her lips. “No,” she finally said.

  Mason nodded and smiled as he continued to work on the pistol.

  “You’re carrying eight hundred of our dollars,” she said, as she tried to hold back a smile.

  Mason blinked slowly. “Really?”

  She put a hand on Mason’s leg. “Really.”

  “Okay, I’ll try my best to be careful.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “Do you have everything you need?”

  “Think so. We should be back in ten days or so, maybe less.”

  “And if you’re not?”

  “I’ll find a way to get word to you,” Mason said. “And by the way, take it easy on Manny while I’m gone.”

  “Will do. With Nathan on ice, we should be just fine.”

  The two of them continued chatting until well past dark. Everyone else had turned in. The central fire had burned down to coals leaving the camp blanketed in darkness.

  “I suppose we should get some sleep,” Karen said, as she went to get up.

  Midway into her rise, Mason grasped her elbow, pulled her close, and kissed her.

  Karen sunk to her knees at his side as she continued the kiss.

  After several moments, they parted.

  “Like I said,” Karen whispered, “be careful on this trip.”

  Mason nodded and watched Karen rise and walk off to her hut. He focused on her ring finger and the gold band she wore. She had never mentioned being married or anything about a husband. Maybe she wore the ring to keep men at bay. Whatever the reason, her previous marital status really didn’t matter at this point.

  CHAPTER 14

  People from the camp had just finished carrying the boat down to the water’s edge when Mato and two braves arrived. Each of the three carried a heavy stack of bound deer hides which they placed inside the bow. Mato and o
ne brave carried a flintlock rifle; the third carried a bow and a quiver of arrows. The hides and other provisions still left plenty of room for the eight passengers. With everything loaded, Jeremy pushed the boat a few feet into the water and held it waiting for everyone to climb aboard. Nathan, John, and Dorothy went first, followed by Mato and the two braves.

  Mason watched everyone jockey for the various seats until finally everyone was settled. One of the braves sat in the rear rowing position leaving Mason to wonder if he had ever rowed a boat. Mason turned to Karen and Manny standing together on the beach.

  “We’ll be fine,” Manny said, reading Mason’s mind.

  Mason nodded to Manny and turned to Karen.

  Karen placed a hand on Mason’s forearm.

  “We’ll be back before you know it,” he said. He covered Karen’s hand with his own. “Before you know it.” He released his grasp, turned, and climbed aboard.

  Jeremy pushed the boat farther into the water, over an incoming wave, and jumped aboard.

  Mason immediately dipped his two oars into the water and began stroking as he gazed at Karen standing on the beach. He smiled and winked in her direction. He saw her wave.

  The brave in the rowing seat gazed at Jeremy with a bewildered look.

  Jeremy motioned for him to switch places. “Watch what we do,” he said, as he took the seat and began matching Mason’s strokes.

  They were well out beyond the rollers when Mason began turning the boat parallel to the coast and putting more effort into each stroke. He kept an eye on Karen, the only person still on the beach, until she was a tiny dot and then no dot at all. He thought of their kiss.

  “What do you think,” Nathan asked. “An hour each at the oars?”

  “Sounds good,” Mason said. He was not able to see Mato sitting in the front of the boat to Mason’s back, but he figured the warrior probably appreciated not having to carry the bundle of pelts all the way to Charles Town.

  Given how fast they were passing the trees on shore, Mason estimated they were probably doing about three knots. If they could maintain that average for ten hours each day, they should arrive in the morning of the fourth day, maybe late on the third day if they picked up the pace.

  Taking turns at the oars, they rowed with a strong pace until they had passed a small inlet. The sun was just beginning to touch the horizon. Mason didn’t know the name of the inlet or how far they had rowed, but he felt good about the day’s effort.

  They rowed to shore, blocked the ocean breeze with the boat, and made a small fire.

  Taking advantage of the last of the sun’s rays, the brave with the bow walked the few yards to the inlet and returned with several fish. Apparently they had been easy pickings for his bow and arrow. Just after sunset everyone began munching on roasted fish.

  “Tell me about Charles Town,” Mason said to Mato.

  “Many people, many guns,” he said. “My people trade skins and leave.”

  “Do you know anyone there,” Dorothy asked.

  “Just man who buy skins,” Mato said. “He own tavern edge of town. Government say we can only trade there.”

  “What’s his name?” Nathan asked.

  “They call him Edwards.”

  Mason nodded as he swatted a mosquito on his cheek.

  Mato pulled a small buckskin pouch from his larger pouch of belongings, dug two fingers inside, and extended his hand to Mason.

  His index and middle fingers were smeared with some kind of greasy substance.

  “Bear,” he said, “keep mosquitoes away.”

  Mason used his own fingers to wipe the grease off Mato’s fingers, raised the stuff closer to his face, and wrinkled his nose.

  Mato and the two braves began laughing and proceeded to smear the grease on the exposed areas of their skin.

  Mason smelled of the stuff again, cocked his head to the side, and smeared some on his face, neck, and arms. He motioned for Nathan, Dorothy, Jeremy, and John to do the same. “If you want to get any sleep.”

  They all followed suit.

  ◆◆◆

  Karen woke to the sound of arguing. Her eyes blinked open to a brighter than usual hut and realized she had slept longer than normal. She rolled to her hands and knees, got to her feet, and stepped into the clearing. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and focused on Manny and Toby standing toe-to-toe in the center of camp. “What is going on?”

  “With Mason gone, Toby here feels he doesn’t need to hunt this morning.”

  Toby shrugged his shoulders. “Like I said, I’m used to hunting with Nathan. We’ve established a rhythm, and I don’t feel like breaking in a newbie.”

  “And I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here in camp without my supervision,” Manny said.

  Karen stepped between the two men and turned to face Toby. “Look, Travis could use more time behind a bow. This is the perfect opportunity for him to learn.”

  “I don’t think so,” Toby said. “We have enough food for a few days. I’ll wait for Nathan.”

  “No, you’ll go out with Travis or you can go out alone,” Manny said.

  Toby stepped closer to Manny. “Who put you in charge, little man?”

  “We don’t need this right now,” Karen yelled. “Get your bow and don’t come back until you have something.” She glared into Toby’s eyes.

  “Fine,” he said, as he threw his hands in the air. He walked off in a huff, picked up his bow, and disappeared into the forest.

  “Him and Nathan are two peas in a pod,” Manny said.

  “You didn’t help matters,” Karen said.

  Manny stared at here with a shocked expression.

  “You and Tito go out as usual. Travis can hang here in camp.”

  Manny gave a single nod and walked off. “But I’ll be back early.”

  “Everything okay?” Lisa asked, as she and Angie walked up.

  “Yeah,” Karen said, calming herself. “We follow the same routine; it’s just another day.”

  Lisa nodded and glanced at Angie. “We’ll be down at the inlet with Tom.”

  ◆◆◆

  It was near noon on the fourth day when Mason spotted a strip of coast line he thought likely to be Morris Island. It formed the west bank of a wide inlet. As they neared, he was able to make out James Island. He imagined Fort Sumter positioned on a tiny island just off the point. It would be almost a hundred years before that fort would be built. Presently the point of land was home to a large flock of seagulls.

  As the little boat hugged the east side of the inlet and rounded Sullivan’s Island, the Charles Town colony came into view on the peninsula separating the Ashley and Cooper Rivers. The town was smaller than Mason expected, but still spectacular in its historical grandeur. He glanced at Dorothy and smiled at her mesmerized expression.

  This was one of four major ports in the colonies Dorothy had said. Even in the early seventeen hundreds, it was kept busy with trade from England, the West Indies, and up and down the east coast of what would become the United States. It was hard not to be impressed at the historical significance.

  Mason eyed the many masted ships lined up along the wharfs on the east side of the town, the Cooper River side. Mason counted eight wharfs, all occupied by large and small ships. Still two miles out, Mason was able to see the tiny specks of people coming and going along the wharfs, probably loading and unloading ships. He also noted the fortifications, basically a wall, around the south and east sides of the city. Even from his meager understanding of history he knew the wall actually surrounded the town, built to fend off attacks from the Indians, French, and Spanish.

  When he looked left, back to James Island, he spotted a white structure in the distance, a few hundred yards north of where Fort Sumter would later be built. The structure was situated at the point of another spit of land that protruded north into Charles Town harbor.

  Mason scooted closer to Dorothy and pointed at the structure.

  “That would be Fort Johnson, completed i
n 1708. Three-sided with three bastions, if I remember correctly.”

  “Earthen walls?” Mason asked.

  “Apparently,” Dorothy said. “Modern scholars weren’t sure. The original walls were replaced later with tabby, a type of concrete made from ground oyster shells,” she said. “You remember the significance of Fort Sumter?”

  Mason gave a single nod.

  “The confederates fired their shots on Fort Sumter from Fort Johnson.”

  Mason raised an eyebrow and twisted his lips. He turned his attention back to Charles Town which was rapidly approaching. The tops of buildings were visible above the walls. Most appeared to be frame, but there were several made of brick.

  Mato, sitting in the front of the boat, turned back and got Mason’s attention. “The Edward’s tavern is past ships,” he said, as he pointed.

  The wall along the Cooper River appeared to be made mostly of brick with bastions positioned at the corners and along the length. Canons protruded from the bastions. From what Mason could see, the south wall was composed mostly of earth. Mason figured the source of the earth was probably a moat in front of the walls. It was an impressive defensive structure that would have given even the hardiest of invaders cause to question their resolve.

  As they approached the far north end of the brick wall, Mato pointed to the last wharf and an empty spot where they could tie up.

  Nathan and Jeremy rowed in that direction and soon the boat bumped against the wood-planked structure. There were no people at the very end; all were closer to the foot of the dock loading a masted ship.

  “This is good,” Mason said. With the boat secured to the wharf, Mason moved to the bow to get everyone’s attention. “Given our attire, I think John, Dorothy, and me have the best chance of blending.” He considered Jeremy. “I don’t think the town is ready for shorts.” He turned his head to Nathan. “You’re elected to stay with Jeremy.” Next he motioned to Dorothy. “You may want to lose the glasses.”

  She smiled and removed her glasses. She handed them to Jeremy.

  “Can you see without these,” Jeremy asked.