by Shane Phipps
Sunday morning found Cody sitting in a church pew making a weak attempt to listen to the sermon. He heard just enough of it to realize that it was something about forgiveness, but he simply had too much on his mind to concentrate properly. All night he had tossed and turned, dreaming about the journal. He was both looking forward to opening it and dreading it at the same time. So many unanswered questions continued to eat away at him. He had other worries besides whether the journals would transport him back in time. He thought about his experiences in Edward Carter’s journal, recalling the horrible events of the attacks on Neuse River settlements. That story had been told through young Edward’s father, so Cody didn’t actually have to witness the horror firsthand. But he himself had experienced splitting wood and actually felt the strain and soreness from that work. He also remembered the emotional whirlwind of the deer hunt. That experience had been vividly real. What if he had actually experienced the Indian raid? How could he handle an experience like that? He realized that if he was transported into any more journals, he would have to be prepared for the possibility that he might experience something very traumatic. Still, he felt an exhilarating rush of anticipation at what adventures could be awaiting him.
Later that afternoon, Cody headed up to his bedroom. He sat down at his desk and stared for a few long seconds at the old journal in front of him. “Well, here goes nothing,” he mumbled. He took a deep breath and reached for the book. He opened it to the first page and began to read.…
January 20th 1757 My name is Ethan Carter. I am fifteen years of age. I am living in the Bryan Camp on the Yadkin River in the colony of North Carolina. I have been here in this settlement for a little more than three months now. I’ve been orphaned for the last four months. In the last year I have lost both my parents to the consumption. I took the money from the sale of my parents’ estate and traveled south from Virginia with a company of other settlers led here by Mr. Morgan Bryan. I purchased fifty acres of bottom land here along the Yadkin River. Though I live mostly by myself, I have been fortunate to have a couple nearby that looks in on me from time to time. Their names are Daniel and Rebecca Boone. They are but a few years my senior, but they have taken it on themselves as a newly married couple to see that I am doing alright. I am old enough to take care of myself, but truth be told, I am glad they have taken an interest in me.…
Cody had gotten quite a bit further into the reading than he had in the previous journal, and he had just allowed himself to think it must be a regular book when his head began to swim and he felt the butterflies in his stomach. Everything went dark for a moment and seemed to spin.
When Cody opened his eyes again, he found himself in a partially cleared field with an axe in his hand. He was standing in front of a beech tree that was about halfway chopped through. “Again, with an axe?” Cody moaned. It was pretty cold outside—Cody guessed somewhere in the mid-thirties—but he was sweating. As he looked around the clearing, he saw that this axe had been quite busy. There was a mostly level patch of ground full of tree stumps about a foot high. The width of the clearing ran from the river to Cody’s right, across a level field for about 150 yards to a small wooded hill on his left. The length ran at least 300 yards out in front of him, cluttered with stumps all the way. At the end of the clearing, at the foot of another small wooded hillside, was a pitiful-looking log cabin.
Cody decided to go back to chopping the tree in front of him. He got a good grip on the axe handle, took aim at the tree, brought the axe back, and put his weight behind a mighty swing … SHWAAACKK … the axe found its mark and knocked a large chip out of the growing crevasse in the trunk of the beech. As he was about to swing again, Cody thought he heard something. He stood still and listened. “Hey, Ethan!” came a faint voice from the direction of the little cabin at the end of the field.
So, I am Ethan Carter this time, Cody thought.
“Ethan Carter!” the voice said, just a touch louder and clearer this time. Cody squinted up toward the cabin and saw a man walking down the hillside.
“I’m out here in the field clearin’ trees!” Cody shouted. As he trudged through the stump-stubbled field toward the man, Cody took inventory of his situation. He noticed that he felt much bigger than normal. He glanced down at himself and saw he was wearing similar clothing to what Edward Carter had worn, only a little dirtier and more worn out. He looked down at his arms, and he sensed that he had some pretty impressive muscles working under his shirt sleeves. When he got to within about fifty feet of the little cabin, the man spoke again.
“Rebecca and I are plannin’ on makin’ syrup tomorrow, Ethan. We were wonderin’ if you would be interested in coming to help. You can have your share of it if you want to help,” he said.
Cody took a good look at the man in front of him. He was a very impressive-looking person … average height, powerfully built, with an air of importance. He appeared to be in his early twenties. He was wearing buckskins and carried a long rifle. In fact, he looked an awful lot like the images Cody had seen of the famous Daniel Boone, but that seemed impossible. Cody searched his memory for anything he might have learned about Daniel Boone in school or in books. Wasn’t Boone married to a woman named Rebecca? That sounded about right. Didn’t he live in North Carolina for a while? It seemed like that was right, too. Cody remembered that Boone had led the settlers through the Cumberland Gap into Kentucky in 1775. That would be in another eighteen years from this time, and this Daniel Boone would be in his mid-forties by then. That seemed about right, too. If this wasn’t the Daniel Boone, he was doing an awfully good impression.
Daniel was waiting for Cody’s answer. “I wouldn’t miss it,” replied Cody.
“Well, that’s fine, Ethan. Why don’t you just come on back with me and have supper with us tonight? You can stay with us, and we’ll get an early start on it tomorrow,” said the man.
“Sounds real good,” replied Cody.
“I can wait right here fer you if you want to clean up a bit,” Daniel said.
Cody thought that sounded like a good idea, and he walked inside the cabin. This must be where Ethan lives, he thought. The little shelter was barely a shelter at all. The walls were only about five feet high and made of rough-cut logs. Cody suspected that the logs had once been on top of some of those stumps out in the field. There appeared to be mud chinking between the logs, but the logs were not hewn flat and were very uneven. Light could be seen pouring in through cracks all throughout the tiny one-room building. The cabin’s floor was just hard-packed dirt. There was a fire pit at one end of the room, and a small fire was smoldering in it. The smoke from the fire was escaping through a hole in the roof directly over the fire pit. The roof had a slight pitch, so that the indoor ceiling was high enough for Cody to stand up straight, but only in the middle of the room. On the wall opposite the fire pit was a small bed that looked similar to Edward Carter’s bed, only not as big and not nearly as clean. A small table with a few kitchen items on it stood against the back wall. There was a tin cup and plate, a pitcher full of water, some salt, and what appeared to be some sort of jerky hanging from the wall. Cody looked around for a moment. “That tour didn’t take long,” he whispered to himself. He guessed the size of the cabin to be twelve feet long and eight feet wide.
Nothing in the room resembled a dresser, but Cody spotted a large wooden box. He lifted the lid and pulled out a set of buckskins that looked similar to the ones Daniel was wearing. He pulled off his dirty, sweat-soaked clothing and walked over to the pitcher of water. He poured some water from the pitcher into his cupped hand and splashed it over himself. He splashed some more water and rubbed some of the dirt and sweat off of his skin. He noticed that he smelled a little gamey. He pulled on the buckskin pants, a fresh white shirt, and a buckskin jacket. As he did so, a small, leather-bound book almost tumbled out of the jacket’s pocket. Cody retrieved it, then wrestled on a pair of long boots made of some sort of animal hide, probably deer, he guessed. He then took what was left of wat
er in the pitcher and tossed it onto the fire. Most of the flames went out immediately, and smoke began to fill the room. He kicked a couple sticks of wood around to spread them out so they wouldn’t blaze back up. Satisfied that the fire was out for good, he stepped outside.
“We’d better get steppin’ if we’re gonna make it to Sugartree Creek before dark,” said Daniel.
The two headed over the little hill behind Ethan’s cabin and followed a well-worn trail through the woods. They were following the river that ran beside the cabin and field where Cody had first been standing. “The Yadkin is flowin’ pretty heavy. There must have been some snowmelt up in the high country in the last couple days. Spring won’t be too far off now,” Daniel said.
Cody knew from the journal that Ethan’s land sat along the Yadkin River. He assumed from what the man had said that the Boones’ cabin must be on a creek that fed the Yadkin—Sugartree Creek, he had called it. As the two continued walking, Daniel spoke again. “I’m aimin’ to take one more hunting trip before spring. I’m goin’ to go up into the high country, up around the headwaters of the Yadkin. I could use some company if you’ve a mind to go along.”
“I would love to go,” replied Cody.
“Fine then. Let’s plan on leavin’ in about five days. We’ll be gone fer a couple weeks at least, so plan accordingly.”
The Daniel Boone Memorial Cabin in Davidson County, North Carolina, was built in 1910. Daniel and Rebecca Boone’s cabin on Sugartree Creek would have looked a lot like this one. (Durwood Barbour Collection of North Carolina Postcards, North Carolina Collection, University of North Carolina Library at Chapel Hill.)
Cody began to lose all sense of time as his head whirled with excitement. Am I really going on a hunting trip with Daniel Boone? he kept repeating in his mind. After about twenty minutes of walking, the two veered off the course of the river and followed another trail that ran along a small tributary creek. Cody assumed it must be Sugartree Creek. Another five minutes’ hike brought them to a clearing and a cabin. Out of the door of the cabin stepped a very lovely young woman. She was tall, nearly as tall as Daniel, with fair skin, black hair, and striking dark eyes. She appeared to be a bit younger than Daniel, probably still in her teens, Cody guessed. He also noticed that her belly protruded slightly under her apron, and Cody wondered if she was expecting a baby. This must be Rebecca, he thought.
“Howdy, Ethan. Hello, Daniel,” the young woman said.
“Hello, Rebecca,” Cody replied. His excitement grew. Surely this was THE Daniel Boone!
“How are things over on the Yadkin?” asked Rebecca.
“I’m close to gettin’ a field cleared,” Cody answered.
“Come on in the house. I’ve got supper nearly ready,” Rebecca said.
The three of them sat down to a table of bear meat, potatoes, turnips, and bread. Cody had never tried bear meat and he hated turnips, but he took heaping helpings of everything and devoured it all. He found it all to be very tasty and satisfying.
After supper, Cody sat in the main room of the cabin with Daniel. He looked around at his surroundings. Now this, he thought, was a real cabin. It was much bigger than Ethan Carter’s place, about eighteen feet by twenty-four feet. It had a separate room for cooking and dining. It had a proper fireplace with a stone chimney. There was a large main room with a bed along the back wall. The biggest improvements of this cabin were the walls and the floor. Unlike Ethan, Boone had taken the trouble to hew his logs flat so that they fit together snugly. This made for a much less drafty living space. He also had added a wooden floor. I’ll dread going back to the other cabin after this, Cody thought.
“So, Ethan,” Boone began, “I want to get one more huntin’ trip in before spring, before the baby’s born in May or thereabouts. I’ll hate to leave Rebecca alone with a newborn. I’m glad you decided to go with me on the trip. I think you’ll like it. You’ve never been up in the high country yet, have you?”
“No, I haven’t, but I hear it’s awful pretty in the Blue Ridge,” Cody replied.
“Oh, it’s a magical place, Ethan. I’ve got an itch to go out past the Blue Ridge and into the land of Cain-tuck-ee. Indians and fur traders say it’s a real Eden over there. I’m gonna go one day. There’s gettin’ to be too many folks ’round these parts. The west is callin’ to me. I can just hear it. Maybe you’ll go with me and see fer yourself one of these days,” said Daniel.
“Maybe I just will,” Cody answered.
Daniel Boone (1734–1820) shown sitting on a cliff edge, holding a rifle. The image is meant to depict Boone’s first sighting of Kentucky in 1769. (Tennessee State Library and Archives)
“As fer the syrup,” Daniel said, “I’ve checked some of the buckets hangin’ on the trees nearest the house here, and there’s a right smart of sap flowin’. I reckon we should have all we want and then some.”
After a bit more small talk, Rebecca suggested that they all turn in. “We have a big day ahead tomorrow. Best be well rested,” she said. She laid out a pallet for Ethan to sleep on fairly close to the fireplace, then she and Daniel retired to the bed along the back wall. As he sat in the flickering firelight, Cody remembered the little leather-bound book and wondered whether it was Ethan’s journal. He pulled it out of his jacket pocket, but he’d no sooner begun to open it when he sensed a curtain opening before him. He felt the swimming sensation in his head and the butterflies in his gut. Just as he began to black out, his head jerked up, and he opened his eyes to his own bedroom.
Chapter 4
Cody was really excited now. He was almost certain that he had just met someone really famous. “That must have been THE Daniel Boone,” he said to himself, in an attempt to make it sound official. But there was a way to make doubly sure. He opened up the Internet browser on his computer and typed Daniel Boone into a search engine. He found a website that gave a lot of information on Boone’s early life and clicked on the link. Cody scanned through the information to confirm what he had recalled earlier. Boone was born in Pennsylvania in 1734. Cody quickly did the math in his head. He estimated the Daniel Boone he met to be in his early twenties, and THE Daniel Boone would have been about twenty-three in 1757. Check. Boone moved to the Yadkin Valley with his parents in 1751. Check. He married Rebecca Bryan in 1756. Check. Their first son, James, was born on May 3, 1757. Check. And there it was. Everything checked out.
“A member of my family was friends with Daniel Boone!” Cody said to himself proudly. “And I got to meet him, too!” Suddenly he was struck with a strange notion. He had just read about some things that the young Daniel Boone didn’t know yet. He knew the exact date when the Boones’ first child was to be born. He knew that it would be a boy. He even knew the baby’s name. This made Cody a little apprehensive. I had better be careful if I go back with that journal again. I better not slip up and reveal information that I shouldn’t, he thought. To be sure, Cody decided he would be better off not researching any further ahead about Daniel Boone’s life in the Yadkin Valley. He would just see where the journal took him.
When he arrived home after school on Monday, Cody headed straight for his room. He found his place in the journal of Ethan Carter and began to read.…
We were up before first light the next morning. Rebecca had made a pot of coffee and some biscuits. After a quick breakfast of salt pork and biscuits, we headed out for a day of syrup making. I had never done this before and I was looking forward to it.…
As Cody read, he began to feel the same sensations that had pulled him into the journal before. When he opened his eyes this time, he found himself outside the Boones’ cabin, standing with Daniel in the predawn light. “Well, Ethan,” said Daniel, “we might just as well get started. We have a lot of ground to cover and a lot of sap to haul back here. You say you’ve never made syrup before?”
“That’s right. Sure like eating it, though,” Cody responded.
“Well, we’ve had our trees tapped fer over a month now, and the sap’s been runnin’
right heavy since the warm-up after the last hard freeze. We have a heap of sugar maples all along through these parts—that’s why this here creek is called Sugartree. We went out and drilled little holes in some of the best trees, and then we drove spiles into the holes. Spiles are like little spigots. They let the sap drain out. Then we hung little buckets off the spiles and have waited a few weeks for the sap to run into those buckets. Now you and me have to go out and fetch those buckets and bring ’em back here to Rebecca. She’ll boil down the sap, and that will leave us with the syrup. It’s mighty good, as you already know. It’s about the only thing we have out here to sweeten with. Hardly any sugar available, and most can’t afford it anyhow,” Daniel replied.
“How many buckets will we collect?” asked Cody.
“Best I recollect, we tapped about 120 trees. It takes a right smart of sap to make much syrup. About thirty or forty gallons of sap will make one gallon of syrup—it boils down to pert’ near nothin’ by the time it’s done,” Daniel replied.
“Seems like an awful lot of trouble for such a little yield,” Cody said.
“The way I look at it, Ethan, is sometimes you either have to do, or you do without.” Boone replied.
“I guess that’s so,” said Cody. “Let’s get a move on.”
Ethan Carter would have seen a scene much like this one when he and Boone collected sap for syrup making. (IStockphoto)
The two began the tedious task of gathering bucket after bucket of the thick, sweet-smelling sap. They had a long skinny pole with notches cut in it, and each would carry one end. Each bucket they retrieved would be hung from the pole, allowing them to carry a few buckets at a time. When they had a full load, the weight of the buckets would strain the hickory pole to its limit. They then would return to a little outbuilding near the Boones’ cabin. Daniel called this their sugarhouse. There Rebecca began the process of boiling the sap. “You have to boil all the water out of the sap before you can get syrup,” she explained.
