When he came into the kitchen with only the small sacks of powder and shot, Emma looked at this and said, “Where are the supplies, Tobias? Do you need help bringing them in?”

  Tobias sat at the table and said, “There are none. They were sold out of everything, but a supply boat will come soon from Jacksonville. I’ll go back then and get the things we need. I did trade for a small amount of powder and shot.”

  Emma made no comnent as she stirred a pot of poke greens. She dumped them into a bowl, set it on the table and then said, “The Indians ate up the rest of the hog meat, and this is all we have for supper. I’m sorry. Maybe you can trap a coon tonight.”

  Zech came to the table and sat down, and he and Tobias helped themselves to the greens. Tobias said, “Trapping coons is something that’s beginning to worry me. I got nothing left to bait the traps, and ain’t no coon or nothing else going to walk into a trap for nothing and then shut the door on himself. Maybe I can build some bird traps. I could bait them with grass seeds or berries or something. They’s plenty of birds in the woods just waiting to be et.”

  Emma joined them, and for several minutes they ate in silence. Then she said, “Did Mister Jenkins say anything about the war? Did he have news?”

  “Not too much. He said the Feds took Jacksonville about two months ago, but they’re gone now, up to Savannah. He also said there are Federal raiding parties up to the north of us, but they won’t come here. The Rebs have formed a Cow Cavalry of local men to keep the raiders away from the herds.”

  Emma looked up anxiously. “What if they come for you, Tobias? What if they make you join this Cow Cavalry?”

  “They don’t even know we’re here,” Tobias responded, noticing her sudden fear. “I don’t think they’ll ever come into the scrub.”

  Emma had never complained about her isolated and lonely existence. Sometimes she ached for female companionship, for just someone to talk to, for a church social or a quilting bee. But she kept these yearnings to herself. Tobias and Zech would never know. But the fear of being left alone in the scrub without Tobias was overwhelming.

  Tobias watched her closely, and then he said reassuringly, “They’ll never come here, Emma. There’s nothing to fear.”

  “I hope so. It would be hard for me and Zech to be out here alone.”

  Changing the subject, Tobias said, “Since I have powder and shot, I can make shells tonight. Maybe tomorrow morning I can kill a deer. I know a place on the other side of the creek where there’s a patch of wild rye grass, and the deer are feeding there. The last time I took the oxen there to graze, I seen deer tracks everywhere.”

  “Can I go with you, Pappa?” Zech asked quickly. He had never been further from the clearing than the south hammock or the east bank of the creek where they killed the boar.

  “Yes, you can go. It’s about time you learned something about the woods over there.”

  Zech became even more excited. “Can I shoot the gun, Pappa? Will you teach me how to shoot it?”

  Tobias laughed. “We better not do that just yet. You fire that big ole cannon, it would probably knock you slam from here to the St. Johns. You ain’t growed up enough for that yet.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Tobias waited until dawn for them to leave the clearing and enter the woods. The pine ridges and bottom lands were filled with rattlesnakes. He knew he could probably avoid them, and instantly hear their warning, but Zech could be hit before he knew what was happening. And this would be even more likely in the dark.

  Mist seeped through the woods like smoke, and the ground was damp with a thin covering of dew. Squirrels barked constantly as they scurried from their nests and bounded off through tree limbs, jumping from tree to tree, starting a daily circus which would continue until they went back to the nests in mid-morning to rest. Then it would begin once more in late afternoon.

  Zech became more and more excited as they penetrated the thick woods and went past the spot where Tobias had shot the hog. They soon entered bottom land, and here there were thick canebrakes and huckleberry bushes and rotted logs and clumps of palmetto and Spanish bayonet.

  They turned south and followed the east bank of the shallow creek. Its water was crystal clear, and green moss on the bottom waved gently with the slow-moving current. Bass could be seen darting in and out of the foliage, chasing small perch and minnows.

  Suddenly they heard a series of harsh, loud screams come from somewhere above them. It sounded like quarrelsome old men fussing at each other. Tobias put his hand on Zech’s shoulder and cautioned him to be very quiet.

  A flock of ten birds lit in an oak tree just ahead of them. Zech’s eyes widened in wonderment as he stared at them. They were a foot long and six inches tall, with long pointed tails and yellow heads that became rich orange around their bills.

  Zech whispered, “What are they, Pappa? I’ve never seen birds like that.” He was afraid they would fly away too soon, and he felt that he could stare at them forever.

  “They’re Carolina parakeets. I come on them down here ever once in a while, but not often. They stay mostly along bottom land. They used to be in swamps up in Georgia in the summer, but they’re gone now. Folks killed them for the meat and the tail feathers. The cold kills them too, and that’s why they’d always fly south in winter. If it ever comes a hard enough freeze down here and stays that way long enough, it will probably wipe them out if they ain’t all been shot and et by then.”

  “I wouldn’t kill them,” Zech said, his eyes still wide. “They’re too purty to kill. I’d rather shoot a ugly ole crow and let the parakeets alone just to look at.”

  “Some folks don’t care,” Tobias said. “When I was about your age I followed some men on a hunt, and they come on some of these birds in a swamp. They shot one, and when it fell to the ground, the other flew off into the trees. In a few seconds one of them came back to the dead one, and then they all started coming back, one by one. They are the only birds I have known to do this. They kept coming back to the dead till the men just sat there and killed every one of them. Maybe they were coming back to grieve over the dead. I don’t rightly know. But when them men found out that if you kill one Carolina, then the others will keep coming back to the dead, they hunted them and shot every one in the county. Wiped them out clean. Let’s let the birds be and move on now and see can we find us a deer.”

  As they started forward, the birds flew away, again screaming loudly. Zech wondered if he would see them again. He stared after them until the sound could no longer be heard.

  Tobias said, “We best cross the creek here. The meadow is just over yonder.”

  They waded through the cool water and skirted the south end of a canebrake. Just past this there were more dense woods; then the trees thinned out along the edge of the meadow.

  As they approached the opening, they got down on hands and knees and crawled. The clearing was covered by a slightly swaying carpet of deep green rye, but it was empty. No deer were to be seen.

  Tobias eased out into the meadow cautiously, searching each path that led back into the woods. Then he stopped and dropped to his knees. There was pile of manure on the ground, and when he touched it, it was warm. He said, “We must of just missed them. They ain’t been gone two minutes. Maybe they heard us coming and took off. Let’s ease back to the edge of the woods and wait. They might come back if we’ll be real quiet.”

  They hid behind a bush and waited. Crows flew by and cawed, and squirrels barked in the trees above them, but no deer came. Tobias was just about ready to give up when he heard a sound in the woods across the meadow. It was a thrashing sound, not like a deer, more like a bear or a pack of bears.

  The sound grew louder, and then the bushes shook as the animal suddenly broke through them and ambled into the clearing. Tobias exclaimed, “Great day, Zech, it’s a Andalusian bull!”

  Zech was too fascinated to say anything. And he was also frightened. The bull was bluish roan in color, with huge horns that came upward out of its head and then turned outward, spanning three feet each.

  Tobias had seen wild cattle in the woods before, but they had been the smaller, runty yellowhammers, some not much larger than deer. He knew there were also Andalusians, but this was the first time one had come this close to the homestead. They usually stayed on open prairies where they could band together to fight off predators. One lone bull this size would stand no chance if attacked in thick woods by a band of wolves.

  As the bull started grazing, Tobias eased up the shotgun and cocked one hammer. He was awed by the bull’s majesty and sleek strength, knowing that this animal and its kind had survived in the wilderness over the centuries since it was brought here by the Spanish, overcoming tremendous odds. He hated to kill it, but he knew he was seeing enough beef on the hoof to keep his family alive for a long time to come. He hesitated for a moment more, and then he aimed and fired.

  At first the bull just stood there, and then it bellowed loudly and fell on its left side. It was dead instantly, its heart having caught the full load of shot. Blood rushed from a huge hole in its side and from its mouth. Its eyes rolled upward and then inward, as if trying to see inside its own body and determine what had happened.

  Tobias trembled as he walked across the meadow to the downed animal. A huge spot of the green grass was now stained red. He put his foot on the bull’s back and shoved, to see if there was any life left. His brogan pushed only dead weight. Then he turned to Zech and said, “There ain’t no way we can get this critter out of here by ourselves. You think you know the way back to the house?”

  “I know, Pappa. What you want me to do?”

  “Go and get both Tuck and Buck and bring them back here. And bring an axe. I can cut some poles and make a sled, and we can haul it out of here on that. While you’re gone I’ll go on and gut it. Can you do this, Zech? If you ain’t sure, I can go back with you. I just don’t want the buzzards to get at all this meat.”

  “I can do it, Pappa. Don’t you worry none at all. I’ll be back before you know it.” He turned and ran quickly into the woods.

  ***

  It was dark when Tobias hung the last section of meat in the smokehouse and stoked the fire. Every ounce of the bull would be used. The tail was skinned and chopped into sections for stew, and the leg bones and ribs would go into soup. The brains would be scooped out and fried, the hooves boiled into jelly. Tobias would take the hide and the horns to the settlement. He thought he would get at least two dollars in trade for the hide.

  Emma was taking a roast from the pot and putting it on the table when Tobias came into the kitchen. He said, “Thank the Lord for all blessings and for making that bull come out of the woods just when he did. Now we can keep old man hunger away for a while longer.”

  Emma smiled and said, “In the morning I’ll boil the heart and liver for breakfast. It will be good for Zech. Beef liver makes a boy grow strong.”

  Tobias sniffed deeply. “Lordy, Lordy, that meat smells good. I don’t know if my belly can still handle a beef roast. It’s so used to coon and poke. But I’m sure willing to try.”

  They all sat at the table and relished the meal in silence. Afterwards, Emma cleaned the plates and then they sat on the stoop outside the kitchen. Tobias patted his stomach and said, “I wish I had a pipe and some tobacco. A man needs a smoke after a meal like that.”

  Zech groaned, “I et too much, and I’m kind of tired after all we done today. Is it all right if I go on to bed now?”

  “We’re all tired,” Tobias replied, “and we’ll all go on to bed. I’ll have to get up around midnight and see to the fire in the smokehouse.”

  As soon as they were inside, Zech climbed the ladder to the loft where he slept. Almost instantly they could hear the sound of snoring.

  From far in the distance Tobias heard the lone cry of a wolf. Then it was answered with another cry, and then another, a mournful, menacing sound. He wished he had a dog, or better still, a pack of them. If he had at least one, it would help keep the varmints away. And maybe with it, he could catch a cow.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Summer passed slowly into early fall as Tobias finally finished building the fence where he hoped to someday pen his wild cattle. One row of corn in the garden had been made to grow again, and there was a patch of collards. But there were no beans or potatoes. The hogs had taken care of that. The family had eaten as little as possible of the beef and were saving it for the coming winter months when things would be even more lean than they were now.

  He also made another trip to the trading post on the banks of the St. Johns. No supply boat came south out of Jacksonville, and there would be no flour or cornmeal or sugar or salt and no oil to light the lamp. Jenkins gave him the last few ounces of the hoarded powder and shot, and each precious shell would have to be used wisely.

  Tobias was out by the shed, chopping firewood, when he heard the sound of a rider coming through the woods. He put down the axe and picked up the shotgun, which he always kept nearby.

  The man was riding a tall black stallion. He wore a huge brown hat and boots that came up to his knees. His face was completely covered by a red beard. A pistol was strapped to his side, and there was a rifle in his saddle holster. He rode directly to Tobias and dismounted.

  “Howdy,” Tobias said cautiously, holding the shotgun with his right hand on the hammer, relieved that the rider was not wearing an army uniform.

  “Howdy,” the man responded, “Name’s Henry Addler.”

  “Tobias MacIvey.”

  “You can put that down. You don’t need it with me.”

  Tobias leaned the shotgun against the shed wall. “It pays to be cautious these days,” he said.

  “That it do.”

  The man looked around for a moment, and then he said, “Some place you got here, but it’s sure isolated. I ain’t seen nothing for two days but woods. How long you been here?”

  “Going on six years. Came down out of Georgia in fifty-eight. Built the house myself and cleared the garden.”

  “Don’t see how you folks make it out here in the scrub.”

  “It ain’t easy. Times has been hard.”

  “You ever herded cattle?” Addler asked.

  “All I ever done is farmed.”

  “Don’t matter. You’ll learn fast.”

  This statement puzzled Tobias. He said, “What you mean by that?”

  “I’m a state marshal, commissioned by the governor, and I’m rounding up drivers to move a herd up to Georgia. Most ever ablebodied man who’s not in the army is riding patrol with the Cow Cavalry. You the first one I found who ain’t, so I’m recruiting you as a driver. I got the authority to do so.”

  Tobias felt a deep sinking feeling. He said, “How do I know you’re what you say you are? You got proof?”

  The man pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Tobias. “Read this. It’s my commission from the governor.”

  Tobias took the paper, glanced at it briefly and handed it back. “I can’t read. I’ll just have to take your word for it. But I got a wife and a boy out here. It would be hard on them if I left them alone.”

  “Ever man’s got a wife and boy. It’s hard on all of us. This war ain’t no church social. If we don’t get them cows to the army, our soldiers won’t have nothin’ to eat. And if they don’t eat, they can’t fight. It’s as simple as that.”

  “Just what is it I’m supposed to do?”

  “The herd is up north of here, on the Alachua savanna. We got to move them to Trader Hill on the St. Marys River. From there an army squad will take them over the state line and up to Atlanta.”

  “How long will it take?”

  “I can’t rightly say. We’ll have to let them walk at their own pace, and graze along the way, else time we get them there they wouldn’t be nothing but hide and bones, not even fittin’ for soup. I’d say we’ll cover eight or nine miles a day at best. You ought to be back home in a few weeks. You got a horse?” Addler asked.

  “No. I only got oxen.”

  “They’s horses up at the savanna. And you don’t need to bring along that cannon. That’s the biggest shotgun I ever seen. You try to take that thing on a horse, there wouldn’t be no room for the saddle.”

  “It hits what you aim at.”

  “I’ll wait here while you go tell your woman, but get a move on. Them cows should ’a been in Georgia two weeks ago.”

  Tobias turned and walked slowly to the house, feeling as if the weight of an ox had suddenly been dropped on his shoulders. Emma was standing outside the kitchen door, watching. She too had heard the approach of the rider. She could tell by the expression on Tobias’ face that it was something serious.

  Before Tobias could speak she said, “You’ve got to go, haven’t you?”

  “Yes. He’s a state marshal. I got to help move a herd of cattle up to the Georgia border. It’s for the army. Soon as we get them there I’m done with it and can come on back home. It ought not take too long.”

  “We’ll make do all right,” she said, trying hard to conceal the fear that would cause Tobias additional worry. “We got meat, and there’s greens enough. We’ll make do fine.”

  Zech was standing nearby, listening. He didn’t understand what was happening, only that his father must go away. He said, “I’ll take care of the garden, Pappa. And I can chop wood too.”

  Tobias put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You ain’t hardly big enough to pick up an axe, much less chop logs. But do the best you can by your mamma, and give her all the help you can. You hear?”

 

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