10 Pound Bag Ch. 056-060

It was a quiet evening, we'd had a simple shepherd's pie for dinner and the gentle but steady rain seemed to sooth everyone's mood. I slept well that night.

**** Chapter Fifty-Nine -- One Month ****

I lay in bed and listened to the rooster crow. Staring up at the tent ceiling I reflected on the month that had just passed. This had without question been the most challenging time of my life; it had also taken my definition of weird to an entirely new level. The good news was that the world had already changed on me. Once the leak of the lottery money had happened everything in my world had undergone a sea change, things would never be the same after that. Nobody would ever look at me or speak to me the same again with the change that money brought. Well, I guess the exception to prove the rule would be Matilda.

I was still wealthy but I wasn't there any longer, now I was here and my brain was still struggling with that.

So here I was in a tent in 19^th century Nebraska listening to that jerk of a rooster reminding me it was time to get up; I finally gave in to the rooster's demands and rolled out of bed, good times indeed.

The camp was fully alive when Michelle and I staggered out of the tent seeking coffee. That traitor Brin had gone out earlier leaving me to fend for myself against the spring morning air so much for my faithful canine companion I thought as I watched Brin loving up Esther as she fed them. I simply sat enjoying my morning coffee and the warmth of the fire. There is something special about spring mornings and the bright promise that they bring, those first rays of sunshine in a clear sky as the shine down on everything with the golden light of newness and promise. Spring simply washed the harshness of winter away with happy colors and fresh smells.

For the first time since we got here I simply took the morning off; I sat in my chair sipping my coffee and watched the morning bustle of the camp happen around me. The sun was shining on my face and my cigarette had the right acrid bite to offset the sweetness of the day. Matilda was fussing over breakfast filling the air with delicious aroma and the sounds the morning chores being done without me was calming. They didn't need me to survive on a day to day basis nearly as much anymore.

Even Sonya was working hard without comment or complaint and out in the distance I could hear the sweet sound of Michelle's voice as she talked to and tended our livestock. Our situation was currently pretty good if we considered everything; we didn't know the particulars but we had a very good idea of what would soon come our way. Our time in solitude would be short lived and I knew that we had some tough times ahead, but having some knowledge of what the future held was of great advantage to us. It was up to me to leverage that knowledge properly. With that the dinner bell rang and it was time for breakfast.

After breakfast Michelle took Amos and Holder and went down to the Nemaha river to do some fishing, I took a ride up and down the bank looking for a good place to ford. I felt I'd be able to cross about a mile upstream once the waters receded a little more, there was a shallow cove where the river ran wide I should be able to cross in a few weeks' time.

The St. Louis travel plan was to cross the Nemaha river directly south of us and then find a trail to follow east until we got to the Missouri River. We'd follow the Missouri down until we found the nearest settlement and get our bearings from there. I was sure that once we found the first trading post we'd be able to make better decisions from that point. The problem was that the St. Louis plan was based on a lot "If's and Maybe's". In other words a bad plan.

The better bet was the Omaha plan because history told me that there was a trading post located there but for some reason I was fixed on St. Joseph which I had no guarantees about. I knew there was an old French Fort and trading post near the future St. Joseph but that was really a roll of the dice when viewed in the harsh light of my new reality. The problem was that I really didn't want to go near the US Troops which I knew already had a small garrison located at Fort Atkinson in the Omaha area.

I headed back to camp to do a little more research from the information we had about this in our archives. I had the sinking feeling that I was headed north to Omaha in then end. I started planning my shopping trip journey in my head including who I would take with me and where we would go. In my head I still wanted to believe I could just pop down to St. Joseph and get what I needed but the truth that option was a few years in the future. I really wanted to go to St. Louis or Chicago but either of those would be a major excursion and I just couldn't afford to be away that long.

I kept searching my archives for alternatives and kept coming up frustrated; this decision would have to keep for another week but that would be the limit of my dithering. I resolved to come to a decision this week.

It was mid-day and time to eat, the dinner bell said so and everyone started to gather at the camp again. Our fishing team had done well and I foresaw an hour of cleaning fish ahead of us, the rivers here were fertile. Matilda and Esther had been gathering and showed off some fresh spring berries and greens; I had a couple of young rabbits I had taken as I explored the river. Sonya had stayed behind to mind the camp and prepare our Sunday dinner.

After eating we prepped our harvest and began to prepare a celebration, we'd survived for a full month and actually almost doubled in population. Rulo, Nebraska -- Population 7. In my head I still thought of this place as Rulo, I imagined that wouldn't change and so I just went ahead and thought of it that way.

As celebrations went this one was pretty quiet and full of reflection for everyone. Not a soul in the camp hadn't left folk behind, Holder broke down and told us a story of family get togethers back home. The food was amazing though, we had a prairie version of surf-n-turf which was fresh fish and venison. We all shared a toast to the future but the echo of our recent pasts was still too prominent to be drowned out.

The night ended gently and we all helped clean up and simply went off to bed.

**** Chapter Sixty - Smoking it Up ****

It didn't take long for Matilda to take over our impromptu smoke house and soon strips venison and rabbit meat were hanging from the rafters. When the fish finally came in I'm sure we'd have that also; I saw a lot of dried and pickled goods in my culinary future. We were slowly getting the interior of root cellar dried out, we just kept adding green wood to the small fire and let the smoke do the work for us. That all led me do decide that building a true smoke house would be one of Holders tasks while I was gone on my shopping trip.

We went back to working on the palisade, it was monotonous work but went fairly fast with the three of us working on it. The mules were incredibly helpful in getting the job done. We also had the problem of the shrinking log piles, we'd get this project finished but we would need to spend time felling trees soon after. It was going to be a very busy time for us as we raced against the eventual but inevitable onset of winter, we had eight months to get a lot done.

By the end of day Friday we got the last of the palisade up and in place. We didn't have gates yet and it didn't complete enclose our compound as we were still using large sections of the grove as screen also. We'd be clearing those groves down next to allow us to build a full wall around the main camp, protecting our technology was a huge concern to me and I eventually wanted to construct a building specifically to hide them. My plans for the future included a lot more man power and that was an entire issue of it's very own. I was considering a trip south specifically to buy some slaves, I would also trade with the local tribes for slaves if given the chance. I needed skilled labor also and that too would be hard to come by.

Saturday and Sunday were spent preparing for my trip. I planned on taking three of the nags on this first journey, I would ride the gelding and use two mares as pack horses. While the ladies worked up my travel kit Holder worked with me on the use of my musket pistols and the breech loader, I had a lot to learn and it was several hours before I felt the least bit confidence in my abilities with either weapon. I would take my 1911 for backup and one of the .22s for a hideaway but those needed to be hidden and protected. I thought of those weapons as my nuclear option.

Sunday morning I scouted down to the Missouri river following game trails as I went, I planned to follow the river north until I got to the Platte and then head west until I found a decent fording spot. I rode the gelding to get with him and get comfortable with my gear setup, saddle and pommel bags were new to me. Pommel holster/bags were used to carry your musket pistols while on horseback, they were handy and well-designed but still changed the riding experience. I felt we could make a couple of minor adjustments and these would work very well. It all reaffirmed to me that carrying weapons around is simply a pain in the ass.

Muskets were simply a pain in the ass no matter which way you looked at them. First of all you just didn't carry them around loaded, that would guarantee a miss fire every time. Once you had the weapon loaded you had to carry it carefully so as not to disturb the load or the primer and even if you had done everything perfectly the chance of a misfire was still pretty high. Life simply is not anything like the movies, if nothing else go out and fire a musket and watch the inaccuracy on even a short range shot.

Muskets don't have rifling and the ball that's shot out of them rarely fly's straight through the air. Rifling spins the projectile and creates far better accuracy, smooth barrel muskets on the other hand pretty much just push the projectile out of the barrel and with the lack of spin the bullet will start to dance in the air like a knuckle ball pitch. The shorter the barrel the greater the flight deviation, pistols as a rule are more inaccurate than rifles -- musket pistols flat out sucked. I was happy to have my 1911 as a backup option.

Getting to the Missouri river wasn't a problem, I found a decent dear trail and followed it. Heading north would be more challenging. It would be a very bad idea to try to ride the river bank, the banks were unstable at any point in time but at their worst immediately after the spring floods. The brush was incredibly thick for about a quarter mile inland, it was difficult to traverse even if you found a trail. I decided I would be much better off to explore to the north-west of camp and use the prairie land to speed my journey.

I took a quick scouting run out to the north-west after lunch and confirm that the terrain was much more suitable for travel, it was also suitable for haying and grazing. We'd be building a new road soon. I rode north along the tree line for a while, I could easily keep cover but move a long at a much quicker pace. I studied my map and decided it would be much better to head north until I hit the Platte river and then follow that and ford where I could.

I had vivid memories of the Platte from my youth and I knew that the "inch deep and a mile wide" description wasn't too far off base. However it also featured quick sand and at least one deep and extremely fast channel all along it's length, the Platte was a dangerous river that masqueraded itself to catch the unwary.

I returned to camp and talked about my intended course with everyone, there didn't seem to be much disagreement and I was the only one who had ever seen the Platte. We set up my pack for the journey and discussed the trading items I would carry, the chances I would run into local tribes was pretty high and I wanted goods to make deals with.

I settled on taking two bottles and six pints of whiskey, one bottle of red wine, five pounds of tobacco, and five pounds of gun powder. The bottles of whiskey and the wine were set as tributes to the fort commander, bribery was as effect in 1822 as it was in our modern day. The pints of whiskey were for gifts to tribal leaders I ran into as well as just simple trading, that was the purpose of the tobacco and gun powder as well but mostly all of it was mainly intended to purchase good will.

All of the dry goods were measured out into half pound cotton bags Matilda and Esther whipped up for me. I had to tap one of my whisky casks to get the pints I needed, Matilda provided the jars from her storage collection. We packed it all up along with my food and sleeping gear and by the time supper was ready I was fully prepared to load the horses and head out first thing in the morning.

I spent the evening studying maps and re-reading the meager information I had about the Omaha area in the 1820s. My final step of the evening was to collect the gold and silver I would be taking with me.