Chapter Seven

  7.




     The crew camped at a nice bubbling spring on the river, the run was clear and cold all the way down to the Esteenhatchee, and the horses loved it.  They were happy to be out, breathing the fresh air, doing things.  It was easy to see.
     Johnny came up on Danny Smith as the cook was putting pots and pans together for supper. 
     "The Captain said I was going to learn about surveying," said Johnny, trying to strike up conversation.  "What do you think about that Danny?  Did you ever want to learn about surveying?"
     "Haha, like it or not, we'll all be surveyors soon my friend, you'll even be rustlin' up your own grub on some days when I am stuck outside pullin' chain and tape! Surveyin' is a verrrry involved situation," he said sitchy-ayshun, "But one thing I will tell you now, the quicker the better!  You'll hear all sorts of laws and rules about surveyin', this is Danny Smiths Number One and always will be: "The Quicker The Better!"
     Johnny came away from that conversation with new perceptions, and his perceptions continued to expand, one might even say exponentially.  If he thought the time went fast before, he was in for a big surprise, because the next six months went by like weeks, and the three months after that went even faster.  He kept a running account on paper which he then sent to Nancy as the chance presented itself.  She was able to get mail back to him by either addressing the place where he had sent his from, or by addressing him directly care of the survey unit, or, best, both of those together.
     Johnny remembered that first night out from Esteenhatchee, he would always remember it, like as not, the large campfire, the beginning of the real work.  The drinks leftover from town, the instruction.  It was March 31 1838. 
     The Captain began.
     "The only reason this survey is being attempted...again...is because theres been three dry years with a strong prevailing western wind, a drying wind, and this will be the fourth dry summer, I hope.  This survey could not happen otherwise.  The first time it was tried it was a failure, it was not possible because even the high ground was flooded by heavy rains.  Now I am going to ask some questions and Ben is going to give the answers, and lets hope he gets them right or we are all in a fix!
      There was laughter.  This was one of the ways the Captain taught the lessons necessary for surveyors to learn the art, and make no mistake, it was pure art, almost sorcery.
     Captain: What is the greatest barrier to good surveying?
     Ben: Human Error.
     Captain: Then what is the most important function of the surveyor, other than the mechanical work of using the compass and pulling the tape and sighting the levels and viewing devices?
     Ben: The most important job of the surveyor is to be able to calculate error, even after double measurements are taken, and to take all precautions possible to log all measurements with no error.
     This went on for about a quarter hour.  Sometimes the Captain asked a question from another man, a question he had already asked Ben.  This made it more interesting, kind of like a contest.  The men took it in, especially Johnny.  He was interested.
     Finally from the Captain:
     I want everyone to know something.  I have recently had the misfortune to learn that I truly HATE losing my men.  The reason for this pathetic realization is of course born of the fact that I have lost two men in the last week!  Before this trip I had never lost a man, ever, now two.  Yes, I find that I truly HATE LOSING MY MEN!!"
     He yelled the last at the top of his voice.  Everyone jumped.  The men were alarmed to see the Captain was shaking, and his eyes watered. 
     "So," the Captain began again, in a normal voice, "I will have no more of it, do you understand me?  No More Deaths!"  He shook his finger at all of them like he was scolding.   "For the rest of your lives I will be there for you if you need me, because the men I serve with are like my brothers, and when I lose my men its like I am losing brothers.  Do you understand?"
     Everyone was very surprised by this outburst, wide eyed, nodding their heads, yes yes we understand and we AGREE.
     Then Chuck Stevens, the cooks assistant, spoke up.  He was the very opposite of the Captain as far as the rank spectrum was concerned, but he was a part of the group like they all were.  Its the only way it can be and really work.
     "You dont have to worry about Holloway Captain, it weren't your fault, I saw the whole thing.  As soon as we got to the river I could tell he had fell in love with the place.  He never wanted to leave.  So he didn't.  The Fairys took him Captain, simple as that.  They gave him his wish.  Sometimes they do that, if the love is strong enough.  He'll never have to leave that place, not ever, he's one of them now.  I seen ever last bit of it happen with my very own eyes."
     He was nodding at all the men gathered around, and it was hard not to at least believe his conviction.  Johnny had a special sympathy for these sentiments.  He too had fallen in love there, and would be going back just as soon as he could.  Fire light danced on their faces.
    "Thank you Chuck, thanks," said the Captain, ever the gentleman. He was in tune with the spirit of the statement if not the actuality.  Brothers for real.
     It was way past bedtime, and mornings were going to come earlier and earlier for the foreseeable future.  Soon the men were all snoring except for the rotating guard whose duty lasted four hours.  Johnny was glad he was clear of it tonight, but every third night he pulled it, and that was just a fact of life.  He dreamed of Nancy, and their time to come.

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     A week out from Esteenhatchee found them all looking for a cairn left behind by Matthews survey crew the last time this was tried, 7 years ago.  The land was flat and dry for as far as the eye could see.  That was good, very good. There was a road of sorts, just dirt, that ran through the prairie and its tall grasses, and that too ran off to the horizon, heading east.
     The monument was not hidden but then it was not glaring in its presence either, surveyors tried to make them inobtrusive, though fairly easy to locate for those with a need.   Eventually it was found, and everything began.  The work moved fast here, most times measurements could be taken with very little preparation needed.  The Captains lantern burned late in the cooks tent, as, night after night, he went over the notes of the day, annotating, calculating, diagramming.  This was the real surveying, and though Ben Grierson was picking some of it up, the math, it was strictly unofficial support to help the Captain better accomplish what he did.
     As spring wound into summer the sun stayed in the sky longer every day, and every day there was still a lot more work to be done at the end.  Johnny learned all he could, starting with brush work, which was clearing a path for the tape or sighting level, and leveling ground for monuments.  His machete and his shovel became part of himself as he worked, they were extensions of his body.  He wielded them with authority by time it was over, and from there ever after. 
     Everyone had taken to wearing light under shirts or no shirts at all, and some even cut off pants into shorts, just wearing socks and boots and shorts.  Everyone got much darker in their skin and Johnny wondered to himself what made him so different from the rest of the brown people.  He knew about that though, Grandpa had explained it to him at length. 
     "Why do European people conquer and pillage?  Because they can," he would say with a wry grin.  "They don't know any better, and they don't feel the need to learn.  Its all about an invention, an advantage called the gun, which was really pirated from the Chinese, who do not have the innate urge to conquer and pillage.   European peoples rationale has alway been this:  if we don't do it to them they'll do it to us.  Fear and paranoia as religion."  Johnny felt there was more to it, but couldn't figure it, hoping that enlightenment would come with age.
     All of surveying was hard labor, but he enjoyed it. Their Cadastral survey was dictated by a new government agency and there was massive strictness to it.  They were doing a long boundary swath west to southeast from Esteenhatchee to Devils Garden, 25 miles, then south to Thonotosassa, another 90 miles.  Thonotosassa was a big lake north of Tampa, the Indian word meant Lake of Stone, or Stone Lake.  Johnny thought that sounded very interesting.  He was right again, but it would take awhile before he would find out.   .  
     These boundary swaths being surveyed were 6 miles wide, and they were cut into pieces 6 miles long, thereby delineating a legal boundary for township grids which would later extend all ways, east and west, north and south, until the water, or the states boundaries.  Each township would be 6 miles square.  Later these would be further divided into sections.  This was being done for many reasons, one main reason being the sale of land.   When it was time for Johnny to learn the chains and tapes he did so with a will, too.  He had to learn a whole new language then, with different pronunciations than he was used to, because it was very easy for the note taker, usually the Captain or Ben, to misinterpret what was said.  The note taker always repeated a reading, and as often as possible in another manner than the manner it was given, in an effort to overcome this repetitive error that was common among all surveyors.  There are many very common errors in surveying.
     The days sped by.  They started visiting Devils Garden about a month or five weeks out of Esteenhatchee.  They were too far away to camp around it yet, but on the weekly single day off anyone who wanted to ride in the wagon with the Captain could visit the store, and Johnny was always up for it.  Just as he knew many people of Esteenhatchee, the Captain also knew the store owner at Devils Garden.  The store owners name was Billy Sawgrass, and he was 1/2 Seminole and one half United States Senator.  His parents never married, but were on good terms still, even though his father the Senator was away most of the time.  The old man loved his son and arranged for him to be well off, propertied.  Billy Sawgrass had been good friends with Matthew Gilmour since their school days.  At one of the colleges they had roomed together.  They were involved in activities that had to do with the fair treatment of the indians and the slaves, but Johnny didn't get too much of that.  They kept to themselves about it, and if thats what they wanted it was ok by John Prestwick.   He was not exactly forthcoming about most of his future plans either.  He figured the time would come where talk would be good, but not yet. 
     On his first trip to the store with the Captain, Johnny asked Billy Sawgrass if there was a post office nearby, and Billy said he was going to see the postmaster tomorrow, does anyone else have mail?  This began Johnnys letter sending and receiving, and it was fairly regular during the survey groups stay at Devils Garden.  It took 2 or 3 weeks for a letter to get to Nancy, and another 2 or 3 weeks for a letter to get back.  Seeing as the full time spent around Devils Garden was something between 11 and 12 weeks, Johnny was able to send 3 and receive 2 letters.  The address he sent her mail to was one of her former schoolmates, a friend since childhood.
     After Devils Garden the mail would not be as reliable, he was sure, but only for a short time.  After Devils Garden it happened anywhere it was possible, and in some places where it wasn't.  Once Johnny gave one of his letters to a military detachment on its way to a Fort over by Saint Augustine.  That letter moved faster than any of the rest for some reason.
     Some of the insects Johnny saw around Devils Garden gave him a pretty good idea where the name came from. Big hardshelled things, beetles, and giant locust the size of his boot toe.  It wasn't until later that he discovered a lot of these were eaten by the indians, and considered delicacies.  Johnny did not think he would ever partake, but to each his own.   There were a lot of snakes, too, big ones.  Eagles and hawks killed the snakes on a regular basis, and many a night at sunset he watched a big bird of prey carry off its twisting dinner.   What a really odd place this is, he thought.


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      It was the second letter from Nancy that got Johnny counting the days more closely.  It was almost June and in that letter she confided that she knew she was pregnant.  She said she was too happy for words, and Johnny was too.  In fact Johnny felt like doing back flips, like he used to see some of the performers at the state fair do, but ever the practical one he also knew he would probably hurt himself and that would do no one any good.  It felt very strange, the idea of being a father.  He never really knew his real father, so how would he act?  Would he do all right?  He thought it best to copy his Grandfathers examples whenever possible, and that was sound reasoning. The more he thought about it the more he warmed to it.  A part of him had expected it all along.  No one knew yet except them, and thats how Nancy wanted it to remain for as long as possible.  It obviously would not remain that way forever, but until it was absolutely necessary it would be best for all involved if things went on as they were.  Johnny agreed, and he was thankful she was with family or he would be worried to distraction.  It was bad enough as it was, but he could handle the stress knowing she was home, with her people.  
     As he wrote these letters he found within himself an expressiveness he had not known.  It seemed very important that he be able to describe things correctly, and in interesting ways.  Sometimes though the pen seemed to have a life of its own, the flow was uncontrollable, especially when he was describing things that impressed him.   He told the Captain about that, an interesting phenomenon, like a loss of time, a lapse.  Matthew said that was a higher self writing, he said we are made of many parts all alive on different levels, different planes, and maybe some levels cease to exist sometimes, but new ones are always created.  There are many other places where these parts of us live, and they are always alive somewhere, the whole self never dies.
     For her part Nancy had taken to writing about what it felt like to be pregnant.   Her body was changing radically.  Being part of her body her mind underwent changes too.  This was therapy, she said, the writing.  A purging of thoughts, making them real, tools to think better with. Truthfully, this time of communication with the pen was one of the things that strengthened them most.  They became fans of each other.  In spite of distance, their love expanded and grew deeper, they knew each other far better than if they had not experienced it.  Both would always consider the time a blessing.  Some things would not even require spoken words in the future they were building.


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     The surveyors had finally cleared the long corner of Devils Garden, and were heading south.  They were too far away even to ride back to it on the day off, having already gone 40 of the 90 miles to the lake called Thonotosassa.   The longest day of the year had passed again.  Now the nights were getting longer, and the nights were getting cool too, changes welcomed by all.  The western breeze remained constant.  The end was not in sight yet, but there was light from the end of the tunnel. Things were rolling along, and the Captain was pleased.  The men worked well together.
     Shane Paruche and Johnny worked together a lot, mostly by virtue of their experience in surveying, which was nil, or had started out that way.  They had been assigned like tasks because they had like knowledge.  Together they got a lot of work done.  Johnny got along fine with Shane, and the feeling was mutual.  They found they had some common experiences in other places, and while together they joked and laughed a lot.  Shane loved a good joke, and it seemed if someone else told one, it would remind him of another, and these things could go on for quite some time, especially around camp fires. 
     One day while they were working Shane asked Johnny did he know why there was always an empty chair by the casket at a funeral.
     Johnny said that was for Rigor Mortis to set in.
     "Oh you heard that one."
     "Uh-huh."

    

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Letter entry
September 10 1838

     My Dearest Johnny,
     I am happy to read that you have received my letters, it gives me confidence to see the post office so efficient. 
     It is as I thought and as I want, I am carrying our child, and you have made me happy beyond words.  There came a time, recently, where hiding the change in myself was not possible, so I confided in my Aunt Emily, who seemed disconcerted at first, but then became quite happy about the whole state of affairs.  She told me not to worry, she would intercede and explain everything to my father, her brother.
     Well, what a row that turned into!  Like a coward I hid nearby while Aunt Emily went to have a talk with Dad.  It got quiet then I heard a bang and a bellow, and though I was scared I was more concerned for Aunt Emily.  I made to go out and confront things myself.  I found out later the bang was his hand coming down on the table.  He yelled:
     "I KNEW it would happen one day, damn the government and its fort."
      Things got quiet again. I could hear Aunt Em entreating.  Next he cried:
     "Under my roof! Then:  "Another mouth to feed". 
      I could stand no more and stormed in and confronted him.  I told him you were returning and we were to be wed, to which he gave a snarling sneer.  Then he laughed openly, at ME, as if I was the dumbest little critter on the world.  I'd had enough.  This was the time I'd saved the gold bars for, clearly.  I went and got 4 of them.
     Laying them in front of him on the kitchen table, I told him that not only would this care for the baby but also take care of a large part of the debt incurred during mothers illness, and my betrothed has asked that it be used for just that! 
     Father became quiet all of a sudden.   After a few minutes introspection, then inspection of the gold bars, he said gruffly, "I suppose I will meet this man soon enough then." 
    Looking directly at me for the first time since the fracas commenced, he said:  "I hope its a boy."
     The Nerve of that man.
     I told him in no uncertain terms that even if it wasn't a boy, there would be more, many more, so eventually he was bound to get his wish. 




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Letter entry
October 4 1838

     Beloved,
     I have receipt of your letter dated September 10 1838.   I have never been happier than I am right now.  It is wonderful news.  I wish every day I was with you, but I know that every day brings us closer.  The time is moving fast here, as I am sure it is moving fast for you.  Please take good care of yourself.  The closer you come to delivery time, the more you must relax and take things as they come.  There is no good in struggling, nothing to be gained by fighting your body.  Know that I am with you always.  I love you.  Johnny.



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      When Johnny told the Captain, the Captain said:
     "Well you don't waste any time do you?"
     "Not Ever," came Johnnys reply.
     They were alone in the cooks tent and the Captain had his papers and tools of mathematics spread all over the table.  Everyone knew you could catch the Captain at this time, but everybody also knew it was best to let the Captain do his work, unless something of high importance needed addressing. 
      Matthew Gilmour reached into his satchel and withdrew a sealed bottle of whiskey, the last bottle of whiskey he'd saved from Esteenhatchee, and he made a toast:
     "To John and Nancy Prestwick of Esteenhatchee Florida, may they and theirs live long and prosper forever."
     Johnny said hear here, and they drank.
     "So you'll be leaving the service when your enlistments up?" asked the Captain.
     Johnny said that was the plan.
     The Captain said he would not argue against that plan, it sounded like the best possible plan, "And once you get settled in Esteenhatchee, I would like you to do me a favor or two."
      Johnny said he would be honored.
     "First, go to the boatyard, and find an old fellow there with long white hair and a long white beard, his name is..."
     "Martin." Johnny interjected.
     "You know Martin?" 
     Johnny explained about his two hour visit with Martin on his second day of leave.  "Martin gave me the full run down at the boatyard, I think I might pursue work there eventually."
     "Yes, John, that you might.   I have a place out on the water, not too awful far from the island we visited that night.  I want you to look in on my house every once in awhile, write to me and let me know what you see.  I am still 4 years from leaving the military, according to my personal plan, and it will be a great relief to know the place is being checked ever so often.  I will draw you a map, you will find it easily enough with a map.  I was going to say you will have to get with Martin about using the skiff, and I will write him a letter that you can take with you and give him.  Once you are settled there, and we begin writing, I may ask another thing or two, along these same lines.  As well, I know some things about the area, how it will grow, and I'll let you in on that.  Mayhaps we can partner in business, after all the smoke clears, and I return."
      John Prestwick thought that would be very good.
      Its great when plans come together.
      

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Letter Entry
November 20 1838

     Dearest Nancy,
     Lately I find myself thinking of you at the strangest times, which is not to say they are strange thoughts, they just happen willy nilly, with no rhyme or reason.  I'll be doing something, even concentrating, then there you are.  I wonder if these are the times you are thinking of me, and in some odd way we are communicating.  Captain Gilmour, who you will meet someday, believes that not only are things like that possible, but a real basis of the the way we are.   He says somewhere along the line we lost our true vitality, and its up to us to get it back.  Matthew is exceptional, and will be our close friend and ally in the years to come.  He is preparing a recommendation for me to the boatyard there at Esteenhatchee, and it looks like employment may begin as soon as I can process out of the military.  Once that is done and I am free of government rules, I will come with all possible speed to your side and never leave again. The survey is nearly complete, and we will be on our way to Fort Brooke Tampa within a week or ten days.



Letter Entry
December 1 1838

     Johnny,
     You are in my thoughts more and more, almost always.  I try to imagine where you are, what it looks like, to see it through your eyes.  I miss you so.  It will not be long before the baby comes, and it is a lively baby, kicking and moving around all the time.  Aunt Em says thats a good sign.  I eat like a horse.  I will ask Em to mail this letter on the day the baby is born, so that you may know as quickly as possible the things we are all wondering about. 


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     The land changed, slowly at first, then more quickly.  There were a lot of hills now, making measurements more difficult, and there were many trees.  Big fat large trees in all the wrong places.  The going was slow, but the men were always busy.  Time raced.  The schedule was beginning to wear on them, and at night they trudged back to their camp like the walking dead, to eat quickly, and then sleep.   The Captain worked late into the night, every night.  Everyone knew that this would not be over until there was no more work to do, so they doubled and tripled their duties and got things done.
     Finally, on Thanksgiving day, they made Thonotosassa, and the surveying itself was over.     
     "Well, that ones done, anyways," said Danny Smith to Johnny, who were on their way in from taking final measurements, "All except the cryin' that is...Oh boo-hoo, the surveyin' is only over for a few months, then we gotta do it again.  It weren't as quick as I like it, but quick enough.  For a first timer you did a heck of a job, and I'm proud a'ya."
     Once camp was made it became vacation time for the men, because the Captain needed at least a week, he said, to work on his papers, to make his survey presentable.  Ben helped him, but most of the work was the Captains. 
    The men were quite happy to let the Captain do what he needed to do.  They tramped about through the lushness that surrounded the lake even in winter time, getting to know the few small buildings that were Thonotosassa.  The biggest building by far was the town bar, and the men frequented the place off and on.  The food was nowhere near as good as Cooeys, so Barbarian BBQ stayed the order of the day.  Everybody was now good at BBQ, and knew their way around the cooks tent just fine, because Danny Smiths prophesy had come true. There really were many nights when he was out late, "Pullin' chain and tape", because, believe it or not, other than Ben Grierson, and the Captain, he was the most experienced surveyor on the crew, and by a long shot.  He did a lot of training, and had a way about him that Shane Paruche, and Johnny, and Chuck Stevens knew well and liked.
     "We should make sure 'n go loaded into that little slough we come through on the way here,"  Danny Smith said to Johnny and Shane as they drank beer at the bar. He meant loaded guns.  "Theys turkeys in there or my name ant Danny Smith."
      They had left Chuck Stevens sleeping peacefully in his bunk, figuring he needed his beauty rest, a lot.  
      Everyone had a drink of beer.  Soon it would be time to get back to camp.  The bartender came along and struck up conversation, for what it was worth. 
     "You fellas stayin' around long? he asked, fishing.  He was a tall old bald man with large ears and drooping eyes.  His apron was reasonably clean, and he habitually wiped the bar with a clean white rag.  He already knew they were at the end of a land survey, but none of the details.
     Johnny thought it was pretty bad when the bartender was lonely.
     "Not any longer than we have to sir," said Shane Paruche.  "Should be out of town by this time next week, at the latest. 
     "Oh." said the bartender.  You could almost see the wheels running behind his eyes as he did the math.  "So where to next?" he asked.  This guy was practically starving for conversation.
     Johnny said: "Fort Brooke, and then I will be a short timer.  There won't be any more surveying for me."
     "You didn't say!" said Danny Smith, "You are a rascal Johnny Prestwick!"
     "Well, you haven't even heard the best of it yet," replied Johnny.  He had their attention now, and the bar tender was listening so closely he hardly breathed.
     "I'm going to be a father in a matter of weeks from now.  The baby will be born out of wedlock, but he or she can attend their own parents wedding, not everyone can say that."
     There was bedlam, Danny was slapping him on the back, Shane was shaking his hand so hard it hurt, and the bartender beamed, as if he just knew there was a gold nugget of gossip here somewhere, and like a treasure hunter he had sought it out and FOUND the gold nugget!
    

Chapter Eight

 Saint Julians River 

 Copyright Bill Gallagher

Tampa Florida 

Deming New Mexico
 

 

 

    8.



   
     
     The three men left the Thonotosassa bar by early afternoon, the place was a dud, and that gave them time to lollygag as they made their way back to camp.  Danny had been correct again; three musket shots in the little slough by the lake brought down 2 very large turkeys.  Turkey Bar-B-Q'd well, they all knew.  Pluck 'em, gut 'em, put a stick through 'em, suspend over coals, turn every 10 minutes, heaven.  
     Danny Smith carried the turkeys over his shoulder, by their necks.  The men continued to tramp through the slough, then all of a sudden they were at lakes edge.  Lake Thonotosassa, Stone Lake, spread out before them, and they could see it was really a shallow lake, with sand bars showing offshore in places.  The high water line was visible, but because of these dry years the lake had dropped at least ten vertical feet and most likely more.  Between the old high water line and the water itself there was a white sand beach running around the edge of the lake, ringing it.  This made for easier walking.  Out of habit Johnny looked down as they walked the sand beach, searching.
     Danny said: "Lookit there.  Thems sure some funny looking leaves ain't they?"
     There were sharp pointed things scattered all over the beach just ahead, but they weren't leaves.  Johnny knew what they were, and hurried to the spot.  He began picking up some of the most finely made spearpoints he had ever seen.  There were thousands of them.  They were all different colors, like glass, and every one was perfect.  They all had the same shape too, like triangles, with a little triangle coming off the center of one side, the stem.
     "These aren't leaves Danny, they're spearpoints, here, look."  Johnny held one out to the man and he seemed stunned.  Shane was looking around and doing the hand to pocket action so familiar to anyone who has ever treasure hunted in Florida.
     "Where'd ya 'spose these things come from?" asked Danny, as he too began collecting.  He set the turkeys down on the white sand.
     "From a time before." said Johnny.
     They filled their pockets, and the next day they brought the Captain and Chuckie Stevens back, and they filled boots and bags full of spearpoints, until there were none to be seen.  If they could look forward in time about 80 years they would see that someday a resort hotel would be built on this very spot, advertising in magazines the pleasures of its location, and inviting visitors to walk the lakes edge and fill bucket after bucket with arrowheads.   The whole area of Thonotosassa is like this,  it has to do with a stone mine that the Indians of Florida used for over ten thousand years.  Stone Lake, oh yes.  The flint mine was very nearby, and there was a place on the northwest side of the lake, opposite of the surveyors camp, where two large springs ran to Saint Julians river, and the spearpoints there were even more prevalent than around the lake.  Those would not be discovered for another 100 years, until a later Army Corp Of Engineers started building canals and a train track through the area.  
     Later, these spearpoints would become world renowned among collectors of ancient weaponry.  They would be called Batwing Hillsboroughs, and anyone who is anyone in weaponry knows all about Thonotosassa, and what happened there so long ago.  The rifling effect is manifest on some of Floridas spearpoints, one of the earliest known examples of it.
     In an even farther future advanced numismatists would realize that things like this represented the very earliest beginnings of money.  Stone coinage.  The place had been a mass production mint.  There are many places like that, around all the prehistoric stone mines that ever were.
     

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      Around Tampa the land drops down to the bay, so the trip from Thonotosassa was almost all downhill.  It wasn't a steep downhill trend, mostly it was not discernible, but the horses made effortless time, and the men were not as tired at the end of the day.  They'd come through Jolly Corner but the bar there had burnt down, and just recently by the looks of it, so there was only one thing to do, and that was get back to the fort at Tampa.  It was still some days away, but everyone began drawing into themselves a little more, becoming involved once again in their ongoing personal plans, and the next steps through them, which would separate from everyone elses once they hit Tampa.  
     Johnny expected mail at the fort, though he would not hear about the birth of his child for a month or two, because the new year was still weeks away, the new year being about 9 months from conception.  
     He was given temporary quarters near the river, nice.  He picked up his trunk at the armory.  When he got back to his room there were two envelopes on his bunk, one was the familiar paper from Nancy, and the other one was official looking.  Nancys writing had become somewhat stilted and distracted, though still upbeat.  She said this was going to be a great Christmas and he didn't doubt that one bit.  She wrote about the change of weather and her life on the farm.  Her father had finally gotten over his problems and was acting resigned about the whole thing.  She thought it was because deep inside he was worried.  It was one of the things people cannot escape, worry.  It does no good, except it lets us feel we are doing something in situations where, really, nothing can be done.  It is far more productive to pray, than worry.
    Next Johnny opened the official looking envelope.  Orders to Fort Frank Brook, Esteenhatchee, departure to commence in two days!  Johnny saw the Captains hand in this and he was right.  He saw the Captain that night at the mess hall.  Matthew Gilmour brought his plate to Johnnys table and they talked one last time, before they had to part ways, for awhile at least.  Johnny felt good that he could be useful to the Captain, and he would do whatever it took to keep things right in Esteenhatchee for him.
     "You got the orders John?"
     "Yes sir and thank you."
     "Can you ride a horse?"
     "Yes sir."
     "Good. On the morning of your departure bring this letter to the stables.  You can get there as early as you want.  The horse you will be issued is to be turned in at the stables at the other Fort Brook as soon as you get there. Your trunk will be sent on, so take whatever you need with you.  And here is a letter explaining things to Major Johnson, who I have known a long time and can be trusted.  Finally, a letter for Martin at the boatyard, and a map to my place, look now..." and the Captain showed Johnny how to get to his house in the mangroves, out by Dead Mans Island, where the pirate treasure was found.  They ate as they talked, and when they finished they rose from the table and shook hands.
     "God speed Johnny.  I hope you make it for the babys birth."  
      John Prestwick thought he was very lucky to have a friend like Matthew Gilmour, and he was right.
                                                                

                                                                 ***********************************



    Johnny had to make a trip into Tampa town proper.  He needed to see Liam the Leathersmith about some repairs, and he needed a grocer.
    On his way back to the fort, up pops Lewis, the sharp shooting card player and guide who had broken the news to him about his survey duty, all those months ago. And on the same sidewalk they had met before!  Maybe Lewis lived around here.
     "Hiya there Johnny man, how the devil are ya?"
     "Lewis!  Good to see you sir, we just got back from that surveying up north, and I have orders for Esteenhatchee, I will do my last 4 months there."  Johnny didn't bring up Nancy. Lewis was not the type one divulged personal details to.
     "Esteenhatchee?  Never heard of it."
     "Its a nice place, we went through on the survey.  I think I'll like it.  Say Lewis, I've been looking for lieutenant Reich since we got back, he was my commanding officer when I left, but I can't find him, do you know if he got transferred or something?"
     Lewis laughed out loud and said: "Oh he got transferred all right, he got transferred right to eternity."  Then Lewis told him the story.
     It was in the last couple days of March this year, a freak accident right after sundown, a steam boiler over by carpenter stores exploded.  The lieutenant had been walking right in front of it when it happened.  He was the only injury/fatality.  A freak accident.  Lewis laughed out loud again.  He certainly was a rough one.  Then he said something that made Johnnys scalp tingle:
     "Mayhap 'twere the Faire folk, grantin' someones wish." Lewis winked knowingly. "They found the lieutenents left hand in St. Julians River."
     Johnny was speechless.  Then:
     "Say Lewis, I just bought this goat cheese, but decided I didn't really want it, can you put it to use?"  Lewis said thanks, he would have it for lunch.
     They shook hands and went their separate ways.


                                                         **************************************

     The days flew by and the horse was fast.  It helped that Johnny knew the way.  He did not rest much, he was up, as up as he had ever been.  The sun and the moon criss-crossed the sky and he was a silhouette against them both, coat flapping, head down.  
     Johnny was waiting at the south side of the river when the boatyard crew came to work, and one of the men undid the ferry and took him and the horse across with no delays.  He gave the Captains letter to Martin, and told them all he would be back later to explain things.  
     He and the horse trotted through the gate at Fort Frank Brook in Esteenhatchee early in the morning of December 15, 1838.  The stable master received the horse and showed him some bunks to choose from.  Johnny stowed his gear, got a shower (The boiler was fixed) and clean clothes, then began the walk to Nancys farm.  It was still early but he saw smoke from the chimney and movement inside the house as he approached.  He walked up the porch and knocked on the door.  An older man with vaguely familiar features answered.  
     "Good morning sir, my name is John Prestwick and I am here to see my wife."  Johnny held out his hand and the man slowly took it.
     From behind the man came a cry.  "Johnny!"  She ran into his arms and he held her.  She was heavy with their baby, and he felt a great relief having made it in time for the birth.  He kissed the top of her head, felt his eyes water.
     Everything was all right now.
     All right.
     

Fin

 

Authors Comments

 
 
 
 
                                                                      Saint Julians River
                                                                      Copyright Bill Gallagher
                                                                      Tampa Florida
                                                                      Deming New Mexico
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
FIRST DRAFT
30,300 words
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
                                                                
 
 
     A lot of this book will seem strange, because a lot of it IS strange, at least seeing it from here.  It is very difficult to put ones self in a time before, and to do it right.  In fact it is probably impossible.  Not only was the land and society different, but the people too, much different from the people today.  What we are is largely due to our environment, a very intricate thing, and different for everyone.  I tried to illustrate both the differences, and the common traits among people, across 2 centuries time in the relatively modern world. It took a lot of thought, and I'm haunted by the fact that it cannot be perfect.
     A lot of this book is true, right out of histories and off maps, because I have delved deeply over the years and have amassed a lot of knowledge.  And there are things I know that no one else knows, specific sites, very odd finds, personal informations from people who are dead now...a lot of this is preservation of my knowledge.  I remember being very impressed as a young boy that people took the time to write books and leave what they knew behind.  That alone is the foundation of all my views.  I see it as a positive growth, humanity, even though foolishness abounds.  I try to do what I think is right.  Wish me luck.  With all that in mind, I found glaring mistakes all the way up to the last proof redding (hee-hee), so I am sure there are more, and I am still relatively unclear about the early military ranking system, especially among enlisted men of that time.  Still reading.
      Some very obscure things I know:
      When I found Fort Frank Brook in Steinhatchee Florida it was with intent, and it was also on that day that I met the landowner, a Mr. Cooey.   I was with a metal detecting partner and we had the old township and range map, a survey from the early 1800s, showing the fort and also the spelling ESTEEN-HATCHEE for the river.  Things like that can be gotten from the Architectural and Cartographic Branch Of The National Archives.   
     Mr. Cooey came up behind us in his truck as we drove, because we were unknowingly on his private land.  We were following signs nailed on trees, trying to get to the river.  Mr. Cooey graciously allowed us access to the fort, which had already been metal detected hard, but many good things were still found.  He is a really nice guy.   
     Everyone saw the boiler that blew up.  As far I know I am the only one that sensed what it was.  To the others it was a dastardly blanket of iron trash masking their metal detectors abilities.  To be fair, that type of thing is the rule versus the exception when metal detecting.  You have to see it to believe it, how much trash lies below our feet, everywhere.  I think about the old world, every city and town a tell.   This exploded boiler tank was small pieces of iron in a halo out to about 30 feet, except where it had been stopped by the fort wall.  It was one of the most violent things I have ever seen evidence of.  The metal was rent into tiny pieces and twisted in very abstract ways.  
     I found an 1837 half dime at that fort and a bud found an 1838 half dime. They were pristine.  I know where many of the latrines were located, the forts boundaries, some outlying encampments and storage sheds, and other things, because I metal detected there extensively for years during the 90s, among the planted pines, and those are some of the fondest memories I have of Florida.  I too fell in love with that place.  One cold morning I was there during an extensive mushroom flush, they were popping out of the pine needles as I metal detected, I have never seen anything like that before or since.  Chanterelle looking things.  My last trip there was late summer 2010 and its become houses.  The guys who first detected Fort Frank Brook found it in the 1970s.  Treasure Shack Paul Powell.
    I published some of the 1990s finds in Western and Eastern Treasures Magazine (https://www.treasurehuntingwithbillgallagher.blogspot.com) in my short series there concerning The Scribe The Archivist and The Wise Man.  I am The Scribe, just sayin'.  I published a lot about my Florida metal detecting finds in that magazine during the 70s 80s and 90s, and Lost Treasure magazine from 2013 to 2018.  For any and all interested, I am Liam the Leatherman, in this story.
     The thing about the fort site there in Esteenhatchee/Steinhatchee is that it was leased by paper company interests over the years and commercial pine had been planted there for a long time.  The machines that harvest and replant this cellulose are gigantic, along the lines of the draglines at the phosphate pits, grown trees look like toothpicks, literally.  Anyway, even though I found general areas of interest, the land itself had been turned deeply several times since at least the 50s.  If you have ever seen new rows for planted pine, you understand that sometimes the machines dig 4 feet deep or more.  There was not a lot of in situ stuff at Fort Frank Brook, if any.   Lots of musketballs and some buttons, broken glass.  Nothing like what was screened from Fort George Mercer Brooke in Tampa by our group over the years.  The city of Tampa would dig up pipes or whatever all over downtown, and pile the trash dirt here there everywhere.  The stuff was chock full of very rare military buttons and early American coinage.  I know.  I found lots of it.  Still do.  Archaeologically speaking, this is the true value of the metal detector, salvage, and there is nothing like them.  The info I got from Fort Frank Brook was all that was preserved, as far as I know.  I did hear of a school group out there once who dug a small refuse pit, but I never saw any reports, and I really do doubt they were able to find anything archaeologically intact.   
     No one paid me.  I did it because I love to do it.  And there are many people like me.  We also clean up a lot of trash, and have the pictures to prove it.
     Rattlesnake Florida was a very early carny town just south of Gandy boulevard on Westshore.  Saint Julian is also a patron saint of Carnival Workers, one more interesting little datum.  The Gadsen point rattlesnake issue was quite a thing during the opening of Macdill AFB, everybody got handguns because of the snakes, and I personally witnessed the bi-yearly rattlesnake migrations across the Gadsen Peninsula, during my years at the Class A Hot Spot P70, Macdill AFB 1978-81.  The largest rattler I ever had the misfortune to see up close and personal was in excess of six feet and really fat, a lethal piece of electricity that could shock you to death with one bite.  Whip tongues.  Mr. No Shoulders.
     All the information about spear points and flint working is true, even the buckets of them found around Thonotosassa.  I once had the very early advertisement for the hotel on the lakes edge at Thonotosassa, inviting people to come and stay and collect buckets of arrowheads along the lake shore.  Someone gave me a box of research stuff, it was in there.
     I am still an avid collector of Florida archaic and paleo spear points and have been since a teenager.  I discovered them in ditches on Macdill AFB during my tour of duty there.   That is one way I know about the port at the end of Gadsen point (Now a golf course and Radar Squadron) and also about Big Spring, which became a garbage dump for the base in the 1970s.  I have visited all those sites many times.  At Big Spring we found beveled Bolen spear points, some of the first examples of the rifling effect.         
    The old Harris Grove paleo/archaic/woodland Native American site was along 301 at Stacy road, the Corp of Engineers went in there in the 1920s and 30s and dug canals for rail.  They went through a nexus camp that was at least ten thousand years old, it was the age-old river access the natives used to get to the famous stone mine.  There were four waterways all together, Lake Thonotosassa, Flint Creek, Saint Julians/Hillsborough river, and a defunct spring complex near Stacy road which ran to the river.  Some of this land became county land and is used for road department stuff now.  Delta Asphalt and Paving along 301 was just south of the above site.  There, high grade construction sand was mined from ice age and archaic dunes for many years, the dunes became deep pits, the earliest paleo hearths were found around 23 feet.  That sand was totally loaded with chert and agate spear points of great age.  I used to follow the dump trucks so I could collect at the dumping sites after rains.
     I have found beautiful spear points in peoples footprints, many times, therefore it is not safe to think that things of this beauty and value would surely be noticed by most people, in fact the very opposite is true.  People seem to be most interested in directing and producing their own reality tv shows, the ones in their minds, and they miss many interesting things.  A shame.
     Except for the official personages, the characters of the book and the survey crew are fabrications.  I used real historic names when I could, especially place names,  like the Fort Brook(e)s, and Gadsen, but I invented the immediate characters.   I tried hard to imagine them as products of their time.   The ways that people communicate change at a rapid pace, but what is actually communicated, a lot of that stays the same.   As well, lifespan is and was a major factor.  Many things were more frenetic in the past.  Just the physical exercise of getting around has changed drastically, among all the other things.
     I studied a kaleidoscope of subjects over the last 45 years (My adulthood), and was fortunate enough to survive those years too, and that is from where this book is written.  Devils Garden is still there today, north of Okeechobee, but not in the place where I put it.  Really, there were many Devils Gardens in early Florida, and to the early explorers who died here, I am sure the whole place was one vast Devils Garden.           
     I got a fair amount of my information from early maps of Florida.  Many even show individual homesteads and small encampments from that time period.  Some of my place names come from the Celi map of the 1700s, it shows all the oldest Spanish terms for everything.  The first mission in Tampa was up the Rio San Julian y Arriaga quite a good ways, St. Theresa, near where Buffalo Boulevard crosses the Hillsborough now.  I have visited that site many times too, though it is under houses in a wealthy riverside neighborhood now.   
     At that place there are ghosts everywhere.
      
 
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