Read Online Mississippi Jack: Being an Account of the Further Waterborne Adventures of Jacky Faber, Midshipman, Fine Lady, and Lily of the West by L. A. Meyer - Free Book Online
Authors: L. A. Meyer
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would, but I spoke the truth only up to a certain point. Actually, upon finding you, I intend, honorably, to haul you up in front of the nearest preacher, or what passes for a preacher out in this godforsaken wilderness, say the words, and then find a bed or convenient patch of grass, strip you of your garments, lay you down on your back, and again, honorably, finally and completely consummate our union. I have waited and suffered long enough.
That is sufficient for now. Suffice to say, there will be portions of this letter that will not be read to the children. Especially to the girls.
I have made the acquaintance this evening of two fine gentlemen who are traveling the same road as I, who pronounce themselves knowledgeable in the highways and byways of this region, and tomorrow we shall travel together. I took dinner with them, actually, and they proved most amiable. They are a Mr. McCoy and a Mr. Beatty. I am sure they will be pleasant and informative company as I continue on my journey.
Till we meet again in joyous congress, I am,
Your Most Obedient and etc.,
Jaimy
Chapter 7
Once again we saddle up for another day of travel. As Katy settles in behind me, I ask, "Your uncle. On your farm. Should you not approach that very carefully? After all, it could be dangerous, and while we are well armed, well..."
"Don't worry, Jacky, I'll scout it out some, believe me."
"Maybe instead of killing him outright, maybe you could bring him up on charges? Get him sent to prison or something?"
"Ain't the way it's done out here. Ain't much law out where we're headed, and what there is of it tends to hang around the towns. 'Sides, he'd have the law on his side, him bein' a man with property and me bein' a penniless girl. Huh! Ain't no prisons, neither. If you're guilty of somethin', it's either the noose or whippin' or banishment, and that's it."
She settles into the rhythm of the ride, satisfied with her lot for now. She has fashioned a quiver out of the leftover leather and she wears it over her right shoulder so that her new arrows are right at her command should she need them. She still wears her white headband.
We stop at noon for what we think will be refreshment at a very small wayside general store, hardly more than a hovel that has a porch with some barrels on it, but we can find no one there. Mystified and somewhat disappointed, we push wearily on.
"Jim," I say. "Ride up ahead and see what awaits us."
Jim eagerly puts his heels to his horse and leaves the rest of us sluggards in the dust. I would join him, but we cannot push these two horses too hard, since they bear heavier loads than does Jim's lucky nag.
We grumble along a bit more, saddle sore and hungry, for an hour or so, when Jim comes pounding back.
"Missy! There's a big tent in the middle of a field up ahead and to the right! And there's tons of people there!"
We spur on our reluctant mounts and eventually come to the spot Jim described.
Katy takes one look and says, "Huh! Revival meetin'."
We gaze down on the spectacle. The huge tent has its front and side flaps open, the weather being mild and the crowd being big. I'm amazed to see so many people, since we have spied so few on our way here.
Inside the tent I can see a stage, and on it is a preacher shaking his fist and roaring at the congregation. I cannot make out his words, but I can surely pick up on the religious fervor with which he delivers them. So can the crowd. They sway back and forth like people in a trance, like people transported to another realm.
"He's pretty good," says Katy, plainly familiar with such revival meetings. "I ain't seen him before, but he's good. He's got 'em goin'."
"Let's rest here," I say, dismounting by throwing my leg over the horse's neck, Katy being behind me. We all slide off and go to sit in the shade of a tree to watch.
The preacher has slipped from his harangue into a hymn, and the crowd picks up on it with fervor.
Oh come, Angel Band,
Come and around me
That is sufficient for now. Suffice to say, there will be portions of this letter that will not be read to the children. Especially to the girls.
I have made the acquaintance this evening of two fine gentlemen who are traveling the same road as I, who pronounce themselves knowledgeable in the highways and byways of this region, and tomorrow we shall travel together. I took dinner with them, actually, and they proved most amiable. They are a Mr. McCoy and a Mr. Beatty. I am sure they will be pleasant and informative company as I continue on my journey.
Till we meet again in joyous congress, I am,
Your Most Obedient and etc.,
Jaimy
Chapter 7
Once again we saddle up for another day of travel. As Katy settles in behind me, I ask, "Your uncle. On your farm. Should you not approach that very carefully? After all, it could be dangerous, and while we are well armed, well..."
"Don't worry, Jacky, I'll scout it out some, believe me."
"Maybe instead of killing him outright, maybe you could bring him up on charges? Get him sent to prison or something?"
"Ain't the way it's done out here. Ain't much law out where we're headed, and what there is of it tends to hang around the towns. 'Sides, he'd have the law on his side, him bein' a man with property and me bein' a penniless girl. Huh! Ain't no prisons, neither. If you're guilty of somethin', it's either the noose or whippin' or banishment, and that's it."
She settles into the rhythm of the ride, satisfied with her lot for now. She has fashioned a quiver out of the leftover leather and she wears it over her right shoulder so that her new arrows are right at her command should she need them. She still wears her white headband.
We stop at noon for what we think will be refreshment at a very small wayside general store, hardly more than a hovel that has a porch with some barrels on it, but we can find no one there. Mystified and somewhat disappointed, we push wearily on.
"Jim," I say. "Ride up ahead and see what awaits us."
Jim eagerly puts his heels to his horse and leaves the rest of us sluggards in the dust. I would join him, but we cannot push these two horses too hard, since they bear heavier loads than does Jim's lucky nag.
We grumble along a bit more, saddle sore and hungry, for an hour or so, when Jim comes pounding back.
"Missy! There's a big tent in the middle of a field up ahead and to the right! And there's tons of people there!"
We spur on our reluctant mounts and eventually come to the spot Jim described.
Katy takes one look and says, "Huh! Revival meetin'."
We gaze down on the spectacle. The huge tent has its front and side flaps open, the weather being mild and the crowd being big. I'm amazed to see so many people, since we have spied so few on our way here.
Inside the tent I can see a stage, and on it is a preacher shaking his fist and roaring at the congregation. I cannot make out his words, but I can surely pick up on the religious fervor with which he delivers them. So can the crowd. They sway back and forth like people in a trance, like people transported to another realm.
"He's pretty good," says Katy, plainly familiar with such revival meetings. "I ain't seen him before, but he's good. He's got 'em goin'."
"Let's rest here," I say, dismounting by throwing my leg over the horse's neck, Katy being behind me. We all slide off and go to sit in the shade of a tree to watch.
The preacher has slipped from his harangue into a hymn, and the crowd picks up on it with fervor.
Oh come, Angel Band,
Come and around me
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