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 Page B
Authors: L. A. Meyer
Ads: Link
but I always got it done. Once, we lost a day's travel when I was begged to visit a house in a small village, far up a side road, to paint the portrait of a bride who had died the night before her wedding. She was laid out in her bridal gown and turned slightly to the side in her coffin so as to look more natural for me to paint. I, of course, was shattered, but managed to paint the portrait for the sake of the bridegroom, who sat by her side the whole time I painted.
So we paid our way west as best we could.
The stores began to get farther and farther between as well, so we got what we could get when we could get it. We bought a tent and blankets. We loaded up on powder, balls, and caps. We bought a small-bore rifle, a German-made carbine, for Jim, of which he is most proud. He has practiced and become quite accurate with it. Katy was offered a similar one but declined, preferring her simple bow, which had proved so deadly on the
Bloodhound.
She, however, did accept a gift of a fine knife. Upon seeing me disrobe that first night, and spying my leather arm sheath that held my shiv under my sleeve, there for ready use, she opined that it was a fine thing, and so we also bought some leather and an awl and some waxed cord, and soon she had a rig similar to mine under her own sleeve. She has used the knife to begin fashioning more arrows for her newly made leather quiver.
As we crossed into Pennsylvania, with night coming on, we pitched the tent and made camp. Higgins, bless him, has grown very proficient in setting up the damned thing, which fought us every step of the way when we first tried to set it up in a pouring rain.
Jim's rifle brought us two brace of fat squirrels, and we skinned and roasted them over an open campfire. We ate them with some bread we had left over from our last stay at a farmhouse, and it was good. Could have done with a spot of wine, though.
Now, girl, come on. You've gotten too soft with all that high living on the
Bloodhound,
it seems. Toughen up, now.
Higgins has adapted to this rough life in fine form, managing to make a meal of roasted squirrel seem like something served in the finest houses.
Tomorrow we will get to the vicinity of Katy's farm and we will have to see how things work out there. Killing her uncle and all. We'll see.
When it came time for sleep, all of us crawled into the tent and got under the blankets. Higgins tried to keep order, but in the morning, Jim Tanner somehow ended up with his nose in my neck hair and his arm about my waist.
I don't mind, though. I hate sleeping alone.
Chapter 10
James Fletcher, Idiot & Fool
Naked & facedown in the dirt
Somewhere in the American Wilderness
My Dearest Jacky,
It is well said that we sailors have no business on land, as we are easy prey to the designs of landsmen, curse them all to Hell, and I am afraid I proved myself easier prey than youâdespite your diminutive size and gentle natureâever did.
I do not remember much about that day, but I do remember setting outâfull of hope, in anticipation of our imminent reunionâwith Mr. McCoy and Mr. Beatty, who represented themselves as honest merchants dealing in dry goods and notions, and who turned out to be dealing in something else entirely.
As we rode along, I talked freely and ardently about you and your party up ahead, and they jollied me along, getting all the information they could out of me, assuring me that we should come upon you at any moment. After we traveled some miles through the forest, we stopped by a clear stream to water our horses and refresh ourselves. As I knelt by the stream to cup some water to drink, I felt a shadow fall upon me, and then that's all I clearly sensed for a long, long time. I know now that either McCoy or Beatty had come up behind me and brought a bludgeon down on the back of my head.
I fell face-first into the stream, instantly and totally senseless. I suspect that the shock of the cold water brought me partially back to my
So we paid our way west as best we could.
The stores began to get farther and farther between as well, so we got what we could get when we could get it. We bought a tent and blankets. We loaded up on powder, balls, and caps. We bought a small-bore rifle, a German-made carbine, for Jim, of which he is most proud. He has practiced and become quite accurate with it. Katy was offered a similar one but declined, preferring her simple bow, which had proved so deadly on the
Bloodhound.
She, however, did accept a gift of a fine knife. Upon seeing me disrobe that first night, and spying my leather arm sheath that held my shiv under my sleeve, there for ready use, she opined that it was a fine thing, and so we also bought some leather and an awl and some waxed cord, and soon she had a rig similar to mine under her own sleeve. She has used the knife to begin fashioning more arrows for her newly made leather quiver.
As we crossed into Pennsylvania, with night coming on, we pitched the tent and made camp. Higgins, bless him, has grown very proficient in setting up the damned thing, which fought us every step of the way when we first tried to set it up in a pouring rain.
Jim's rifle brought us two brace of fat squirrels, and we skinned and roasted them over an open campfire. We ate them with some bread we had left over from our last stay at a farmhouse, and it was good. Could have done with a spot of wine, though.
Now, girl, come on. You've gotten too soft with all that high living on the
Bloodhound,
it seems. Toughen up, now.
Higgins has adapted to this rough life in fine form, managing to make a meal of roasted squirrel seem like something served in the finest houses.
Tomorrow we will get to the vicinity of Katy's farm and we will have to see how things work out there. Killing her uncle and all. We'll see.
When it came time for sleep, all of us crawled into the tent and got under the blankets. Higgins tried to keep order, but in the morning, Jim Tanner somehow ended up with his nose in my neck hair and his arm about my waist.
I don't mind, though. I hate sleeping alone.
Chapter 10
James Fletcher, Idiot & Fool
Naked & facedown in the dirt
Somewhere in the American Wilderness
My Dearest Jacky,
It is well said that we sailors have no business on land, as we are easy prey to the designs of landsmen, curse them all to Hell, and I am afraid I proved myself easier prey than youâdespite your diminutive size and gentle natureâever did.
I do not remember much about that day, but I do remember setting outâfull of hope, in anticipation of our imminent reunionâwith Mr. McCoy and Mr. Beatty, who represented themselves as honest merchants dealing in dry goods and notions, and who turned out to be dealing in something else entirely.
As we rode along, I talked freely and ardently about you and your party up ahead, and they jollied me along, getting all the information they could out of me, assuring me that we should come upon you at any moment. After we traveled some miles through the forest, we stopped by a clear stream to water our horses and refresh ourselves. As I knelt by the stream to cup some water to drink, I felt a shadow fall upon me, and then that's all I clearly sensed for a long, long time. I know now that either McCoy or Beatty had come up behind me and brought a bludgeon down on the back of my head.
I fell face-first into the stream, instantly and totally senseless. I suspect that the shock of the cold water brought me partially back to my
Similar Books
