Usual disclaimers. I hate disclaimers, but you know what they are. pah!
Some Indians for Starlight8!
***
Mid-February (a month earlier)
Jack wiped a grimy hand across his face, only making himself even blacker - not that it mattered in this cold dark hell that some might call a coal mine. At least those confined with him in the lower shafts spoke English, some quite well. They were Native Indians, Chickasaw Indians that had sided with the English against the French in the current battles for supremacy in the region. The French controlled much of the north, Canada and the like, plus a wide swathe on either side of the Mississippi River whilst the English were mainly on the eastern coast. The English had been providing the tribes with weapons to fight against the French, but many warriors had been taken. The strongest often end up in the mine, worked until they died from exhaustion, due to the devil's pact between the Commander of the French fort and Louis Lact.
"Crazy Bird - eat!" One of the Indians handed Jack a bowl of disgusting gruel that had just been delivered. He thought it was Little Feather, their leader, but he could not tell - such was the darkness and the dirt.
"Thanks!" After looking at the contents of the bowl in the dim light he wasn't so sure about the words though. He shut his eyes and ate, gagging at the taste.
Little Feather smiled as he ate. "It gets better after the first month or so. you get used to it," he offered.
Jack handed him back the bowl. "Guess I'm not as hungry as I thought after all."
Little Feather shrugged, tucking into the remainder of Jack's food. "You should eat this if you ever want to escape."
"How can I escape? I can hardly see m' hand in front of m' face an' I don't even know where here is!"
"The French call it Fort Assumption."
Jack shook his head, beads jangling in the darkness. "Never heard of it mate!"
"On the Mississippi."
"Ah, I've heard of that!" Jack grinned. "So it is a case of find th' river an' head south!"
"You should head east."
"But home is south!"
"But the French are south!" Little Feather frowned. "Although we have to escape first."
"We just have t' wait for th' opportune moment mate!"
"Will someone come for you?"
Jack sighed, his expression distant. "Aye, she will come!"
"A woman?" Little Feather gasped in disbelief.
"My wife!" he smiled. "My small, crazy wife!" He closed his eyes, visualising her. "I know she will come. I just know it!"
Some Indians for Starlight8!
***
Mid-February (a month earlier)
Jack wiped a grimy hand across his face, only making himself even blacker - not that it mattered in this cold dark hell that some might call a coal mine. At least those confined with him in the lower shafts spoke English, some quite well. They were Native Indians, Chickasaw Indians that had sided with the English against the French in the current battles for supremacy in the region. The French controlled much of the north, Canada and the like, plus a wide swathe on either side of the Mississippi River whilst the English were mainly on the eastern coast. The English had been providing the tribes with weapons to fight against the French, but many warriors had been taken. The strongest often end up in the mine, worked until they died from exhaustion, due to the devil's pact between the Commander of the French fort and Louis Lact.
"Crazy Bird - eat!" One of the Indians handed Jack a bowl of disgusting gruel that had just been delivered. He thought it was Little Feather, their leader, but he could not tell - such was the darkness and the dirt.
"Thanks!" After looking at the contents of the bowl in the dim light he wasn't so sure about the words though. He shut his eyes and ate, gagging at the taste.
Little Feather smiled as he ate. "It gets better after the first month or so. you get used to it," he offered.
Jack handed him back the bowl. "Guess I'm not as hungry as I thought after all."
Little Feather shrugged, tucking into the remainder of Jack's food. "You should eat this if you ever want to escape."
"How can I escape? I can hardly see m' hand in front of m' face an' I don't even know where here is!"
"The French call it Fort Assumption."
Jack shook his head, beads jangling in the darkness. "Never heard of it mate!"
"On the Mississippi."
"Ah, I've heard of that!" Jack grinned. "So it is a case of find th' river an' head south!"
"You should head east."
"But home is south!"
"But the French are south!" Little Feather frowned. "Although we have to escape first."
"We just have t' wait for th' opportune moment mate!"
"Will someone come for you?"
Jack sighed, his expression distant. "Aye, she will come!"
"A woman?" Little Feather gasped in disbelief.
"My wife!" he smiled. "My small, crazy wife!" He closed his eyes, visualising her. "I know she will come. I just know it!"