Finally!

A few hours later with the Sandflea at a safe height above the trees and out of the Blue Ridge Mountains proper, her crew gathered round their captain to discuss their next move.
“Time for a confabulation, y’all! Thanks to all this mysterious nonsense goin’ on, we need a new plan.”
“What was our plan to begin with?” asked Harry.
Kennia snorted. “Try staying awake during briefings!”
“I just pilot this bird, I don’t decide where to take her. Just go whichever direction y’all point to.”
“Check-in with the Catawbas, then east to contact the Cheraws and a longer stopover when we come to Tuscarora territory. After that due south till we hit Charleston,” answered Tira.
Captain Willie responded, “First we continue to Catawba territory as scheduled. Maybe they’ve heard something.”
“Sometime soon we’ve got to stop for maintenance. Wouldn’t do to fall out of the sky at the wrong moment,” said Harry.
“What would be the right moment?” snickered Kennia.

Headin' on out

(note Gentle Reader that this is actually July's story post so you can expect another one for August as well)

Several hours later,  the crew heard their captain hollering for them as he headed back up the trail. Finally! They were more than glad to head southeast and out of the mountains with their treacherous gusts and eddies.

After climbing up the rope ladder and entering through the hatch, Captain Willie was not a happy man. Clearly the intelligence he’d received from Captain Chavis had not pleased him.
“Harry? Harry! I need that damn navigator now!” snapped the captain. Where is that sorry-ass fellow? Ain’t seen hardly hide nor hair of him this entire trip!”
“In the cockpit taking a nap. Old Toby is sitting in his favourite hammock. I’ll prod him awake.” Kennia headed towards the small cockpit. 
“What’s the plan now, Captain?”
“The plan is that we ain’t nosing around any more, that’s the plan! We’re gonna pick-up some speed and head back to Charleston, that’s the plan. And we’ve gotta keep both eyes open the whole time while we’re at it. I am awful tired of being pinned in and I want open sky as soon as possible, understand?”

“What about the little, smelly man?”
“Eh, what the hell are you talking about?”
“Our passenger. The one taking up space and contributing nothing.”
“He is a right pain, Captain”
“Oh, yeah, right. Guess we got to set him down somewhere. Can’t just chuck him out the hatch. Reckon he’ll be ok if we leave him at the next Trading Post. He can go on by foot from there to where ever. I ‘m all for gettin’ the hell outa these mountains before we break something!”

Carolina Foodways: Okra Gumbo

OKRA  GUMBO

2 tbl corn oil (or other cooking oil without a strong flavor)
1 medium onion, finely chopped
1 green bell pepper, chopped
2 celery stalks, chopped
1 cup chicken stock (or from bouillon cubes)
4 large tomatoes, peeled and chopped (or use 1 can crushed tomatoes)
½ lb sliced okra (I have to use canned because okra is scarce in Sweden!)
2 or 3 cloves garlic, sliced
2 good shakes Worchestershire sauce
1-2 bay leaves
pinch of cayenne pepper
salt and black pepper to taste

Saute the vegetables in the corn oil until soft (about 3 minutes) and then add the chicken stock, okra, seasonings and tomatoes. Lower the heat and simmer with the lid askew.  Serve with long-grain rice.

*** I usually add chopped chicken meat to the stew while it is simmering. This is a good way to use left-over  chicken but you can use seafood or fish instead. Or you can use vegetable broth and leave-out the meat for a vegetarian version. Sharwood makes a Worcestershire sauce that does NOT include fish. ***

And look what they are eating in Ghana: 
Light Okra Soup with Chicken

And for more information buy, beg or borrow In the Shadow of Slavery: Africa’s Botanical Legacy in the Atlantic World by Judith Carney and Richard Nicholas Rosomoff

Meanwhile. . .

Back at the Sandflea, Old Toby was getting crankier (not to mention smellier) by the minute. Unfortunately for him, neither Kennia nor Tira were particularly sympathetic to his complaints.

“I’m gettin’ mighty tired of your moaning and groaning. Stuff it or you can walk back”
“I’m hungry” he whined. “And I don’t have no place to walk back to anyways.”
“Then you’d best not be too much of an aggravation to us, wouldn’t you say?”
“All I want is to get outa this airship and go someplace civilized. And I ain’t had a smoke in days practically.”
“Or a bath in years” snorted Tira. In all fairness she managed to remain impeccably groomed no matter the crisis. “You are awful demanding for a man who has nothing going for him.” She turned and walked away, not easily since the Sandflea’s interior was anything but spacious.

Kennia followed  her crewmate until they had walked as far away as possible and then whispered, “You know we can’t keep him stashed in that hammock for all eternity. We’ve gotta let him go before he stinks up the whole airship.”
“Too late if you ask me,” snickered Tira. “Fix him up some stew. At least he can’t say that we are starving him.”
“Captain should be back soon and  I say we pressure him for answers.” Kennia shrugged and headed towards the Sandflea’s tiny excuse for a galley while Tira turned back to Old Toby.

“Say, what’ve you got against Indians anyway?”
“I ain’t got nothin’ against ‘em. I just try to stay away from them.”
“Yeah, cause you don’t like ‘em.”
He shrugged. “You think what you wanna. Matter ain’t got nothin’ to do with you. Now leave me in peace. I got no quarrel with you least ways.”

Meta

My initial plan was to post once a week, maybe a story chapter or maybe some history or ethnology, etc. Realistically, I seem to manage 1 story chapter a month so that's the plan from now on. At the same time I plan on posting one "other" type post a month as well.

BTW, feel free to comment!!! What would you like to see more of for example? And are the Swedes who come here just looking for my  Vänsterpartiblogg or do some of y'all stay and read about South Carolina?!!!

Uneasy times

He looked somewhat disdainfully at the them both and said, “Captain Chavis will meet with you now. Assuming of course that you two are finished with your sartorial discourse.” Captain Willie suspected he saw a slight smirk on the man’s face as he turned away but he could have been mistaken.

The wooden fort contained more of the same inside. Same log walls, log cabins, wooden benches made from sturdy hardwood. Captain Willie followed his guide into one of the larger cabins where Captain Chavis awaited them. He was somewhat stout and smoked a pipe but otherwise was dressed much the same as his men in tunic and leggings. He strode towards Captain Willie, hand extended.
“Ah, you must be the new courier we were told to expect.”
Captain Willie shrugged, “Courier, taxi service, postal service, conveyor of packages both large and small.”
“I see,” although Captain Chavis clearly didn’t. “Please join us and dine. Then we can discuss your business.” He gestured towards a fairly large table across the room from the open door.
“This is my lieutenant, Martin Turner,” mentioned Captain Chavis.
The tall indian then took a seat at the table as the two captains each settled into a chair.

First they ate a hearty meal of bean bread, apple cobbler and venison. Captain Willie knew from long experience that there was no point in trying to hurry the process. Besides, this was his second “home cooked” meal in two days!. The Sandflea had tinned and dried foods and not much variety in them. Why not make the most of the opportunity?

“That was real good, y’all. Now let’s down to some business. Maybe you can tell me if you Cherokee have seen some weird goings on?”
“Tsalagi”
“Huh? What’s that? Somethin’ you’ve run-across in the woods?”
“Tsalagi is our name for ourselves. Cherokee is the name outsiders use.”
“You don’t say. Really? Somebody might of told me. Didn’t mean to be rude,” said Captain Willie.
“Yeah, we’ve seen a few things. And Captain Ross wouldn’t have taken her ship this far into the mountains without a damn good reason.”
“Funny, that’s what she said about the Virginian ship,” remarked Captain Willie.
Captain Chavis hmmphed his agreement but his companion was slightly more communicative.
“What do you think is goin’ on?”
“No notion and that’s what makes me twitchy. I don’t know what to expect. Don’t even know what to watch out for. We’re headin’ southeast down to the coast and then southwards to Charleston. And I aim to keep a real sharp eye on the border while I’m at it.”
“We’ve had reports from almost all our scouts that have noticed oddities. The remains of campfires where none of us have reason to build them. Abandoned hunting blinds where one of us would not normally be hunting. No signs of a sucessful hunt either. We patrol more often now and perhaps that has settled the matter. Even so, we caution all our folk to stay close to home and not to go alone to gather wild plants in the woods.”

Finally!

The Captain waved at the two guards lounging at the Border Station compound as soon as he came into their line of vision. He knew they were suspicious of strangers and figured there was no point in putting them more on edge while they were already concerned about shady activities in the area.

“Hey y’all! I’m Willie James, captain of the Sandflea airship. I’m here to catch-up on news with y’all.”

Two men stood outside the fort’s front gate with the shorter one leaning against the left-side gatepost. Both men were dressed similarly in long cotton-print shirts belted at the waistline, bandoleers and gaiter-leggings. One wore red leggings and the other brown, each fastened with colourful woven bands.

As he came closer one of the guards looked at Captain Willie and then silently turned on his heel and entered the compound . The other, shorter man continued standing where he was without offering any particular greeting as Captain Willie approached.

“We’ve been expecting you, “ he said.
“Yeah, well we a bit delayed so to speak. That’s what I need to talk to y’all about. There’s some weird shit goin’ on and I reckon y’all know more about it than I do.”
“Why’s that? You’re the one with that fancy airship. Why don’t ya just fly-up real high and check things out from above?”
“Not a bad idea at all except that all we’d see around here is treetops. Besides the air currents aren’t too friendly in these mountains.”
“Yeah.”
“When’s your friend comin’ back and lettin’ me in the fort?”
“Soon.”
“What’s your name anyway?”
“Little John.”
“Nah, really. Like in Robin Hood?”
“Yes, really. And no, nothing to do with Robin Hood. Do I look like a Merry Man to you?” The Captain was forced to agree that he didn’t and they waited in silence for a while.

“Nice turban,” he said to break the silence and pointed at the aforementioned headgear. That prompted a smile from Little John.
The shorter man nodded at Captain Willie’s moccasins. “You tryin’ to play Indian or somethin’?”
“Naw, you try climbing up and down a rope ladder in hard-soled shoes!”

At that point the second Indian returned.