Back at the Distribution Office Captain Willie James was once more headed down the interminable corridors leading to the boss’ office. In the main office, Mrs. Jackson, who was not at all pleased at the appellation “Ole Lady” and preferred to be addressed as “ma’am,” was seated at her desk. “Good to see you, Captain. Have a seat.” She gestured vaguely in the direction of a lumpy armchair clad in brown leather.
“Now I know that y’all can’t be meaning to send us out again so soon after we just got back. We ain’t hardly had time to rest-up or nothin’.”
“Nothing of the sort. This is just a chance to relay some news. We have some additional reports from our contacts at the Shawnee Nation. They had no definite news but have seen some suspicious behaviour on the part of so-called farmers.”
The Captain shrugged. “I don’t know nothin’ about farmin’ so I don’t see what I can do here. You got some bad guys that needs shootin’, then I’m your man.”
“No farming is required, thankfully, and we would prefer to avoid the shooting as well. Although I am aware that is not always possible. To get to the matter at hand, though, the Shawnee have discovered a some questionable activities along one of their borders and currently are monitoring the situation. They gave permission to a group of farmers to settle in an empty valley in the Blue Ridge Mountains but now they suspect that these settlers are up to more than they let on. The Shawnee will send more information as they collect it. You and your crew need to be ready to fly at a moment’s notice.”
“We always are!”
Mrs. Jackson nodded “Glad to hear that” as she waved the Captain towards the office door.
“Now that was a big, fat waste of my time” muttered the Captain to himself on the way out of the building. “Just what does she think we do all day?”
********************************
Indeed, a few days later in an isolated mountain valley, the young man, Hans, was preparing the wagon so that he could ride back to the Trading Post and fetch the bags of flour. Poor Hans was eager to remedy his earlier nervous mistakes by appearing completely nonchalant as he completed his task. He took the trail slowly since the wagon was none so sturdy and he didn't want to break an axle. This gave him plenty of time for reflection since at his slow pace the journey from the settlement to the Trading Post took almost two hours. He hitched the horses out front and ambled into the Trading Post.
A modern recreation of an old Country Store or Trading Post.
“Now I know that y’all can’t be meaning to send us out again so soon after we just got back. We ain’t hardly had time to rest-up or nothin’.”
“Nothing of the sort. This is just a chance to relay some news. We have some additional reports from our contacts at the Shawnee Nation. They had no definite news but have seen some suspicious behaviour on the part of so-called farmers.”
The Captain shrugged. “I don’t know nothin’ about farmin’ so I don’t see what I can do here. You got some bad guys that needs shootin’, then I’m your man.”
“No farming is required, thankfully, and we would prefer to avoid the shooting as well. Although I am aware that is not always possible. To get to the matter at hand, though, the Shawnee have discovered a some questionable activities along one of their borders and currently are monitoring the situation. They gave permission to a group of farmers to settle in an empty valley in the Blue Ridge Mountains but now they suspect that these settlers are up to more than they let on. The Shawnee will send more information as they collect it. You and your crew need to be ready to fly at a moment’s notice.”
“We always are!”
Mrs. Jackson nodded “Glad to hear that” as she waved the Captain towards the office door.
“Now that was a big, fat waste of my time” muttered the Captain to himself on the way out of the building. “Just what does she think we do all day?”
********************************
Indeed, a few days later in an isolated mountain valley, the young man, Hans, was preparing the wagon so that he could ride back to the Trading Post and fetch the bags of flour. Poor Hans was eager to remedy his earlier nervous mistakes by appearing completely nonchalant as he completed his task. He took the trail slowly since the wagon was none so sturdy and he didn't want to break an axle. This gave him plenty of time for reflection since at his slow pace the journey from the settlement to the Trading Post took almost two hours. He hitched the horses out front and ambled into the Trading Post.
A modern recreation of an old Country Store or Trading Post.
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