Saturday, March 28, 2015
NEW RELEASE: HIDDEN TRAILS-- AND A GIVEAWAY! by CHERYL PIERSON
I’ve got a new release that hit the shelves last month! Hidden Trails is my latest western historical novella. This was a fun little novella to work on because it was something I hadn't dealt with before. Though I write a lot of stories with heroes who are of mixed heritage--half white/half Indian, or half white/half Hispanic, I've never written a story with a heroine quite like Valentine Reneau.
Valentine's mother was a slave, a beautiful octoroon, whose cruel master sold her off in a fit of drunken pique--luckily for her! She is able to marry and make a new life for herself, but there is always the uneasy fear that her former owner might find her--even though the Civil War has ended, and she is free. When Valentine is old enough to understand, her stepfather explains it to her, and so begins her burden of constantly looking over her shoulder, as well.
Now that Valentine's on her own, she has to protect herself. The old fear is there, and it's very real. But Valentine isn't alone any longer.
Levi Connor rides into her life with a bullet in his leg, half dead from cold, hunger and blood loss. Once Valentine saves him, will he ride on, or will he stay and help her face her nightmare-turned-reality--the man she must acknowledge as her father?
Valentine intrigues me because I don't know where she came from in my imagination. I "met" her walking along the road in the blizzard, carrying a wounded collie pup. I just knew she was the one for Levi. Have you ever read a story with an unlikely love match that stuck in your mind? I always am curious about what makes one person fall madly in love with another--especially when the odds are stacked against them.
There's lots of excitement and action—and hope for new love in this novella! Leave a comment to be entered to win a copy of HIDDEN TRAILS today!
BLURB:
Levi Connor has never run from anything in his life, and he doesn’t intend to start now. After killing the two bandits who’d followed him into Indian Territory, he finds himself wounded and riding through a blinding February snowstorm. With no purpose ahead of him and no past to guide him, he discovers a reason to exist—the beautiful mixed-blood girl who takes him in and heals him.
Valentine Reneau lives in fear that her father will find her someday in the heart of Indian Territory and force her to return to Mississippi to take her mother’s place—in every way. She knows her time has run out when a stranger shows up on her land with two hired guns—and the devil in his plans.
With some unlikely help, Valentine must try to escape the slave’s fate that her mother left behind so many years before. Will Levi kill for a woman he barely knows? The chips are down, the guns blaze, and everything finally comes clear along these HIDDEN TRAILS…but who’ll be left alive?
EXCERPT:
She pulled the covers away so she could see his leg. Without saying anything more, she took the lantern from the nightstand and turned up the wick, holding it close to the wound.
“I better get to this,” she said under her breath. Then, she glanced up to meet his gaze. “How long have you been carrying this bullet? And what are you running from?”
Levi grimaced as she turned her attention back to the wound and prodded at it.
“Three days. And I ain’t runnin’, ma’am. A Connor don’t run.”
“And you are a Connor, I take it?”
“Levi Connor. Didn’t get a chance to introduce myself earlier,” he muttered, letting go a sharp breath as she laid a warm, wet cloth over the wound.
“Need to get it cleaned up,” she said. “I don’t want to hurt you, but it can’t be helped. Taking out a bullet is always painful, but when it’s been in there for three days—”
“I know.” He waved a hand dismissively. “I’m just obliged to you—and I’ll make it up to you—for bein’ such a bother.”
She shook her head. “No bother. Truly. My father was a doctor, so I do know a little about what I’m doing.”
Levi breathed a slow sigh of relief. This wasn’t his first bullet hole. But thank God, he’d ended up here, with a beautiful young woman who seemed capable of treating him. There had been times before when he would have prayed to be in this circumstance, rather than some of the ones he’d found himself in.
Gentle hands ministered to him, but he suddenly remembered the very delicate location of the bullet hole and tried to re-cover himself.
“Mr. Connor, I’ve seen everything you have—and many others just like it,” Valentine said matter-of-factly. “I can’t very well remove a bullet from a wound I can’t see.” She snatched the covers from his hand and threw them back to his side. “You’re making it harder for me to be able to do what I need to.”
“In a week or two, I’d pay money for you to flip those covers away like that,” Levi answered.
She bent a long, hard look on him. “I’m not for sale, Mr. Connor. Not at any price. You want to keep riding?”
Levi shook his head. “Forget I said that, Valentine. Just the pain and the…damn humiliation talkin’. I didn’t mean it.”
A slow smile quirked her lips. “I can’t imagine you ever being embarrassed.”
“Believe it or not, I was raised a gentleman, ma’am.”
“I believe it, Mr. Connor. I do believe it.” Her voice was soft and sincere, and full of loss for things Levi didn’t understand.
But just then, she pulled the wound open and probed for the bullet, and the pain stripped everything else away from him. There was nothing in Levi’s consciousness but Valentine and her tweezers, delving into the bloody hole in his leg. He swallowed back the cry that threatened to bring the roof down, forcing it away.
IF YOU CAN'T WAIT TO SEE IF YOU WON, HERE'S THE BUY LINK FOR AMAZON!
http://www.amazon.com/Hidden-Trails-Cheryl-Pierson-ebook/dp/B00T235K92/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1427484134&sr=1-1&keywords=hidden+trails
Thursday, March 26, 2015
GALVESTON'S GREAT HURRICANE OF 1900 AND QUEEN OF THE WAVES
Why I’ve had storms on my mind, I don’t know. I
suppose I can blame Carra Copelin and her book MATELYN AND THE TEXAS RANGER,
which includes a hurricane. In addition, I have another friend who works for
the Sisters of Charity, and the two influences collided. (Yes, pun intended.)
At the end of the 19th century, the city of
Galveston, Texas, was a booming town with a population of 36,000 residents. Its
position on the natural harbor of Galveston Bay along the Gulf of Mexico made
it the center of trade and the biggest city in the state of Texas. Before the
Hurricane of 1900, Galveston was considered to be a beautiful and prestigious
city and was known as the "Ellis Island of the West" and the
"Wall Street of the Southwest".
As Galveston entered the new millennium, it was one
of the wealthiest cities per capita in the United States and appeared to be poised for greatness.
And then one weekend in September in 1900, the same
proximity to the sea that had made the community grow and prosper as a port
city, changed Galveston Island forever. On Sept. 8, Galveston became the
victim of a powerful hurricane of such destructive force that whole blocks of
homes were completely swept away.
WORST
NATURAL DISASTER IN NATION’S HISTORY
Striking Galveston on Sept. 8, 1900, the Great Storm
is considered the worst natural disaster in the nation's history. In Galveston
on the rain-darkened and gusty morning of Saturday, September 8, 1900,
newspaper readers saw, on page three of the local Galveston Daily News, an early-morning account of a tropical
hurricane prowling the Gulf of Mexico.
On the previous day Galveston had been
placed under a storm warning by the central office of the Weather Bureau (now
the National Weather Service) in Washington, D.C. A one-column headline
announced, "Storm in the Gulf." Under that, a small subhead proclaimed,
"Great Damage Reported on Mississippi and Louisiana Coasts-Wires
Down-Details Meagre." The story, only one paragraph long, had been sent
out of New Orleans at 12:45 A.M. that same day, but it added nothing to the
information presented in the headlines. Additional details were unavailable
"owing to the prostration of the wires."
Beginning early on the morning of September 8, the winds began coming in strongly from the north. Despite the opposing
winds, the tides of the southern gulf waters also rose, sending large crashing
waves upon the beach front. During the afternoon the winds and rain continued to
increase. The tides of the gulf rose higher and higher with fierce waves
crashing on the beach, sending flood waters into the residential areas.
More than 6,000 (some estimates say as many as 8,000
to 12,000) men, women and children lost their lives. Among the dead were 10
sisters and 90 children from the St. Mary's Orphans Asylum, operated by the
Sisters of Charity. The sisters also operated St. Mary's Infirmary in
Galveston. It was the first Catholic hospital in the state, established in
1867.
SISTERS
OF CHARITY AND ST. MARY’S ORPHANS ASYLUM
The sisters were called to Galveston by Catholic
Bishop Claude M. Dubuis in 1866 to care for the many sick and infirm in what
was the major port of entry for Texas. They were also charged with caring for
orphaned children, most of whom had lost parents during yellow fever epidemics
prevalent in coastal areas of the time.
At first the Sisters of Charity opened an orphanage
within the hospital, but later moved it three miles to the west on beach-front
property on the former estate of Captain Farnifalia Green at what is now 69th and Seawall Boulevard. The location seemed ideal as it was far from town and
the threat of yellow fever.
St. Mary's Orphans Asylum |
Sister Elizabeth Ryan, one of 10 sisters at St.
Mary's Orphanage, had come into town that morning to collect food. Despite
pleas from Mother Gabriel, the assistant superior at St. Mary's Infirmary, for
her to stay at the hospital until the storm passed, Sister Elizabeth said she
had to return to the orphanage. Sister Elizabeth had the provisions in the
wagon and said if she did not return, the children would have no supper.
Warning:
Get your hankies ready now.
St. Mary's Orphanage consisted of two large
two-story dormitories just off the beach behind a row of tall sand dunes that
were supported by salt cedar trees. The buildings had balconies facing the
gulf. According to one of the boys at the orphanage, the rising tides began
eroding the sand dunes "as though they were made of flour." Soon the
waters of the gulf reached the dormitories.
St. Mary's Orphans Asylum circa 1899 |
The Sisters at the orphanage brought all of the
children into the girls' dormitory because it was the newer and stronger of the
two. In the first floor chapel, they tried to calm the children by having them
sing the old French hymn "Queen of the Waves." The waters continued
to rise.
Sister Vincent Cottier and two children |
By 6 p.m. the wind was gusting past 100 miles per hour and the waters of the gulf and bay had met, completely flooding the city. Residents climbed to the second stories, attics and even roofs of their homes. Flying debris struck many who dared venture outside their homes.
Around 7:30 p.m. the main tidal surge struck the
south shore. Houses along the beach front were lifted from their foundations
and sent like battering rams into other houses. Houses fell upon houses.
Four-block area of town after storm |
At the orphanage, the children and sisters heard the
crash of the boys’ dormitory as it collapsed and was carried away by the flood
waters. The sisters cut the clothesline rope into sections and used it to tie
the children to the cinctures which they wore around their waists. Each Sister
tied to herself between six to eight children. Some of the older children
climbed onto the roof of the orphanage.
One of the sisters with children nearby |
Only three boys from the orphanage survived: William Murney, Frank Madera and Albert Campbell. Miraculously all three ended up together in a tree in the water. After floating for more than a day, they were eventually able to make their way into town where they told the sisters what had happened at the orphanage.
One of the boys remembered a sister tightly holding
two small children in her arms, promising not to let go. The sisters were
buried wherever they were found, with the children still attached to them. Two
of the sisters were found together across the bay on the Mainland. One of them
was tightly holding two small children in her arms. Even in death she had kept
her promise not to let go.
Each year on September 8th, the members
of the Congregation of the Sisters of Charity of the Incarnate Word sing "Queen
of the Waves." The song provides the sisters and all those who co-minister
with them an opportunity to pause and remember all who lost their lives in a
devastating hurricane almost a century ago.
Storm's damage downtown |
DEATH
AND DESTRUCTION
The death and destruction in Galveston was unbelievable.
Thousands were dead and their bodies were littered throughout the city. It
would be months before some would be uncovered. A complete list of the dead was
never made. Stench from the corpses was detectable for miles. The bodies were
piled on barges and towed out for burial at sea, but most washed back up on
shores. Funeral pyres were started and burned for days.
Estimates are that the winds reached 150 mph or
maybe even 200. The tidal surge has been estimated at from 15 to 20 feet. Whole
blocks of homes had been completely destroyed, leaving little more than a brick
or two. In all more than 3,600 homes had been destroyed.
Only beach house for miles |
At St. Mary's Infirmary, there was no food or water.
While the main hospital building was still standing, the adjacent structures,
had been destroyed. The hospital was packed with those who were injured and
those who had nowhere else to go.
Two of the Sisters walked about the area until they
found crackers and cookies that had been soaked in the water. They brought them
back to the hospital. Over a fire they built in the street, they dried the food
and served it to those in need at the infirmary.
One year later, the Sisters opened a new orphanage.
On Sept. 8, 1994, a Texas Historical Marker was
placed at 69th Street and Seawall Boulevard, marking the site of the former
orphanage. The descendants of two of the survivors, Will Murny and Frank Madera,
returned to participate in the marker dedication. As part of the ceremony,
"Queen of the Waves" was again sung at the same time and place as it
was during the Great 1900 Storm. And, as it continues to be each Sept. 8 by the
Sisters of Charity of the Incarnate Word.
Searching debris |
ENGINEERING
MARVEL
To prevent future storms from causing destruction
like that of the 1900 hurricane, many improvements to the island were made. The
first 3 miles of the Galveston Seawall, 17-foot high, were built beginning in
1902 under the direction of Henry Martyn Robert. An all-weather bridge was
constructed to the mainland to replace the ones destroyed in the storm.
The most dramatic effort to protect the city was its
raising. Dredged sand was used to raise the city of Galveston by as much as 17
feet above its previous elevation. Over 2,100 buildings were raised in the
process, including the 3,000-ton St. Patrick's Church. The seawall and raising
of the island were jointly named a National Historical Civil Engineering
Landmark by the American Society of Civil Engineers in 2001.
In 1915, a storm similar in strength and track to
the 1900 hurricane struck Galveston. The 1915 storm brought a 12-ft storm surge
which tested the new seawall. Although 53 people on Galveston Island lost their
lives in the 1915 storm, this was a great reduction from the thousands who died
in 1900.
If this works, this is a recording of "Queen of the Waves"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tzbiq-S8ZDE
Sources:
Wikipedia
https://tshaonline.org/handbook/online/articles/ydg02
http://www.eyewitnesstohistory.com/galveston.htm
http://www.1900storm.com/orphanage.html (Linda Macdonald, Director of Communications, Congregation of the Sisters of Charity of the Incarnate Word in Houston)
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
The General Store
The items I ordered for Easter via
online shopping have arrived, and in a way, history is repeating itself...
Catalog ordering wasn’t unusual for
pioneers. The local mercantile, general store, emporium, or country store often
provided catalogs for customers to review and place orders from—if they didn’t
have what the customer was looking for in stock. The merchandise would be
delivered to the store and the customer would come pick it up.
Country stores did try to hold a
variety of merchandise on hand for their customers. They were the “Wal-Marts”
of the day, selling most everything the community may need under one roof. The
standard stock of supplies usually included foods such as flour, sugar,
oatmeal, coffee beans, spices, baking powder, hard candy, crackers, dried
beans, tobacco and cigars. They would also have perishables such as eggs, milk,
butter, cheese, fresh fruits and vegetables (when in season, otherwise canned)
and honey. These items they usually procured from local residents.
The stores also sold dry goods,
including bolts of cloth, thread, needles and pins, undergarments, shoes and
boots, hats, belts and socks. Of course they also sold essentials such as guns
and ammunition, lanterns, lamps, ropes, pots and pans, dishes and cooking
utensils, farming equipment, and even coffins.
There would also be a selection of
soaps, medicines, elixirs and other toiletries.
The owners often resided in their
store, on the upper level or side/back rooms. The store area itself was usually
very crowded, with walls lined with shelves, and floors covered with crates and
barrels. Storage rooms were also a must. Most of the merchandise was ordered
through drummers, salesmen from establishments in larger cities that maintained
regular routes to assure their products were available throughout the nation.
The increase of the railroad benefitted many, including store proprietors.
Merchandise became easier to obtain.
These establishments were often the
hub of the community. Meetings would be held there, and they were often the
number one place of socializing. The country store was also where people picked
up their mail.
In the late 1890’s the postal
service created RFD. Rural Free Delivery. This eliminated the need to visit the
country store to pick up mail, and it also created a way for people to order
merchandise and have it delivered directly to their doorstep. In order to
implement the RFD, the government had to build roads to assure mail could be
delivered to every home. Companies took great advantage of this, and started
sending catalogs to all homes. People now had many more choices of merchandise
and the catalogs often times had very appealing prices.
By the early 1900’s country stores
began transforming into more singular focused stores, such as grocery stores,
clothing stores, hardware stores, drug stores, etc. etc. Mail order didn’t
completely go away, but slowed considerably until the introduction of the World
Wide Web. And where, as authors, would we be with that?
I hope you all have a fabulous
Easter!
Cheers,
Lauri
Bottom of Form
Sunday, March 22, 2015
Where the Buffalo Roam...
By: Peggy L. Henderson
Bison have roamed the area known as Yellowstone probably as long as they roamed the Great Plains in the millions. It was a common belief that these bison were escapees and survivors of the mass slaughter that occurred in the 1800’s on the plains. Actually, the historic Yellowstone bison were a subspecies of that group, and lived there for thousands of years.
Fur trapper Osborne Russell, has mentioned the large numbers of bison in an area of Idaho, about 30 miles from the present park. Members of the earlier park expeditions commented that "buffalo skulls are strewn by thousands" in the Yellowstone valley about 40 miles north of the park. From these and other accounts of wild bison within what is today the park, and in adjacent areas, dating from 1860 through 1902, it is clear that a great number of bison inhabited the Yellowstone Plateau at all seasons, and long before the killing of the northern herd of Great Plains bison in the early 1880s.
Rifleman shooting bison ca 1880 NPS photo |
After the park was established in 1872, there was no regulation in place for the killing of animals, and poachers freely killed bison. By 1902, less than thirty bison remained.
In 1886, the army took control of Yellowstone, and one of their main objectives was to regulate the killing and decimating of the natural features and wildlife. While the soldiers worked to stop illegal hunting, they were pretty much powerless to do anything other than escort the offenders outside of park boundaries, confiscate their kills, and tell them not to come back.
One brazen poacher, Ed Howell, came back time and again, and boasted of his exploits. Luckily, this backfired on him when the public finally heard about his poaching activities, and in 1894, the Lacey Act was passed by Congress, making poaching illegal and punishable.
In 1906, the Lamar Buffalo Ranch was established within Yellowstone to preserve the last free-roaming herd in the US. The bison that were brought to the ranch to mix with the last of the native mountain herd were plains bison, and as a result, today’s Yellowstone bison are a hybrid of the two.
Lamar Buffalo Ranch 1930 NPS photo |
By the 1950’s the herd grew to over 600 animals, and ranching was stopped. The bison were set free to once again roam the park. Today, there are two distinct herds in the park – the Lamar herd, and the Mary Mountain herd. Their numbers fluctuate in any given year, but is usually somewhere around 3000 head.
Seeing bison in their natural habitat is one of the great joys when visiting Yellowstone. What many people need to remember, is that these animals are wild and dangerous. Unfortunately, many ignore the warnings, and year after year, injuries and even deaths occur from encounters with bison.
bison calves |
The best place to see these magnificent animals is in the Hayden and Lamar Valleys. “Bison jams” are a common occurrence, since bison cross and even travel on the park road.
present day bison jam
Peggy L Henderson is a laboratory technologist by night, and best-selling western historical and time travel romance author of the Yellowstone Romance Series, Second Chances Time Travel Romance Series, and Teton Romance Trilogy. When she’s not writing about Yellowstone, the Tetons, or the old west, she’s out hiking the trails, spending time with her family and pets, or catching up on much-needed sleep. She is happily married to her high school sweetheart. Along with her husband and two sons, she makes her home in Southern California.
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|
Friday, March 20, 2015
Caddo Lake, The Great Red River Raft & Sighting Bigfoot
Caddo Lake is a 25,400-acre lake and wetland on the border between Texas and Louisiana. Named after Caddo Native Americans who lived in the area until displacement by white settlers, Caddo Lake is an internationally protected wetland featuring the largest cypress forest in the world. It is one of Texas's few non-oxbow natural lakes and is the 2nd largest in the South. Its size has been altered in modern times by dams.
Photo by: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/User:JCarriker
According to Caddo legend the lake was formed by the 1812 New Madrid Earthquake after a Caddo chief failed to obey the Great Spirit. However, most geologists believe the lake was formed by the “Great Raft”, a huge log jam on the Red River in Louisiana that likely flooded the adjacent low-lying area.
The Great Raft probably began forming around 1100–1200 AD. At its peak in the early 1830s, the raft extended more than 160 miles. The Great Raft protected the Caddo people from competing tribes and the periodic flooding it caused made the land fertile for agriculture.
Photo from 1870s when the Great Raft was being broken up
Reaching from Campti, Louisiana, to around Shreveport, the Raft impeded westward settlement. It raised the banks of the Red River, forming bayous and several lakes, called the Great Raft Lakes, which included Caddo Lake.
Steamboat builder and river captain Henry Miller Shreve 1785–1851) began removal of the Great Raft. He finished the task in 1838, allowing navigation on the Red River. Small river boats travelled the chain of lakes as far as Jefferson, Texas, which soon became an important river port for goods and passengers. The city of Shreveport, Louisiana, was named after Captain Shreve.
Capt. Henry Millar Shreve; Wikipedia Commons; public domain
Later, the raft reformed farther up river, growing until it reached the Arkansas state line. Destruction of this second raft was completed by the U.S. Army Corp of Engineers in 1874. Unfortunately, with the removal of the log jams, water levels slowly fell to a point where steamboat passage was no longer possible. Railroads soon replaced travel by water.
Although Caddo Lake never went totally dry thanks to being situated in a “bowl,” it did get very low. In 1914 an earthen dam was built near Mooringsport, Louisiana, that raised the water level close to where it had been before the Great Raft was removed. A modern replacement dam was completed in 1971, constructed by the Corps of Engineers.
Oil was discovered beneath Caddo Lake and the world's first over water oil platform was built in 1911. The Ferry Lake No. 1 was erected by Gulf Refining Company. Soon, oil derricks sprang up all over the lake, damaging the fragile ecosystem until drillers left for richer fields. Texas sought to preserve parts of Caddo in 1934 by establishing a state park, constructed by the WPA. However, the Longhorn Army Ammunition Plant was built on the shores of Caddo Lake in the mid-20th century, polluting the surrounding wetlands until its closure in the 1990s.
In 1993, it was announced that 7,000 acres of Caddo purchased by the Nature Conservancy would merge with the 483-acre Caddo Lake State Park, becoming the Caddo Lake State Park and Wildlife Management Area. Also in 1993, thanks to efforts by the Caddo Lake Institute (co-founded by Dwight K. Shellman and Don Henley, famous lead singer for The Eagles) Caddo Lake became one of thirteen areas in the U.S. protected under the international Ramsar Treaty.
Along the shores of Caddo Lake and Cypress Creek, stand many towns and ghost towns dating back to the Republic of Texas. Swanson's Landing was near where the steamer Mittie Stevens caught fire in 1869, when passengers burned to death at night, not realizing the shore was so close and the water so shallow. Farther up the bayou, Port Caddo was the northeast entry point into the Republic of Texas, and Benton was the head of navigation before Jefferson took that honor. A short distance inland from Port Caddo is the site of Macon, called the "Lost Colony" after its settlers moved to Port Caddo.
Since 1965 there have been hundreds of alleged Bigfoot sightings around Caddo Lake, according to the Texas Bigfoot Research Center (TBRC) -- reported in the Travel Channel’s 2006 documentary Bigfoot. Fascinated by such weird but wonderful tales, I was inspired to include such an incident (with an unexpected twist) in RESCUING LARA, Romancing the Guardians Book I. Here’s a glimpse of “Bigfoot” through Lara’s eyes.
Seated at the huge table, feeling desperately alone, she swallowed the last bite and was about to take a final sip of coffee when a wave of fear swept through her.
Her head snapped up and she set her cup down hard. Knowing her inner alarm was warning of danger, she pushed back from the table, grabbed her cane and stood. Pulse beating double-time, she headed into the hall, pausing to stare at the front door windows. It was almost sunset and the outdoor lights had automatically turned on. Seeing no figure outlined against the frosted glass panes, she continued into the great room. Her gaze went to the oversize picture window and she screamed at the top of her lungs.
Illuminated by the porch lights, a giant hairy creature stood looking in at her. Too terrified to move, she returned its stare. The ape-like thing gave a deep rumble and slapped the window with a huge paw.
Lara jumped and whimpered in terror. Released from her petrified trance, she lurched into the hall, heart hammering and breath rasping in her throat. She hobbled into the kitchen as fast as her weak leg would carry her and glanced around, panic threatening to overcome her. Then her gaze landed on a wooden knife block squatting on the counter near the stove. Limping over there, she fumbled through the collection of knives with trembling fingers, dropping several on the granite countertop.
She settled on the biggest, heaviest butcher knife, certain nothing else would stop that gigantic creature if it broke in. Could the thing actually be a man dressed in a gorilla suit, trying to frighten her? If so, he’d succeeded.
Clutching the weapon in her fist, she hobbled toward the hall, gaze glued to the windows behind the dining table, afraid the ape thing might come around back. Seeing no sign of it, she inched her way along the hallway to the great room. She paused just before the entrance, clammy with fear, and darted a look around the corner. The creature had disappeared from the window, although it could be lurking out of sight on the wraparound porch, searching for a way in.
All the doors and windows on the main floor were locked. She’d made sure of that when the likelihood of spending the night alone struck like a punch to her stomach, but she hadn’t checked the upstairs windows. Danu save her! The ape – or man – might climb to the balcony over the porch. She had to see if those bedroom windows were locked, even though logic told her the thing could easily break one.
The great room seemed twice as cavernous as before; she dreaded stepping in there, knowing the beast might reappear at any moment, but she had no choice if she wanted to reach the staircase in the far corner. Screwing up her courage, she started across the room, glancing at the window as she wound her way between pieces of furniture. Almost to the stairs, she heard heavy footsteps on the porch and caught movement from the corner of her eye.
Lara gasped, dropped her cane and dove behind an overstuffed chair. She peeked around the padded armrest and saw the man-ape standing outside with both enormous paws, no, hands pressed flat against the windowpane. It turned its massive head back and forth, obviously looking for her. Could it break through the extra-thick glass? She prayed not.
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Seated at the huge table, feeling desperately alone, she swallowed the last bite and was about to take a final sip of coffee when a wave of fear swept through her.
Her head snapped up and she set her cup down hard. Knowing her inner alarm was warning of danger, she pushed back from the table, grabbed her cane and stood. Pulse beating double-time, she headed into the hall, pausing to stare at the front door windows. It was almost sunset and the outdoor lights had automatically turned on. Seeing no figure outlined against the frosted glass panes, she continued into the great room. Her gaze went to the oversize picture window and she screamed at the top of her lungs.
Illuminated by the porch lights, a giant hairy creature stood looking in at her. Too terrified to move, she returned its stare. The ape-like thing gave a deep rumble and slapped the window with a huge paw.
Lara jumped and whimpered in terror. Released from her petrified trance, she lurched into the hall, heart hammering and breath rasping in her throat. She hobbled into the kitchen as fast as her weak leg would carry her and glanced around, panic threatening to overcome her. Then her gaze landed on a wooden knife block squatting on the counter near the stove. Limping over there, she fumbled through the collection of knives with trembling fingers, dropping several on the granite countertop.
She settled on the biggest, heaviest butcher knife, certain nothing else would stop that gigantic creature if it broke in. Could the thing actually be a man dressed in a gorilla suit, trying to frighten her? If so, he’d succeeded.
Clutching the weapon in her fist, she hobbled toward the hall, gaze glued to the windows behind the dining table, afraid the ape thing might come around back. Seeing no sign of it, she inched her way along the hallway to the great room. She paused just before the entrance, clammy with fear, and darted a look around the corner. The creature had disappeared from the window, although it could be lurking out of sight on the wraparound porch, searching for a way in.
All the doors and windows on the main floor were locked. She’d made sure of that when the likelihood of spending the night alone struck like a punch to her stomach, but she hadn’t checked the upstairs windows. Danu save her! The ape – or man – might climb to the balcony over the porch. She had to see if those bedroom windows were locked, even though logic told her the thing could easily break one.
The great room seemed twice as cavernous as before; she dreaded stepping in there, knowing the beast might reappear at any moment, but she had no choice if she wanted to reach the staircase in the far corner. Screwing up her courage, she started across the room, glancing at the window as she wound her way between pieces of furniture. Almost to the stairs, she heard heavy footsteps on the porch and caught movement from the corner of her eye.
Lara gasped, dropped her cane and dove behind an overstuffed chair. She peeked around the padded armrest and saw the man-ape standing outside with both enormous paws, no, hands pressed flat against the windowpane. It turned its massive head back and forth, obviously looking for her. Could it break through the extra-thick glass? She prayed not.
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Wednesday, March 18, 2015
James P. Beckwourth: An Extraordinary Adventurer and Explorer
James Pierson Beckwourth
The fur trade spurred the early exploration west of
the Appalachians into the untamed west. It surprised me how early trappers and
tradesmen began to cross into the great unknown to seek their fortunes. We know
many of these men already, but the person who surprised me most was James
Pierson Beckwourth. Honestly, I had never heard of him until I went searching
for something interesting to post on Sweethearts of the West. This amazing man
shows the spirit and tenacity of the American heart.
James Beckwourth was born a slave in Fredericksburg,
Virginia on April 6, 1798. His mother was a mulatto slave in the service of his
white father’s (Sir Jennings Beckwourth of Irish and English nobility)
household and was raised “free”. James was the third of their thirteen
children. After the Beckwourth family moved to St. Louis, Missouri, James attended
school for four years. His father, who acknowledged him as his son, had him apprenticed
to a black smith for five years to give him a good trade. He ran away when he
was eighteen, but had trouble finding work until he signed on to General
William Henry Ashley’s Rocky Mountain Fur Trading Company.
James Beckwourth, Frontiersman
In 1825 he left Ashley’s company and went to live with
the Crow Indians for six years. The Crows made him a chieftain and called him “Bull’s
Robe.” Beckwourth
married the daughter of a chief, and may have had multiple wives. (Marriages
between Native Americans and fur trappers and traders were common for the
valuable alliances they provided both parties.) In 1837 he returned to “civilization”
and established two trading posts and helped found the town of Pueblo, Colorado.
He fought in the Seminole War in 1842 and the
California Revolution in 1846. He became General John C. Freemont’s chief scout
in 1848. Later he lived in Sacramento, then a boom town, to work as a
professional card player.
He discovered a safer route through the Sierra Nevadas
in 1850 which is now called “Beckwourth’s Pass” between present day Reno,
Nevada and Portola, California during the Gold Rush years. It was in this area
that he built a ranch, hotel, and a trading post. It was at his hotel that
Beckwourth met Thomas D. Bonner.
Beckwourth liked to tell his life’s adventures and
narrated his story to Thomas D. Bonner, an itinerate justice of the peace, who
wrote a book titled The Life and Adventures of James P. Beckwourth:
Mountaineer, Scout and Pioneer, and Chief of the Crow Nation of Indians. A
translation was published in France in 1860. He was supposed to receive half
the proceeds of the book, but he never received any payment from Bonner. At
first, historians considered the book nothing more than a book of adventures to
read around the campfire. But later, the book was reevaluated and became considered
as a valuable source of social history, especially for life among the Crow, even
though not all its details are reliable or accurate. The civil rights movement
of the 1960s celebrated Beckwourth as an early African-American pioneer. He has
since been featured as a role model in children's literature and textbooks.
His last adventure came when he fought in the Cheyenne
War in which he fought against the Cheyenne and Arapaho. The territory's
campaign resulted in the Sand Creek Massacre, in which the militia killed an
estimated 70-163 friendly Cheyenne men, women and children who had camped in an
area suggested by the previous commander of Fort Lyon and flew an American flag
to show their status. Outraged by the massacre, the Cheyenne prohibited Beckwourth
from trading with them. Well into his 60s by then, Beckwourth returned to
trapping.
The US Army employed him as a scout at Fort Laramie
and Fort Phil Kearny in 1866. While guiding a military column to a Crow band in
Montana, he complained of severe headaches and suffered nosebleeds (most probably
a severe case of hypertension). Beckwourth returned to the Crow village along
the Little Big Horn River, where he died on October 29, 1866 with unstoppable
nose bleeding. William Byers, a personal friend and founder of the Rocky
Mountain News, claimed the Crow had poisoned Beckwourth, but he had no
supporting facts.
James Beckwourth traveled over the years from the
everglades of Florida to the Pacific Ocean blazing trails in the early
exploration and settlement of the Old West. In 1996, the city of Marysville,
California renamed its largest park Beckwourth Riverfront Park in recognition
of Beckwourth's significance to the growth of the city. The city sponsored for
a few years the former "Beckwourth Frontier Days" annually held in
October, then the only living history festival in northern California.
I am so amazed that I have never learned of this
extraordinary adventurer until now.
Resources:
In
The American West
Wikipedia
From
Black History Now
True
Facts
For
Further Reading, here is the book I mentioned:
The
Life and Adventures of James Pierson Beckwourth
Written from his own Dictation
by T. D. Bonner
Sarah J. McNeal, Author
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