Chapter 228: Fleeing into Hibernation

The boiler was at full heat as we cast off from the dock, black smoke from a fully stoked fire box making its way into the chilly, moist autumn sky. The smell of snow was in the air and it was plainly obvious that winter was very much an active participant in our immediate plans.

The river current was our friend and working closely with a full sail in a stiff wind from the Northwest had us running at a brisk clip, home was not much more than half a day away.

The wind though, that wind carried the threat of the winter storm that was hard on our heels.

We were met at the dock by the light beginnings of a sleet shower. Slushy ice was starting to build up everywhere and the wind was starting to show some true motivation. Icy wet was everywhere and the road was quickly devolving into an icy mud track, trekking up the bluff would be an effort.

To my surprise and relief wagons and horses had been pre-staged for us in the boat house. The boat house itself was little more than a large shed, but the animals were kept out of the wind and wet. After a quick round of words and handshakes with my fellow travelers I swung up in the saddle and was on my way.

The immigrants would be well handled by Timmons and I was going home, everything else would wait until the morn; a nasty November storm was upon us and I simply wanted to be home. There was a rocking chair there in front of a warm fire and it was calling my name.

End Book 2