Book 2, Chapter 3

Dana and Rebecca were up early, getting the traditional gather breakfast ready. They'd joined the other ladies in the cooking line. Rebecca was helping with the pancakes. Dana was heading up the biscuit crew. She'd brought a full bag of old time flour (non-self-rising), and was making the biscuits from scratch. Some of the other women were standing around watching, in hopes that they could learn the technique. She explained what she was doing, with each step of the process, so the other women would be able to reproduce her work on their own.

Jackie joined them a short time later. She pitched in with the table setting and getting the serving area ready. The smells of the various foods wafted through the camp, and woke up the boys and Stephanie. They hurried to get dressed and virtually ran to the kitchen area.

They were still early, though, and Dana put them to work. Rob got to peel potatoes, but didn't mind because Danielle was already there, hard at work. Andrew was put to work tending the cooking fires. He was putting more wood on the main fire when Marsha caught him from behind. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rubbed her Texas titties against his back.

Dana saw it happen and told them to cut the horseplay. She told Marsha to help Andrew, and not hinder him by making it hard for him to move. She placed just the right accents on her words, and Marsha turned scarlet! She behaved herself after that.

About twenty minutes later, Marcie turned up, and joined the crew. Several times, Andrew had to go into the roped off area and use the axe to chop some wood into smaller pieces. He was very conscientious in his duties.

Bob joined the group at the kitchen but there were no more chores for him. He'd taken care of the horses and mules at their camp, which was why he was so late. He helped himself to a cup of hot cocoa, and sat in a corner, out of the way. A short time later, the big triangle was rung as breakfast was called. Campers streamed into the eating area, picking up food, and finding a place to sit at one of the many tables erected for the event. When the main contingent of people was through the line, all the workers, including the Malone family were allowed to get their plates full. Some of the best food had been held back just for the workers (That was always the way it was done. It was the reason why they always had plenty of volunteers to help.).

Clean up was mostly done before the last of the eaters arrived. It was well organized. Breakfast went off without a hitch, and the family drifted back toward their campsite.

"Well, there is only one real event this morning, and then the awards are going to be presented at one PM. I have the distance shoot," he said with a smile. "Once we're done with the awards ceremony, we can either stay, or head back. We can camp in the national forest again. We might even stop to pan for gold..."

That got them. Everyone excitedly voted to leave after the awards, camp near the Homestake Mine, and pan gold in Deadwood Creek.

But first, there was the shooting. Bob pulled out the Sharps rifle. It was a beautiful gun. The .45/120 was a monster load, capable of shooting a black powder loaded bullet over one thousand yards, with accuracy!

The contestants and spectators were streaming into the long-range area. It was crowded. This event was second only to the fast draw event as a crowd pleaser. Bob checked at the weather station table for the latest on conditions in the Lead area. Wind speed would make a difference. He did make a mental note that there might be the possibility of severe weather, later that afternoon. That was a good thing to know.

Right now though, it was getting ready for the shooting showdown. Bob had the Sharps, with its ladder sight, ready. Each shooter would shoot in turn at successively farther targets, until no one hit the target proper. Then the winner would be declared. The first target would be located four hundred meters from the line (That's about a quarter of a mile, for you non-metric readers.). A lot of shooters grumbled at this, because they knew they would have trouble hitting it.

The first round began at ten AM. Bob and eight others of the forty or so who entered in the event, managed to hit the target. Bob was closest to the bull's eye, and chose to shoot last from that point forward. His shot hit on the line of the '10' ring. The next target was a hundred meters farther out. Everyone advanced again. Nearly the same occurred at the six hundred meter line, with only one shooter being eliminated.

At the seven hundred meter line, two more were eliminated and the shooting field shifted too. The five remaining shooters, and Bob, were told to check their weapons and be ready to shoot. Any shot may kill, so they were all told to be careful. At seven hundred fifty meters another shooter fell by the wayside. There were now five shooters left, including Bob. Everyone shot the eight hundred meter target, but three missed at the eight hundred fifty mark.

That left David McGuire as the only other shooter. McGuire had won this event three years running. Both shooters shot the center of the nine hundred and the nine hundred fifty meter targets. Next was the thousand meter target. Again, both shooters hit. But they were beginning to reach the end of the accurate range for rifles. One thousand fifty, eleven hundred, and eleven fifty targets were added, and both shot equally. The next target was the twelve hundred meter target. This one was approximately three quarters of a mile from the shooting line.

David was using the traditional v-notch single pole support for his gun. Bob was using the modified tripod sandbag bench, with an elevation extension. Both were shooting from the standing position. Both men were ready. David would shoot first.

The crowd hushed like the spectator gallery of a US Open golf tournament. David looked through his hand scope. He checked his rifle. He checked the scope again. Shaking his head slightly he leveled his weapon at the target. He fired. He picked up his scope. Bob already had his trained on the target. They waited. Moments later they saw the flag.

Miss.

Bob checked his vault for his special deposits. They were intact. He bet another five thousand on himself. The odds had risen to 19/4. He was ready.

He stepped to the shooters box. He adjusted his portable shooter's station for standing shots. He checked the windage once, then twice. He even picked up some loose dirt off the ground, and let it slowly pour out. He was ready. He rested the barrel of the Sharps on the stand. The front of the barrel raised, going higher and higher as he mentally calculated the range of the projectile, backwards, based on his muzzle velocity 'x' component, and calculated the angle necessary for the shot. He then checked the inclinometer to confirm he had the needed angle, 46.2 degrees.

He was almost at the rifle's maximum range, and he knew it. This shot was a must do. If he missed, it would be a tie, and the tie-breaker would be measurement of the distance from the center of the previous target to his shot penetration. David was .73 inches closer, and would win.

Bob knew, barring a gust of wind, that he would hit the target. He settled in for the shot. He slowed his breathing, and willed his heart to slow. He pulled the hammer back and the double set trigger engaged. He took a deep breath and exhaled. He took another deep breath and he pulled the set trigger at the same time. He aimed through the ladder sight, and checked elevation simultaneously. Then he exhaled half way.

Pause, and squeeze.

The big gun exploded once more, and the lead projectile was on its way. They waited. Many discovered they were holding their breath.

The plume of dust that the lead kicked up was the initial indication that the slug had reached its destination. They waited. Both men, the judges, and many of the spectators had their scopes riveted to the target. The large black circle disk from the target judge was placed on the exact center of the target.

The crowd erupted.

David stepped close and extended his hand. A gracious loser, he congratulated Bob on his shooting. Spectators crowded around, shaking Bob's hand or patting him on the back.

In the distance, a dirt bike was speeding back to the shooting line. The target judge would have the paper targets from the stations, signed by himself and the gather's steward. They arrived in short order, and the judges met together to inspect and confirm.

The long shoot was the last event of the Gather. The head judge, Moss Grimmick, IV took up the microphone. He started with a general announcement about the closing of the grounds. Then he gave a history of this gather. It had been going on continually since 1877. It was the longest known gather in the country. This year the long range shoot had been sponsored by the Shiloh Rifle Company of Big Timber, Montana. The prize for the winning shooter was a Sharps Buffalo rifle in .45/110 [NOTE: It was a duplicate of the weapon Tom Sellick would use in 1990 in the movie, Quigley Down Under.]. He then called Bob up to the stand to make the presentation.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, you have been a participant in History, on this day," Mr. Grimmick announced. "To cap it all off, you have witnessed an exhibition of shooting skill unsurpassed in all the history of the gather. I will tell you all, now, that the last shot of the day is being submitted to 'Guinness Records' as the longest shot on record, for ACCURACY, by any black powder weapon. Mr. Malone's target has been examined and measured by a Guinness representative, and has been authenticated. You have just witnessed a twelve hundred meter dead center shot. He placed his shot in the absolute center of the target!"

The crowd went wild, again. Dana was at Bob's side, jumping up and down, rubbing her interesting parts on him as she did so. Although Grimmick held up his hands in an attempt to quiet the crowd, the cheering went on for minutes. Finally, the noise subsided, and he continued.

"As a token of awe and respect for Mr. Malone's ability, the Shiloh Rifle company is not only presenting Mr. Malone with a Sharps Buffalo Rifle, but they are also presenting him two Sharp's carbines in .45/70, and a second Shiloh Buffalo Rifle, as well. Let's give Mr. Malone another round of applause."

It seemed that the din of the crowd could be heard for miles around. It sounded like thunder to those in attendance. The family now owned five Sharps rifles, in three calibers.

Bob was beaming as he gave the steward the rest of the necessary information for him to claim his prizes. The children were reverently touching the weapons. Rob shouldered one of the carbines and liked the way it fit. Dana picked up the other one. While it was a little big, she found it would work for her.

Rob then tried hefting the Buffalo gun. It was big and it was heavy. He knew if he fired it he would need to shoot from a bench rest or something similar.

The happy family made their way back to the camp. The twins were waiting for Andrew to say goodbye to him. They exchanged addresses, and other information. Their mother came walking up. She was an older image of her daughters.

She introduced herself to Bob and Dana, and said she hoped that her daughters hadn't made nuisances of themselves. Dana assured her that they caused no problems at all. Each one coyly kissed Andrew on the cheek as their mother insisted they come, right now. Andy waived to them as they turned to look back, while they were dragged away.

Danielle's family had already left the gather as had Tony's family. Contact info had been exchanged before they left, so the kids would be able to continue their friendships. Dana had judiciously packed up after breakfast, so the only things necessary to pack up, were the awards and trophies, along with the guns. Everyone 'policed the area', and in fifteen minutes they were ready to go. Bob signaled the mount up and they were soon wending their way south.

It was early afternoon, and the skies were clouding up. A chill wind began to blow. They were just about even with the Homestake Mine when the first lightning strike was seen.

"We might want to think about finding a place to shelter," Dana told Bob. "I certainly don't want to get caught out in a thunderstorm."

Looking up at the roiling clouds, Bob nodded in agreement.

"Let's see if there are any caves in the hillside over there past the claim boundary for the mine."

As the horses climbed the rise, the first droplets of rain started. Gentle at first, they became more fierce as the wind began whipping around. The volume of sound increased as the storm began lashing the hapless riders.

"Look!" Jackie cried out, pointing as she did. "Over there."

"I see it," Bob shouted, trying to be heard above the storm. "Let's get in there, quick!"

The small train of animals, now soaked through, entered the small cave entrance. As soon as they entered the cave, they found it opened out into a large cavern. Protected from the storm, they dismounted.

"I'm soaked!" Rebecca complained.

"Me, too," Stephanie replied

"Me, three," Andy added.

"We all are," Dana said in her matter of fact way. "Everyone, get changed into dry clothing ... AFTER you get the saddles and packs off the animals. Towel the horses off with your spare towel. We don't wanting them to catch a chill, either. There seems to be a natural boxed in area, over there, where we can put the horses and mules."

They got the animals tended to, and were able to use a rope tied to the rock wall to make a picket. Each got a nosebag of grain and they were content. Looking around in the gray light, the cave looked relatively level. The floor was extraordinarily smooth, and there was a small spring farther back flowing out of the wall, collecting in a basin below. The overflow headed to the back of the cave. About fifteen feet from the bowl it disappeared down a crack in the floor.

Cautiously, Bob took a sample of the water. He put some in his 'pocket water testing kit.' Two minutes later, he pronounced it fit for human consumption. Then he tasted it.

A broad smile crossed his face as he tasted the water and said, "This is the best water I've tasted in a long time!"

Everyone tried the water and had to agree. They filled their canteens with it. Rebecca even dumped her canteen out, to fill it with this water.

Andrew was at the cave entrance. He reported that the storm had gotten worse. Some of the rain was being blown in the entrance, but he was sheltered by a slight bend in the entryway. He stood in the safety of that bend and could see the torrential downpour.

"There's no sign of this letting up," he announced. "It looks like we're stuck here 'til morning."

Resigned to that fact, the family set up camp in the cave. Dana and the girls started fixing dinner. It would have to be MREs, tonight. They got the solid fuel heater going, and with the two units, were able to heat up four at a time. They ate in shifts.

Towards the back of the cave, Andy found where someone had stacked some wood. The bottom of the pile was rotted, but there was usable wood in the top half. There was a slight depression in the center of the cave that had wood ash, so he laid out wood and built a small fire. He watched as the smoke gently wafted to the ceiling and disappeared.

Stacking more wood on the fire allowed for both heat and light. The cave was dry, but chilly. The fire took the chill off, and made the cave quite comfortable. Drop cloths, compressed foam pads and sleeping bags were scattered out around the fire as the family prepared to spend the night.

Andrew, fascinated with the pyrotechnic display outside, was still at the bend of the entrance. It was full dark outside, now. The pitch black of the sky was shattered whenever the lightning struck. The rain relentlessly poured down in sheets. Finally, Dana had to call him away from the opening. Bob put the largest log he could find, that wasn't rotten, on the fire. They all turned in for the night.

--Later, when the fire had burnt low, Bob woke. The storm still raged outside. The intermittent flashes of light from the lightning illuminated part of the cave.

Waite sat bolt upright in bed. Carol Ann and Darlene had been snuggled up against him.

"What the hell was that" he wondered.

Outside a storm was raging. Lightning and thunder lit up the light with a pyrotechnic display not seen in Prairie Hill in recorded history. Waite could smell the acrid odor of ozone, a product of the electrical discharge. The flashes from the storm lit up the house like it was daylight. When the flash faded, Waite was blinded momentarily.

"Waite honey" Darlene pleaded. "It's just a storm. Lie down and snuggle me. Your child is really movin' round tonight." She was heavy with child now, almost 8 months along. Lisa Marie had delivered Waite Jr. just last week. Annabelle was due in about three weeks. Yes, the Phillips family was growing again. This time though, it was with little ones.

Waite couldn't get the weird feeling out of his mind. It only took a little time for him to realize he'd had that same feeling when he woke up that fateful morning in Tennessee. His mind wouldn't let it go. I know that feeling. It's exactly the same. Someone has arrived. This is the first time I've felt it since...

Then it came.

It was the mother of all lightning strikes!

The cave lit up in a blinding white glare. It hurt his eyes, and he had to close them. A wave of nausea overcame him, and he tried desperately to quell the urge to heave up his dinner. He laid his head down, and closed his eyes. His ears hurt from the thunder, which had been instantaneously produced by the flash. The room was spinning, and his head pounded. The smell of ozone permeated the air.

His eyes finally adjusted to the dark of the cave, once more. Looking around it appeared the rest of the family had experienced the same effects. Most were holding their heads, or covering their eyes with their hands. Dana had scooted close, and held her husband in a vise-like grip. No one spoke. No one dared to speak. The children had all moved their bags closer together for support. Gradually, they were able to fall back to sleep.

Morning came. Rob and Andrew were first to get up, their morning wood pointing the way. They were in need of relief. They headed towards the brightness that was the cave entrance. They stepped out and split to the left and right, to relieve themselves in the trees that stood near the entrance.

As relief visibly spread across his face, Andrew gazed around. His countenance changed to a frown. Stuffing himself back into his pants, he slowly turned around. He looked over at Rob. Rob was standing there staring, also. They exchanged glances. At the exact same instant they turned and rushed back into the cave.

"Dad!" they said simultaneously. "Come here, quick! You need to see this!"

Bob got up. He was a little dizzy, and still a bit queasy. He steadied himself for a moment, and then followed the boys. Curiosity got the better of the ladies and they trailed after their menfolk. When he exited the cave, he knew immediately what the problem was. The girls were basically on his heels, and they ran into him as he stood surveying the scene.

"Oh, my," Dana exclaimed, her hand going to her mouth.

"Wha..."

Was all Rebecca got out, as her eyes bugged out of her head at what she saw.

A lush forest greeted the Malone family as they looked out over a huge expanse of green. 'Virgin timber' was the term that came to mind, as Bob looked out.

Something was definitely wrong with the whole picture.

He sat down hard on a rock, at the side of the cave. Dana came over and sat on his lap, her arms went around his neck. She was softly crying. He patted her back, trying to console her. Rob and Andrew started down the slope into the trees. Bob hastily called them back. Soon they were all gathered around.

"We need to stay together," he advised, "until we can figure out what happened, where we are, and how to fix it."

He sat there thinking, at a loss for words at this point in time. The landscape was changed. He looked to the north. Instead of the bleak openness of the mine area, there was nothing but trees. Farther north there was no sign of the town. It did not matter in which direction he looked. There was no sign of man, nor of any human habitation.

Bob went inside the cave, and the family followed. He went to the panniers and pulled out his double holster rig with the Colt SAA's. He also got his cross draw double rig, with the good Paterson Colts. He checked each weapon and loaded each one.

He indicated that everyone should put on their personal weapons. The cave became a bustle of industry as the guns were located and donned. Bob passed out the rifles.

He took the big Sharps. He had a bandolier for the .45/120 cartridge and he slung it on. The Winchester went to Rob, and the Henry went to Dana. Andrew and Rebecca each took one of the new Sharps carbines, and each got a box of shells.