Lucky Jim 1-Firehair - Cover

Lucky Jim 1-Firehair

Copyright© 2014 by FantasyLover

Chapter 7: Coal and Adventure

Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 7: Coal and Adventure - Summary: The adventures of 16-year-old Jim Reynolds start in 1856 Virginia. When his family and several others head west to settle near Council Bluffs, his adventures continue, becoming more numerous and earning him the moniker Lucky Jim. Follow Jim as he grows into a leadership role that he feels unqualified to hold, until finally forced to test both his leadership ability and his luck. Another of my "twisted histories."

Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Ma/ft   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Mult   Consensual   Fiction   Historical   Rags To Riches   Western   Alternate History   Incest   Polygamy/Polyamory   First   Oral Sex  

Coal and Adventure

Mar 27, 1857

We left after an early breakfast this morning. Four Sioux warriors and Grey Fox accompanied our eleven wagons as we headed north. Chief Lone Buffalo told me it took four or five days to walk to the location of the coal. With the wagons, it still took four days, mainly because the trail wasn’t a wagon road and we had to cut down trees or clear rocks and fill in ruts where water had previously washed across the game trail we followed.

We were exhausted when we arrived mid-afternoon on the fourth day, and I could definitely see where the coal seam broke through the surface. The site was located where small hills came within two hundred feet of the Missouri River. To the north, the ground angled down thirty feet to the river. To the east, a bluff overlooked the river where it curved to the south. The top of the bluff was thirty feet above the river.

Setting the wagons in a semi-circle between the coal and the river, we set up camp for the night. Every day, I had let the Sioux warriors practice with both the Enfield rifle and the repeating rifle. Broken Hand, one of the Sioux warriors, quickly surpassed me with the Enfield. By now, I was accurate to nearly four hundred yards. Broken Hand was already hitting targets at five hundred yards. This morning, with several of us looking on, he shot the biggest damn elk I’ve ever seen, one weighing at least eight hundred pounds. We field-dressed it, quartered it, and hung the quarters on the meat hooks on the back of our wagons.

Mar 28

The Sioux women who accompanied us dried most of the elk meat to take back with us. Even knowing we would make sure their people had food, the Sioux were proud and insisted on doing as much as they could to feed their own people, as well as to replace their lost food stores. The men hunted every day, and in the week we were there, Broken Hand bagged several deer, a cougar, a huge black bear, and even a bighorn sheep. The other warriors were in awe of Broken Hand’s prowess with the Enfield.

Because of broken bones in his left hand that hadn’t healed properly when he was younger, he had a difficult time using a bow. He adapted the way he held the bow so that he could use it, but he wasn’t nearly as proficient as the others were. With the Enfield, he was like a kid in a candy store, able to shoot game, large predators, and even the bighorn that would have been nearly impossible for anyone to get close enough to with a bow.

Each day, the Sioux women who came with us helped my wives (I think Wendy was considering herself one of my wives by now) and the five wives of men who came with us. They carefully skinned the animals and then butchered them. Nearly every part of the animal was saved to use for something.

While some of the men began mining the coal, four of us set out to document our claim. One man sat atop the hill containing the coal and sketched the surrounding area--sans the work going on digging out the coal. Three of us used two, one-hundred-foot chains and an expensive compass to make our claim as accurate as possible. Surveying was tedious work, but we finally laid out a claim of nine square miles. It encompassed the entire hill, the riverfront, and a small, protected valley that would be good for a garden to provide fresh produce in season for the miners.

After nearly a week, we were satisfied that the spot would be profitable. We left, returning home triumphantly three days later with four wagons filled with coal, and two wagons filled with dried meat and pelts for the Sioux. Almost immediately upon our return, the Sioux warriors were praising Broken Hand’s hunting skills, showing the furs of the animals he had killed.

Evidently, he never had a wife because of his limited hunting ability, and hence his limited ability to provide for a family. With his triumphant return, he received permission to marry the young woman he always wanted as his wife. For a wedding present, I gave him one of the Enfield rifles. I started to object when he gave me the bearskin in return, but Dawn’s boney elbow in my ribs kept me from making a faux pas.

Emma kissed the bruise Dawn left and made it better when we went to bed that night. She kissed a few other things too. The women were still showing Emma how much we had missed her when I fell asleep.

April 5

While I was gone, they planted a thousand acres of oats and a thousand acres of potatoes. They used every plow available to till the prairie soil every day, as well as three new ones Dad bought in Omaha. Wheat and corn would be planted next, followed by barley. Work on the houses slowed slightly with so many people concentrating on plowing and planting.

A dozen new families had arrived while we were gone. The families had originally planned to travel to Oregon to farm or ranch but liked what we had going and asked if they could join us.

The water tower was officially complete and filled with water, providing water to the ten completed or nearly completed houses, as well as the livestock. A hand pump mounted next to the water tower supplied everyone else. From the roof hatch at the top of the water tower, the assigned sentry could see five miles. Emma got the honor of being the first person to use the water closet once they finished installing the clay sewage pipe all the way to the river.

April 6 - 13

After spending a day making my presence known around town, we rode into Omaha to buy the land for the coal mine. The clerk’s eyes widened when we entered his office. “Relax,” I chuckled, “we only want to buy a small plot this time.”

“Small?” he gasped when I showed him the unofficial survey we did. Nevertheless, he managed to handle the transaction by himself, although he had to get approval for the low price of ten thousand dollars I offered. I reasoned that this land was nearly sixty miles to the north, with nothing around it. I had purchased land right outside the territorial capital for two dollars an acre and felt nearly a dollar an acre for this hilly property was a fair offer.

I was surprised when they didn’t even try to haggle. Emma told me later that the politicians were all but claiming that they had personally persuaded me to settle here instead of Kansas City; hence, they were responsible for the upsurge in the local economy and all the new jobs.

I guessed I now needed to make another steamboat trip, this time to find people familiar with coal mining.

While getting ready for the trip, I had the copper and silver each loaded into ten wood crates that held two hundred pounds. I figured I might as well sell it, rather than sit on it. We had already started selling the lead to local merchants, and I planned to use some to make bullets and Minié balls this winter when we were stuck inside with little else to do.

I quickly received lists from each project leader of things to buy and send back. Dawn had started making a new set of buckskins for us, and ended up getting plenty of help from the other Indian women. She insisted that mine be unadorned, knowing I preferred them that way. The ones for the girls, though, were ornately decorated with the beads I bought for Dawn, along with porcupine quills, and buffalo horn hair pipe.

I was actually allowed to help plant the apple orchard. With most of the help busy preparing the fields to plant three thousand acres of corn, they were willing to accept any help getting the ten-acre orchards of apple, peach, and plum trees planted. After four days, I better understood what my wives tried to tell me. Everyone I worked with wanted to hear all about my adventures directly from me, even though they had already heard about them multiple times. Several asked what I planned next. Some were surprised that I didn’t discover gold while surveying for the coal mine.

Returning from a day of work on the peach orchard, I walked into the house to hear a familiar belly laugh. “Captain Roberts!” I exclaimed excitedly as I hurried over and shook his hand. The Captain introduced me to his brother and the four men who worked for his brother, as well as their families.

“As you can see, we’ve got a lot of building going on and can use all the help we can get,” I told the brother, motioning towards the outside of the house.

Captain Roberts had just arrived here for the first time since he left us in Leavenworth. As promised, he brought his brother. Tomorrow he would begin his return to New Orleans, picking up passengers and cargo along the way. “Have you got room for a few more passengers?” I asked.

“You?” he asked excitedly.

“And my wives. We need to hire some men with experience mining coal,” I explained.

Fortunately, we were ready to go. Had I not been able to help with planting the orchards, we would have already left. I asked to have the crates of ingots loaded into wagons, ready to take to the dock in the morning. We did a final check that we had everything we planned to take, especially our weapons and plenty of ammunition.

Apr 14-15

Captain Roberts grinned when he saw us arrive weighed down with our weapons. He especially laughed at seeing me carrying my bow. I explained that I used a bow extensively attacking the house outside of Leavenworth, but he’d already heard the story from Captain Scott. I had twenty-four arrows with me; Dawn had traded with the Kansa for more arrows, getting a good deal when they learned some of the arrows were for me. Men from the Lucky J carried the crates of ingots aboard and stowed them in the stateroom adjoining ours. There was a door between the two rooms, and we left it open, blocking the regular door into the second stateroom closed using the heavy crates of ingots.

We noticed that each member of the crew now sported a repeating rifle and a new S&W revolver, and that they had fortified the position we used to fire from with two-inch thick oak planks. Promptly at 7:00, the Iowa Dream began pulling away from the docks amidst a lot of cheering. I was touched that so many of our people came out early to see us depart.

Captain Roberts insisted that we eat our meals at his table and assured us that our buckskins would be appropriate attire. He commented on the ornate beadwork on the girls’ tunics, as well as teasing me that there seemed to be a new woman with us that he didn’t recognize. I told him that Wendy was the first of the women I rescued when I attacked the house near Leavenworth, and she was the one who released the slaves.

He asked about any new adventures, and I related that we just bought land to open a coal mine right on the Missouri River about sixty miles upriver from us. “Hell, you can sell the coal directly to the riverboats when they come by. You won’t even have to haul it into town to sell it,” he laughed.

“I thought the steamboats used wood,” I protested, then felt dumb when I remembered that Dad had sold the four wagons of coal to a company supplying coal to the steamboats.

“We prefer coal, but there are few places we can buy it cheaply. A ton of coal produces more than twice as much power as a ton of wood,” he explained, adding, “and it’s a lot easier to load.” When I explained about the bluff overlooking the river, he suggested that we set up bins on the bluff. Each bin should be measured to hold a ton of coal. When a boat wanted coal, we would simply move a chute into place, open the bin, and let the coal slide down the chute to the boat. With a long enough chute, we could probably dump the coal right into the boat’s storage bins, saving the crew the task of having to shovel it in.

I thanked him for the advice and made a mental note to tell our carpenters about the idea when we opened the mine. He asked when we planned to open the mine, and I explained that I was hoping to find men to work in the mine, and especially men who already had mining experience.

The captain looked at me thoughtfully for a few seconds. “I may know just the person. He runs a coal mine in Missouri right now. New owners bought the mine a few months ago. They’re bringing in slaves to do the mining, and he wants nothing to do with overseeing slaves. If he could afford it, he would have quit when they brought in the first batch of slaves,” he explained.

Unfortunately, the location was in southeast Missouri, requiring a lengthy overland trip to reach it. I promised to reach him as soon as I could, but needed someone sooner to get the mine started.

“You need a mining engineer,” he said. “How far are you planning to travel?” he asked.

“Not sure,” I replied. “I hoped to find some people with coal mining experience in St. Joseph and Kansas City. I know there are numerous coal mines in Missouri. I also figured that we could find men looking for work,” I explained.

Looking at him, I could see that the captain had something on his mind. “You’re against slavery, right?” he asked.

Nodding, I explained about taking on the men in Illinois who kidnapped free Negroes and sold them back into slavery and about freeing all the Negroes from the house near Leavenworth.

“If you had a chance to help a slave escape, would you?” he asked nervously.

“If I felt confident that it could be done safely, yes,” I replied.

“If you come to New Orleans with me, I know a good mine engineer, and can arrange for you to get up to a hundred Negro men who’ll need someplace to go and a job--if you’re interested,” he said cautiously, yet with a great deal of emotion in his voice.

“I’m interested,” I replied, “and have a feeling this endeavor will be combining steamboat travel and a form of railroad travel,” I added, feeling that the good captain had some knowledge of the Underground Railroad.

“Possibly,” he answered. “Would you still be interested if it did?” he asked. Since they would be involved, too, I looked at my wives. They were all nodding.

“We agree,” I said.

“Good, now all we have to do is get there,” he replied. “Two steamboats disappeared in the last month, somewhere between St. Joseph and Kansas City. One disappeared four weeks ago, just after you raided that house. A second boat disappeared two weeks ago. Usually, in such a highly traveled part of the river, someone would have seen something if the boat sank. If the boiler exploded, there would be debris floating downstream or washed up along the shore. There would also be survivors, usually a lot of them. Yet, both boats just disappeared completely,” he explained.

“I guess we need to be extra vigilant after St. Joseph, then,” I answered.

The trip to St. Joseph was just like the last one. Each time we stopped for wood, the five of us were in our favorite spot, armed with an Enfield, two repeating rifles each, two Colt Navy revolvers, an S&W revolver, and a shotgun. We spent the night tied up at a different dock than we did when we were aboard the Chippewa. Captain Roberts had two men on guard duty all night. By leaving earlier in the morning, we were in St. Joseph by 8:30.

Since we were continuing on to New Orleans, we didn’t have time to debark for shopping. Instead, I sat in my favorite observation post, the reinforced upper deck railing, watching people as they boarded. Since we were traveling south, nobody boarding on this trip would be headed west. I noted earlier that the number of passengers headed south was roughly half the number headed north.

The first people to board were a young couple dressed fashionably enough to make my skin itch thinking about what it would be like to wear that type of clothing. They were obviously in love, and I wondered if they were newlyweds.

Several groups of three to five single men boarded, usually with another passenger or two between the groups. Unlike the other passengers, they carried only a bedroll, which I found odd. Usually, passengers had at least saddlebags or a carpet bag. As usual, the boat was unloaded and reloaded in a remarkably short time, and we were once again southbound. Finding my wives in our stateroom, I kissed each of them and told them I was going snooping. They knew that I enjoyed meeting new people and getting to know a little about them.

I was right about the young couple. They had married two days ago and were traveling to New Orleans for several days. Several other passengers were merchants or had farms or ranches and were in St. Joseph to arrange to have supplies shipped to them.

I found the single men who came aboard with no luggage congregated near the bow of the boat talking in hushed tones. As I approached, one of them rudely shoved me away, telling me to get lost. Hmmmmm...

After taking a quick head count of the men, I found Captain Roberts and told him what I’d noticed and how the men acted. I could identify twenty-six men as having come aboard with nothing more than their weapons and a bedroll, and all were together near the bow. He immediately began issuing orders to his crew, warning them about the men, and ordering armed guards to watch the men all day.

Since neither of the two missing boats stopped in Leavenworth after leaving St. Joseph, any attack would occur in the next few hours. Once I informed the captain, I hurried to warn the girls. Within minutes, their weapons were out and checked to be sure that they were fully loaded. If the attack was from men already aboard, revolvers would probably be the weapon of choice, although we made sure we had our repeating rifles and plenty of extra shells for the shotguns.

The women stayed in the stateroom for now. Having all five of us walking around the boat fully armed might give away our suspicion. I found a good spot where I could observe the men on the first deck, while watching the closest set of stairs up to the second deck.

I was so intent on my targets that I didn’t notice when my wives joined me. “The captain says we’ll be stopping for wood soon,” Emma advised me. That news put me on edge. They couldn’t pick a better time to attack than when most of the men were off the boat chopping or loading firewood.

We were especially watchful as the boat stopped to load wood and I was surprised when the men I was watching jumped off to help. Still, I watched them closely, wondering if they had reinforcements waiting here.

When they were finished loading the wood, and everyone was back aboard, the boat pulled away from shore. I was just wondering if I’d been mistaken when several of the men picked up lengths of firewood and clubbed other male passengers who were nearby. They were getting ready to dump the unconscious men overboard when we began shooting. The unconscious bodies were quickly forgotten as the men dove for cover and returned fire.

Our firing alerted the crew, who were intent on completing the firewood transfer, and we quickly caught the pirates in a crossfire. When a bullet from a revolver whizzed by my head, I realized that it came from behind us and spun, pulled the S&W from the cross-draw holster, and shot the surprised pirate who was near the middle of the second deck. “Emma, watch to your right, they have men on the second deck,” I warned.

Just after she turned, she fired, hitting one of the pirates. The bullet’s impact knocked him dramatically over the railing. Taking my revolvers and a shotgun, I made my way cautiously down the long walkway. As my revolver cleared a corner in front of me, someone shot. The bullet hit the corner, sending splinters flying.

I turned my gun down the walkway and blindly fired three shots. The third elicited a scream so I chanced a look. The man I shot had been hit in the shoulder. When the shot hit him, he stumbled backwards into his partner allowing me a good shot at his now-distracted partner. I ran over and kicked their guns away, using the butt of my revolver to knock the wounded man out.

I spun and brought my gun up when the door next to me opened and was looking into the wide, terrified eyes of the newlywed woman. “Do either of you know how to use a revolver?” I asked. She nodded, still too frightened to be able to form words. “Guard this one in your room and stay there until one of the crew comes for him,” I ordered as I slid both revolvers from the pirates into the rooms. “And drag him inside and keep an eye on him. I’d prefer him alive when this is over so we can ask questions, but don’t hesitate to shoot him if he tries anything,” I said. As her new husband dragged the man into the room, I crept down the hall to the next intersection.

The firing gradually wound down. “Is that all of them?” someone shouted.

“I think so,” Emma shouted back. The crew did a quick count and found twenty-two dead pirates. Counting the pirate who fell overboard and the one now tied up and guarded by the newlyweds, we were two short. After they thoroughly checked below deck and the main deck (there are numerous places to hide among the cargo), we began a thorough search of the second deck and the topside where the wheelhouse was, up where we usually kept watch while they loaded firewood.

When the men still weren’t located, we began searching cabin by cabin. My wives moved to the upper deck to keep watch for more boats trying to sneak up on us while the crew stationed men at each intersection of the passageways where they could see someone exiting a room. Once I checked my room and the adjoining room, I checked the room next to us. Even before I knocked, I was certain that the two men were inside.

“Mrs. Caldwell, it’s me, Jim,” I called out through the closed door. My wives had met her and her two daughters. The three women got to know us better, and the two daughters were intrigued that I had four wives. When she answered the door, I could see that she was terrified. When I held up two fingers, and mimicked a revolver, she nodded.

“I just wanted to let you know that we got them all. It’s safe to come out now,” I said loud enough for the men hiding inside the room to hear me.

“Thank you, Jim. I think we’ll relax in here for a while. We had quite a fright,” she replied, and then closed the door. I left, but told the two crewmen watching the passageway that both pirates were in Mrs. Caldwell’s stateroom, and were holding her and her daughters as hostages.

Unfortunately, the only way into the room was through the door, and I was sure the men would be watching it closely, hoping to sneak off the boat after dark. Then I remembered something I saw when she opened the door, and I went to find the captain.

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