Curt, settling back into his bedroll and turned to face Kevin. He whispered, "I can't believe this! How did this happen?"
Kevin whispered, "Well, I don’t know, but the situation is what it is, and it doesn't look like we're going to get out of it anytime soon, if ever."
And Kevin got a catch in his throat as he said "if ever" as he thought about his father and mother and the possibility of never seeing them again.
"What are we going to do?" whispered Curt.
Kevin thought for a moment, "Well, we can pray. God was… er… is also here in what I figure is the year 1854. We also need to survive. Somehow, some way, we may have a chance to get out of this — whatever it is — and get back home. Until we can figure out what's going on, I think we need to play ball with these guys. You know, fit in; gain their trust."
Curt paused for a long minute as he pondered Kevin's words. Finally, he whispered, "You're right. I'll buy that. Makes sense."
Long minutes passed. Only an occasional snort from the staked horses on the far side of the camp broke the silence of the camp and the forest.
"Kevin? Kevin? You asleep?" whispered Curt.
"No. What?" whispered Kevin.
"You know the guy they call 'Mr. Carson'? I just figured out who he is — that's Kit Carson, the famous frontiersman in the 1800s."
"Wow, I think you're right. But he's not very big. Doesn't quite match the legend, I think. You sure it's him?" whispered Kevin.
"Yeah, pretty sure. Think about it. How many Carsons do you know from history who spoke Apache — I'm pretty sure that's what the scout is, Apache — and a Kit Carson would have no problem talking with him, and our Carson didn't."
"I see the logic," whispered Kevin.
There was silence for about a minute and then Curt whispered,"O-o-o! I just had a thought! How about my GPS receiver? I can get a fix on our position. If this is some kind of a time warp, we may need to get back to this spot in order to get back to our own time. Oh, wait… that won't work. Forget it. If we're in 1854, there's no satellites."
"Nice try. Get some sleep, Curt."
~~~
Through an opening in the canopy of trees on the moonless night, Kevin saw two meteors streak across the star-studded sky in parallel.
The two grains of cosmic dirt seared the night sky for a moment and then disappeared.
An omen? As a Christian, should that even be a question?
As he wrestled with that question and his and Curt's plight, Kevin's head began to hurt even more.
Chapter Nine
The New "Recruits"
Kevin was startled awake — someone was kicking his blanketed feet!
"Cheers, me lad. And wake up ya friend. We be back on the trail soon."
And, with that rough, gruff, non-coddling start to Kevin's day, First Sergeant O'Malley turned and disappeared into the darkness.
Kevin reached over to Curt in his bedroll and pushed hard several times on the blanket wrapped figure. Curt turned over with a groan.
"Hey. Get up. We're moving out."
"Dude, it's pitch black. And, br-r-r, cold! No way. I want to sleep."
"Can't. Get up. Looks like these guys like to get an early start. Remember our plan to fit in. So, get up. Get your boots on. C'mon. Get up. Roll up your bedroll. Let's look like we got our act together. We need to survive this thing."
Curt groaned, but finally extricated himself from his bedroll, his breath creating clouds of white condensation in the cold of the dark morning.
The rest of the camp was stirring with activity also. Kevin no sooner got his work boots laced and stood up when a horsehandler brought both their horses already saddled, and handed the lead ropes to Kevin.
When the horsehandler left, Curt asked, "Do you think they left them saddled all night?"
"Don't know. Probably. They'd be able to mount up quicker if attacked," replied Kevin.
"Attacked? Man, that never crossed my mind. I'm glad they're saddled though; I doubt we could have done it."
"Aw, c'mon. I think we could have done it. See that long strap that goes under the horse's belly?"
In the dim starlight, Kevin, still holding the tethers, directed Curt's attention to the saddle cinch.
"Check it out. See how it's attached? Squeeze a couple of fingers between the strap — I think it's called a 'cinch' — but squeeze your fingers between the cinch and the horse to see how tight the cinch is. Check the saddle blanket, too. See where it's position on the horses back and see where the saddle is on the blanket? I think we could saddle up, if we had to," said Kevin.
Curt said, "How do you know all this stuff?"
"Elementary, my dear Watson. Elementary."
"Okay, Sherlock. Seriously, you sure are calm about all of this," replied Curt.
"Well, I've got faith. God says that all things work together for good to those who love the Lord. I love him, and whatever situation we're in, I know he is by my side. Am I scared? Yeah, but only of the unknown. Even then, God says his shield will protect me."
~~~
And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose. Romans 8:28 NKJV
~~~
“The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer;
The God of my strength, in whom I will trust;
My shield and the horn of my salvation,
My stronghold and my refuge; 2 Samuel 22:2-3 NKJV
~~~
Although still dark and cold, a sudden thought hit Kevin. "We need to take off our windbreakers!"
"Why? How come? It's cold."
"Well, first they're red and make for great targets. Second, they're nylon. Nylon wasn't even invented until maybe the 1930s. Then there's the zippers. I remember from a trivia game or maybe it was on TV but at the time I was surprised to find out that zippers weren't around until like after World War I. So, if we don't take off our windbreakers, we're going to be trying to answer a whole lot of questions that we don't have answers for, know what I mean? It's still dark enough, hopefully, nobody has noticed yet."
"You're right. But what about our backpacks?"
"Oh, man, you're right. Nylon, too. And we got another problem…" said Kevin.
"Like what?"
"Velcro, bro. Velcro. My pockets have Velcro fasteners. So do our backpacks. I seem to remember that Velcro came out in the '50s — and I don't mean 1850. So, we got a problem: How do we hide Velcro?"
"Yeah, and what about our canteens and army surplus belts? They're all like World War II or Korean War, maybe Vietnam War vintage."
"I think we've got some serious problems if we get asked about this stuff," Kevin said. "Oh! And, wow! Our cell phones! Our cell phones will blow their minds! And your GPS thing! We got to keep those really hidden."
Kevin paused for a moment and then said, "You know, actually, it's weird we weren't asked about some of this stuff yesterday — my rifle got their attention, but, they didn't ask about anything else, although the lieutenant gave me a hard once over and remarked that we looked strange and we'd have some explaining to do later, remember?"
"Oh, yeah. I remember."
"So, let's think about how we're going to handle any questions that get thrown our way."
After a few seconds, Curt said, "I know. We could tell them that we knew someone in Albuquerque who was with the Army and he gave this stuff to us."
"Well, if you're talking about the canteens and belts, I don’t think so. If we're asked, let's just tell them the truth — we bought them in a shop in Albuquerque as army surplus. That answer may raise some eyebrows and raise a question like why their unit hasn't been supplied stuff like ours, but that'll be their problem. We'll have at least told the truth," replied Kevin. "On the other hand, that does not solve the problem with the nylon and the zippers and the Velcro."
Then Kevin added, "You know, th
ere's another issue here."
Curt said, "No, what?"
"We've got to be careful whatever we say or do doesn't somehow affect future history. You know what I mean? I mean, if we tell them we're from the future — or they figure it out — what are they going to expect from us? I mean, zippers and nylon and Velcro are not the only things we know about that's in the future — we know about other inventions, and the Civil War, and other wars, and slavery, and things like Lincoln's assassination… and cars, and telephones, and computers. My head hurts to think what else," replied Kevin.
The two sat there for a minute and then Curt said, "Hey, I know what: Let's just leave the backpacks and windbreakers behind. You know, hide them. Do we really need them, now?"
Kevin thought for a moment, weighing the idea then he said, "You know what? You're a genius! I think you're right. We don't need them. Yeah! Let's ditch them. The dragoons will supply what we need. Here, hold the lead ropes and give me your backpack and windbreaker."
So, in the darkness, pretending to go into the woods to relieve himself, Kevin hid their backpacks and windbreakers deep in some scrub brush and returned to camp.
Upon Kevin's return, Curt said, "I've got an idea on the cell phones. Why don't you give me yours, and I'll put it in one of my boot tops and my cell and GPS in the other boot. The sixteen-inch stovepipes have more than enough room. What do think?"
"Genius, again!" replied Kevin, and he carefully hid his movement, even though it was still too dark for any of the dragoons to see, as he handed over his cell phone to Curt.
Curt, equally secretive, placed his cell phone and GPS receiver and Kevin's cell phone in his boot tops.
Then another thought struck Kevin, "Our wristwatches! No such thing for men in 1854. I remember seeing on the Antiques Roadshow TV program that only women wore them back then — I mean now — I mean in 1854. We need to take ours off. Put 'em our pockets."
"Good thinking."
"I got extra room in my cargo shorts. Give me your watch and I'll put it in one of my pockets," said Kevin.
"Okay, but I'll bet your camo cargoes already have their attention. I mean, I don't remember ever seeing any camouflaged uniforms in any of the John Wayne westerns, much less shorts. I mean guys' shorts as a fashion statement have not been around all that many years, I don't think. And your Velcro pocket fasteners could be a problem, too. Your John Deere cap's gotta get their attention, too — I'm guessing there's no such thing as baseball styled caps in the 1850s. Know what I mean?"
"You're probably right. I think John Deere and his new steel plows were probably known even then, but a baseball cap style and the fancy machine stitching of the logo could raise questions, you're right. I need it for sun protection, though. I guess we'll just have to play some of this stuff — actually, the whole thing — by ear until we can figure out what's happening."
~~~
A few minutes later, cinches checked and tightened, and bedrolls secured behind their respective saddles, Kevin and Curt were next to their horses ready to mount up at the command to do so.
Curt said, "I think we need to do something with these lead ropes. We can't just leave them hanging."
"Ah, you're right. I remember seeing like a noose knot under the horses' necks yesterday. Come to think of it, that's what a rider must do with the lead rope — must swing it over the horse's neck and connect the loose end with the halter end using a noose knot. Problem is I don't know how to make a noose knot. Do you?"
"You may know saddles, but I know ropes. Of course, I do," replied Curt. "Pay attention now."
And, with that half-mocking comment, Curt placed the loose end of his horse's lead rope over the horse's neck, made a loop with the halter end, looped the loose end through the loop, and wound the rope down the loop, making a coiled bundle.
"Piece o' cake. Now, all you gotta do is pull it a bit snug like this — how snug were the ones you saw yesterday?"
"Fairly loose. Maybe hanging down about ten or twelve inches from the horse's neck."
"Like this?" and Curt snugged the lead rope to the looseness Kevin had described.
"Yeah. Looks good."
"Okay, bro. Now it's your turn. Show me you were paying attention," teased Curt.
Kevin did a respectable noose knot on the lead rope for his horse on his second try.
Kevin and Curt had no sooner finished securing their respective lead ropes when the first sergeant loomed out of the waning darkness, did a quick inspection by tugging on the saddles and noting the bedrolls were in place behind the saddles.
"Atta boy, me lads," he said with a bit of warmth returning, and walked away.
Curt and Kevin grinned at each other.
Several minutes passed, and Curt, holding the reins of his horse and stroking the horse's neck, was idly looking around when he looked up and through an opening in the trees, said, "Dude, check out the stars. They're awesome!"
Kevin said, "Did you know someplace in the Bible it says that God stretched out the heavens using one hand? You got to agree that's a pretty big God. None bigger."
Curt let Kevin's words soak in. After several heartbeats, Curt said, "Uh-huh. Yeah. That's big, alright."
~~~
Indeed My hand has laid the foundation of the earth,
And My right hand has stretched out the heavens; Isaiah 48:13NKJV
Chapter Ten
Corporal Yates, Jenny, and Jericho
The command came from the first sergeant: "Mount up. Column of Twos. Look lively, now!"
In the predawn darkness, the sky had lightened to a point where riders and horses were visible but detail indistinguishable.
The lieutenant and his big roan Morgan took the column lead, followed by the first sergeant on his bay Morgan. The buckskin-clad assumed-to-be Kit Carson and his pinto were to the first sergeant's right. Kevin and Curt's Morgans again self-guided themselves with little urging to the obvious opening behind the first sergeant and Kit Carson's mounts.
Kevin ended up positioned behind the first sergeant and Curt behind Kit Carson.
Kevin noted that the scout was apparently long gone, doing what scouts do.
The first sergeant, saluting the lieutenant, said, "Ready, sir."
The lieutenant returned the salute and then raised his left arm, his white gauntlet-gloved hand barely visible in the pre-dawn and commanded, "Forward, Ho!" and lowered his arm.
Kevin and Curt's first day as members of Company H, First Dragoons had begun.
~~~
Although Kevin was apprehensive about their situation, he had no idea how terrifying and grave it would become later in the day.
~~~
No more than five minutes had passed in the semi-darkness on the trail when the lieutenant made a seemingly off-hand request of Kit Carson when he said, "Mr. Carson, if y'all'd be so kind as to come up here and ride next to me, ah would be most grateful for your company, sir."
Kit Carson urged his horse forward to take up position to the lieutenant's right, and with a momentary single file juggling of positions, the first sergeant and his horse dropped behind Kevin so that Kevin and Curt remained side-by-side but now directly behind the lieutenant and Carson.
Kevin tried to analyze the situation: Either the lieutenant was looking for social company, although that seemed to be a stretch because the lieutenant had not seemed to Kevin to be all that gregarious or talkative, being more caught up in that affected aloof personality that command, at least in the lieutenant's opinion, dictated.
The other possibility was that the lieutenant, although from all appearances an excellent horseman, either was not familiar with the trail or was having difficulty picking up signs of the scout who had left earlier and who was scouting a quarter-mile ahead of the column.
Whatever the lieutenant's motive, Kevin noted as the day wore on that although Carson would periodically point out a feature of the landscape such as Redondo Peak or cite the names of the
creeks or canyons ahead and their distance, casual conversation was notably lacking.
~~~
What surprised both Kevin and Curt, as they would talk about it later, was the diminutive stature of Kit Carson now that they could see him plainly and up close in the daylight.
Kevin guessed that Carson was no more than five feet and a couple of inches tall. Curt guessed five-foot, four inches. Regardless of Carson's small stature, Carson's powerfully built physique impressed Kevin and Curt. Even Carson's fringed buckskin sleeves and leggings appeared strained to contain his muscular arms and thighs.
Later, when Kevin and Curt discussed Carson, they agreed that what little they remembered from references to Kit Carson in their American history classes, each had him mentally pictured as a strapping giant of a man to match his "giant" deeds found in the history books.
They concluded strapping he was; giant, he was not.
~~~
To keep his mind off his aching back and numbed bottom side, Kevin made a game of trying to hear Carson and the lieutenant's infrequent dialogue with each other.
The lieutenant appeared begrudgingly deferential to Carson. Carson, in turn, seemed to be tolerating his companion, all the while, exuding a level of confidence and competency that the lieutenant could not match, and the lieutenant knew it. In addition, Carson seemed to delight at the lieutenant's barely suppressed anger when Carson would occasionally nudge the lieutenant's steed gently to the left with his pinto when the lieutenant missed the need to go left on the trail.
To Kevin and Curt riding behind and observing the lieutenant and Carson, it was obvious the two men were not fond of each other.
~~~
The trail and the company of dragoons angled north. The trail featured steep slopes of dense conifers and an occasional dip into and out of a canyon. The trail often wound around massive rock formations — complex formations of ancient cooled lavas, welded tuff, and rock from ancient faults and uplifts.
By mid-morning, after five hours in the saddle, the dragoons came upon Redondo Creek winding through a meadow of grass and small yellow mountain flowers.
The lieutenant called a rest halt, and the dragoons and Kevin and Curt dismounted, and following the lead of the other dragoons, unknotted lead ropes, and led their horses to the banks of the creek where the horses drank their fill.
When the turbidity of the creek had settled, the dragoons began filling their canteens. Kevin and Curt, conscious of their uniquely shaped canteens verses the round canteens of the dragoons, walked about thirty feet upstream from the nearest dragoon and filled their almost empty canteens, discretely adding a water purification tablet in each.