Tyranny Among Us [Updated Sundays]

Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Five Miles East of Fort Allen, Northampton County, Pennsylvania

August 1763

"Benjamin, please keep up!" Michael Hawke called back behind him. What is that boy doing? He looked alongside the cart but could not see his son. He let go a heavy sigh. Always exploring, getting into trouble, ever since he was a child.

Michael wiped some sweat from his brow, now pouring down from the heat of the sweltering summer afternoon. The linen lining in his hat began to itch him something fierce, but it was near impossible for him to quell it without completely removing it. On a bright day like today, doing so would mean sun-scorched skin and pain for weeks, so for now he had to deal with the nuisance, despite the twitch developing at the corner of his mouth every time he had an urge to scratch.

But an itchy forehead was the least of his worries. It was dangerous work carting supplies. He might as well have painted a target on his back. As a trapper by profession, Michael and his family were hardpressed to maintain a livable income. It was a tedious life but Michael had the patience required and had developed the skills of the trade years ago as a young man, long before his journey to American shores, while still living in the Palatinate.

The last few months had been difficult for Michael and his family. There was a war on, after all. Since April, the natives had been advancing further east towards Northampton County. With the capture of several frontier forts in the Ohio Territory, Western Pennsylvania, and New York, the on-going siege of Fort Pitt, trading had all been halted along the border townships. Lack of work made Michael desperate.

Local provincial troops stationed at the secondary garrisons and those at the forts to the north of Bethlehem and Easton needed provisions and equipment often. Carts and wagons were sought and men were hired to deliver these goods; Michael was one of the first to accept the job. It paid decently, but it was dangerous work. Thankfully he only had to make the run to all the garrisons once a month, with others delivering supplies on a rotation.

This part of the journey was always the most burdensome and dangerous; it was a two-day ride from Fort Penn, located in Stroudsburg, to Fort Allen, situated above the Lehigh Gap. This region was constantly under threat of Indian attack; it had been this patch of woods that fell under a raid by the savages just eight years ago. Those were melancholy times. And yet here we sit on the edge of another threat of invasion.

"I'm sorry, father." Ben road up beside him; his hark brown horse snorting as he pulled back on the reins.

"Sorry? Sorry?" Michael narrowed an eye and glared through it, "Boy, you don't know what sorry is. You keep holding us up and we're never going to reach the damned Fort."

"Take it easy on him, Michael." A soft hand came to rest on his arm.

Michael groaned at his wife, "Rebecca, you will spoil him."

Ben laughed, "A little late for that, father!"

"You see? What harm could I do now?" Rebecca smiled and Michael momentarily forgot about his itch.

Pulling back on the reins, the two steeds in front of him began to slow. When the cart came to a complete stop under some shade from the tree canopy above, the horses started to stuff their mouths with weeds and high grass along the road-which was little more than grass itself, tamed low by the recent cart traffic over the course of the month-and Michael stood up from his wooden seat to stretch and cool off. Something sharp poked him on his left butt cheek as his linen breeches tightened around him which caused him to jump. "I'll be pulling splinters out of my arse for a few days yet."