Safely Home: A New England Historical Novel

By Nancy Morley

This book stays with the characters from the previous book in the series and follows them through the many difficulties of the last of the French and Indian Wars. Readers will travel back and forth to various places in New Enland as the settlers either stay in Broad Bay or leave for a safer environment.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 30, 2014
• ISBN: 9781491842935

Nancy Morley

This is the second book in the author's "home" series. The first book in the series "Finding Home" was well received. Nancy grew up in Massachusetts, spent most of her life in Maine and now lives in New Hampshire and is interested in the history of the early settlers in these states.

Book preview

© 2014 Nancy Morley. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 01/25/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4918-4295-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-4294-2 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-4293-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013922679

Map drawing by Samantha Holmgren used with permission.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Prologue

Travel by Ship Along the Coast of New England

Written in gratitude for all of the Thains.

And with thanks to my friend and editorial assistant, Pat Osgood.

Chapter One

T he community at Broad Bay had gathered for their Sabbath day worship. The weather was fine on this first day of May in 1754. The tide was high just before noon, so the settlers on the west side of the Medomak were able to ferry across to the meetinghouse on the east side of the river.

They sat on split log benches waiting to hear from their lay pastor, John Ulmer. The first hymn was announced, the congregation stood, and Theodore Hersch played the tune through once on his violin. The congregation sang the first verse of A Mighty Fortress Is Our God in unison and broke into harmony on the second verse.

A stranger stepping into this meetinghouse would see a group of people who could qualify as poor. The men had long untrimmed beards. The women had dresses that were worn ragged in places where the bumping of water buckets or hot kettles constantly touched them. Older children were barefoot. They had outgrown their shoes and had none to replace them. Younger children wore shoes that had belonged to their older siblings and clothes that were either too small or made over versions of a larger child’s cast offs. However there was nothing poor about their singing. It was rich and full.

After the final verse was sung, the congregation sat down to listen to Ulmer read the scriptures. He stood—Bible in hand—and began speaking. "There are times when a particular section of scripture seems to speak only of the history of a long ago people. Then there are other times when a section of scripture seems to speak to the time we are living in right now. I am going to read this morning from Paul’s letter to the Galatians, and it seems to be perfect for us right here today. Do not be deceived; God is not mocked, for whatever a man sows, that he will also reap. So then, as we have every opportunity, let us do good to all men.

"I found this passage of scripture two days ago after I had been talking with General Waldo. He shared both frightening and good news with me. The frightening news is that the Indians encouraged by the French have began to try and rid America of all settlers who have been brought here by the English—settlers like us.

"The good news is that the Penobscot tribe did not join with the other tribes in planning to drive English settlers, or those who have been brought here by an Englishman like General Waldo, off this land.

"We have come to know the Penobscots as friends, and apparently they think of us in the same way. We have heard the natives called savages; however, we have not seen any savage behavior from the Penobscots for eight years. We see these natives come in the spring to pluck the immature fern from the swamp. Many of us have traded with them for these vegetables—a welcome green after a long white winter.

"We have watched them picking blueberries and digging for shellfish. They know there are plenty of both of these items here. They don’t seem to mind sharing them with us, and we have gladly shared them knowing the natives had been harvesting these foods long before we arrived.

"Now, as this scripture reminds us, we are reaping the benefits of our willingness to share and the keeping of promises. Our proprietor, Samuel Waldo, promised the natives that he would not allow any settlement beyond the salt water. As I am sure you have noticed, there are no settlers beyond the falls where the fresh water begins.

God is truly watching over us here in Broad Bay. The Penobscots have not only made an agreement with Governor Shirley to do us no harm, they have also promised that they will warn us if any other tribes enter the area.

There was more singing and reciting of familiar prayers before the meeting ended for their mid-day meal. Each family had brought food that had either been cooked the day before or very early in the morning. Benches were carried out into the sun, and families gathered close to relatives and friends, while the older boys went to the spring to bring back buckets of water for people to dip in for a refreshing drink.

Edna Allen sat with her husband Edmund and her stepson Herbert. Also sitting with them were Anna Hammon, who would soon be seven, and 16 year old Constance DuBeau. The families of Anna and Constance had immigrated with Edna. While the parents of both girls were indentured in Boston, the girls would remain in Edna’s care.

Edna’s brother, Joseph Erler, his wife Gladys, and their two-year-old son little Joseph sat on a bench behind the Allens. Little Joseph didn’t sit for long. He kept going back and forth between his parent’s bench and the bench in front. He loved to play with Anna.

Next to them were Edna’s brother William with his wife Lillian and their baby Will, who would soon be a year old.

The Kahns sat on the bench just to the left of Edna, and it was easy to tell there was some unhappiness in the Kahn family. Edna thought they were probably exhausted from the long winter. They had arrived last November—too late to complete a cabin—and had lived with other new settlers in the meetinghouse for the winter. Edna knew these couldn’t be the best of conditions.

She remembered her first winter here in her brother William’s cabin. They had run short of supplies before winter was over. Ever since, Edna had tried to make sure her family had plenty of supplies for the long winter months.

Anna, Edna said. Here is our basket of boiled eggs. You can share them with Rachel and Leah and their parents.

Anna quickly took the basket to the Kahn girls and folded back the cloth that covered the eggs. I gathered these this morning, she said—quite pleased to have a chance to brag.

Rachel took an egg and began to speak. Thank you.

Rachel, John Kahn interrupted harshly. You know how to speak properly.

"Danke." Rachel said. She cast her eyes down in obvious embarrassment at being scolded in front of Anna.

That’s all right, Anna said. We still speak English sometimes too.

Leah took an egg and was careful to use the correct language. "Danke."

John and Olga Kahn both accepted an egg as well. Olga looked upset at the outburst of her husband.

Little Joseph came running to Anna. Egg for Jofes, he said.

Anna took his hand and directed him back to the bench where Edna sat. She cracked an egg and peeled it for Joseph. She did the same with her own egg. Whatever Anna did, Joseph wanted to do. He sat down next to her, and they each ate an egg.

Edna had another basket with sliced rye bread that she had slathered with butter before leaving home. She held the basket out to her husband, who took a piece and then passed the basket to Herbert. The basket was returned to Edna who helped herself to a piece.

Olga, John, Edna said as she held out the basket. A piece of bread and butter?

"Danke, Olga said. Do you have enough?"

Oh yes. Now that winter is over and we can easily get about, I make bread once a week. There is an outside oven at my brother Joseph’s. His wife Gladys invites me and my other sister-in-law Lillian over each time they fire up the oven. Bread making day is special for us.

This seems extra good, Olga said.

It is the buttermilk I put in it.

You must have a cow then, Olga said.

Not one that is giving milk yet, Edna said. People often give me buttermilk in trade for something they need in my shop.

Olga passed the basket of bread and butter to her husband. "Danke," he said.

Edna could feel the emotional strain between the members of the Kahn family but wasn’t sure what to say. How is your cabin coming along? Edmund tells me it is nearly finished.

"Ja, John said. It has gone well with so much help from the other men."

I’m sure it will be good to be in your own cabin. Edna said. When do you plan to make the move?

We hope to move our belongings tomorrow. Ulmer has offered to announce the need for sleds and men to move our family and the others who have been living in the meetinghouse.

When everyone had finished eating, the children joined together in various forms of play, while the adults stayed together for their usual Sunday afternoon meeting.

It is a fine day, Ulmer announced. So we can stay out here for our meeting, if all are in agreement.

Heads nodded as everyone sat to listen.

The first order of business is concerning the French and Indians, Ulmer said. "Waldo told me to warn everyone to be cautious if they see any Indians who are strangers. I know this is going to be difficult because it is hard to tell at a distance whether anyone is a stranger or a friend. In case there is any trouble, Waldo suggested that we begin to prepare the meetinghouse to serve as a garrison for protection.

"Although we have had no trouble in this area, places to the southwest of us have had raids on outlying settlements.

Tomorrow the new settlers, who have been living in the meetinghouse, need help moving their belongings. They have their cabins built and are ready to move in. After that, I will meet with the men on this side of the river to decide how to fortify the meetinghouse.

William and Joseph offered to haul belongings on their sleds for those who were making the move to their own cabins. Besides the Kahns, there were two single men. The Kahns had immigrated with those who came on the ship Priscilla. The single men had come on the New Brunswick.

It was going to be a long haul, as the community kept spreading out further and further toward the mouth of the Medomak.

The men left with their sleds and oxen early in the morning. Joseph had the fire burning in the outside oven before he left to help move the settlers.

Edna had put her bread to rising the previous night so it would be ready for baking in the morning. She along with Constance and Anna walked to the home of Gladys and Joseph. Lillian walked from the opposite direction and their method of baking many loves of bread in a day began.

Constance and Anna looked after little Joseph and Will while the women looked after the baking of bread. They stopped for a mid-day meal while the bread cooled.

Edna had planned to be the one to carry some of the bread to the new settlers, but as the women sat together eating, Constance offered to take the bread. You should not be walking that far, Aunt Edna, she said.

That is right, Gladys put in. You don’t want your baby to be born too soon. Six month babies don’t survive.

Edna automatically put her hand to her swollen stomach. She was the guardian of this unborn child, and it amazed her how protective of it she felt.

Let Constance take it, Edna, Lillian said. Gladys and I have our boys to look after, so we can’t go. Constance is the best choice.

Well then, Edna said. Anna should go with her.

I’ll go, Anna said. I can carry some of the bread.

Edna reluctantly agreed. The girls should be able to get home before dark. The sun stayed a long time in May. She watched them go. Anna carried a basket with two loaves and Constance had a larger basket with four.

They will be alright, Lillian said. There is very little to harm them along the way.

It is difficult for me, Edna confessed. I feel such a large responsibility for those girls.

Lillian and Gladys put their boys down for a nap together. Lillian would go on home when Will woke up.

Edna left to go to her home. Gladys had given her a crock of milk to take with her and she also had two loaves of bread for her own family. There was no need to hurry. She didn’t expect anyone at the shop. People knew her supplies were low. A trip to Boston was needed to replenish her dry goods.

As she neared the cabin, Edna could see Edmund and Herbert sloshing about in the mud at low tide. Their small wharf was complete. They had worked very hard at getting upright poles into the mud at low tide, and then they laid a short wharf that ended above the tide line.

The wharf would be where they would keep their newly completed sloop tied. The boat had been finished late last fall, and Edmund had stitched a sail during the winter with sailcloth he had purchased in Boston.

Now he and his son were building a slide to get the boat from the dry land down into the river. They were so excited about getting ready to launch their boat that they didn’t seem to care about the mud they were working in.

Edna called to them and they waved back. This boat will be both a blessing and a worry, Edna thought. Having their own sloop meant that they could get their own supplies from Boston. They would not have to pay to ride the Waldo sloop. Edmund was also anxious to visit his brother Fred who, as far as they knew, was living on Monhegan Island.

The down side of all this was that Edmund and Herbert would probably be off on the boat quite frequently. Edna did not like the idea of them being off on the water where she couldn’t see them. She liked knowing that her family was safe and close at hand.

Inside the house, Edna put the crock of milk in the root cellar on the shelf that Edmund had built right at the bottom of the stairs. Things kept nice and cool in the cellar. She put the newly baked bread on the shelf in the main cabin room that served as kitchen, sitting room and shop. She kept the bread wrapped in the cloth in which she had carried it home.

She went into her room and checked on her cabbage plants that were on a table by the south facing window. Some of the seeds had begun to sprout. It pleased her to see them. She felt the soil to see if it needed watering and stood for a minute looking out the window. The sun was in the west now. She hoped that Anna and Constance had arrived at the Kahns and would soon be starting home.

As Edna passed the looking glass, she stopped to check her appearance. She was the only person, as far as she knew, in all of Broad Bay that owned a looking glass. This was because of Edmund who, before they married, made sure that Edna had the type of room a fine woman needed.

When he had arrived in Broad Bay a year ago, he lived in Edna’s small cabin because his son was already there. Edna had been looking after Herbert since he was ten. Edmund was a seaman who gave up the trade in order to make a permanent home for his son.

Edmund hadn’t been in Broad Bay for long when he suggested that he and Edna marry. It seemed the natural thing to do. Herbert already loved Edna as though she was his mother, and she loved him like a son.

When Edna agreed to marry, Edmund had immediately set to work adding a room onto the cabin. He added to the south facing side and put the only window in the room facing south. He put glass in the window, which was quite a luxury in Broad Bay. Edna already had one south-facing window in her one room cabin, and it also contained glass.

Besides the glass window and looking glass, Edmund brought a small table back from Boston. It was placed near the window. In the spring, Edna placed a box of earth containing cabbage seeds on this table. She had realized that she could grow larger cabbages if she gave them a head start indoors. She watered them with extreme caution, as she didn’t want to harm her lovely table.

On the east side of this room, Edmund had put a door, which opened into the animal shed that he built onto the cabin. This shed contained a door that opened to the east, and a large window with a sliding shutter that opened to the south. Even in the winter, the window could be opened to let in sun and air and was used as a way to toss out the animal manure when the weather was really bad.

The animal shed held Edna’s chickens that had nesting boxes to lay their eggs and a place to roost. Baby-baby lived there too. She was a pregnant heifer, which had been given to Edna by William and Lillian when the heifer was old enough to leave her mother.

Anna loved Baby-baby as a pet. Edna was looking forward to the day when the heifer would drop her calf, and then Baby-baby would become their own milk cow.

Back in the kitchen area, Edna checked on the pot of clams that Edmund and Herbert had dug before they began working on the slide for their boat. Edmund had put the pot over the fire, and when Edna looked into it, she could see that the shells were all open. She swung the pot off of the fire and set it down to cool on the hearth.

She would use the milk that Gladys had given her to add to a clam chowder. The milk was in payment for cloth from Edna’s shop. Cloth was very expensive, so it took many crocks of milk to barter for cloth.

At this time of year, supplies were very low. Edna opened the hatch to the root cellar and went down the steps. The potatoes were all sprouting and would be needed as seed to start their new crop. She picked up four potatoes and found a few onions. The onions that were left were quite shriveled, but Edna thought they were good enough to chop up for flavor in the chowder.

Back in the kitchen, Edna chopped the onions and then cut up a small amount of salt pork, fried it with the onions and then set the fry pan aside.

She carried the pot of clams outside. She did not like shucking clams, although they were readily available here and made for good chowder. She had learned that the shells, when ground to pieces between large rocks, were useful for adding to the mud clay that was prevalent in Broad Bay.

The walls in her and Edmund’s room were covered with this clay and shell mixture and it certainly blocked any draft from coming through.

The kitchen and shop section walls were partly covered with the clay mixture. This was an ongoing project that would be worked on when there weren’t too many other tasks.

Edna sat on the split log bench on the porch and began shucking the somewhat cooled clams and put the meat of the clams back into the broth in which they had been cooked. She would move the shells to the shell heap when they dried out.

Back in the cabin, the onions and salt pork mixture and potatoes were added to the pot of clams. The potato sprouts were returned to the cellar to use for planting later.

When she threw the scraps of onion on the manure pile, Edna made a mental note to remind Herbert that the manure pile needed to be moved away from the house.

She noticed that the tide was coming in, and Herbert and Edmund were standing in the water trying to clean the mud off their hands, legs and feet.

She washed her own hands in the bucket of water that sat on the porch for this purpose. She knew it would be best to do it now before Edmund and Herbert rinsed their hands and feet in it. The water would be quite dirty after that.

With the two kitchen buckets in hand, Edna went to the spring to get water. When she returned, Edmund and Herbert were sitting on the porch drying off.

We would have gotten that for you, Edmund said. Don’t hurt yourself carrying things that are too heavy.

I didn’t fill the buckets all the way up, Edna said. There is a job that you should get to someday soon, however, Herbert. That manure pile needs to be moved away from the buildings.

Can I do it another day? Herbert asked. It will take a long time to move it all.

That will be fine, Edna said. You don’t have to do it all in one day.

Tomorrow is our launching day, Edmund said. The tide will be high early in the afternoon. We will launch her then.

Should we have a name for our sloop? Herbert asked.

Why, of course we should, Edmund said. We should have thought of it sooner.

Maybe we could name it White Elephant like the ship you were on, Papa, Herbert said. We could paint a white elephant on it.

We don’t have any paint, Edmund said, and besides this is our ship and we want our own special name.

What do you think, Edna? Edmund said. It is your boat too.

It doesn’t matter to me what you name it. All I care is that you always get home safe from your travels.

That is it then, Edmund said. We will name her Home Safe or Safe Home. What do you think my first mate?

Herbert said, "Let’s name her Safely Home."

I don’t want to put off launching her now that she is ready, but in the winter when we have to bring her onto the dry land, we will burn the name into her bow. Edmund stood up and as though making a public announcement, he said, "It has been decided to christen this new sloop Safely Home."

Edna smiled at this big announcement.

Herbert looked down at his feet. They were reasonably clean and dried off. Where are the girls? he asked.

They have taken bread to the new settlers, Edna explained.

Do we have to wait for them to get home before we eat? Herbert asked.

No. They may be awhile. We can eat now if you want. I’ve made chowder out of the clams you dug this morning.

They all went inside. Edna added milk to the chowder, and Edmund got the freshly baked bread off of the shelf.

Could you get the butter from the root cellar please, Herbert? Edna said. I left the hatch open for that reason.

Herbert fetched the butter and they all sat down to enjoy their meal of clam chowder and rye bread with butter. Edna left the pot of chowder on the hearth near the fire to save what was left for Constance and Anna.

She put the spoons and bowls in the washing bucket and went outside. She looked to the south. No sign of the girls. To the west, the sun was going down. Edna felt uneasy. Perhaps she should have taken the bread herself.

Edmund and Herbert came out onto the porch. I’ll get Baby-baby, he said. Should I get the chickens in too?

Yes, Edna said. Anna is nowhere in sight. It is best to get them in before dark,

Herbert went off to tend the animals, and Edmund beckoned to Edna to sit down on the bench on the porch, and he sat down next to her. Looks like tomorrow will be a fine day, he said. See how red the sun is as it is setting?

I see that, Edna said, although I wish it wouldn’t set so fast. The girls are not even in sight yet.

You don’t need to worry. Anna isn’t alone, Constance is with her.

Constance is not an adult, Edna responded

She is one of the most adult sixteen year old girls around. If they are over taken by the dark, she would have the good sense to stop at someone’s cabin.

Edna nodded in agreement. Are you off in the boat tomorrow?

No. Tomorrow we will give her a christening and then, if all goes well, we will leave her tied to the dock for a few days to let the wood swell. Herbert and I will take a little cruise on the river before we make our first real trip.

A christening for a boat? You must be teasing me.

No. I’m not teasing. We will officially name her when we send her into the water.

It has been a surprise to me that Herbert is so excited about going on the boat, Edna said. "When we were on the Priscilla, he said he would never get on another ship."

That was different, Edmund said. "That long ocean voyage would discourage anyone. I think it pleases Herbert that this is a project we have done together. It is about time I have done something with the boy. It is hard for me to believe that I stayed at sea so long and left him behind. I hope I can make it up to him now.

We won’t ever go too far out to sea in our little sloop. Boston will most likely be our farthest destination. If there are any storm clouds showing, we can sail into one of the many coves along the coast. You are not to worry. I have thought this out very carefully. Remember, I am an experienced seaman.

I know that, Edna said. It is very difficult for me not to worry about those I care about when I cannot see them.

Herbert came around the corner of the cabin and onto the porch. Aunt Edna, I have all the chickens in but Blue. She will not come for me even when I offer her corn. They all come to Anna much better than they come to me.

Edna got up to go and see about the hen named Blue. Anna had named all of the hens and roosters and knew them all by name. They all seemed to know Anna too and usually came when she called them.

Blue was a distance from the animal shed and seemed to be hiding behind the woodpile. Edna got a handful of cracked corn and called, Chic, chick, chick.

Blue cocked her head to one side; however, she didn’t move from the spot where she was sitting. Edna got right up close to her and dropped some corn. Blue moved to pick up the corn. When she did, Edna could see that she had laid eggs in a pile of hay and leaves that had collected behind the woodpile.

She must want to set on those eggs, Edna called to Herbert. Perhaps they are fertile and she knows it. I would love to have baby chicks to give away, but I am not sure we should leave her out here. Wild animals might be interested in her and her eggs.

Edna went back to the cabin to get a basket. Her good baskets were with Anna and Constance. So she got their clam basket.

She returned to Blue and shooed her off of the nest. After carefully placing the eggs in the basket, she covered them with the nesting material in which they had been laying. She carried the basket to the animal shed and sure enough Blue followed right along.

Edna placed the nesting material and then the eggs in Blue’s nesting box, and Blue jumped right onto the nest. Edna got a handful of corn and let Blue peck it right out of her hand. Good girl, Edna said. You go right ahead and keep those eggs warm and hatch us some chicks.

Herbert shut the door to the shed and walked back to the porch with Edna. They noticed Edmund had gone down to check on his sloop.

Edna looked to the west. The sun had gone down now. Only the afterglow colored the distant sky. She looked to the south. No girls. Edna sat down on the porch bench. She didn’t want to go inside without the girls.

Herbert stood in front of her. We’ll have to tell Anna about Blue setting on those eggs, so she won’t gather them in the morning. Are they coming home tonight?

I certainly hope so, Edna said. It will be hard to sleep if I don’t know where they are.

Herbert did not seem at all concerned. I’m going to go check on the sloop.

Edna got up. Sitting idle only made her more anxious. She went into the cabin and checked on the chowder and gave it a stir. If only she had some wool, she could knit, but the wool was all gone. She would need to get a new supply at Sawyers Dry Goods in Boston.

The child within her moved and Edna instinctively touched her stomach. She would be thirty years old before her child was born. She had never expected to have a child of her own. For so many years she had been knitting things for other people’s babies. Now she wanted to knit for her own and she had no wool. Not only did she want to knit soakers and blankets, she also wanted to sew gowns and all the things she needed to get ready for her baby.

Not just my baby, she thought. It is Edmund’s baby too. Who would have thought that she would have a fine husband like Edmund? She remembered how her brothers had teased her at first about marrying an Englishman. They had only been teasing though, they liked Edmund just fine.

There were footsteps on the porch. Edna looked up as the door opened. Herbert and Edmund came in. Any sign of the girls? she asked.

Didn’t see them coming by way of the shore, Edmund said. There is a rather good path beat down behind the cabins though. Maybe they are coming that way.

Edna sat in the rocker and rocked in earnest as though the rocking may bring the girls home sooner.

Edmund sat in the other chair. "When we launch the Safely Home tomorrow, you can come down near the water and cheer us on. If the girls get home, they can watch, too."

Edna could feel his excitement and assured him. I will certainly be there, although it may make me nervous to watch.

The room was now dark. There was very little light coming in the window. The fire offered the only light. Edmund got up and added logs. We’ll let these burn a bit before banking it for the night. It is a bit chilly out now.

Herbert came and sat on the floor near them. I am thinking of going to bed, although I don’t know if I can sleep.

I know what you mean, Edmund said. It will be hard to sleep when we are so excited about the launching.

Edna looked down at Herbert. He had turned thirteen and was suddenly outgrowing his clothes. When this sloop makes its trip to Boston, Edna said. Some of the cloth I buy will have to be for Herbert. Look at how he is outgrowing his clothes.

He can go barefoot now, Edmund said, but before winter sets in again, he will need shoes. It is not good for him to be putting on shoes that are too small for his feet.

It will be good when Constance’s brother Philip gets here, Herbert said. He will have plenty of business making shoes for all the people in Broad Bay that need them.

That will be two years from now, Edna said. That is what we need though—people like Philip who live right here and are willing to barter for the supplies they need in exchange for making shoes. Hardly anyone has enough coins to go to Boston to buy things like shoes and cloth.

Edna stopped talking. She thought she heard something. Everyone sat still—listening.

There were footsteps on the porch. The door opened and there stood Constance and Anna. Edna put her hand to her heart. You’re home, she sighed.

It was a very long walk, Anna said. My feet can hardly move they are so tired.

We stopped for a little bit at George and Sarah’s, Constance said. Priscilla was really glad to see Anna and wanted her to stay longer, but I could see how dark it was getting, so after a brief rest and a cup of water, we continued on.

Did the new settlers like the bread? Edna asked.

They were very thankful, Constance said. We went to the Kahns first and then took bread to Paul and Hans. Their cabins are really far away.

They teased us, Anna said. "They asked