The Rockeaters

By Ken Pennington

Introducing a new novel by Ken Pennington, artist and historian of Lookout Mountain, Georgia. The Rockeaters is an epic account of Jeremiah McCurdy, 1620-1752, describing his search for and the discovery of the legendary Rockeaters. Jeremiah was a Scottish Highlander who immigrated to colonial America in 1633 and was immediately caught up in all the wonderful people and places he encountered as he explored the New World. His friendships with Native American, ex-enslaved Africans, and his Highlander neighbors made history. There are heroes, lifelong friendships, lasting loves, and colorful characters involved throughout his journey.

There is adventure, humor, love, betrayal, and forgiveness. There are wars with battles on land and at sea and exploration of high mountains and deep caves, and finally there are the Rockeaters themselves, a benevolent race of ancient people who had managed to survive from antiquity. Jeremiah is unwittingly chosen for a great quest that involves wonderful gifts, long life, and grave dangers. It is an adventure almost too fantastic to believe and if not for his journals would have been lost and forgotten long ago.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9781639618668

Book preview

Chapter 1

A Scene to Remember

In the year 1633, soon after the Europeans had begun colonizing America, there was little known of a high range of mountains whose faint pale-blue peaks could be seen rising above and beyond the coastal plain by those weary passengers arriving on ships from the Old World. Probably few of the new arrivals gave the mountains a second thought. After weeks of enduring the cramped, musty quarters aboard ships being tossed on ocean waves, most could only think of landing safely on solid ground and breathing in fresh air. These were colonists, immigrants from the Old World, from England, Scotland, Ireland, or the Netherlands, who had been arriving for a dozen years now and had managed to successfully establish a few scattered settlements along the coastal plains. Few dared to venture beyond the safety of these settlements, and none had yet ventured as far west as those mountains.

The Native peoples who inhabited the dense forest of the interior had mostly remained distant and guarded, and only a small number of warriors had yet gained the courage to visit the settlements. Those that came were enticed by the desire to trade their animal pelts for an array of new and fascinating trade items of colorful glass and metal. The Natives had indicated that the new land was endless, with forest and rivers that seemed to go on forever, with mountains beyond mountains. The Natives made crude drawings painted on pieces of leather or drawn into the sand that provided primitive maps of the wilderness, rivers, mountains, and a few of the local settlements of the Native people. Ominously, their descriptions were usually accompanied with tales of hostile tribes of savage warrior nations, ferocious animals, and dismal swamps where the Europeans could easily be lost, killed, and even eaten.

It was known that beyond the mountains were ranges of other higher mountains that separated the newly arrived immigrants from thousands of square miles of an unexplored wilderness. Early descriptions from the French explorers to the north and west told of lakes and rivers that seemed boundless. The vastness of this new continent had been confirmed by many of the captains of ships that had sailed along the rugged coast when searching for new harbors and better fishing waters. They had reported hundreds of miles of rocky coast, fringed by haunting forest and a scattering of small native villages inhabited by poor and destitute people. Unfortunately, a few of the more unscrupulous captains and sailors had seized several of the unsuspecting and naïve Natives, took them prisoners, and sold them into slavery. Later attempts at colonizing those areas were strongly resisted with violence by the remaining hostile and distrustful Natives, many of whom attempted to drive the treacherous colonists back into the sea.

The French had explored farther inland than the English, Dutch, or other Europeans. They had followed the courses of major northern rivers and the larger lakes and were careful to establish favorable relations with the Natives they encountered as they proceeded. The French were cautious to befriend the Indians they encountered and had soon established a lucrative trade with them, trading for the pelts of animals and gaining concessions for land. The French were enemies of the English and encouraged the Indians to resist the English at every opportunity. The French had successfully established trading posts and forts for their protection along the rivers and lakes in the northern reaches of the continent but had shown little interest in visiting the vicinity of the mountains, so the mountains had remained unexplored by any of the Europeans.

Few of the English dared to leave the safety of the coastal villages and towns for fear of the hostile Natives and were preoccupied with the business of establishing successful plantations for its new citizens. The English king had maintained an attitude that exploration beyond the king’s plantations was illegal and had denied issuing new patents for settlements. Later he issued a decree strictly forbidding it.

As the Highlanders from Scotland begin to arrive, many took notice of the lofty mountains that reminded them of their old homes back in the Scotland. Seeds were being planted with some thinking to themselves that those mountains could possibly serve as a place for new homelands for the Highlanders here in America. The Highlanders had long wanted to rid themselves of the shackles of the English king and were eager for the new freedoms that could be found in this new land and especially up in those high meadows and remote coves.

So it was that one of the new settlers arriving on the good ship Seaborne was a young Scots-Irish lad named Jeremiah McCurdy. Jeremiah was born in the year 1620 at Kilchattan Bay, Isle of Bute, Firth of Clyde, Scotland. His mother was from Ballintoy, Antrim, Northern Ireland. He emigrated to America with his parents when he was thirteen years old. His family had come to the new land to take advantage of the many opportunities being reported in glowing letters written back from earlier settlers to family members who remained in the old country. As the ships carrying the new immigrants skirted the rugged coast, the tops of those distant mountains could faintly be seen rising into the clouds and caught Jeremiah’s attention immediately. His previous visions of the new land had been one of low coastal plains with smelly wharfs reeking of seaweed and fish. He had not expected any high mountains reminding him of his beloved highlands back in his native Scotland.

Soon after disembarking from the Seaborne at the wharf of Kings Towne, Jeremiah and his family witnessed in awe a small group of half-naked Natives who were visiting the village to trade with the town’s merchants. Curiously, Jeremiah’s father inquired who these savage-looking people were. A local merchant replied that they were part of the tribe of Metcometa Indians who lived within the forest and were their nearest neighbors. Their leader, a local sachem, headed the group, which included the sachem’s son. As the Metcometa and merchants bartered, the sachem’s son and Jeremiah studied each other carefully. Jeremiah had heard about the savage peoples that inhabited the New World but had not fully expected what he saw on his first encounter.

The weather was cold, and yet the Natives were almost naked, each dressed in a simple breechcloth, barely covering their loins, and tied with a belt of wampum at the waist. Each carried a heavy blanket slung across one shoulder. Their bronze bodies were heavily tattooed and painted in patterns of eccentric designs. Each warrior carried a balled club and a short bow and quiver of arrows. Their heads were shaved closely, except for a scalp lock on the back of the skull, which was painted a deep scarlet. As the two youths studied each other, a slight smile formed on the native youth’s lips that immediately invited a smile from Jeremiah, and an innocent friendship began that would grow and last a lifetime. Jeremiah was intrigued by these strange people who somehow seemed to be less than human and yet carried themselves with a quiet and regal dignity. He watched as they finished their bartering, bid farewell by signing, and turned and walked back toward the deep forest and disappeared.

This new world excited a passion within Jeremiah, and he grew eager to immerse himself into the study of all its wonderful mysteries. He watched the path where the Natives had disappeared for a few moments considering what other revelations the wilderness held. Jeremiah was intrigued with this new land; but here, near the wharfs of Kings Towne, he found the smells of the sea, fish, and seaweed to his disliking, reminding him of the coastal villages of home. He was troubled with the constant calls of the gulls and the strong smell of the tide. It reminded him too much of the ports they had recently sailed from in the Old World. Again his attention turned to the wilderness and those distant mountains. The mountain air should be fresh and sweet like the highlands at home.

Jeremiah’s father had been busy arranging for a cart and ox to haul their few belongings to a small stone cottage they had arranged to lease from Jeremiah’s uncle Hiram. Hiram had immigrated to Kings Towne five years earlier after marrying Jeremiah’s mother’s sister. The cottage was to be the home of the McCurdy family until they could build a more substantial home in the village.

Jeremiah’s father had been a merchant dealing in linen and wool back in Glasgow, working in partnership with family living in Scotland and England. Before leaving Scotland, he had attained adequate wealth and had available a modest sum for his family’s use in this new world. Unfortunately, in 1636 when Jeremiah was sixteen, both of his parents became ill and died unexpectedly during a flu epidemic. Jeremiah was placed in the care of his aunt and uncle whom he loved dearly but would mourn the loss of his parents for the rest of his life.

His father had provided well for Jeremiah but had died intestate, leaving no will. Jeremiah would inherit his father’s estate eventually, but for now, he would have to rely on his uncle Hiram for support. Because of his uncle’s influence within the community of Kings Towne his father’s estate would be settled early and without costly lawyers.

Hiram owned a small mercantile business and had established an early version of a newspaper, the Kings Towne Gazette. He was early declared a freeman, a person who could vote and was a confirmed member of the church. Hiram also served honorably as one of the town’s most respected councilmen.

Hiram offered Jeremiah a job clerking in his store and asked him if he would be interested in helping with gathering any items of interest for publication in the gazette. Jeremiah was soon reporting on marriages, deaths, ship arrivals and departures, and any noteworthy business of the town council. Jeremiah had one special talent however that seemed to develop quickly and add to the interest of the fledgling newspaper, his talent as an artist. He drew images relating to the various stories and advertisements, which quickly became a popular item within the small paper. His talent caught the notice of the town’s citizens, and he began receiving requests for personal portraits from the colony’s leading family members. His proficiency in accurately portraying the town’s citizens soon made his name well known and accepted by members of the community. He was trusted and well liked, and many of the young girls in town were taking notice, often casting affectionate smiles in his direction. With this newfound employment, Jeremiah found he could support himself and relieve his uncle of any needed support.

His uncle Hiram’s influence in the town helped Jeremiah to settle his father’s estate earlier than expected, and now being sixteen years old, he was considered a wealthy young man. By decree, he could not receive his father’s estate until he attained the age of twenty-one and his uncle Hiram was named Jeremiah’s guardian. He promised to protect Jeremiah’s estate and asked for permission to make thoughtful and modest investments for Jeremiah and to advance him any money necessary for his care until reaching the age of maturity.

Jeremiah had attained a fair education early in life. He had gained an understanding of simple mathematics and could read and write well and even understood some Latin. His father had been educated in the college of Edinburgh in Scotland and wisely educated his beloved son Jeremiah in the necessary skills to help him succeed in life.

The old country, Jeremiah’s part of the world had been a small fishing and farming village called Kilchattan on the Isle of Bute. Kilchattan consisted of a few stone cottages lining a single street where its citizens could watch the sun rise over the sparkling waters of the Firth of Clyde. Jeremiah had loved his ancestral home in Scotland, but religious and political persecution were causing many Scots to flee, to seek other less hostile environments. Now he was a new citizen of the American colonies, and his heart swelled with pride. The whole continent seemed available to him, but it was those distant mountains that beckoned his attention, and their exploration would be his ultimate goal.

Jeremiah had always loved nature but never realized the extent that he would become involved. He was fascinated with the variety of flora and fauna that he found in the forest, and as he explored and studied, he became a gifted naturalist. At first, he explored and familiarized himself with the forest immediately surrounding Kings Towne. But each new trip found him penetrating deeper and deeper into its depth. He busied himself making notes and sketching the plants and animals that he found in abundance there. He remembered the people of the forest that his family had witnessed on their arrival in Kings Towne, and he often stood apprehensively watching the shadows and thinking of the Metcometa and wondered if one day he would encounter them there as well and if they would be friend or foe.

The townsfolk repeatedly warned Jeremiah against going into the forest alone. They warned him to be watchful for the wolves, panthers, and bears that were occasionally seen lurking in the shadows at the edges of pastures. Also, they warned him to be watchful for northern Indians, kinsmen of those unfortunate Natives that had earlier been deceived, captured, and sold into slavery by the unscrupulous European sailors. The northern Indians had been encouraged by the French to kill any English they found in the forest, and recently there had been rumors of a massacre of the inhabitants of an English town by the northern Indians. Sadly, in retaliation, many Indians—some completely innocent of crimes against the English—were killed by the unforgiving and vindictive English. Now vengeful groups of northern Indians, southern cousins of the Abenaki called the Mastookara, were reported to have been seen only a few miles north of Kings Towne. Thankfully, this was Metcometa land, and the northern tribes usually avoided encroaching on Metcometa lands, as the Metcometa were known for fiercely defending their hunting grounds.

The inhabitants of Kings Towne and the smaller coastal villages had been put on alert. The town’s small militia mustered and was made ready for any attack. The town was in turmoil as the citizens waited for the expected attack. None came, and within a few weeks, everything returned to normal. Jeremiah halted his excursions into the forest, anxious for a time, but as the threat subsided, he cautiously returned to his devotion to exploring.

Unfortunately, there were other threats. Occasionally a calf or other farm animal would be killed or maimed by a hungry predator, and the town council would offer a bounty to anyone who killed the offending animal and furnished its pelt as proof of the kill. Most of the time, the reward went to members of the Metcometa who were skilled at hunting in the forest and eager to collect any reward for the pelt to trade for items of metal, such as pots, pans, knives, or more often the immensely popular strings of colorful glass trade beads.

Chapter 2

Into the Wilderness

As time passed, Jeremiah became a successful hunter himself. He had inherited his father’s old flintlock musket from his days in the Scottish Highlander Guards. With much practice, he became a skilled marksman. He had learned the importance of keeping his flint sharply knapped and his powder dry. He routinely provided his uncle Hiram’s table with fresh venison and provided meat to many of the town’s poorer families and the orphans home. With each hunting excursion, Jeremiah became more comfortable venturing deeper into the forest.

Jeremiah had joined others in hunts for the predators that had found the colonist’s calves or lambs easy prey, but he had not yet experienced the excitement of going into the forest alone and stalking or killing a truly dangerous predator. His first experience came when hunting alone in the ridges several miles from Kings Towne. He was hunting deer and had noticed a well-worn animal trail that funneled game through a narrow pass in a ridge. It was late in the afternoon, and he decided to camp for the night near the pass and to wait in ambush the following morning for any game that crossed the ridge through that pass. He hurried to set up his shelter and gathered dry wood for his campfire. After setting up his camp, he roasted a fat rabbit over his fire. The aroma of roasted meat soon filled the air and wafted down the slopes and into the nostrils of a fairly large black bear.

Jeremiah had eaten his fill of rabbit and without thinking tossed the remaining carcass down the side of the ridge. He had been told by more experienced hunters to always leave a camp clean of any food scraps and hang your remaining food high up and away from eager scavengers. Since he was eager to scout the area before nightfall, he failed to follow the advice of others. He quickly hung his remaining food in a tree as instructed but failed to estimate the determination or skill of a hungry beast. He gathered his flintlock and pack and began his search for the best hunting blind to use for his hunt the next morning.

He chose a blind overlooking the western slope of the ridge. It was perfect for waylaying any game animals that crossed the ridge from that side. He was comfortable that he had chosen his blind well. It offered a thick cover and could hide his presence from any game passing over the ridge. And then his eyes focused on a large pine tree standing at the edge of his blind. He saw that the bark had been viciously ripped from the trunk and then savagely clawed and bitten into. Matted into the resin that seeped from the scars were the long black hairs of a bear. Within seconds, he realized he was standing in the realm of a large bear that had plainly marked this as his territorial domain. Fear shot through his body. Jeremiah was not about to place his blind here where he may not be the hunter, but possibly the hunted. He quickly made the decision to cross over to the eastern side of the ridge to select a blind overlooking the eastern slope rather than the western one. Running out of time, he found a suitable location, broke a few limbs to help mark its location for the following morning, and hurried back to his camp.

It was late when Jeremiah arrived back in camp. The sun was now setting in the western sky, its rays barely illuminating the slopes of the ridge. As he entered his camp, he was startled to find it had been wrecked and all his bedding scattered. His tent shelter had been flattened and dragged a few feet from where he had set it up. He immediately glanced up to where his food had been stored and found it had been torn down. Then he noticed the large claw marks on the trunk of the tree. He realized, much to his dismay, that the territorial bear had visited his camp while he had been busy choosing a blind for the coming morning’s hunt.

Nervously he looked in all directions to see if the bear was still close by. The eastern slope of the ridge was darkened in the evening shadows, and to make matters worse, the slope itself was covered with a heavy growth of large ferns, making it almost impossible to see any beast lurking there. A heavy canopy of mature hemlocks further blocked out light from a darkening night sky. As Jeremiah strained to make out shapes or movement in the dense cover, a gentle breeze caused the shadows to move ever so slightly to tease the mind. His eyes strained to penetrate the shadows. He managed to locate the path made by the bear as it waddled back down the slope, flattening the ferns as it went. He followed a short distance desperately searching for the beast. The ferns were thick and tall, almost four feet high, and could easily conceal a crouching bear. Jeremiah’s heart was racing as he eased along the path, turning from one side to the other, searching desperately for his unwanted guest. His hands, damp with sweat, gripped his old flintlock tightly as he searched intently ahead for any sign of movement.

Then he noticed movement to his left. Turning quickly, he watched as a large black head slowly rose from the ferns. His heart nearly exploded in his chest, and he could feel the hair stand up on his neck and arms. The excitement was intense, and he readied his gun and waited for the bear to charge.

Jeremiah had never seen a bear in the wild, neither in Europe nor in America. He was so excited that he had forgotten the promised bounty he could collect for killing any predator that preyed on the colony’s livestock. But seeing his first bear in the wilderness thrilled him, and all he could do was watch. The bear stood on its hind feet and was taller than Jeremiah. He stood there a few seconds sniffing the air and then lowered his body, turned, and headed back up the slope toward Jeremiah’s camp. Jeremiah followed, anxious to see where the bear was going and afraid to not keep it in sight.

The bear returned to the tree where he had earlier found an easy meal. Pausing at the base of the tree, he raised his large head and sniffed the air again. He moved his nose through the air several times and, then looking up, climbed the tree but this time found Jeremiah’s larder empty. Apparently disappointed, he hung there for a few moments looking all about and then down at Jeremiah. Then, as he slowly backed down the tree, Jeremiah moved back a distance and readied his flintlock. The bear stood at the base of the tree looking at Jeremiah and then slowly turned and sauntered back down through the ferns and off the ridge.

Jeremiah had been both frightened and fascinated with his first encounter with a bear and nervously watched the slope in anticipation of the bear’s return. Then realizing it was dark and his camp still a mess and needed to be organized again, he hurried to rekindle his fire, mainly for illumination. He would need plenty of light in case the bear decided to return. He hurriedly gathered firewood and collected his scattered gear and busied himself with repairing camp. The sun had now set behind the western ridges, and darkness had engulfed his campsite. He hung his tent shelter by the light of his fire, laid out his bedroll, and placed extra wood near the already roaring fire.

It was said that a wild animal will not approach an open fire. If the bear did return, Jeremiah planned to load the fire heavily to illuminate the darkness and allow him to clearly watch the visitor. As he climbed under his blanket, he double-checked his flint and powder and positioned his old gun safely by his side.

Jeremiah was fitful at first, concerned about the possibility of the bear’s return, but finally the fatigue of a day’s journey caused a deep sleep to overcome him. He slept soundly until sometime after midnight when the sound of twigs snapping and leaves being crushed alerted Jeremiah of the bear’s possible return. He quickly sat up and peered out from his shelter. Standing calmly near the fire was a large doe. She hesitated for a moment and then turned and slowly walked into the shadows. The presence of a lone doe standing calmly near his fire gave Jeremiah assurance that no bear was anywhere nearby.

Guess that old saying about animals and fires is not true, he mused. With fatigue overcoming him again, he was soon sound asleep, and this time, he rested until the warm rays of the morning sun shown on his face. He had chosen to forfeit any bounty for the bear’s pelt. He would leave the bounty hunting to the Metcometa.

By 1639, Jeremiah was nineteen years old, and he was spending less time in Kings Towne, and the town’s elders were now encouraging his excursions into the forest. They considered his explorations beneficial since he was providing maps showing the locations of rivers, open meadows, and the Indians trails that could later be widened into wagon roads leading to newer settlements for additional colonists. Unknown to Jeremiah was that all too soon these new roads would be used as dozens of new settlers, farmers, and lumbermen moved west and inland to establish new plantations.

Ships were arriving monthly loaded with new immigrants, and the wilderness where Jeremiah explored provided much needed lumber for new homes, barns, and other structures. Lumbermen were moving west into the interior and setting up new lumber camps. Not only was timber in demand for the Pilgrim’s new homes but also there was a demand for export back to England, which proved profitable for the colony’s investors.

Chapter 3

Friends for Life

One day while exploring, Jeremiah was resting on a rock beside a creek when he noticed a lone figure move quietly to the stream. Laying prone, a youth, using the cup of his hand, ladled the cool water to his lips and drank. Jeremiah recognized the youth to be the son of the sachem of the Metcometa he had met a few years earlier. He was taller now, more handsome, and his bronze body more muscular; but there was no mistaking—it was him. He watched, and as the youth raised up, he saw Jeremiah watching him from his seat across the creek. He stood motionless for a brief time and, then recognizing Jeremiah, slowly waded across the stream to where Jeremiah sat. He signed greetings, and Jeremiah signed back.

Jeremiah spoke first. Pointing to himself, he said, Jeremiah. I am Jeremiah.

The youth hesitated for a moment, contemplating, and then pointing to himself said, Pa-tsu-lla.

Jeremiah repeated, Patsulla.

The youth pointed to Jeremiah and repeated, Jeremiah.

At first, each had incorrectly pronounced the other’s name, and they laughed and continued saying each other’s names until they could pronounce them correctly. Now at least they knew each other’s names. Then they began to point to different objects and call their names. Before they parted that day, they had learned the names of a few simple things in each other’s language, such as creek, tree, and rock. In time and after many explorations together, the two friends had learned each other’s language and spoke each fluently.

Pa-tsu-lla explained that he lived in the largest of seven towns of the Metcometa. My town is called Tassa-tis-qua and means the End of All. Beyond our land, at the foot of the first mountain, is where our world ends. And the Metcometa have no desire to go where the world no longer exists.

With his new friend of the forest, Jeremiah became more confident, and together, they explored deeper into the land beyond the colonial settlements. Often, when on the tops of the higher ridges, Pa-tsu-lla noticed Jeremiah would hesitate, gazing off to the west, toward the distant mountains.

Pa-tsu-lla asked Jeremiah, What is your fascination with those mountains?

Jeremiah told him, They remind me of my home back in Scotland, where me and my father were born and where my grandfathers were born for many generations before me. I plan to go to those mountains one day and possibly establish my home there.

Pa-tsu-lla then told Jeremiah of the Metcometa’s ancient legends of the hordes of primitive beings that inhabited the hidden coves and the lower reaches of those mountains.

"They are said to be a dangerous tribe of beings known as the Uglaords, a vicious, half-human race of beings that befriend no one and are known as the cannibals of the