The Swamp Colony

          In parts of North Carolina and Virginia prior to the Civil War, some blacks, both runaway slaves and free, had retired deep into the impenetrable swamps and forests far from the cities and towns and created their own small societies. Within these patchwork societies they built their own huts, raised families, hunted, and were able to live by their own rules. Harriet had heard of such colonies existing, but she hadn’t known of any in this part of Delaware. While walking, she prayed that this man wouldn’t derail them off their journey north.

           The stranger’s name was Boyd. He was fifty years old with a wiry physique and a personality that overflowed with charisma. He led his new group of prisoners deeper into the woods for quite a distance to a small area where the trees had been chopped down and three small cabins had been built. 

Image from Current Events

          There were torches burning around the site, and an assortment of men, women, and children were walking out from the cabins towards the visitors as they approached. The men wore layers of old tattered clothing and makeshift shirts made from bandannas and unbleached brown linen. Most of the women they saw wore dresses made out of a rough material that reminded Kyla of potato sacks. A couple of the women had blue and white dresses made from better linen, but even that material looked old and worn out. 

Image from Black Loyalist

          Kyla noticed a tilled garden area on the other side of the cabins. All of the vegetables had been harvested for the winter, but several rows of cut corn stalks and drooping tomato vines could still be seen lying dormant for the winter. A few chickens and some mangy dogs were roaming around the campsite. Zammie could count the ribs on one of the dogs that walked up to him. He felt bad for it. It must have been hungry. The dog sniffed Zammie’s feet, looked up at him with shiny black eyes then walked away.
           Boyd led them to a fallen tree that was behind the cabins and had them sit down on the trunk. There was a small bonfire burning in front of the tree bench, and everyone in Harriet’s group appreciated the warmth. Two wooden poles had been stuck in the ground about six feet apart from each other. A leather strap connected the two poles and hung tight in the air, and a series of fresh animal skins had been hung over the strap to dry out near the fire.
           “Fresh meat,” Henry said to himself when he saw the skins. “Bad luck.”

-- Entering the Escaped Slave Colony 

from Time Trip #2 (Chapter 26)

 

Image from University of New Hampshire 

 "Slave Hunt, Dismal Swamp" (1862) by Thomas Moran

Time Trip Adventure 1 

The Journey to Ancient Greece 

PDF available FREE here!  

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A RIDE ON THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD

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Ben Sings a Song

     “We all heard Kyla sing, but what about you, Ben?” asked Henry. “We hadn’t heard you sing in some time now.”           
     “Yeah, Ben,” said Jane. “Why don’t you sing Crazy Jane for ‘em?”           
     “You mean that silly song about you?” said Ben. He had a wide grin on his face.
     “Yeah, Ben, sing!” said Kyla.           
     “I have an ol’ banjo over here,” said Claudia.           
     Everyone began clapping as Claudia handed the banjo to Ben.           
     “Alright, let’s see if I can remember this thing.”           
     Ben strummed a few chords on the banjo to get a feel for it. It sounded a bit tinny, but it would do.
      “This is an ol’ love song written some time ago,” said Ben. “I think it kindly describes the way I felt the first time I saw Miss Jane here.” 
     He began strumming a cheery little melody that reminded Zammie of music that might be played on a children’s TV show.   
      
          “Why fair maiden in ev'ry feature,                         
                         are such signs of fear expres'd?
             can a wandrin’ wretched creature
                         as me with such terror fill thy breast?
             Do my ugly looks alarm ya?
                         am I temptin’ you in vain?
             Not for kingdoms would I harm ya,
                         alarm not then poor crazy Jane.
             Poor crazy Jane, poor crazy Jane,
                         Not for kingdoms would I harm ya.”

     When he was finished the group erupted in applause and laughter. Jane wrapped her arms around him and gave him a big kiss. Ben was a talented musician, and he was hopeful of being able to spend more of his leisure time performing now that the endless hours of working for some other man’s whim appeared to finally be at an end.

-- Ben sings a song

from Time Trip #2 (Chapter 26)

Image from US Slave 

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KILLING FOR COUNTRY  

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THE JOURNEY TO ANCIENT GREECE 

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TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 2

A RIDE ON THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD

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WITNESS TO THE FIRST THANKSGIVING 

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Food from Time Trip #1, Part 4

Fried Tilapia and Lumpia

     “How long was I asleep?” he asked his mother.
     “I don’t know. A couple hours at least.”
     Zammie couldn’t believe it. “A couple hours? Where’s Kyla?”
     “She’s at the table eating already. She took a nap too, but she woke up a few minutes ago.”
     Zammie took another moment to shake out the cobwebs before going to the kitchen. He walked in to see his dad, Kyla, and Kyla’s parents all gathered around the kitchen table. A banquet of fried tilapia, lumpia rolls, rice, and fresh vegetables sat on the table. Kyla had just about cleaned all the meat off of a full tilapia fish leaving nothing but the bones.
     “Look who finally woke up,” said Zammie’s father.
     “Hello, Zammie. How are you?” asked Kyla’s parents.
     “Hello, Uncle. Hello, Auntie. I’m fine.”
     “Come eat then,” said his father, “before Kyla eats up everything.”

-- An aftertrip meal (Chapter 15)

Lumpia and Fried Tilapia are both common items to be found on Filipino dinner tables. Lumpia are basically eggrolls with a thinner wrapping and filled with shredded cabbage, carrots, and pork among other things. Tilapia is a very popular fish in the Philippines and it has a light, flaky texture with a good flavor that appeals to most palettes.

Lumpia (All Recipes)

Fried Tilapia (Kitchen - The Heart of Our Home)

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 4

KILLING FOR COUNTRY  

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THE JOURNEY TO ANCIENT GREECE 

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A RIDE ON THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD

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WITNESS TO THE FIRST THANKSGIVING 

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A Marriage Arranged

     Kisandra was busy laboring with the distaff and spindle when her weaving routine was interrupted by the arrival of Kaiaphas’ eldest daughter, Rhachel.
     “Kisandra, I have wonderful news for you!” said Rhachel. She was eighteen years old and had golden blonde hair that fell gently all the way down her back.
     “What news?” asked Kisandra. Her heart leapt in her throat. Was her father here to pick her up? Would Rhachel’s father allow her to leave?
     “You have been chosen! Oh, this is so exciting!” Rhachel continued to gush and prance around Kisandra.
     “Chosen for what?” Why wouldn’t she just say it?, thought Kisandra. The anticipation was driving her crazy.
     Rhachel took a deep breath and stepped close to Kisandra. “You have been chosen… to be Markos’ bride!”
     Kisandra’s head spun for a moment. Markos’ bride? Markos was the youngest son of Kaiaphas. He had met Kisandra on the day she arrived and had instantly been smitten by her. This obviously was not the news Kisandra had been hoping for.
     “Now the wedding won’t be anytime soon because you are still too young,” Rhachel continued, “but after a couple years my father thinks you’ll be ready to become a wonderful wife for Markos. And bare him many sons.”
     “A couple of years?” Kisandra asked. “Many sons?”
     They were already planning on keeping her here for years?
     “It will be so nice to have you as a sister, Kisandra. Aren’t you excited?”
     Kisandra felt the warmth of tears beginning to swell in her eyes.
     “I can’t marry, Markos,” said Kisandra. “I barely know him.”
     “Oh, you’ll get to know him,” said Rhachel. “You two will get along fine. And then you and I will be like best friends. And we will be able to raise our children together. You are so lucky to have been chosen, Kisandra. Once you are married you will no longer have to be a slave. Isn’t that wonderful?”
     “I…excuse me.” Kisandra ran past Rhachel out of the workshop and out to the nearby well where she splashed cold water on her face. This was not good news. This wasn’t how things were supposed to work out for her.

-- Kisandra's arranged marriage 

from Time Trip #1 (Chapter 11)

The significance of the veil in ancient times 

from Matahari Unveiled

Image representing a marriage in ancient Greece.

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KILLING FOR COUNTRY  

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THE JOURNEY TO ANCIENT GREECE 

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A RIDE ON THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD

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WITNESS TO THE FIRST THANKSGIVING 

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Blackbird Singing

     Zammie was slouched down on the padded bench in his school’s auditorium.  The twelve-year-old sat between his mother and a few of his teenage cousins while listening to a series of his fellow classmates performing songs and musical pieces at the seasonal Rosemont Middle School Recital Night. He was entertained by the novelty of seeing his peers performing before a full audience, but some of the music choices weren’t exactly to his liking. The violin and piano solos in particular just about put him to sleep. He had left the copy of Naruto that he was reading out in the car, and he wished he had it during certain parts of the show. 
     He quickly sat up, however, when his eleven-year-old cousin Kyla was introduced to the stage. She stepped into the spotlight in a navy blue dress with her long jet black hair styled up in an elegant sweep to the left side of her face. She was only four-and-a-half feet tall, but wearing the dress and the platform shoes she borrowed from one of her cousins made her feel like she was a giant.           
     “Yeah Kyla!” All of Kyla’s cousins yelled and cheered wildly for her as she approached the microphone. Mr. Werthers, the music teacher, plucked a familiar melody on an acoustic guitar while Kyla sweetly sang an old ballad.

-- Kyla sings "Blackbird" 

from Time Trip #2 (Kindle Locations 90-100). 

"Blackbird" performed by Paul McCartney

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KILLING FOR COUNTRY  

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THE JOURNEY TO ANCIENT GREECE 

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A RIDE ON THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD

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WITNESS TO THE FIRST THANKSGIVING 

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Alexander the Great in India

Alexander the Great (356-323 BC)

After conquering the Achaemenid Empire of Persia, the Macedonian king (and now high king of the Persian Empire) Alexander the Great launched a campaign in north-western India. The rationale for this campaign is usually said to be Alexander's desire to conquer the entire known world, which the Greeks thought ended in north-western India.

"Phalanx attacking the centre
in the battle of the Hydaspes"
by Andre Castaigne (1898-1899)

Alexander crossed the Indus and fought and won an epic battle against King Porus, who ruled a region in the Punjab, in the Battle of the Hydaspes in 326 BC. Alexander was impressed by Porus's bravery, and made him an ally. He appointed Porus as satrap, and added to Porus' territory land that he did not previously own. Choosing a local helped him control these lands so distant from Greece. Alexander founded two cities on opposite sides of the Hydaspes river, naming one Bucephala, in honor of his horse, who died around this time. The other was Nicaea (Victory) located at the site of modern day Mong, Punjab.


In 321 BC, two years after Alexander's death, Chandragupta Maurya of Magadha, founded the Maurya Empire in India and took many Greeks and Greek satraps as slaves after defeating them in a rough battle.

Image from Revolution Magik

Time Trip Adventure 1 

The Journey to Ancient Greece 

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A RIDE ON THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD

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The Journey to Ancient Greece - Chapter 1

The following excerpt is the complete text of Chapter 1 from Time Trip Adventure 1: The Journey to Ancient Greece. Additional chapters will be posted in their entirety in the days to follow.



      Mrs. Crabapple, the 7th Grade History teacher, placed the report face down on Zammie’s desk. He had been waiting all week to see his grade on this history assignment. His palms were sweating and his mouth was dry.
     Zammie was a bundle of nerves as he slowly flipped the report over to see the big red letter on the front.
       “A. Good work!” it read.
       “Yes!” Zammie said, pumping his fist in the air.
       After school Zammie couldn’t wait to get home and tell his mom about his report, but first he had to brag to his cousin, Kyla. Kyla, at eleven years old, was a year younger than Zammie and was always having to hear about his self-described “amazing” school accomplishments. The two cousins walked the couple blocks home from school every day talking about all the important topics generated by life at Rosemont Middle School.
       “Did you get the highest grade in your class?” Kyla asked him.
       “No. Julie Peris got a perfect score.”
       “Really? I like Julie, she’s nice.”
       “Yeah,” answered Zammie, “but I got the highest grade among the boys and that’s all that matters.”
       “What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Kyla.
      “It means . . . you know, she’s a girl so it really doesn’t count.”
      “Doesn’t count?” Kyla had heard Zammie say such things about girls before.
      “You know what I mean.”
      “No, I don’t. What do you mean, Zammie?”
      “I mean girls are good at remembering answers and writing ‘em on a test, but they don’t really understand what they’re writing.”
      “What?!”
      “They don’t have good original thinking skills.”
      “That’s so wrong, Zammie! Are you saying girls can’t come up with their own good ideas?”
      “Nevermind.”
      “What about me?”
      “What about you?”
      “Do you think I’m just a girl, too, who can’t have good ideas?”
      “No, Kyla, I didn’t say that. Just . . . I don’t wanna argue about it.”

      Zammie and Kyla were cousins but they were also very good friends (even with their occasional arguments). Neither of them could remember a time before they knew each other. Kyla’s mother and Zammie’s mother were sisters, and they lived close to each other in their suburban Southern California neighborhood. The two cousins had always been a part of each other’s life, and although they didn’t always agree on certain things they remained close.

      The two children walked into Zammie’s house on Primwood Lane. Zammie’s mother was cooking up a large pot of chicken soup with thick miki noodles. Both of Zammie’s parents had immigrated to the U.S. from the Philippines and although they had been living in California for nearly twenty years they still cooked up a lot of the same food that they had grown up with in their native country.
      “Hi, mom, I got an A on my history paper!”
      “Oh, congratulations!” said Zammie’s mother. “Hello, Kyla. Are you two hungry? I made miki.”
      “Auntie, Zammie’s saying bad things about girls again.”
      A sheepish grin covered Zammie’s face when his mother looked over at him. Zammie and Kyla sat down at the kitchen table and dropped their colorful backpacks on the floor next their chairs.
      “Zammie, is that true?” his mother asked him as she sat a bowl of steaming miki noodle soup before each child.
      “No, not that bad,” Zammie replied.
      “You said Julie Peris’ high score didn’t count because she just memorizes answers. And that she doesn’t really understand what she’s writing.”
      “It was a fluke,” said Zammie.
      “And then he said I couldn’t have any good ideas either, Auntie.”
      “What? I did not,” said Zammie.
      “I’ve warned you about talking like that, Zamuel,” said his mother. “One of these days you're going to say the wrong thing in front of the wrong girl and then you’ll be in trouble.”
      “No way,” said Zammie.
      “Girls are just as smart as boys, Zammie!” said Kyla.
      Zammie just smiled at his cousin while slurping up a long miki noodle then began laughing.
      “You’re crazy,” said Kyla. “Auntie, remember when you were deciding on how to decorate the TV room?”
      “Yes,” said Zammie’s mother.
      “And I tried to give you some suggestions, but Zammie told me my ideas were useless,” continued Kyla.
      “Don’t be such a baby,” said Zammie.

      “I’m not a baby!” said Kyla. She really hated it when he called her that word.
      “Both of you need to relax. No yelling, please,” said Zammie’s mother.
      “Sometimes my ideas are as good as yours, Zammie,” said Kyla in a lowered voice.
      “Then I guess ‘sometime’ hasn’t happened yet,” said Zammie. His dry sense of humor was in fine form.
      Kyla was about to respond when there was a knock at the front door which was still open.
      “Hello?” An old East Indian man with snow white hair poked his head inside. “Anyone home?”
      “Hello, Ramesh! How are you doing?” asked Zammie’s mother.
      “Good, good. I brought you some more guava from our tree.”
      “Oh, that’s so nice,” said Zammie’s mother.
      Ramesh handed her a plastic grocery bag filled with light green guava fruits. “Mmmm. They smell good,” she said.
      “They’re very tasty now. You’ll love ‘ em.” Ramesh noticed the children eating their soup. “Did I interrupt dinner time?”
      “No, they’re just having a snack.”
      Ramesh smiled at the children. “Hello, Kyla. Hello, Zammie.”
      Both children replied in unison, “Hello, Mister G.” Ramesh told them simply to refer to him as “Mister G” since his last name of Gajmudaridan had been tricky for them to pronounce when they were toddlers.
      “Zammie is celebrating an A he received on a big history report today,” Zammie’s mother said.
      “Ahh, a history student! That’s wonderful. What part of history was the report on, Zammie?”
      Zammie wiped the rich broth from his mouth with a paper towel before answering. “Ancient Greeks.”
      “The Greeks? That’s great. Did you cover the part where they tried to invade India?”
      “No, sir” said Zammie.
      “Oh. Well, don’t worry, you will. I’m glad you’re doing well in school. History can be a fascinating subject.”

"The Last Great Battle" by Tom Lovell 

      “Most of my friends think it’s boring,” said Zammie. “They’d rather watch movies and read manga.”
      “You read manga, too, Zammie,” said Kyla.
      “Only the good ones,” said Zammie.
      “And you don’t think history’s boring?” asked Ramesh.
      “No. It’s like stories to me. I like stories. Especially when they’re true.”
      “That’s good. Unfortunately there are plenty of adults who think history is boring too,” Ramesh said with a chuckle. “They’d also rather watch movies. You know what? I have something at my house that I think you might like, Zammie. I’ll be right back.”
      Ramesh quickly walked out the door leaving Zammie, Kyla, and Zammie’s mother all a little confused.
      “He’s a very interesting old man,” said Zammie’s mother.
      “What’s he going to bring you?” asked Kyla.
      “Maybe a sword,” said Zammie.
      “No, Zammie, no swords,” answered his mother. She began pulling guavas out of the plastic bag and putting them into the fruit drawer of the fridge when Ramesh came back into the house. He walked over to where the children were eating and placed a metal figurine of an ancient soldier with six arms on the table. The figure stood about a foot tall, and the arms were jointed and bendable. Two of the arms were holding an elaborate bow and arrow.
      “Wow!” said Zammie.
      “What is that, Ramesh?” asked Zammie’s mother.
      “It’s an old Arjuna doll,” answered Ramesh. “Arjuna was a great warrior, a wise student, and he had an amazing gift for concentration.”
      “What’s that mean?” asked Kyla.
      “It means he was good at paying attention,” said Zammie.
      “That’s right,” said Ramesh. “Figures like this were thought to help the children of India with their studies or their training, but that was a long time ago. I’m not sure if anyone really believes in Arjuna anymore. But this doll also has historical importance so I thought Zammie might like it.”
      “Why’s he got so many arms?” asked Kyla.
      “A lot of the old Hindu heroes have many arms,” replied Ramesh. “It’s one of the ways they are different from normal humans.”
      Zammie noticed that the arms were moveable and were connected to a series of small gears that could be seen on the inside of the figure. “How does it work?” he asked.
      Ramesh pressed all six of Arjuna’s arms down to its side then twisted the figure at its waist. When he let go, the gears began to turn causing the arms to move around like tentacles.
      “Cool!” said Zammie. “You’re giving this to me?”
      “Sure. It’s supposed to help children learn about history,” said Ramesh. “It helped me do well in school when I was a boy. Maybe it will help you too.”
      “How does he help?” asked Zammie.
      “You just wind it up and let it run right before you do your homework, and then let Arjuna work his magic.”
      “Magic?” asked Kyla.
      Ramesh gave a small laugh, “Yes, magic. But you have to really concentrate when he’s moving. Look deep into his eyes, and when he’s done waving his arms you’ll be able to write even more wonderful papers about history.”
      “Thanks!” said Zammie. “Can I go try it out now?”
      “Of course, but be sure and share with Kyla too,” said Ramesh. “Maybe it will help her with her schoolwork as well.”
      “Let’s go, Kyla!” Zammie grabbed the little Arjuna and took off to his room. Kyla followed close behind.
      “You wanna do homework now, Zammie?” complained Kyla.
      The two children ran into Zammie’s bedroom and closed the door. Zammie put the figure on a desk and both kids stared intently at it.
      “I don’t want to do homework now,” said Zammie, “but I want to see if it makes me feel smarter.”
      “Oh. Well start it up again,” said Kyla.
      Zammie pressed the silver arms of Arjuna down just as he saw Ramesh do. But nothing happened.
      “What’s wrong with it?” asked Zammie.
      “Do this.” Kyla twisted Arjuna a half turn at the waist and suddenly the gears begin to whir and the arms begin to wave.
      The two children watched the statue making its moves for a few seconds.
      “Do you feel smarter?” asked Kyla.
      “Shhh. Concentrate,” replied Zammie.
      The two cousins watched Arjuna closely until the little statue stopped moving. The room grew quiet.
      “That’s it?” asked Kyla.
      “I guess,” said Zammie. “Do you feel smarter?”
      Kyla doesn’t answer.
      Zammie looked at her. “Kyla?”
      “…Zammie…” she whispered, “….look at its eyes.”
      Zammie looked at the tiny almond shaped eyes of the statue and noticed that they were glowing bright red.
      Suddenly the room began to spin causing both children to lose their balance and fall to the floor.
      “What’s happening, Zammie?” asked Kyla.
      “I don’t know,” answered Zammie, “but I feel dizzy.”
      A bright white light blinded both Zammie and Kyla to the point where they couldn’t see anything.

     
    Then everything went black.

To be continued in Chapter 2 . . . 

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 4

KILLING FOR COUNTRY  

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TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 1

THE JOURNEY TO ANCIENT GREECE 

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TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 2

A RIDE ON THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD

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TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 3

WITNESS TO THE FIRST THANKSGIVING 

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Ancient Athens

"Akropolis" (1846) by Leo von Klenze

Image of modern day Athens from Euroko

Time Trip Adventure 1 
The Journey to Ancient Greece 
PDF available FREE here!  

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 2

A RIDE ON THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD

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Searching for Sanctuary

After a couple more hours of walking they found a small log cabin built in a clearing next to a rapid flowing creek. Harriet stopped her group amongst the trees before getting too close to the cabin.           
“Now you wait here,” said Harriet. “I know these folks, an’ I’ll see if they’ll have any provisions they can spare.”          
Harriet walked towards to the dark cabin. The loud, rushing creek was ringing in her ears. On her first trip north she had stopped at this cabin and had been looked after for two nights by an elderly Methodist couple who took pride in helping runaway slaves. She was hoping they would be able to spare some food or clothing for her group since they were growing hungrier and colder by the hour.            
Harriet reached the front door and gave four sharp knocks. The couple had told her that their home was open to fugitive slaves any time, day or night, so she should never feel hesitant to knock. They would normally leave a lantern burning in the window as a signal to runaways, but there was no lantern burning tonight. She waited for several seconds, and when she was about to knock again she did see a lantern being turned on inside the front room. A moment later a head poked out the front window.           
“Who is it?” said a younger man’s voice. “Who goes there?” He was a white man with black hair and a thick black beard.           
Harriet took a step back. “Excuse me, sir, but is Mister or Misses Leaverton here?” 
“Leaverton?” asked the man. He was still a bit groggy from being awoken at three in the morning. “No, they don’t live here no more.” 
“Oh. Well . . . do you happen to know where they moved to?” 
“No, I don’t. They were arrested an’ fined for helping runaway slaves. Who knows what happen’ to ‘em?” 
Harriet felt her heart sink. Arrested?           
“Who are you anyway?” asked the man. “What you doin’ out here so late by yourself?”            
Harriet was too scared to answer.           
“Hold on a minute. I’m comin’ out there.” The man’s head went back inside the window. A few seconds later the front door opened and he stepped out into the darkness barefoot wearing a wool shirt and a pair of pants, but Harriet was gone.
“Hey! Where’d you go?” 
He received no answer.   
Harriet had to push her group again to keep moving north.

-- Harriet searches for sanctuary

from Time Trip #2 (Kindle Locations 2570-2551)

 

"Underground Railroad" from Les Floyd 

Time Trip Adventure 1 
The Journey to Ancient Greece 
PDF available FREE here!  

TIME TRIP ADVENTURE 2

A RIDE ON THE UNDERGROUND RAILROAD

Available at Amazon.com!