Johnny Neil Smith

Hillcountry Warriors


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‘fore he can sober up, his land’s gone. There’s also been times when a Choctaw’s run up a debt with somebody, and they tell him that if’n he will sell his land, he won’t owe nobody and will stay out of jail. A Choctaw can’t stand bein’ in jail. Lott, I could go on and on, but the fact is that if’n sump’n ain’t done soon, there ain’t going to be a single Choctaw livin’ on Choctaw land. Hell, it’s about like that now. They doin’ everything possible right now to try to get Minsa to sell his to the company. Lott, if’n somebody don’t help them, they ain’t going to be much better off than them pore slaves that you always takin’ up for,” concluded Jake spitting the straw out of his mouth in disgust.

      “What’s this gotta do with yore winnings?” prodded Lott.

      “Well, I guess it’s got a lot to do with it. Me and Minsa got a plan worked out. First, we try to tell the Choctaws how to deal with the white men who’s tryin’ to get their land, and if’n they get in debt, we loan them money where’s they won’t have to sell. That’s where my money’s goin’, Lott. I hope you understand what we’s doin’. I’m tryin’ to save them people’s land.”

      By now the rain had almost stopped and the sun peeked between the rain clouds giving the land a fresh and radiant appearance as its rays streaked across the freshly plowed red soil in the field behind the barn.

      “Jake, what ya doin’ is a noble thing, and if’n that’s what ya want to do with yore racin’ money, that’s yore bus’ness. I just hope you ain’t throwin’ money down a empty stump hole. Lot of folks think the Choctaws just ain’t going to adjust to settlin’ on a piece of land. They don’t know how to work it, and eventually they going to lose it and when they lose it, the only choice they got is the Indian Territory in Oklahoma. But I’m proud of what you doin’, Jake, and I know the good Lord lookin’ down from heaven has got to think highly of ya, too. You ready to hit the fields?”

      “Ready brother, let’s get them pretty for Mamma.”

      Later, Jake told Lott more about the Choctaw Land Company. From what Jake could find out, Frank Olliver and several wealthy men from Decatur and Hickory had formed the company and acquired thousands of acres of Choctaw land and were making tremendous profits.

      What disturbed Lott the most, was when Jake told him that he felt Mister Walker, who owned Walker’s General Store and was a personal friend, was one of the members of the Choctaw Land Company.

      Meanwhile, time seemed to move slowly as the family anticipated the arrival of Mrs. Wilson, but eventually the end of June was at hand. From a letter received on the 15th of June, the family was notified that Mrs. Wilson would arrive on the four o’clock stage from Meridian between July the first through the fifth, depending on the weather and when her ship would arrive in Mobile. Professor Johnson could not make the trip, but sent his regards.

      The family decided that beginning July the first, they would stop work each afternoon at two o’clock, clean up and put on their Sunday best, load up in the wagon and go to the stage stop at Mister Walker’s Store. To be certain they were there when she stepped off the coach, they would follow this schedule each day until she arrived.

      The last day of June was the hottest of the young summer. The women and children were busy cleaning the house and washing down the inner walls and floors, while Homer and James Earl were sweeping the front yard. There was no grass grown in the front yards of the cabins in this section of the country nor did the settlers want any. Lott and Jake were down in the swamp bottom trying to get one of their cows out of a bog when they heard a rider approaching.

      “Lott, that looks like Thomas Walker comin’ down here. He sure is in some kind of hurry. Wonder what’s the rush,” commented Jake, drenched with sweat and glad that the cow was finally freed.

      Walker pulled his horse to a stop and with a grin that could have charmed the Governor stated, “You boys expectin’ company?”

      “Sure we is, Thomas. You know Mamma’s going to be here soon. What you talkin’ about?” asked Lott.

      “Well, a little ole grey haired lady came into my store a few minutes ago when the stage stopped and asked the whereabouts of two Wilson boys.”

      Before Mister Walker could say another word, Lott and Jake started screaming and shouting so loudly it caused Thomas’ horse to rear up and send him tumbling backwards to the ground.

      “Mamma’s here! Jake, let’s get home! We got to get the folks ready and hurry on down there. I’ll race ya to the house!” shouted Lott.

      In seconds, the brothers were on their horses and on the way to the house. Lott told Minsa to harness the horses to the wagon and shouted to the family.

      “Yall get washed up and dressed right now! Mamma got here early and is waitin’ for us. Me and Jake’s going to go down there and get her right now,” exclaimed Lott. “You be ready when we get back.”

      In their haste, Lott and Jake forgot to clean up themselves as they pushed the horse and wagon to its limit. In a short time they turned the corner leading to the front of Walker’s store, almost wheeling the wagon over in the process. As they came to a stop near the front porch of the store, there she was sitting on the bench with her trunk.

      For a few seconds, they just looked at each other. Mrs. Wilson, astonished by the way the wagon had almost turned over, thought these men punishing that poor animal must be some of the local Mississippi frontier ruffians Lott and Jake had written about.

      As for the brothers, they stared at the little lady sitting so erect and neatly dressed and thought, “This woman don’t look like Mamma. Her hair’s so gray, and she’s smaller than I remembered. But those eyes, it’s got to be her.”

      Studying the men thoroughly, Mrs. Johnson recognized the features of what her children used to look and thought, “ These men have got to be my boys.”

      “Well, I had to look at ye for a spell before I knew who you were, but I guess you can pass for my laddies,” Mrs. Johnson said, getting up from the bench. “I thought you might be here on time, young men. Get up here and let me see you.”

      The boys quickly climbed down from the wagon now realizing in their haste, they had not even washed their faces and hands. Dried mud was caked all over their clothes, in their hair and even in their beards, but that didn’t matter. Their mother was waiting.

      They walked slowly up the steps and looked straight into her deep blue eyes. She turned to Lott and gently ran her fingers through his thick graying hair and kissed him on the cheek.

      “Lott, it’s been nineteen years since I last saw you. you’ve grown into quite a handsome and distinguished looking man with all those silver locks. And who is this fine specimen of a gent with ye?” pausing to study Jeremiah more closely. “This can’t be my Jeremiah.”

      She stroked his red coarse beard and reached up to place her hands on his broad shoulders.

      “I can’t believe this is my baby. Jeremiah, you have grown into one giant of a man. I understand you have a beautiful wife and son. I can’t wait to meet them all,” concluded Mrs. Johnson, as she pulled her sons together and tried to embrace them both.

      They laughed and cried as they realized that although many years had separated them and changed their appearance, their hearts were still interwoven.

      The boys then quickly loaded their mother’s chest in the wagon and began the short trip back home trying to tell her all at once of their many years in the wilderness.

      “Laddies, you don’t have to tell me everything right now. We have three weeks together,” Mrs. Johnson said. “I’m anxious to meet my daughters and my grandchildren. You have told me so much about them in your letters. I can’t wait to see them.”

      On the road, they met Mister Walker and he also was as muddy as they were.

      “Well, I see ya finally found them fellows you was lookin’ for. They got in such a hurry, they forgot to help me out of that bog,” laughed Mister Walker, pointing