Hillcountry Warriors. Johnny Neil Smith

and Jake helped their mother down from the wagon and led her up the steps.

      “Homer, you get the chest out of the back, and James Earl you help him tote it in,” Jake said.

      “No, children, you stay right where you are. I want to meet you all first.”

      She approached Hatta first and gently embraced her. “Young lady, you are every bit as beautiful as Jeremiah described. I can’t wait to know you better,” stated Mrs. Johnson. “And you, my dear, are Sarah Alice, and you are a pretty thing, too.”

      Then turning to her sons she said, “You boys have found some mighty fine looking lassies out here. I just hope you treat them as your father treated me, like the Queen herself.”

      Mrs. Johnson went from child to child, giving each a hug and saying a few words to each to let them know how much she looked forward to being the grandmother they had heard so much about and had waited so long to meet.

      Later after an ample supper, the family sat out on the front porch in the light of a full moon until the early hours of the morning, reminiscing about all that had happened in Savannah and in the boys’ new homeland.

      Tree frogs, locusts, and crickets continuously serenaded their newly arrived guest. Down at the spring, several bullfrogs croaked, interrupted occasionally by an owl perched out beyond the barn.

      The children had tired themselves out in play and were curled up in the hall on quilt pallets that Sarah and Hatta laid out. It was a treat for them to be able to stay up so late.

      About three o’clock, the adults felt it was time to retire, especially since Mrs. Johnson was probably exhausted.

      “Laddies, there’s one thing I am having a problem with. What has happened to the Queen’s language? You know, I can hardly understand you sometimes. And boys, do all the women around here really use snuff?” joked Mrs. Johnson.

      “Mamma, people don’t talk that way out here. We ain’t heard grammar like yores spoken in a long time. The children learn it right in school, but it ain’t spoken out here and for the snuff, you going to have to try it ‘fore you leave, “ laughed Lott.

      That night Lott and Jake felt their home was complete with their wives beside them in bed, the children tucked in their rooms and their mother finally home with them.

      The days that followed were some of the happiest the Wilsons had ever experienced. They took long walks through the woodlands, introduced their mother to neighbors who had come to meet her, went swimming and picnicking at the creek and stayed up late talking on the front porch.

      The highlight of the visit was the Fourth of July community picnic and races. Lott and Jake invited the entire community to meet at the race track for a day of fun, fellowship, and country racing.

      The morning of the fourth dawned clear and warm. Mrs. Wilson was already up at daybreak and after quietly making a cup of coffee, she wandered out into the front yard admiring the natural beauty of the homestead. Somewhere deep in the woods, she could hear Jake’s hounds giving chase to some critter, but suddenly noticing movement at the barn, she was startled to see a strange man approaching leading a mean-looking dog.

      Noticing that she seemed frightened, he quickly introduced himself.

      “My name is Minsa and you, Mamma Wilson. We wait long time for you to come,” he said in a quiet and polite manner. “I come to see you and ask Jake if I ride in race today.”

      “It is nice to meet you Minsa. I’ve heard many good things about you,” replied Mrs. Wilson, leaning down to stroke the dog that was now sitting on the ground beside Minsa. But the dog growled and lunged toward her only to be pulled back by the leash.