Nellie the Brave by Veda Boyd Jones

Author:Veda Boyd Jones [ JONES, VEDA BOYD]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-62836-229-9
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2006-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 8

John’s Plan

Early the next morning after the first meal of the day, the wagons lined up, this time in the opposite order from when they started out. The Starr wagon was closer to the end of the long line than the front. As soon as they reached Blythe’s Ferry, progress stopped. As a few wagons were taken across the river, the others waited, some impatiently.

Nellie was one of the more patient ones, for she saw this as the perfect opportunity to help John with his search for eagle feathers. With Etsi’s permission, she and John rode their ponies along the river.

“I don’t think eagles would be around the ferry. Too many people,” Nellie said.

“My edoda said they could be around fast water. Eagles are the best fishermen. They go where the fish are.”

“So we need the pools before rapids?”

“Yes. I wish we knew the river.” He looked both upstream and downstream.

“Well, this has to be the narrow place or the ferry would be somewhere else.”

“True. But how does that help us decide which way to go?”

“I think that way.” Nellie pointed downstream. “I don’t know why, except it could get faster. Or that way.” She pointed upstream. “Maybe in the wider parts there are rocks that make white water.”

“Just like I said, I wish we knew the river,” John said.

“Well, we’ve got to go somewhere quick, or we’ll run out of time. Etsi said we should cross before the sun is straight up.”

“My edoda says it could take all day.”

This arguing is getting us nowhere, Nellie decided. “You want to split up—me go upstream and you go down?”

“No, let’s stay together.” He clucked at his pony and started upstream. “If we don’t find some in a mile or so, we can come back and go the other direction.”

Nellie agreed with the simple plan and directed Midnight to follow John’s pony. They followed an animal path that meandered beside the river. Nellie watched the ground for eagle feathers, but her watchfulness strayed to the tall trees that bordered the river, some with trunks so wide, it would take several men with their hands linked to form a circle around them. The cloudless blue sky held three big birds soaring on the warm air currents. But they were hawks, not eagles. A blue jay chattered on a low branch ahead of them and flew off when they came near.

“Eagles build nests in trees, not always in cliff alcoves,” she said, giving information she had learned last night from Old Rivers.

John looked up as they passed under the heavy branches of a massive oak tree. “I don’t think I could climb a tree like that. Too high.”

“I wouldn’t climb it either,” Nellie said, “but there would likely be eagle feathers beneath a tree with a nest.”

She looked out on the river and saw a tree limb floating by, moving oddly fast, for the smooth surface didn’t hint at the currents in the depths of the water. This wonderful peaceful place was still on Cherokee land.

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