The Moonshiners Part One

The boy laid his hand on the mule's nose and looped the halter rope over a branch.  He silently slipped his Winchester rifle from his shoulder and stepped off the trail into the concealment of the brush.  He had heard a sound.  For a full minute he waited, then he heard it again.  It sounded like a woman crying.  Slowly the boy moved forward.  The sound came again.  He pushed silently through the brush and came to a crevice, a small ravine.  He knelt down and peered over the edge.  It was mid day in the July of 1929, The sun directly overhead illuminated the scene.  The boy gave a low whistle of surprise.  Twelve feet below him lay a black girl covered in blood.  She saw the boy and shouted, 'Oh help me please!'

'Be quiet lady', the boy said in hushed tones but the girl was exhausted and panicking, she called again, 'Please don't leave me!'

The boy responded, 'Look lady I've got three mules here laden with thirty five gallons of illegal moonshine whisky so keep quiet.'  He added, 'I ain't going to leave you, I'm a Christian.'

'I'm a Christian too,' the girl gasped hurriedly.

The boy spoke reassuringly, 'O.K, Just keep quiet while I figure something out.'  He walked slowly back to his mules.  If there was somebody stalking him they would know where he was now.  On a still summers day sounds travelled for miles in these Tennessee mountains.  After a moments deliberation he detached his strongest mule from the other two and unloaded the kegs of whisky from it's back.  Then taking the length of rope used to lash the kegs in position, he led the mule to the edge of the ravine and hitched it to a tree.  He secured one end of the rope to the mule's harness, threw the other end over the edge of the ravine and then lowered himself down.  He knelt beside the girl.  She lay on the shale and fern strewn floor of the ravine which was about three metres wide by eight metres long.  The sides of the ravine were sheer.  It would have been impossible for her to climb out unaided.  She was in a bad way he saw.  There was a massive swelling running down the left side of her head which completely closed her eye.  Her lip was split, she had a tooth missing. Her mouth was still bloody.  Her left arm was clearly broken and her left leg badly swollen, probably broken as well the boy assumed.  He lifted the girls head and gave her a drink of water from his canteen, 'Thank you,' she murmured

He said, 'I've got to get you on your feet to haul you out of here.  It's going to hurt like hell but you can't yell out, O.K.?'

The girl nodded.  She was bigger than him and heavier but he managed to help her to her feet.  She gasped with pain as, with her arm round the boy's shoulders, she limped to the wall of the ravine.  The boy tied the rope around her so that it was under her armpits.  'That knots a bowline so it won't tighten up on you,' He explained.  'I'm going to pull you out of here with my mule.  You'll just have to scrabble up as best you can with your good arm and leg.'

The girl nodded again.  The boy climbed out of the ravine and manoeuvred the mule into position, then he led the animal slowly forward.  He heard the girl's muted cries of pain then her head and shoulders appeared.  He ran back and pulled her clear. She lay panting with pain and exhaustion.  The boy offered her the canteen and again she drank.  When she got her breath back she asked, 'Can we rest a while please?'

The boy shook his head, 'We have got to get out of here.  I need you on that mule now.'

The girl groaned, 'I can't do that'

'You've got to,' the boy said,' manoeuvring the mule into position.  'Put your good arm on the mule's neck.  I'm going to throw you up with your good leg. Throw your hurt leg over his back.'  The operation was only partially successful, the girl was painfully stranded, unable to get her injured leg fully over the mules back.  She cried out with pain as the boy ducked under the animal's neck and pulled her into position from the other side.  Then he yoked the mule to the other two, redistributed the kegs of whisky and with everything lashed securely in position, re- commenced his journey.

This was the most dangerous part of the trip.  The mountain trail widened out into a wagon road wide enough for a car.  This was the most likely place to get ambushed and where, he guessed, the girls attackers had driven her before carrying her up the trail and disposing of her.  He hurried the mules along and suddenly struck off the track and into the brush.  The girl had to bow her head as branches slapped her face.  After a while they came onto a trail of sorts and half an hour later they stopped in a grassy clearing with a stream running through it.  'We can rest here,' the boy said, 'then we have another four hours journey to get home.'

'Four hours!'  The girl was distraught.  'I'll never make it.'

'You'll have to,' the boy said.  'Get down.'

'I can't,' the girl wailed.'

The boy led the mule to a large rock.  'Just step off onto that rock, I'll help you.

She dismounted and with her arm round the boys shoulders, she hobbled to the waters edge and lowered herself to the ground.  The boy busied himself watering and hobbling the mules so they could forage for food in the clearing.  His work completed, he produced cold black coffee and biscuits and as they ate they studied each other.  The boy had never been in the company of a black woman.  Living as he did on a Tennessee mountain farm, he had never been further than the local small town of Turners Crossing, and that only two or three times a year.

The girl was soaking the biscuits in her coffee, her mouth was too sore to chew.  She was greatly relieved to have been rescued.  She had been convinced she was going to die but she wondered how safe she was so far from help, in the care of this white boy.  Many tales were told about these wild people who lived up in the southern mountains.  She saw that he was thin.  His overalls hung from his lean frame.  He had red hair and a fresh complexion already scarred by acne. He spoke soberly in a level monotone.  She imagined he rarely smiled and yet she owed this serious, strange young man her life.

 'What's your name?' she asked

'Tommy Hamilton.'

'How old are you?'

'Fourteen.'

'Why are you doing dangerous work like this?'

Tommy shrugged, 'We've got a little mountain farm but we need another income, so, moonshining.  We take corn up and bring whisky back.  My uncle, Jim Hamilton, has a store in town.  He collects it and sells it.  That's how we make some money.'

'Why you,' the girl asked.  'You are too young surely.'

'My Dad is lame, kicked by a mule.  He can't walk very far,' Tommy said.  'My brother Luke used to do it but he got killed last year.'

'I'm sorry, how did he die?' The girl asked.

'We were running down with a load of whisky just as we are now.  Luke heard something.  He told me to run for it but when I heard gunfire I sneaked back.  Luke was on the ground.  I saw a man shoot him dead.  I'll know him again.  They were revenue men.  They said Luke fired first and they said there was only twenty gallons of whisky but they were lying, there was over forty.  They killed Luke for that whisky.'

'How awful,' the girl said.  'Your mother, she must worry about you?'

'Ma died when I was ten,' Tommy replied.

“You must miss her.'

Tommy nodded, 'My Aunt Harriet helps out but she's kind of hard.'  He asked,  'What's your name?'

 'Lotte Barr, I'm eighteen.  I was singing with a band.  I got an offer from some better musicians and when I told my boss I wanted to leave, this is how I ended up.'

'Where are you from?' Tommy asked.

'Near Atlanta.  My Father is a Baptist minister in a little Church down there.'  She went on, 'Tommy I'd sure like to get into that stream and clean myself.  Will you help me?'

'It's colder than it looks,' Tommy replied.

'I would really like to get clean.'

Tommy shrugged, O.K. But don't make no noise.'  He dragged her into the cold knee deep water.

With her good hand Lotte undid the buttons of her dress, pulled the hem of the dress up to her waist, then leant back and completely submerged herself under the water until the cold forced her to sit up.  She saw that Tommy was staring at her, transfixed by her breasts. He blushed red.  'It's alright Tommy,' Lotte said.  'Can you do up my buttons and help me out.'

 

 

With trembling hands Tommy complied.  When he got her out of the water he saw that she was shivering.  He got a blanket from his bedroll to put round her.  Something dropped to the ground.  'What's that?' Lotte asked.

'It's Luke's forty four, I always carry it.'  He picked the gun up and handed it to Lotte saying, 'Be careful it's loaded.' Then he stiffened, he had heard a noise.  The grazing mules threw up their heads questioningly.  Tommy snatched up his rifle, 'Lay still,' he whispered.  Then he waded silently across the stream and took up a position behind a tree.  Whoever was coming would have the sun in their eyes.  For a few minutes nothing happened.  The mules re-commenced grazing.  Then he saw a man holding a pistol enter the clearing.  It was Gagan the man who had killed his brother.  Tommy raised his rifle, then he saw Gagan beckon and another man appeared, coming stealthily around the hind quarters of one of the grazing mules.  'Will you lookee here,' Gagan said in hushed tones, pointing at Lotte.  Their attention momentarily diverted the two men came within a metre of each other.  Tommy fired twice.  Gagan fell to the floor. The second man managed to get a shot away before Tommy's bullet hit him and he too fell.  Lotte screamed.  Tommy came back across the stream and stood over the men. They were both dead.  'That's Gagan,' he told Lotte, 'the man who shot Luke.'  Lotte stared at the dead men in horror. Tommy saw that she was trembling.  He laid down the rifle and knelt down beside her.  At that moment a man charged out of the brush firing a pistol.  A bullet whined past Tommy's head.  He dived to the ground reaching frantically for the rifle.  His back muscles tensed waiting for the shot that had to come.  He heard the shot but nothing happened.  Gradually he eased himself up and turned his head.  Lotte still wrapped in the blanket was holding Luke's gun, her face frozen with terror.  The third assailant lay sprawled on the grass.  Tommy got to his feet, walked over to her and eased the gun from her hand.  Lotte fainted.  He checked the third man was dead then began preparing the mules for departure. When all was ready he drew off some whisky from a keg, added water from the stream and knelt down beside Lotte.  She was conscious now but traumatised.  After all the horror of previous events, she now realised she had killed a man.  'Here, drink this it will strengthen you up,' Tommy said.

Lotte drank but then became animated, fearful.  'Tommy I'm not going to make it.  I just can't.  I'm going to die in these woods.  Please tell my father where I am. He is Andrew Barr the Baptist minister of Ashton Baptist Church.’

'You ain't going to die.' Tommy cut in.

'I am.  Just leave me.’

Tommy put his hand on her shoulder.  'I ain't ever going to leave you Lotte.  You saved my life.  I would be a dead man if you hadn't fired when you did.  Nobody ain't going to hurt you.  I'll get you home, don't you fret none.  It will be hard for you but we'll make it.'

Looking into the eyes of this grave young man, Lotte's panic subsided.

'Ready?'  Tommy asked.  She nodded.

Tommy moved the mules into position by the rock they had used to dismount and managed to load Lotte again onto the mule's back.  It was no easy task..Tommy threw his bedroll over the mule's shoulders to give Lotte something to lean her good arm on and they set off.

The trail was ill defined and the mules had to force themselves through encroaching laurel branches.  It was late afternoon but still hot and after an hour Lotte's dress was soaked in sweat from the mule's back.  The pain from her injuries was exacerbated by the discomfort of being astride the mule. Her legs, groin and back ached.  At times she fell asleep and would have slid from the mules back if Tommy had not roused her and pushed her back into position. For the final hour Tommy walked beside her holding her in position whilst Lotte lapsed in and out of consciousness.  It was evening when they broke out of the woodland, crossed a stream and entered an area of open land.  'There's home,' Tommy said.

Lotte, drowsy, opened her eyes and saw that they were approaching a mountain farmstead.  The house had one room with a stone chimney and a front porch. A smaller room, a kitchen also porched, was built on the back. The roof sagged alarmingly.  A dog started barking and a man came out onto the porch.  'There's Pa,' Tommy said.  As they drew closer, Lotte could see that Ike Hamilton was a lean spare built man of average height and stern expression.  His hair colour and complexion was the same as his sons.  He was in his early fifties Lotte judged.  In front of the house Tommy halted the mules.  The young dog fussed about them.  Tommy’s father stepped down from the porch with difficulty.  He was clearly lame.  He walked up to them and stared at Lotte in amazement.  Lotte sat head bowed.

'A coloured girl!!'

'Yeah,' Tommy replied.

'What in the world have you brought her here for?'

'Fix her up.  She's all beaten up.  I'll get her into the house and then when Aunt Harriet comes tomorrow, she can see to her.'

'She ain't coming into this house,' Ike told his son.  'It ain't fitting.'

Tommy made no reply.  He turned to Lotte, 'Get down he said.'  Slowly and painfully Lotte lowered herself to the ground with Tommy's support.

'She ain't coming in here,' Ike said again.

'Well I can't rightly leave her out here,' Tommy replied hotly.'

'You'll do as I say,' Ike told his son angrily.

'I will hell,' Tommy responded.

'Why you,' Ike moved awkwardly towards his son, his fist raised.

Lotte raised her head.  She said quietly, 'May I just rest on the porch Mister Hamilton,' I will not enter your house.'

For the first time, Ike saw the extent of Lotte's injuries.  He stood back aghast, then came forward to help  get Lotte  onto the porch.  Lotte sank down gratefully onto the swing.  Tommy turned and faced his father.  'She saved my life.  Three men jumped us.  I killed two of them and she killed the other.'

'You've killed three men!!'

Tommy nodded, 'I paid off for Luke.  It was Gagan and his gang.'

.Ike shook his head in disbelief, 'What have you gone and done boy.'