The Pirate Affair
Chapter Ten
Copyright 1997
by AUTHOR22@aol.com

The trip south was full of concern.

Were they the only ones to survive the wreck of the Bloody Cutlass?

Should they make off with the stashed booty? 

The cook and his young mate cautiously hiked along the seashore, 
constantly alert for any other human being. 

If they should encounter others from the ship, then they would need to 
divide the treasure.  Also, there were the Indians that Captain Frank 
had mentioned who might be friendly if they could pay. The last 
category was their greatest concern: Might the King's men find and 
hang them?

---------------

Anne Bonney didn't give much thought to any encounter. She had rested, 
and intended to head north and maybe west.  

The first thing she needed was a change of clothing, and next would be 
a good horse; with those things she could start a new life; maybe join 
a horse regiment. Having narrowly escaped the hangman's noose she must  
give up the sea. If anyone was looking for her, it would be as a 
woman, or as a seaman.

---------------

Doctor Radliffe had searched the ship looking for his charge. She was 
not onboard. The common conjecture was that Anne had jumped overboard 
to escape capture by the pirates. Privately, he realized one truth 
about the woman; she was a survivor. It would take more than a bit of 
ocean and a few pirates to bring about her end.

During the voyage, he had begun to realize that Anne could not settle 
down as the wife of a doctor.  Her taste for risk made a lesser life 
impossible. He suspected the truth, she had escaped him, not the 
pirates.

However, the good doctor's tribulations were not the major topic of 
gossip. The Captain and First Mate had become quite concerned about 
the two female passengers. When he had agreed to transport them to 
France the itinerary should have put them at their destination months 
ago.

Both girls were teens, and could not be expected to supervise one 
another. On more than one occasion he had heard snippets of 
conversation from his crew that gave foundation to a growing suspicion 
that the girls were "entertaining" in the privacy of their cabins.

This extended voyage, multiple pirate attacks, and delays in Tortuga 
and Jamaica, had made it impossible to fulfill his obligation. The 
girls should be returned to their parents in New Orleans at the 
earliest opportunity. 

Scott and Jerry were still onboard the Seagull, following the Swan 
Louie north to the Carolinas.

After the wrecking of the Bloody Cutlass the two ships sailed on to 
the small seaport of Saint Augustine.

The Captains rowed ashore to report the destruction of the pirate 
vessel. After leaving the fort, they stopped at a waterfront inn for a 
pint. It was then their concerns developed into a plan.

After asking the bar keep about possible ships destined for New 
Orleans, he realized the only responsible thing to do was to send them 
back by land.

They returned to the fort and sought the council of its commanding 
officer, and learned that there was a well trodden trail that led due 
west across country. It appeared to be a relatively safe route. While 
the Indians were not at war with the whites, neither were they 
friendly. There existed an uneasy live and let live attitude. 

The pressing thorn in the Major's side, when it came to the 
Seminoles, was their willingness to give safe harbor to those outside 
the law; in particular run-a-way slaves.

In the three years that the officer had been in Saint Augustine there 
had been no reports of Indian attacks on travelers.

However, the trail was little more than a path, and certainly was not 
suitable for wagon travel. Travelers must ride horseback, and camp 
along the trail. The trip could take as little as a week, or as much 
as ten days.

-------------

As the cook, Jacques, and his boy, Arcadia, made their way south they 
did not go unobserved. Out of sight, hidden among the shrubs and trees 
were a small band of Indians who had been attracted by the sounds of a 
ship crashing upon the rocky point.

An idea had begun to form in Jacques mind. If they could keep all of 
the treasure and make their way to New Orleans they could use the 
money to open their own inn.  He had heard that the French seaport was 
expanding rapidly. His boy had taken to cooking with a talent that had 
surprised him.

------------

The shoreline in the vicinity of the wreck site was flat, but not 
barren. The growth was mostly shrubs that had grown to the height of 
small trees.  There was an occasional grove of palms. The area was 
devoid of the thick, mountainous growth that was indigenous of 
Tortuga.

Ann Bonney moved inland and into the undergrowth like a wild animal. 
Out of sight, out of danger.

She crouched, looking first west, then north. There was no one along 
the open beach front. 

A noise behind her startled her. It was a light, fast moving sound in 
the bushes. It must have been some small animal.

She possessed no weapon. That would not do. She began to search for 
something that might substitute, and settled upon a knotted branch 
three feet in length and weighing about ten pounds.

She swung it left and right, getting the feel of it, and then attacked 
a small tree devastating it.

The blood coursing through her veins brought back life and energy. She 
was on her own. She was again in charge of her own destiny.

The attack on the small tree had not been a wise thing to do. The 
noise blanketed the deployment of the six Indians that now crouched, 
hidden from her view, awaiting the signal to take her.

She heard the shrill sound of a bird, and she knew she was in trouble. 
There was something about the sound that was not quite right.

A dumpy dark man with long black hair stepped from behind a bush 
directly in front of her. His left hand bore a hunting knife at the 
ready. 

Even with his knife, she was sure she could take him. Her hand 
tightened on the club. She lifted it, swung it back in readiness for a 
forward attack.

Suddenly she was sitting on her butt. Someone had grabbed her weapon 
and pulled her backward. 

She looked around, and counted six Indians. They did not appear to be 
angry or attacking her. They just stood there observing their catch.

The first man spoke to the others in a language she could not 
understand, and motioned one of the others to tie a rope around her 
wrists. She heard the word Chipacasi and wondered if that was his 
name.

A second, but distant, bird screech was replied to. Minutes later six 
more people emerged from the shrubbery.

Two of them, like her, were tied at the wrists. They had apparently 
put up more of a struggle than had she. The older captive's shirt was 
shredded, and his pants torn. The younger one was totally naked, his 
sizable male member hung softly half way to his knee.

The torn trousers told her that they were sailors, and probably from 
the Bloody Cutlass. It was then that she recognized the boy. He had 
brought food to the captain's table when she and Mary had accompanied 
Jack Rackham as dinner guests in Tortuga harbor. She hoped they would 
not recognize her. Then she realized that what she was wearing told 
everyone that she too was a sailor.

The first Indian looked at the new captives, and said something to one 
of the others, who handed the boy a cloth to bind around his loins.

"Are you from the ship that ran onto the point?"

Anne turned to face the speaker. While he was dressed as were the 
others, he was obviously not Indian. His skin was black, his hair was 
kinky and tight against his skull. "No. I was a passenger on another 
ship which collided with that one, and I was thrown overboard."

No one addressed the obvious lie. Her attire was that of a seaman, not 
a passenger.

Arcadia, now covered in a deer skin loin cloth, looked like one of the 
Seminoles. He was thinner than most of them, and his hair was black, 
long, and straight. His skin color matched that of most of the tribe.

Again there was an exchange in the unknown language.

A man, just slightly older than Arcadia stepped forward, untied him 
from Jacques, and led him as though the boy were his personal prize.

Each of the captives found themselves in the custody of one of the 
eight Indians.

The black turned toward Arcadia. "Skatdow has claimed you. While you 
are with us, you will be his responsibility." An evil smile gave extra 
meaning to the rest of the message. "You are his slave, and will obey 
his every command. If you give him any trouble he has the right to 
feed you to the alligators."

Skatdow's smile was reassuring, and fantasies began to develop in 
Arcadia's mind.

The hike to the Seminole village was a short one.

Squaws, children, and other braves came into the clearing. They had 
expected the exploration to reward them with tangible things salvaged 
from a ship wreck, not three additional mouths to feed.

A heated discussion was taking place amongst the older men. That was 
interrupted by a heavy set woman whose voice was demanding, and 
authoritative.

She apparently had had the last word, turned to Jacques, took his 
binding and led him to her teepee. 

Even in a foreign language the laughter, and intonation left little 
doubt why the old woman had acquired the Frenchman.

Skatdow led Arcadia to a pile of wood, pointed toward an Axe, and 
mimed the command to cut it.

The boy thought to himself, "It's too damned hot." The Florida sun was 
now high in the sky and would remain so for quite a long time.

Sweat poured from his forehead and into his eyes, burning them. He 
wiped his arm across his face, and then groaned at the size of the 
pile of logs to be chopped.

The boy approached the dreaded task, lifted the ax, preparing to 
split a log at his feet.

A dull pain throbbed in his left shoulder, yet he drove the ax 
downward until he heard the wonderful crunching sound of splitting 
wood.

At first he was pissed at Skatdow for assigning him this task. But he 
reasoned it was an attempt to convey the message that he was Skatdow's 
property, and must be obeyed.

"I sure wish he could 'a found a lighter ax." Its weight was meant 
for a full grown man.

The muscles in his left shoulder and back cried out each time he 
raised the heavy blade. Clumsily, he drove his weapon downward with a 
momentary hatred for his master.

He groaned loudly realizing it was a bad chop. The ax head had buried 
itself deep in the log's yellowish flesh. He tugged on the handle 
without success, cursing at the sharp pains in his shoulder. Sweat ran 
down his back and under his loin cloth causing an itch on his butt.     

The leather garment seemed to have tightened from his sweat. He tried 
to put his hand inside to scratch himself, but it was too tight.

He loosed the drawn string allowing the under cup to sag down. A 
slight breeze wafted from the east. The feel of air passing over his 
butt and sweaty thighs was most welcome.

He took a firm grip on the ax handle, and lifted the heavy log from 
the ground. He took several deep breaths, ignored the pain, raised the 
log even higher, then dropped it with force. A loud crack was his 
reward as the log split announcing the blade's freedom.

He celebrated his conquering of the log with a short rest, then 
propped another log upright. This time his ax found its mark with 
care and split it. He kicked the two pieces away and quickly readied 
another while trying not to notice how many were yet to be chopped. He 
only allowed his eyes to admire the completed work.

Everything around him became a blur as he concentrated on his task. He 
set up another log, lifted the heavy ax while ignoring the pain, 
swung downward, and "crack!" 

He repeated the wearying drudge.

From time to time a villager would stop by to watch the new property 
at work.

After awhile the pile of firewood outnumbered the logs to be cut. His 
ax swung faster in spite of the pain. 

He wondered how many Indian men would stop by to watch. The younger 
ones were clad in simple breechcloths. He liked to look at their 
tanned bodies and daydream about the primitive rites they likely 
performed with each other.

A tight bulge had formed in the front of his leather covered crotch. 
He had become excited from thinking about wild savages and wondering
about their sexual habits.

He had no onlookers, so he decided to take another breather. He 
clasped the ax blade in his hands, and dropped the wooden handle over 
his crotch. Without conscious thought his hips ground his groin 
against it. He closed his eyes and daydreamed:

He was swimming in a river with his new Indian friend. Their breech 
cloths were piled together on the bank. They were swimming as youths 
do; a bit of tag, naughty hands touch daringly where they shouldn't. 
His authoritative companion leaves the water which then glistened on 
his firm, brown behind. 

In his reverie Arcadia's feelings were titillated into action. The 
sensuousness slipped from fantasy into reality. He consciously ended 
his lusty daydream. He was too close to climaxing! One part of him 
wished to get caught, but a wet puddle in the crotch of his loin cloth 
would be visible to all.

Furtively he looked around, to make certain that he was not being 
observed, and was embarrassed to discover two small boys pointing to 
him and laughing. He repositioned himself vertically, pulled the 
breech cloth firmly upward, and retied it.

Once again he raised the heavy ax and continued his chore, replacing 
his musings with hard work. Surprisingly the pain in his shoulder had 
disappeared. 

-----------------

Anne, who now, was answering to the name of Arnie, had been assigned 
to a hunting party. 

That party of five proceeded, on foot, south and west into a swampy 
region. There was a smell to the air which came from stagnant water.

Only the sounds of an occasional squawking bird, and the ever present 
croak of a Leopard Frog could be heard. Then that changed to absolute 
silence. 

The lead brave signaled them to stop. He looked around with both his 
eyes and his ears.

Then there was a furtive rustle in the saw grass followed by the 
sounds of something moving through water.

They stepped forward, a foot at time, in an attempt to see more yet 
not spook the wild life.

At first the tannin brown pond looked like it was devoid of life, 
except for a small ripple in the vicinity of a log.

A kite bird swooped down, gliding along the surface of the water, 
hoping to find an insect for its dinner.

The ripples dampened into nonexistence. The bird circled, and landed 
on the log. And still all was quiet.

Quite suddenly there was a ferocious movement as a heavy tail lashed 
out of the water striking the tiny fowl. Instantly a mouth of flashing 
white and red appeared at the end of the log. Two rows of keen teeth 
snapped shut as a scissors-like jaw closed and the bird became the 
meal.

The alligator slid through the water, then submerged, and absolute 
silence returned to the swamp.

The Indians moved closer to the pond. Just ahead of them, laying 
quietly on a flat point of land was another 'gator. He seemed to be 
asleep as the sun warmed its body.

Anne moved closer while the others stood still.

She had seen alligators in Jamaica and had always wanted to hunt one; 
now was her chance.

She turned toward the nearest brave, pointed to the knife at his 
waist.

The brave shook his head "No".

She shrugged her shoulders, then leapt at the reptile, grabbed the end 
of its tail, and swung it in circles around her head. The startled 
animal was being held by centrifugal force. Anne released the creature. 
It sailed through the air and struck a nearby cypress tree with such 
impact that the trunk vibrated, and the hanging Spanish moss swayed 
wildly. The unconscious reptile lay on its back.

The Indian who had refused her the knife placed it in her hand. She 
moved fast; she would have to kill the 'gator before it regained 
consciousness.

A quick plunge in the neck, just below the jaw, was followed by a 
forceful downward cut. This animal would be their meal.

She moved away from her prey, and returned the knife to its owner.

A sound of approval came from the astonished hunters.

Two others stepped forward and proceeded to gut the creature, and then 
tied it to a pole.

The party returned to the village, and Arnie's (Anne's) status had 
changed.

---------------

The teepees of the Seminole Indians was not like those of their 
northern counterparts. They were neither conical nor portable. 

Each dwelling was rectangular, constructed from logs. The shelters 
were little more than four poles supporting a roof made from palm 
fronds.

Each was built upon a wooden platform which raised the floor at least 
two feet above the bare ground.

Long blades of saw grass had been woven into curtains which could be 
lowered to provide a degree of protection and privacy. Mostly, they 
remained rolled up allowing what ever breeze there might be to cool 
the interior. The one exception was the teepee to which Jacques had 
been taken.

In the late afternoon the village women gathered, and began preparing 
a community meal. 

A fire had been built. Once the burning had changed from flames to 
coals they roasted chunks of the alligator along with a number of 
rabbits.

It was during that meal the captives learned that slavery was not 
customary among the Seminole. Mostly that practice was limited to 
short intervals during which captive whites were taught the lesson of 
how unfair slavery was to other humans. The invading Spaniards had 
taught their ancestors well more than two generations ago.

The cruel memory of the Spaniard Narvez feeding the chief's great 
great grandmother alive to snarling greyhounds would remain forever as 
her screams still echoed through the ages; the event being lived and 
re-lived in the history of the tribe.

Jacques had proposed that they remain with the Indians for a week or 
two until they would be safe from arrest. They offered to pay for 
their keep.

In the end, the negotiation permitted them to retrieve the treasure, 
buy horses and supplies, and then proceed west as soon as they felt it 
to be safe.

The Indians assumed that the price included all three of the captives. 
Jacques was not happy about that, but kept his peace, not wanting to 
sour the deal. To himself he resolved to talk to the seaman.

That night the sleeping arrangements surprised them all.

Arcadia slept in Skatdow's teepee, but the curtains remained up, and 
they slept at opposite ends of the structure.

Jacques returned to the privacy of the old woman's quarters.

Ann retired, as had Arcadia, sharing the teepee of the Indian who would 
not loan her his knife; curtains rolled up, and laying at opposite 
ends of the structure.

All three of them slept soundly, each having exhausted themselves in 
the performance of their assigned tasks.

Early next morning she was awakened by the sounds of someone on horse 
back, entering the village at a gallop. Her eyes flinched at the 
brightness of the sun. 

As he dismounted two braves came out of their huts, and crossed the 
open ground. The stranger was an Indian, but he was dressed in a piece 
meal assemblage of a Spanish army uniform. The eldest villager hugged 
the soldier to his breast. They spoke quietly, then the rider rode 
back to the east from whence he came.

The early morning visit had stirred the village. Squaws came into the 
open and asked what it was about.

Soon it became common knowledge that the fort had sent a party to 
scout the beach to verify the destruction of the Bloody Cutlass, and 
look for survivors.

The Indian was from this village. While he was employed by the Army, 
he was placed there by his chief to keep the Seminoles apprised of 
army action, and policy. He was a spy.

He reported that the Seminoles had searched the area, and there were 
no survivors.

Nevertheless the four horsemen rode south along the beach with an eye 
to the sky for circling birds. Before noon they had returned to the 
fort.

------------------

The Seagull and the Swan Louie were moored within hailing distance of 
one another. The closeness of shared danger had bonded the two crews; 
to a point. However the French ship did not know the Seagull's deepest 
secret: Two of its crew were ghosts.

Lucy was delighted when she heard the news that they were to be 
returned to New Orleans. Julie was not. She had left home as a virgin. 
In the past several months she had developed a great appetite for 
being pleasured.

Even though the red headed seaman had been her only lover, he had been 
a constant one.

Her future appeared dismal. In desperation her mind created sexual 
fantasies where Sean of the de Iberville was the central character 
with abilities that approached those of a Greek god. 

She played with the idea of marriage with her sailor, and vowed to 
entice him into a proposal.

The captains of both vessels had agreed to provide an escort for the 
two girls. 

At Jerry's prompting she, Jack, and Scott would accompany them to New 
Orleans.

The Swan Louie would proceed to France, the Seagull would transport a 
cargo to Jamaica, and Jack was to seek working passage as a crewman on 
a vessel traveling from New Orleans to Port Royal.

Doctor Radliffe had decided to return to Tortuga, and offered to 
replace Jack as a crewman on the Seagull.

------------------------

Things were a bit dull for Anne as the first days merged into the 
second week.

Several times black men entered the village escorted by none Indian 
men. They were always received with courtesy, and were not treated as 
disrespectfully as Jacques or Arcadia had been.

Usually within two days the newcomers would disappear. Anne inquired 
and was told they had moved further south, along the Kissimmee, deeper 
into the Everglades. The run-a-way slaves would be safer there. Few 
whites ever visited that area, and the few who did were escorted 
guests.

Duplicity was the keyword in describing the relations between the Army 
and the Seminoles. Neither trusted the other, but neither felt 
compelled to escalate the relationship to the status of war.

The white man's government condoned slavery, while the Seminoles did 
not. 

The Indians felt justified in protecting those men from the north who 
sought their sanctuary.

Underlying that policy was the often repeated message delivered by 
their ancestor Acuera to de Soto almost a century before:

"To me you are professional vagabonds who wander from place to place, 
gaining your livelihood by robbing, sacking, and murdering people who 
have given you no offense. 

"I want no manner of friendship or peace with people such as you ... I 
am a king in my land and it is unnecessary for me to become the 
subject of a person who has no more vassals than I. I regard those men 
as vile and contemptible who subject themselves to the yoke of someone 
else when they can live as free men ... I and all my people have vowed 
to die a hundred deaths to maintain the freedom of our land."

-------------------------

The destruction of the Bloody Cutlass had ended the King's scrutiny of 
his new world colonies. The pressure was off of his governors, and 
army officers.  Any interest in Indian affairs became more a matter of 
local ego.

------------------------

Both Scott and Jack were unhappy with their lack of privacy onboard 
the Seagull, so they were looking forward to the journey to New 
Orleans.

Even though all of the crew knew they were lover's that did not stop the 
men from being turned on when the two were making love.

On more than one occasion they had finished their trip up the mountain 
only to discover that they had had an audience; an audience that 
wanted some of the same.

Jack had always been on good terms with his mates, but recently Jose 
had become a downright pain in the ass.

Unlike the others who only wanted to get off with either Scott or 
Jerry, Jose was demanding some of the same from Jack.

With Scott and Jerry it was a necessity; either "eat" or perish.

Jack's only sexual interest was Scott. After all they were lovers.

Jerry, on the other hand had no problems dinning. Her appetite had been 
increasing; she couldn't seem to be able to get her fill. And, like a 
woman, she was thinking ahead. She wondered if Jack could supply both 
of their needs on the week's journey. Of course there was always the 
opportunity of encountering fast food along the trail.

For almost a week they sought to purchase horses, but found them in 
short supply. When the day of departure finally arrived they had 
acquired only three mounts. 

After much conversation it was decided that the ghosts would double up 
with Jack and Lucy. If they remained de-materialized it would conserve 
their need for Ectoplasm. Also, there might be extra security in 
having two "hidden" members in their party.

The fact that Scott and Jerry must be naked while being invisible had 
only one draw back, and that was in the transition of re-
materializing. There were always a few minutes when they were totally 
bare.

--------------------------

Jacques had come to terms with "Arnie" on the matter of the fee paid 
to the Indians. Rumors came from the fort that the Major was not 
convinced of the total loss of the crew from the Cutlass and was 
planning a search deep into the 'Glades.

It was time for them to head west.

Skatdow had been teasing Arcadia about the fun to be had some three 
days ride from the village. Pensacola was an uninhibited place. 
Indians, run-a-way slaves, and army deserters sought its pleasures of 
booze, whores, and gambling.

Chipacasi had taken a liking to his guests. Arne was a brave youth 
worthy of respect. Skatdow had been pleased by the attention given to 
him by Arcadia, which also pleased the chief. 

He smiled to himself remembering the sounds of pleasure that emanated 
from the closed teepee of the old woman. Even the Frenchman had not 
limited the exercise of his assigned task.

The horses that were given to the three were the best the tribe had to 
offer.

Their brother from the fort had brought clothing suitable for the 
journey. But Arcadia had chosen to be dressed as a Seminole. His deer 
skin loin cloth was a great temptation to Jacques; and that pleased 
the youth.

The Indians had an eye for bright colors. Skatdow had given him a snow 
white animal tail to be slung across the shoulder and a belt to hold 
his knife woven from strings of soft deer skin, dyed red and blue.

The white fur contrasted beautifully with Arcadia's dark skin. He 
looked so much like an Indian brave that the heart of the chief 
embraced him as though he were his own son.

Skatdow volunteered to guide them west beyond the edge of Seminole 
territory.

They departed just as the sun lightened the night sky. The boy and the 
Indian rode abreast. The white tail bounced on the back of his 
shoulders, and the loin cloth did little to hide the firm buttocks of 
either.

Jacques and Arnie followed behind in a single line.

Occasionally Arcadia would slow his pace, and drop behind to chat with 
the Frenchman, trying to bridge the developing gap. Jacques and the 
boy were still partners. Skatdow would be gone before sunset.

In reality both were somewhat jealous of the other. The cook had "gone 
beyond the call of duty", in keeping the squaw happy. And the boy's 
attachment to Skatdow and been obvious to all.
 
For awhile the pseudo Indian had toyed with the idea of staying with 
the tribe. But Skatdow's description of Pensacola, and their plans to 
start their own inn in New Orleans had forced him to abandon the 
dream. If the Spanish Major discovered him, it would be the hangman's 
noose. Also the Frenchman had been good to the lad. No. The future 
would be brighter once they reached the safety of New Orleans.

His feeling of belonging was a false one born of his appearance and 
acceptance by Chipacasi and his tribesman. But deep down inside he 
would always wonder what it would have been like to have had a wild 
Indian as his lover.

The ride was full of wonder as the terrain changed from saw grass, and 
swamp water. The ground became more solid, the air smelled less of the 
swamp.

More and different birds appeared, and the small wild life became more 
abundant.

The sky was beginning to darken when Skatdow found a spot devoid of 
undergrowth. He announced that they would make camp for the night, 
then in the morning he would return to his village. Just ahead, less 
than a half mile was the trail heading west toward Pensacola.

They ate sparsely of dried meat and vegetables from a supply brought 
by the Indian. Then took turns at watch while the others slept.

At daybreak they were awakened by Skatdow. He would leave them to 
return to his village.

The others still ached from sleeping on the hard ground, and delayed 
their departure 'til their guide had left them.

Still in the guise of an Indian Arcadia led the way, following the 
well marked trail north west.

As they rode the terrain changed less. The trail was free of under and 
over growth. It was obviously well used. Yet during the course of the 
day they encountered no one.

Before sunset they found a clearing through which a small stream 
flowed. The horses were watered and tied to a tree in a grassy area.

They ate lightly of dried meat, fruit, and vegetables supplied by the 
Seminoles. Again they took turns at watch while the other two slept.

Tomorrow evening they should reach Pensacola. Even Arnie was looking 
forward to that.

She had always been an early morning person and was up before the 
others. Life at sea had taught her that indeed the early bird got the 
worm.

She scrounged through their saddle bags till she found the small tin 
pot the Frenchman had used to brew tea. But they had used the last of 
that last night.

Looking around she saw several tall stands of grass. It was dark green 
in color, and she decided to try brewing that.

Using some dried grass and a few pieces of broken tree branches she 
finally had a small fire going. 

She filled the pot with fresh stream water, and set it on a stone in 
the center of the fire. 

As she washed the freshly picked grass she laughed to herself; she was 
acting like a woman.

Surprisingly the grass was quite aromatic. She allowed it to steep in 
the hot water till it was the color of good English tea. 

It was while she was thus occupied that three riders on horseback came 
into sight from the east.

She was surprised; they were teenagers; two females and one boy.

The girls had been giggling about something, but abruptly stopped when 
they spotted the clearing and its occupants.

"Jacques get your arse up. We's got company."

Arcadia stirred first, an eye squinting in her direction. Then he too 
spotted the visitors. Quickly he turned to the Frenchman and shook him 
by the shoulder. "Jacques.. Jacques we got visitors. Wake up."

What the newcomers saw, was a young man stirring a pot. An Indian 
being awakened, and the cook from the Bloody Cutlass.

At first no one recognized Jacques. His hair was much longer, and his 
clothes were not that of a seaman. Also his skin had tanned deeply.

There was something familiar about the white youth at the pot. But no 
one could put a name or place to him.

"What are you brewing? That smell's awful good. Mind if we rest a bit 
before going on," Jack asked.

"Tea from that wild grass. Where you folks a heading?" Arnie 
recognized the new visitor. He was the one Mary had had her way with 
onboard the Revenge. She told herself to be very careful. None of the 
ex-pirates could afford to be found out.

Lucy spoke first, "Home to New Orleans."

Then Jack interjected, "Hoping to be in Pensacola before night fall, 
then tomorrow we will continue west."

Unseen Jerry whispered in Lucy's ear. "Don't tell them too much. We 
shouldn't trust anyone; specially strangers we find along the trail."

Jerry should have told that to Scott as his counseling to Jack was 
just the opposite, "Find out if they are heading west, and if they 
wants company. Safety in numbers, ya know."

Thus, it became a party of eight: Two girls, one Indian, one teenage 
white boy, an older white man, a woman disguised as a young man, and 
two ghosts. But the ghosts remained a secret.

Long before they reached Pensacola the pairing up of the members of 
the party became obvious; or at least obvious to the newcomers. The 
pairs were: The Frenchman and the Indian, Lucy and Jerry, Jack and 
Scotty. Interestingly this left Arnie and Julie as the unmatched 
singles ... and she was beginning to have lustful thoughts about him.

It was to Arnie's dismay that Julie began to flirt with him/her.

Where the trail was wide enough they would ride two abreast, but 
mostly it was in single file.

As an "Indian" Arcadia led the way, really getting into the part he 
was playing. It was funny watching the newcomers react toward him. He 
would a bet that had he let out a blood curdling holler they would 
have scattered like a bunch of scared chickens.

He noticed that the horse faced wench kept trying to squeeze in 
alongside of Arnie. All the signs were there, he was sure Arnie would 
be a fucken her tonight if they camped out on the trail again.

The sun had set, but the sky was still quite bright; dusk. Ahead they 
could see lights in the distance. That must be Pensacola. The town, if 
you could call it that, lay on both sides of the trail.

Soon the sounds of drunks, gamblers, and rowdy men reached their ears, 
then totally submerged their conversation.

The buildings were little more than an assemblage of huts similar to 
the Seminole teepee's; A roof supported by poles. Woven, but rolled up 
curtains were the only walls. Some of the huts were equipped with what 
might be called beds. Some were open walled whore houses. They could 
see naked men fucking naked women, all within the view of the next hut 
which served as a bar. There the beds had been replaced by two long 
counters separated by a narrow aisle. On the street side stood the 
customers. The casks of drink sat on the opposite counter. Many of the 
men drank their booze while watching the action in the whore house. 
The many obvious boners suggested these drinkers would be the next lot 
to lay the whores.

Further down the street were more of the bed huts, only an occasional 
fuck was going on in those. Jacques guessed, correctly, that these 
served as hotels.

Arnie and Arcadia displayed the most interest in what the town had to 
offer. Booze and wenching were not foreign to her. She had played the 
man's roll too many time in the past to be either surprised or 
uncomfortable.

The tales that Skatdow had told Arcadia had the youth in a randy 
state. So while the others made arrangements for food and shelter he 
and Arnie strode into the bar hut, ordered a flagon of ale, and 
watched the show.

The boy was getting strange and unfriendly looks from the 
predominately white crowd. Then he noticed another bar hut across the 
street, in which most of its customers were either black or Indians. A 
drunk further down the bar shouted, "Indians and dogs ain't welcome 
here. Join your own kind, or we will fuck you and save the cost of a 
whore."

Arnie grasped the boy by the arm and escorted him across the street. 
But now the antagonism was directed toward her.

She suggested they turn in, but Arcadia wanted to drink, gamble, and 
fuck. So she left him warning that they would be departing early in 
the morning.

She walked down the dirt road in an exaggerated swagger, being more 
masculine than any male would have been.

A woman's scream reached her ears as she approached one of the huts. 
The curtains were rolled down, and it sounded like one of their girls.

She stepped through the corner of the curtain, and there was Julie, on 
the bed. A man who was at least 200 pounds and 6 foot tall stood in 
front of her, holding the night gown he had ripped from her body. He 
had open his pants and his dick stuck out ready to fuck any hole he 
could find.

Arnie grabbed a chair and crashed it down on the man's head. It 
splintered but did not stop him. He turned toward his attacker, and 
grabbed for the musket at his waist, but his preparation to fuck Julie 
had shifted the weapon, and he missed. In that extra moment she took 
the broken leg of the chair, and jammed its jagged edges into the 
man's groin. He howled, and cursed. When he moved toward Arnie his 
weapon slid to the ground. They both dove for it, and they hit head to 
head, knocking the weapon out of their reach. It was then that she 
played the ace card that she had played three times before. She ripped 
open her shirt displaying her breasts. The man gawked at the woman 
before him. That momentary gawk was all Anne needed. She slid across 
the floor on her side, grabbing the gun, and fired it as her assailant 
flung himself at her. The blast caught him in the groin; he was now a  
bloody mess; a dying eunuch.

Jack and the Frenchman were the first to enter, followed by Lucy. 
Julie was hysterical, and Arnie tried to calm everyone explaining what 
had happened.

Oddly no one else came to investigate.

Pensacola was a man's pleasure place. The only women were the ones who 
served those pleasures.

The only Law was the law of the guns held by the owners of the huts.
 
Jacques said he'd better find Arcadia. "Best they hit the trail right 
away."

By midnight the six horses, one Frenchman, one pseudo Indian, one make 
believe man, Lucy, a still frightened Julie, Jack, and two ghosts 
quietly, but hurriedly left the roaring hubbub of Pensacola.

There was a quarter moon which lit the trail.

The cooling air calmed them down, and they continued riding 'til 
almost four in the morning. 

They found a place to camp, and settled down. Julie put her bed roll 
next to Arnie's, and Arcadia thought to himself, "I knows she gonna 
get some dick tonight."

They slept soundly, but both Jacques and Arcadia experienced very real 
wet dreams. Neither spoke of it, attributing it to Pensacola.

Upon awakening they discovered Arnie, his horse, and bedroll were 
gone.

During the night she had examined the events of the past year. Every 
time she had been in trouble it had been heaped upon her through those 
she had chosen to live with. Jack Rackham had almost put a noose 
around her neck. 

The idea that Captain Frank had had was a damned good one. Alone, with 
a good horse, she could do well as a land pirate. 

She scribbled a note in the earth, saying she had decided to try it on 
her own.

Other than Julie, no one seemed concerned. Jacques and Arcadia had 
felt she was an interloper. 

Only Julie knew that Arnie was not a man, and Jerry had not made the 
connection.

Three days later the group arrived in New Orleans.

The two girls bade a tearful good-bye, as Jack, Arcadia, and Jacques 
continued into town.

Jacques and Arcadia began one of New Orleans most successful eateries. 
We can not tell you which one, but it has been around for more than 
200 years.

Anne Bonney continued to hide her sexual identity, but consciously 
refused to set a pattern, seeking to become just another outlaw, not 
someone with a posted price upon there head.

The boy child she had given birth to, migrated north into the new 
colonies, eventually spawning a boy child by the name of Benjamin. Who 
in turn had a child who he named Barnabas. It is widely held that 
Barnabas was the name of Billy the Kid's genetic father.

If so, then the early killing of Billy the Kid at the age of only 21 
underlines some truth in the old saying about children paying for the 
sins of their fathers.

Billy the Kid's legal name was Henry McCarty, and he was born in New 
York City on 17 September 1859, a little more than one hundred years 
after Anne had become a land pirate. His father died shortly 
thereafter, and the family then moved to near Wichita, Kansas. He was 
in Kansas by 1870. Three years later his mother married William Antrim 
in Santa Fe, New Mexico on the first of March, 1873. After this 
marriage the boy was called "Billy Antrim." A few years later the 
Antrims moved to the mining town of Silver City, New Mexico, where the 
boy acquired a reputation for wildness. He had inherited that same 
taste for the spice of risk and adventure. He, however, did not kill 
anyone in Silver City, as it was rumored.

Still itching to strike it rich, Billy and his stepfather finally 
decided to go to Arizona ... to the recently discovered silver 
deposits in a place that was called "Globe City." They arrived there 
about 1876, and it was in Globe that Billy actually ran afoul of the 
law for a serious offense: stealing horses. Apparently, he also 
rustled cattle. He was rowdy and often involved in gambling and 
similar nefarious pursuits. Again there is a great similarity between 
he and Anne Bonney.

In August 1877 Billy was at Fort Grant. The Kid was tormented in a bar 
there by another rowdy, by the name of Frank Cahill. The Kid did not 
take kindly to the razzing, and so he shot and killed Cahill. The Kid 
was captured and jailed, but he escaped and went to Lincoln County, 
New Mexico. That incident has a lot in common with Anne's defense of 
Julie in Pensacola.

For awhile the Kid rambled around the Ruidoso Valley and was then 
employed by John H. Tunstall. It was Tunstall that was responsible to 
a great extent for the famous "Lincoln County War" in which the Kid 
played a principal part. 

Billy had taken great personal offense to the killing of his mentor. 
And vowed to take revenge. Could it be that Billy had also inherited 
the bi-sexual traits of his ancestor?

There were many violent incidents in which the Kid was involved and, 
finally, he was captured. He escaped this capture also, but was 
eventually shot down by Sheriff Pat Garrett on 14 July 1881 in Fort 
Sumner, New Mexico. Unlike Anne, he did pay for his crime. Not by 
hanging, but by being ambushed by someone whom he knew and trusted.

Lucy and Julie were welcomed home. Eventually both girls married, but 
they had a bond of secrecy that remained untold for the remainder of 
their lives. They had both tasted of woman love. They both knew that 
ghosts were not something to fear.

After delivering the girls to their parents Jack found a place on a 
small ship whose destination was Port Royal. He, Scott, and Jerry 
sailed from New Orleans in February of that year. But their ship 
perished in a hurricane.

Over the centuries it has been rumored that there sails in the Bermuda 
Triangle a ghost ship crewed by two women, and two men: Mary Read, 
Jerry, Scott, and Jack.

Those that encountered the ship experienced incredibly real wet 
dreams, shortly before, and for several days afterward.

As the years past the crew has grown. There are some that wear the 
uniform of a jet pilot, a modern day yachtsman, or clothes of 
yesteryear. 

The crew comes and goes, but the four leaders appear to remain 
forever.

There is the still unanswered question: "Why is it that Jack, Scott, 
Jerry, and Mary remain aboard the ghost ship, while the others come 
and go?"


THE END.