Mona, Farley, and Rupert Hunt sat around a large nicked harvest table as Mary dished out steaming hot venison stew thick with carrots, onions, turnips, celery, and canned tomatoes. A skillet of cornbread was passed around followed by freshly churned butter.
A lanky, black-haired man with a pencil thin mustache came from a back bedroom, followed by a woman with short, reddish hair wearing dungarees. A dog of indiscriminant sorts with brown and white fur followed and lay by the fire. He glanced at Chloe and then his eyes returned to the woman.
Rupert said, “Let me introduce Chester Combs. He’s a geologist from Morehead State Teachers College and will be accompanying us.”
After learning everyone’s name, Chester smiled, “Hello. I actually teach music, but geology was a minor for me. I love rocks and songwriters as well. Nice to meet you.” He turned to the woman standing beside him. “And this lovely lass is Althea. She will be joining us for dinner.”
Althea sat down at the table. “Hello, everyone. That mutt over there is my dog, Freddy.”
“I’m Mona and this is Dr. Farley.”
Farley tried not to grimace and said, “Hello.”
“Are you keen on our adventure, Chester?” Mona asked.
Chester unfolded his napkin. “I’m keen on collecting rock samples. I’m afraid Rupert is the only believer in John Swift here. However, if we find a silver mine, Rupert will go down in history and the rest of his group, myself included, will bask in his glory.” Chester sliced a huge chunk off the butter and passed the plate to his right.
Mary said, “I’m afraid the butter tastes a little off. The cow got into some wild garlic.”
Farley grabbed several slices of cornbread and passed the skillet to Rupert. “Miss Mary, I’m so hungry I could eat that cow all by myself.”
Mary dished another helping of stew into a bowl and passed it down to Farley. “Then by all means, eat up. We’ve got plenty.”
“I’m sorry we held up your dinner,” Mona said. “We thought we’d make better time. It’s only 140 miles from Moon Manor but getting here was harder than I anticipated.”
“No need to give it a second thought,” Althea said, buttering her cornbread. She poured molasses on a plate and dipped her buttered cornbread in it. “The condition of the road after Manchester is dreadful. The county needs to fix the myriad of potholes. They are so deep, you could lose a donkey in them.” She lifted a pitcher from the table. “Mona, would you like some buttermilk?”
“No thank you. I’ve never acquired the taste for it.”
“I would like some, please,” Rupert said, holding out an empty bowl.
Althea poured buttermilk into his bowl.
Farley watched with fascination as Rupert took his cornbread and crumbled it up into the bowl of buttermilk.
Rupert caught Farley staring and grinned. “You’ve caught me, Dr. Farley. I’m just a simple country boy. We poor folk eat cornbread and buttermilk this way to get the fat and carbohydrates we need. Simple but effective and fast.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to ogle,” Farley apologized.
“When you live in the mountains, you grow your own garden and hunt or starve. We have quite the garden in the summertime,” Mary said. “I know this food is not as elegant as your table, Mona, but it sticks to your ribs.”
Mona laughed. “You’ll hear no complaints from me, Mary. It’s delicious.”
“Thank you,” Althea said. “I hunted the deer and cooked the stew. I can’t take credit for the vegetables, though.”
“Are you the cook here?” Farley asked.
Althea tensed up. “No, Dr. Farley. I’m a nurse.”
Mary interjected, “Althea is one of our finest midwives. She’s birthed over thirty-two babies—all perfectly healthy.”
“I tip my hat to you, Miss Althea,” Farley said.
“Althea wants to be a doctor. I’m sure she will make a fine one,” Mary said.
“Miss Mary is ahead of herself. I have to save the money for school first. It’s hard to do so with the economy as it is,” Althea said.
Mary added, “Althea will be your guide to the ridge. She’ll keep you safe from the moonshiners.”
“I know where every whiskey still is on this side of Pine Mountain. You’ll be safe with me.”
“How dangerous is it?” Rupert asked.
Althea said, “I would advise you that if you stumble upon a still—run, don’t walk and stay away from any ginseng plants. People sell ginseng, and they are fiercely protective of their patches.”
Mona spoke up. “Dr. Farley and I heard about Dr. Hunt’s venture in the mountains, and we thought we’d tag along. An adventure of sorts.”
“Uh huh,” Althea said, not quite convinced.
Farley added, “I’m looking for an heirloom strain of corn native to the area. I am skeptical of Dr. Hunt’s search, myself.”
Rupert gave Farley a look of disdain.
Althea said, “Some adjustments will have to be made. Mona, you’ll have to switch to pants because we’ll be riding horses into the mountains.”
“No roads?”
“Not where Dr. Hunt wants to go.”
“And where is that, old man?” Farley asked, reaching for the salt.
“We will be searching for silver mines on the north side of Pine Mountain.”
“Where exactly on Pine Mountain?” Farley asked, his eyes squinting.
“Sorry, I can’t tell you. After all, you’re looking for corn, remember?”
Farley turned to Mary. “Miss Mary, do you have a map of the area?”
“I’ll be glad to loan it to you, Dr. Farley or may I call you Bob?”
Farley flinched. He hated the name “Bob.”
Mona grinned and Rupert joined in, causing Farley to scowl.
Mary said, “It is very important that everyone stick to their cover story. People must not suspect that you are looking for the Swift mines.”
“You said mines, Mary. I thought they were looking for one mine,” Althea said.
“There may be more than one mine according to Swift’s journal. Gives us a better chance of finding something,” Rupert said.
“Oh,” Althea said, looking unconvinced.
Rupert nodded and said, “We’ll work our way across the mountain ridge until we reach Pine Mountain Settlement.”
“What’s that?” Mona asked.
“It’s a boarding school. My friend Katherine founded it. At the end of your journey, you are to go there. Katherine will send word to me, and my nurses will have your vehicles waiting for you in London,” Mary said.
Mona asked, “We’re not to come back here?”
“Believe me when I say that once you reach the Pine Mountain Settlement, you’ll be done with the mountains for a while. It will be best that you leave the area,” Mary answered. “The more we can keep your visit quiet, the better for all concerned. Katherine will provide transportation to London.”
“Is there a road between here and the Pine Mountain Settlement?” Farley asked.
Althea said, “I wouldn’t call it exactly a road.”
“I thought US 421 was to come through,” Farley said.
“Hasn’t quite made it yet,” Mary said. “You’re beginning to see our main problem in Eastern Kentucky—the lack of reliable and safe transportation. There are few cars here. Most people still rely on horses to get about. The coal and logging industries have built some good roads but they are few and far between.”
“Imagine,” Mona said. “People still using horses for transportation in this day and age.”
“I have everything mapped out,” Rupert said. “We’ll be following ancient warrior paths deep into the forest. The locals still use them. Current maps are not going to be of help to us.”
“Charming,” Farley muttered.
“I’m afraid I’m with Dr. Farley on this, Dr. Hunt. I like to know where I’m going,” Mona said. “Are you strictly using John Swift’s maps?”
Rupert said, “First of all, let’s call everyone by their first name. I don’t see the need for this formality.”
“Agreed,” Farley said.
“Good. Back to business. I will be referring to one of the oldest Swift maps, and I will also be using an old French trapper’s map of footpaths in Eastern Kentucky.”
“The terrain will have changed since the 1600s,” Farley said.
“But the rock formations have remained the same. That’s one of the reasons I’m coming,” Chester explained. “I’m going to help Rupert decipher the maps.”
Concerned, Farley would not let up. “That’s the problem. A map may say ‘large rock formation resembling an elephant.’ That description is subjective, and there may be three rock formations in the area which resemble an elephant.”
“I think I’ll be able to assist with the interpretation of the maps,” Althea offered. “I know all the ancient legends concerning this area.”
“Do you believe in the John Swift legend, Althea?” Mona asked.
“I don’t know about John Swift but I believe there may be some truth to silver mines in the area.”
“What makes you think so?” Mona asked, before reaching for the cornbread.
Rupert passed Mona the cornbread skillet as she thanked him.
Farley couldn’t help but notice how warmly they smiled at each other. Drats!
Althea continued. “Most people incorrectly think Kentucky’s European history began with Daniel Boone. We know Hernando de Soto explored Kentucky in 1543 looking for gold. We know Kentucky was explored by Robert de La Salle in 1669, by Thomas Batts in 1671, and Father Jacques Marquette in 1673.”
“The first English explorer was Dr. Thomas Walker in 1750. That’s late, but it was still seventeen years before Daniel Boone entered Kentucky,” Mary added.
Rupert added, “Most people don’t know this either. Natives lived in Kentucky until the mid eighteenth-century. The last town was called Eskippikithiki which they burned before moving across to Ohio.”
“Why did they leave?” Chester asked.
“There are many theories. Since they burned their town to the ground, it might have been due to measles or smallpox. Coming in contact with the white man was hazardous for an Indian’s health,” Althea mused.
“I thought de Soto only explored western Kentucky,” Farley said, grabbing an apple from a basket on the table.
“There is evidence the Spanish were throughout the Appalachian Mountains including where we’re heading,” Rupert said, excitedly.
Mona was interested and felt it would be a major find if they could prove the Spanish were definitely in Eastern Kentucky. She leaned forward and asked, “Based on what evidence, Rupert?”
“We know de Soto was looking for precious metals in the New World. He mined gold in Georgia. Many believe he had found mines in the mountains. Spanish doubloons have been found throughout Kentucky, Tennessee, and West Virginia.”
“That’s it?” Farley scoffed. “That’s all you’ve got? Must be thousands of square miles you’re talking about.”
Rupert held up his hand. “Be patient, Bob. A four-ounce lump of silver was found in 1872 near a rock with the date of June 3rd, 1632 inscribed in Spanish. This was in Jackson County, Kentucky, not too far from here.”
“There’s a problem right there. De Soto landed in Florida in 1539, almost a hundred years earlier,” Farley said.
“Yes, but the location of the mines would have been transmitted to the Spanish government by the expedition, and Spain would have sent men to work the mines or least explore for them.”
Mona asked, “Do you think de Soto was looking for El Dorado?”
Chester answered, “I think that is plausible, and possibly a route to China.”
Farley argued, “I’d like to know how Spain received word on these mines. De Soto died en route and over half of his seven hundred men died as well. Most of the survivors never returned to Europe.”
Althea said, “We know the Spanish had contact with the indigenous people. The Cherokee say the Spanish enslaved them to work the mines which had already been worked by the Cherokee for centuries. Archeologists have discovered all sorts of grave artifacts made of precious metals such as copper axes, silver bracelets, earrings, and other ceremonial objects in native graves made long before the Spanish arrived, so we know the Woodland peoples mined and smelted ore for their own use. Even French fur trappers and explorers noted the amount of silver the Shawnee and Cherokee wore.”
Rupert added, “We have a 1690 written account by James Moore, Secretary of the Virginia colony, stating that he discovered previous activity of Spanish mining and smelting near Kings Mountain, North Carolina and that the Indians claimed they had killed the Spanish miners.”
“Again, what has that got to do with Kentucky?” Farley asked. “North Carolina is many miles from Kentucky.”
“The Indians even used silver for making bullets,” Althea said, ignoring Farley. “Jenny Wiley said she was forced to smelt silver for making bullets during her captivity.”
Mona asked, “Who is Jenny Wiley?”
Mary answered, “Jenny is very famous in these parts. She was captured in 1789 by a band of braves who killed her family, including her brother and her five children. Her husband was away on business. She escaped after eleven months in captivity. She claimed the Indians, consisting of Cherokee and Shawnee men, mined ore and she helped them smelt silver into bullets. Tradition says the smelting took place under a rock shelter in Eastern Kentucky.”
Rupert added. “What I’m trying to prove is that the local natives knew how to mine, smelt, and create beautiful objects long before the white man appeared. This was noted by the Spanish conquistadors who enslaved these people to either betray the location of the mines or to work them.” He looked around the table. “Can we agree on this fact?”
Althea nodded.
Mary said, “I’m game.”
Chester smiled and looked at Rupert, nodding.
Farley lit a cigarette, saying, “I believe the locals worked mines and made their own objects from copper, silver, and sometimes gold. I also believe de Soto enslaved them to work the mines, but on the other side of the Appalachian Mountains. Nowhere near Kentucky. De Soto didn’t come this far north nor did other Spaniards years later.” After receiving a fierce look from Mary, Farley took another puff and threw the cigarette into the fireplace.
“Miss Mary?” Rupert asked.
Mary laughed and shook her head. “I’m not getting into this bear fight. I have no opinion except to say it would be exciting if you could find something concrete. Personally all these dates are making my head spin. I don’t know how you keep the people and the years straight.”
Rupert looked around at the expectant faces sitting around the harvest table. The fire crackled in the fireplace as Mary threw another log on the fire while Althea poured everyone another cup of coffee and then cut squares in the gingerbread she had made for dessert.
“Smells lovely,” Farley said after receiving a plate of gingerbread with a brown sugar and cinnamon sauce poured over it.
Mona teased, “Give Bob another piece. He’ll agree to anything if he’s fed enough.”
Mary produced a jug of moonshine and poured a little bit in everyone’s cup. “To keep the night chills away.”
Rupert took a sip. “Lordy, this stuff will put hair on your chest. Ladies, beware.” He took another sip. “Shall I go on?”
“Please do,” Mary said. “I find this fascinating.”
“After the Indians ran the Spaniards off, then came the French traders and later the English—that’s where John Swift comes in.”
“Did the French look for the mines?” Mona asked, refusing cake. She didn’t care for the taste of ginger.
“Somewhat, but their main focus was establishing fur trade with the native peoples and building forts. The English came later and their main goal was to establish colonies pushing everyone out of their way, including the Indians. The Cherokee tried to assimilate but once gold was confirmed on their land, they were forced to Oklahoma via the Trail of Tears.”
Chester interrupted, “I think it was Kentucky’s first historian, John Filson, who initially referenced John Swift. Before Filson, the Swift mines were an oral tradition.”
“That’s correct, Chester,” Rupert said. “In 1788, he claimed a tract of land that included a silver mine worked by a man named Swift. In fact, it was John Filson, who first told Daniel Boone of the great hunting in Kentucky. I think he also told Boone about the Swift tradition because not long after being associated with Filson, Boone was missing for two years. Supposedly he was on a ‘longhunt.’ However, Rebecca, his wife, thought he was dead and had a baby by another man—Boone’s brother, Ned.”
Mona asked, “You mean she married the brother?”
Rupert answered, “Hmm. Not exactly. Ned was married to Rebecca’s sister, Martha, and both women were pregnant at the same time.”
Althea pursed her lips. “Ned seemed to be quite the busy fellow. What happened when Daniel Boone returned?”
“Not much. He and Rebecca reconciled, and Boone claimed the child as his own. In fact, many said Jemima was his favorite child. Life went on, I suppose, and Daniel Boone became a legend.”
“I wonder what Rebecca and Martha said to each other,” Mona mused.
Mary said, “Well, it was Daniel’s own fault for the confusion. Leaving his wife with no word for two years. That’s horrible. I guess Ned thought he was being friendly.”
Everyone laughed except Chester whose brow furrowed. “Wasn’t it Boone’s buddy, John Finley, from the French and Indian War, who told Boone of the Cumberland Gap?”
“No, it was Filson.”
“I thought Boone and Finley went to Kentucky in 1769. Filson didn’t arrive in Kentucky until 1783,” Chester insisted.
Rupert insisted, “I’m sorry, it was Filson. Their names are very similar.”
“What happened to Filson?” Farley asked.
“The story goes he was on a surveying expedition near the Great Miami River and was attacked by the Shawnee in 1788. However, his body was never found. I think that is a cover story. I think he was looking for the mines,” Rupert said.
“In Ohio?” Farley asked.
“I don’t think he was in Ohio. There have been skeletons found in clothing of that period with the initials JF found on their musket in Kentucky. I think the Ohio story is a cover.”
“I don’t dispute your thought process here, but 1500 Europeans were killed either by the Shawnee, Cherokee, Mingo, Creek, and other tribes. That doesn’t even cover those who perished by accidents or natural causes. Muskets with the initials JF could have belonged to anyone,” Mona said. “I’m not trying to be the Devil’s advocate here but those are the facts.”
“I am,” Farley said, brusquely.
Mona continued, “I think we should use restraint. We’re not sure if there is one mine or several mines we are looking for. Swift’s journal has conflicting information.”
“Please go on, Rupert,” Althea said, giving Mona a dark look.
“The story goes that Swift, who had fought with George Washington in the French and Indian War helped a French prisoner captured by the Shawnee to escape—a man by the name of Munday. In return for Swift’s help, Munday gave Swift the location of several silver mines that Munday had been forced to mine as a slave. After the war, Swift recruited several of his war buddies, and they found the mines as described, mining them from 1761 to 1769. Swift was resentful of the British, so he used the silver to counterfeit English crowns. What silver they could not carry out each year, they buried along several routes when heading back to civilization. That’s what we’re after—either finding any silver mine, buried silver, or evidence of Swift’s existence.”
“What evidence is there of John Swift’s existence?” Althea asked.
“There’s John Filson’s mention of him in the deed, oral tradition, and Swift left a map and a journal.”
Mona said, “I understand there are thirty-six versions of this ‘journal.’”
Rupert nodded. “And I’ve read all thirty-six. After piecing together the clues on the map along with Swift’s journal, I think our best shot is the north side of the Pine Mountain Ridge.”
“Are there journals or maps from the other men who worked with him?” Farley asked.
“None that I would say are reliable.”
“Why not?”
“There are tales that the men began fighting one another over the silver and two even killed each other.”
“Why is it only Swift who comes back looking for the silver years later?” Farley asked. “Why not the other men on his team?”
“There are various stories of what happened to Swift’s partners, but the most damaging one is that he killed them with a sword while they slept in 1769 and took all the silver for himself.”
“That tears it. Too grisly for me.” Farley stood. “I need my beauty sleep if I’m going treasure hunting tomorrow. Good night, everyone. Chloe, come girl.”
“Good night,” Mona said, watching Chloe trot after Farley. “The little hussy. She’s deserting me.” Turning to Mary, Mona asked, “Do you have a telephone I can use.” Something about tonight’s conversation didn’t sit right with her, and she needed to check.
“There’s one in my office.”
“Good, I need to make a long distance call.”
“My office is always unlocked. Are you going to make a call tonight? It’s late.”
“I think I must, but I also need to wash this grime off. May I use your tub as well?”
“Of course, Mona. That’s a good idea. The streams will be too cold to bathe in, and even a nurse’s bath will be frigid.”
Mona and Mary walked toward the bathroom. “We have two bathtubs. With all these females working here, we need them.”
“How many nurses work here?”
“It varies, but I like to keep around twenty-five nurses at all times. Every year, I lecture at women’s colleges drumming up interest. You would be surprised at the number of nursing students who are interested in helping, but the problem is that we only keep them a year or two. Life is very hard here—the isolation not to mention the hard traveling they have to do on horseback with only limited supplies to assist them. But here’s something that even fancy East Coast doctors can’t achieve with all their modern doodads—our baby survival rate is higher than the national average. My nurses are very proud of that fact.”
“You should be very proud of the work you do.”
“I am. I love the mountains. I’m sorry, Mona, but I’ll take the mountains over the posh Bluegrass any day.”
“You seem to love the people, too.”
“I do. They’re resourceful, independent, and intelligent. Very creative, too. They just haven’t had the advantages of the rest of the country as they are so isolated. Once roads and electricity come to the mountains, things will change for the better. I’m hoping in five years my nurses won’t need to see their patients on horseback. They’ll be riding in cars.”
Mona laughed. “Speaking of the nurses, I bet they’re ready for a hot soak when they come back from their rounds.”
“You bet. Mona, you won’t believe this but we have two modern tubs out of five in the entire county. Come on. Let’s get you soaking in some hot water and then off to bed. You’ll be leaving at sunrise.”
“That early?”
“You gotta make hay while the sun shines around here.” Mary stopped before Mona’s bedroom. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Good night, Mary,” Mona said before turning the handle on the door. A good hot bath was what she needed to calm her frayed nerves. She couldn’t help but find Farley’s scoffing intriguing. She also harbored doubts about this expedition, but finding something of importance was Rupert’s responsibility.
She was just along for the ride, but first she had to make that call.