Chapter 5

Dardanelle was the last port west on the Arkansas River.  In the 1880’s old steamboats pushed their way up the river bringing passengers and freighting goods to Dardanelle.  The Arkansas River was the largest tributary flowing into the Mississippi River.  Freighting companies were formed to carry the products of the manufacturing noth and textile mills of the south to every samll town in Arkansas.  Sam’s wandering feet found rest on the first freight wagon to Harrison, Arkansas.

The road Sam followed crossed the Boston Mountains.  It took days for Sam to drive his wagon to Harrison.  At night, he made camp on the trail.  He would build a campfire to warm beans and give him light.  The night was full of strange sounds made by the wild animals that inhabited the high hills and deep hollows.

Once Sam arrived at Harrison, he looked around and liked what he saw.  The large courthouse, built shortly before the war, had large trees around it.  Under the trees were wooden benches.  Local men occupying these benches were dressed in large hats and blue overalls.  They displayed a talent for the fine art of whittling.

Sam drove his tem of mules past the Courthouse Square to the general store.  He spoke to the men on the benches and they spoke to in return.  It didn’t take him long to unload his freight and walk over to the courthouse yard to find out the local news.

He found where the local card games were played and how to get there.  It was no trouble for Sam to find the big red barn.  He met a farmer leading a cow with a rope around her neck.  He told Sam to go into the corncrib of the barn.

Inside the corncrib three men, seated on old cane bottom chairs, were having a poker game.  A big man with gray hair motioned for the newcomer to set on a nail keg.  The cards were dealt out to each player and each man carefully studied the cards, as if they were stars.  Each card received by the player held him spell bound, until one broke the silence by announcing his resolution to raise the bet or fold his cards.

The older man, in the wee hours of the morning, reached for the silver coins in the middle of the table.  “Boys, you need to take lessons and this advice is free,” the gray haired lawyer said.

Sam’s night was not a total loss.  He still had half of his wages in his pocket.

Two younger men left the game room to return with some of the best moonshine Sam had ever drank.  He fell asleep on a pile of hay near the ladder to the barn loft.  Sam’s head was saved from being crushed by his keen sense of danger and quick reaction.  A couple of worn out cowboy boots narrowly missed his head.  These boots belonged to Oss and Bin Sitton.  The boys asked Sam to have breakfast with them.

“Sure boys” was Sam’s reply, and he jumped on behind Ben as he rode his horse out of the barn.