Trees, killed and cut, lined both sides of the road. The road, as far as Stomping Beaver knew, hadn’t been there a week ago. The white army might as well have posted a sign mentioning their intent.
“They move fast.” His teenage son tossed a few twigs.
“Faster now they’ve built this road.” Stomping Beaver removed his shoulder bag and tucked it beneath one of the felled logs. “Stay here. Have my food – this bag will only slow me down.”
He’d be too late. The road was several days old, and the fort was only two days march away.
This was written for the February 7th Carrot Ranch Prompt, signs. I’m giving away that I’ll be reviewing some history books soon – last night I finished reading about the Creek Wars, which were a subset of wars in the War of 1812. This tale was a fictional figment inspired by what I read.
Bonus points to anyone that figures out who’s the subject of the biography I’m reading!