It was always pretty comfortable sleeping in the lean-to with Brin and the packs. The horses were picketed nearby at night and we hadn’t had a fire that evening, so it was dark and peaceful. It wasn’t quiet; if it’s quiet at night, you’ve got a problem. In fact, spring and summer nights had their own beautiful symphony of sound for you to sleep by. I expected to get about four hours sleep that night.

I was awakened by Brin tensing next to me. The night had gone silent off to our left and I could hear one of the horses shifting around, meaning they were awake, also. Horses don’t sleep like humans do. They only need about an hour of deep sleep every day and they almost never lie down after dark. Usually, you’ll find them down, sleeping, in the middle of the day with plenty of safe area around them. Wolves don’t hunt during the day very often. So your normal, healthy horse will stay on its feet and doze throughout the night. Mother Nature takes a lot of creative license when creating species. Don’t even get me started on those stupid shrimp that change gender, mid-life.

I followed Brin's ears. He got up, circled around in bed a few times, and lay down facing in the opposite direction. Brin was still focused though.

It was silent for quite a while after that. Even the night sounds in that area resumed and our horse had seemed to doze off again. I dozed and waited.

The stars had barely moved when Brin tensed yet again. Our horses were quietly shuffling about and the night had gone silent again. I thought we might get some fun this time. I made sure my chosen weapon of humiliation was ready to go and waited. This was a game of patience and I was more than enjoying it.

When I heard the almost silent sound of a knife being drawn from a sheath, I focused on the sound and aimed. I wished I’d had a paint ball gun because that would have been way more fun, but this little flashlight would still do the trick. Someone was about to lose their night vision in a very painful manner.

I lightly patted Brin on the rump and he erupted from the lean-to using his, “I’m going to eat your liver while you watch" voice. At the same time, I flicked the switch on my searchlight and a high-powered beam lit up half of the camp. Five young men were on their hands and knees at the horses' pickets. They all quickly cowered back at the ferocity of Brin’s audible assault. They couldn’t help but look at him and thus, directly into the high-powered light. Instant night blindness.

It took them a moment to realize they were burning their retinas before they turned to run. I flipped the light down to low power and hushed Brin. I could have sworn Brin had a grin on his face as we watched them stumble through the brush like a frightened herd of cattle.

I shut the light off and lay back down. Brin got comfy again. I congratulated him for a while and we both went back to dozing. As expected, that was the last excursion of the night. I might have gone a little bit overboard, but I think some valuable lessons were learned.

Some locks just could not be stealthily picked.

**** ****

Friday morning was bright and beautiful. I had a fire going with coffee cooking on it, when Petalesharo showed up with a big grin on his face. I simply laughed out loud and gave Brin some love. Then, pointing to Pete, I told Brin “Friend,” and off Brin bounded, with his toddler-like enthusiasm, to play with his new friend. Pete was overtaken by the enthusiastic greeting from the gigantic furry toddler. I let it go on for a few moments before I calmed Brin and gave Pete some peace. Pete had a big grin on his face, “We make trade: your dog, my wife?” he laughed. I just shook my head and chuckled, thinking to myself, ‘Well, hell, some jokes are older than time.’

I invited him to join me at the fire and offered him some coffee. He declined the drink, but accepted the pancake with jam I offered. Matilda had made strawberry preserves from spring fruits she had gathered and sent a small portion along with me. After the initial pleasantries, Petalesharo and I got down to business. My new friend was shrewd but fair.

I started with, “I would like to give this gift to Petalesharo and his people.” By that, I meant, 'to your bosses via you,' which would bring recognition to Pete and his family.

“I would like the other jar back, please.” I needed to keep control of the factory produced items I let loose on the world. One or two would be an aberration but thirty or forty would bring notice. Screw on lids hadn’t even been invented until the 1850’s, which meant I needed to deal with this issue pretty quickly. Somebody back at the ranch was about to become a potter and I had a pretty good idea of who it was going to be.

Pete was ready for that and handed me the old jar back. It was in the same bag that I gave it to him.

“This is a very generous gift, Zachariah. What can we do to repay you?”

“Fort Atkinson,” I replied, “How to get there?”

Pete immediately went to work in the dirt in front of us, but I stopped him and handed him a large piece of leather and a stick of charcoal, “Here, please.”

A flurry of sketching later and I had a much better idea of where I was, in relation to the world.

“Please show me Big Nemaha,” I asked. He added that in and all was right with the world. I had a decent understanding of where I was and I could possibly make it to the Fort today, if I could avoid distractions. That wasn’t likely and I’d prefer to arrive at the Fort in the early hours of the day if possible.

I pointed at a spot on the map where I now lived and said, “Rulo.” Taking the charcoal back from Pete I marked it on the map.

“You must bring your family and visit.”

Petalesharo simply nodded.

I pointed to Brin and said, “He will be a father soon, we can trade.”

Now that brought me a big grin and an embrace as we parted. A successful river crossing indeed!