Grail Quest by D. Sallen

horses?”
    “Give up the horses? Are yer daft? Whoever heard of a cavalry man giving up his horses to…carry goods…on a river? Perish the thought!”
    But the thought didn’t perish. Young Moyock had a good head on him. His suggestion, distasteful as it was, warranted consideration.
    Now I was torn with a big decision. It appeared that floating down the rapid river made more sense than following the wooded shore on our two remaining horses. As a cavalry man, the thought of parting with the steeds bothered me. Horses were a way of life with me. Would I regret giving them up later? Probably. I didn’t know.
    After a long palaver, the Naturals agreed to swap their two largest canoes for the two horses. Then we spent two days training them to use the horses. Some were afraid of my animals. Two young warriors, following Moyock’s example, soon learned how to leap on the horse’s back without falling off. Using my saddle, one of the Chiefs proved he could ride that way.
    With the remainder of our possessions piled into the two canoes, Moyock and I set out on the Big River. Neither of us was proficient in using the muscles required to paddle the canoe. To keep from wearing ourselves out, we took frequent breaks and let the river do the work. Referring to the nightly raids to which I was subjected, Moyock said, “I surprised you have strength to paddle.”
    I laughed and splashed water at him.   We made such good time on the water I soon quit worrying about the horses. This was the way to go. I determined we could travel as much as thirty-five to forty miles a day.
    On our eighth day in the canoes, the river made a big loop, first turning north, and then flowing south. A large native encampment sat on the north bank of the loop. We pulled in there for the night. These people, called the Cinsy, were not surprised to see us.
    I asked Chief Natti, “Where have you seen White Men before?”
    “We not see. From old folks we hear tale. They say, long, long time gone by, many White Men live at strong place down river.”
    “Where are they now?”
    “They say White Men marry Natural girls. Have strange children. Maybe witches. We don’t know. Many people afraid of them…kill many people who are different.”
    “So, are any of these different people left?’
    “I think they all gone.”
    “Can we hire a guide to take us to strong place?”
    “Oh no. We don’t go there. We pass by it on river. That place haunted by ghosts of many dead. Maybe home of witches. You go down river, you see that strange place.”
    I said to Moyock, “We’ll press on. There is some mystery here. We’ll have to find that ‘strong place.’”  
    Near the end of the tenth day, while close into the north shore, Moyock’s sharp eyes spotted an unusual   structure high above the embankment. “I not see place like that before. Maybe that is strong place…of witches…and dead.”
    We pulled ashore and walked up to it. Under a heavy screen of vines and shrubs was a wall of unmortered flat stones. I said, “This is a man-made structure. I doubt if   it was erected by Naturals.”
    Following to our left, the wall curved around in an oval to a point about opposite where we first began our survey. Trees and heavy underbrush kept us from continuing around. The wall at its highest was about seven feet. The interior of this structure contained a high mound which was covered by brush and trees. On walking back to the shore, we could see the wall extended east for another few yards, and then curved towards the north. The reason for this structure escaped me. Except for the huge interior mound it appeared to be a defensive position.
    “Well, Moyock, I think we’ve found the strong place. We’ll camp on the shore tonight and explore it in the daylight.”
    “If ghosts around, waiting for daylight good.”
    Sitting around our campfire, I said, “This ‘fort’ is the first real clue I’ve had that White Men were ever in this area. I want to take a