Hortons Bend

different….not like anything in any of my books.” “I ain’t a crazy man and I ain’t the most religious man but the ground glowed that night and I just think it’s a strange and sacred place.” Ronnie realized his deepest thoughts were coming out. He shook his head and started to stand. “Now don’t you mention that to any of your buddies……I don’t want you to get them interested in Horton’s farm. I’m glad that everyone is scared of the place. It keeps the peace around here.” J.W. nodded and knew his brother meant what he said. “You know Sam Horton don’t care for people coming around…they keep to themselves and they got some weird ways.”
    Time flies when you’re picking up pieces of the past. Ronnie was always amazed at how quick time went by when collecting in the field. He always got lost in his thoughts of how these people once lived. It always amused him to read older books on history when authors would call native people “savages”. If the tables were turned he wondered if they could have hacked it out living on nothing other than their wits and raw natural materials. Doubtfully. His appreciation for their art was one thing. But their sheer determination and longevity was cause for admiration in the least. Ronnie’s mind would drift but it was working on a puzzle. He knew all of the sites he collected on by heart so it was easy for him to place a series of Archaic Period sites on a particular side of the Oostanaula while including those with the later Woodland Period. It was true that many of the sites produced similar material but Ronnie had spent so much time with his collection and plotting the sites on his maps that he began to see patterns in certain ceramic types and the lithic points along the river. Today was no different. He noticed that three of the Savannah River points they found had a similar base as some he had once found at the Reynolds Site which was about a mile downstream. He would have to do some more plotting when he got home.
    Ronnie looked up at the sky and drifted back to present. It wasn’t late but Ol’ Gaither might have thought of some trading chores so he called out to his brother to come on up. J.W. looked up when he heard “Time to go J.W.” His brother was not interested in any free labor and Gaither made him nervous anyway so he quick stepped it to head out of the field. They carefully separated out the lithics and ceramics into zip lock bags which Ronnie had already labeled. By the time they made it up to the farmhouse, Gaither was a pretty good ways into another field. They stood for a minute by the truck and Gaither looked over their way. He waved and so did they. Good timing was on both of their minds as they made their getaway down the driveway. Gaither was a good old boy but it was the weekend and they had other ways to spend it than working here.
    As they rode home, they both agreed it was a good hunt. Good to get back to a place that had been protected as Gaither wouldn’t allow anybody else to hunt there. J.W. got out at his mama’s and bided Ronnie goodbye. He knew Ronnie wouldn’t stay for supper. He always headed home to wash the artifacts and would sit down and study them. Ronnie had a journal he kept with lots of drawings and notes on the sites they had visited. J.W. enjoyed the collecting but he really didn’t enjoy time with his brother after the hunt. Ronnie tended to be very quiet once the points and pottery were washed. He spent time studying the objects under a lamp and then with a magnifying glass. The journal would always be within arm’s length and his brother would flip through the pages comparing drawings. He would cross the room to look at the dots on the topographic maps which detailed every site. J.W. was left to sip his beer during this quiet interlude and knew this was no time for idle chit chat as Ronnie would shssssh him if he interrupted his thoughts. The only time they spoke was when Ronnie looked up to realize he was there. “You want a beer?” was about the most he could hope for on these nights. J.W. had been through this a couple of times and decided that his brother needed to be left alone when Ronnie was studying the past.
    Ronnie went through a ritual that he had followed for many years. He washed down the artifacts and used an old toothbrush to clean any dirt out. He was careful with those found in the area that had been burned. While he couldn’t afford to send charcoal samples off to a