BOOM!

“Whoa! Why did you not tell me that they were going to shoot that off just now?”

Dawsey laughed. “How was I supposed to know? I do not come here that often.”

They both looked at the smoke coming from the quarry. Then from off in the distance another, but fainter, boom.

“That must be our pig farmer, Svin,” said Dawsey. “We will be there soon.”

“Wait! I want to see what happened here. It looks like it was a big explosion,” said Bertie.

“I agree, it was a big one. Let us go take a look.” Dawsey crawled over the quarry fence. Bertie followed Dawsey into the quarry. “We can go over here for a better view”

“Grrr” A large dog appeared in front of them.

The boys turned to run back to the fence and get on the road.

“Grrr” Another large dog appeared in front of them.

“How do we get out of here,’ said Dawsey.

“How indeed?” The boys spun around to see a large, grizzled, old man. “I thought that I told you not to come in here Master Binns,” said Mr. Frey the quarry guard.

“I am sorry. My friend here is from out of town and wanted to see what the dynamite did,” said Dawsey.

The old man glared at Bertie. “It made a big hole.” He then glared at Dawsey. “If I was not busy, I would tan your hide and take you to your father for another tanning. But I am busy, so you two get out of here!”

The boys ran out of the quarry, but as they left they could here the old man say, “Good work Fang! Nicely done Claw! If they come in here again, you can rip them to shreds.”

The boys did not stop running until they got to the negro cemetary.

“Did you hear that? Do you think those dogs would actually eat us.” said Bertie.

“Not really, but I would not want to risk it,”said Dawsey.

“Sounds like you might have actually learned something there,” said a voice from behind a tree. The boys looked up at the tree and a black man wearing a ten gallon hat and leather boots stepped out from behind the tree.

“Seph! What are thee doing here,” said Dawsey.

“Visiting my cousin.”

“I did not know that thee had any family buried here.”

“Yes, cousin Horace is buried over there.” Seph pointed.

“I am sorry to hear that. When did he die,” asked Bertie.

“June 10, 1864 at the Battle of Cold Harbor.” Seph paused, took off his hat, and bowed his head. After a spell, he rubbed his head and put his hat back on. “But you two did not come here to pay your respects to the honorable colored folk buried here at Hayti Cemetery. Where are you going?”

Dawsey shuffled his feet.

“Up to no good I will wager. Now out with it.”

“Nowhere,” said Dawsey.

“Uh huh. You are going the wrong way to get to nowhere. You are headed to Hayti Community and then the swamp. But I do not think that you were going to either of those places. Tell me where you were really going!”

“Well,” Dawsey stuttered, “We, were going to Svin Donuz’s place.”

Seph rubbed the whiskers on his chin. “So you are getting out of the frying pan and going into the fire. Here I thought that you had learned something from old man Frey and his dogs.” Seph narrowed his eyes. Then with a wisper of a smile, “I am tempted to not interrupt you when you are making another mistake.” Seph chuckled. “I would have said ‘What ever you do, stay off his property. He does not take too kindly to visitors.’ But instead, I will say ‘Go home! Now git!’”

“Yes Seph,” said Dawsey.

The boys started to march back up the lane towards home. Soon a carriage passed the boys. As it passed them, they jumped off the road into some bushes.

“We can wait here for Seph to go back into the cemetery and then sneak past him,” said Dawsey.

“That is an excellent plan,” said Bertie.

From behind the bushes, they waited and watched as Seph went back into the cemetery. The road to and from Media was a busy road. When a couple of horses went past the boys going to Media, they got out from behind the bushes and followed the horses. The boys were soon passed by several other horses, carriages, and buckboards. They walked past several farms that were smaller than Dawsey’s farm and got smaller as they got closer to the creek. Plus, many of the buildings were dark in color and needed paint.

“We are getting close to the Donuz farm now,” said Dawsey.

“How can you tell,”said Bertie.

“The houses are now log cabins; I can see swamp land on the side of the road; and I can smell pig. Yuck!”

“Ew pig! But how will we know which farm belongs to Mr. Donuz,” said Bertie.

Just then they heard a loud boom.

“That must be Svin. Let us go and see what he is really doing,” said Dawsey.

Bertie pointed. We can hide over there in those bushes, but still get a good view,” said Bertie.

The boyes crawled over to a small clump of bushes near a dilapidated shed and waited for the next explosion. Then, after a few minutes, a small piglet came up to the boys.

“Oink, oink, oink”

“Go away,” said Dawsey as he kicked the piglet.

“Squeal!”

A large dark figure loomed over the boys and pointed a large gun at Dawsey’s face.